RINGRINGRINGRINGRING
The first sound you heard when you woke up in the morning, always aggravating and obnoxious. Not to mention on numerous occasions it has almost given you a heart attack. This small, silver colored, mechanical torture device was the bane of your existence. Every morning you do battle with this machine, which ended with you trying to figure out how to deactivate the damn thing, getting frustrated, and punching it across the room; which always seemed to do the trick. Wingsley began to associate the sound of swearing and the thud of a heavy metal object hitting the wall as a sign that you were awake. Not to mention the wall did not enjoy things being thrown at it, as it was starting to give at the impact points.
Groggily, you squirm your way out of bed, trying to set a record for the smallest amount of energy used while waking up. Eventually your hooves find the ground. Trotting over to the crash point of the alarm clock, you pick it up in your mouth and move it back to your bed-stand, where it destined to be struck from its perch once again. A quick glance out the window tells you that it is not daybreak yet, and Wingsley has about an hour until class starts. You trot to the bathroom to wash up and wrestle with your uncooperative mane. A few minutes later, you make your way downstairs and find Wingsley up and ready to go, as always.
“So who won?” Wingsley said, trying to keep a straight face.
“The alarm...” you say in shushed tones, fatigue evident across your face.
You turn towards him, Wingsley couldn’t hold it in anymore, his slight giggling turned to laughter, and that laughter turned to hysterical laughter. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, his laughter was contagious, it always was, even when he was a tiny colt. Before long, you joined in on the laughter. Laughing for the sake of laughter. You couldn’t go a few seconds before looking at each other, and starting the process again. Anyone observing this odd exchange would most likely have deemed that both of you deserved to be institutionalized, but you didn’t care; you were with your brother and for the most part your new life was picture perfect.
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As the laughter died down, you realized how much you needed a laugh and this was the perfect start to your day. Pondering an idea you discuss it with Wingsley, “Hey, how about before we go down to Sugercube Corner before school and grab you a cupcake or muffin?”
“That sounds great!”, he exclaims then questioning your motives he asks, “But why? What’s the occasion?”
“Oh come on, I can’t decide to be nice to my little brother for once?” you laugh, “Don’t you remember the saying, ‘Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth?’” causing a chuckle from both of you at the political incorrectness and slight racism of the phrase you used to utter so often in Cloudsdale. Although, thinking about Cloudsdale brought a bitter taste in your mouth along with conflicting emotions of ‘home.’
“Anyway, lets get going,” giving a get-over-here motion with your hoof. Wingsley eagerly followed you out the door into the fresh, chilly, morning air.
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Carrying Wingsley on your back, you fly at a lazy pace toward Sugercube corner. Wingsley may have been afraid of heights but it was obvious that he trusted you enough to not break-down while flying. His tiny legs gripped you as he hung on for dear life. You could feel his heart beat fast through his chest, but not a heart-beat of a pony who feared for his life, but a heart-beat of a pony who feared for his life and enjoying every moment of it. Looking back over your shoulder, you smile at him, seeing him entranced by the beauty of the sky.
As it always does, seeing him happy makes you happy. It was something about his personality, something that made him endearing to everyone, something that caused him to allow everypony to feel exactly the way he was feeling.
Approaching Sugarcube corner, you descend, diving sharply and curving through the air until you became asymptotic to the ground, you raised your wings to slow your motion and land. Admittedly, you only did this to show off to your brother; there were numerous, easier ways to land. But, you couldn’t stop yourself. Helping him off your back, you push his wind-swept hair back to its usual form, getting only minor objections.
“Shall we?” you ask.
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“HIYA! You boys are sure up early, what can I do for ya’?” said an ever jubilant Pinkie Pie.
“Hi Pinkie,” Wingsley chimes in, “Oh, and thanks for the party you threw for us, it was really awesome!”
“Oh don’t mention it,” Pinkie says smiling, giving a dismissive gesture with her hoof. “I love throwing parties, and it was the least I can do to welcome you two to Ponyville.”
“How many parties do you throw?” Wingsley asked, generally curious.
“Well, I could get out my account of all the parties I have thrown since, well forever, but I don’t think you guys have time to wait for me to count out all of them.” Bringing her hoof up to her mouth in a thinking gesture, Pinkie speculated, “Let’s say around 5,100 parties.”
“Wow.” both you and Wingsley say in unison. Shocked at her diligence and overall kind-heartedness.
Changing the subject, you tell Pinkie, “Well Wingsley needs to get to school, but I told him that he could pick up something here first.”
“Okay! See anything you like?” Pinkie asked cheerfully.
“Hmm...” you see him thinking, “How about that cupcake right there?” he says pointing to a light blue cupcake.
“Oh, I love these kind of cupcakes. Good choice,” she says with a smile.
“Well I think we should head over to school now, you can eat the cupcake on the way,” you tell your brother.
While your brother heads outside, you approach the counter to pay the required bits. Suddenly an idea pops into your head, “Hey Pinkie, do you know anywhere I can get picnic supplies?”
“Hmm, well I think there is a shop a few blocks down, why?” she asks confused.
“Oh no reason...”
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After dropping Wingsley off and picking up a modest amount of picnic supplies you leave to find some way to entertain yourself until school finishes. Feeling somewhat nervous, you try to calm your nerves by doing some mindless reading. Picking up a book from the library, The Legends and Mythology of Dragons, an interesting enough book for the moment. Putting it in your saddlebag you carry it home and begin to read.
A few hours pass and you realize that Wingsley is almost out of school. You made sure that your day was freed up so that Wingsley could spend the entire day playing with his friends. It did involve moving a few things around, but it shouldn’t be too difficult to take care of the excess tasks. Nurse Redheart sure didn’t take too kindly to you reorganizing her appointment schedule for today. Ehh, could be worse.
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Flying back to the school area, you find the comfortable shaded area where you relaxed yesterday. Setting up your blanket and basket of picnic supplies you wait for school to finish. Upon hearing the dismissal bell you see the doors to the school fly open and a swarm of fillies and colts rush out, eager to stretch out after a long time of sitting down.
Searching from an elevated point you are able to pick out Wingsley in the crowd. Still seated, you raise your hoof in the air as a way of greeting and summoning him. His face lights up at the sight of you and rushes toward you. You soon realize that he has no plans of stopping and is about to charge straight through you, you stand up to prepare for the incoming assault. True to expectations, after running after you, Wingsley jumps, aided by his wings, tackles you in a large embrace. Falling to the ground, you cannot help but start laughing. Giving him a playful noggie, you ask, “So, how was your second day of school?”
In a single, uninterrupted breath he told you exuberantly, “Awesome! We learned about old ponies and how Equestria was founded and then Ruby fell out of her chair with a FFUMP! It was really funny but Cheerilee told us we shouldn’t laugh, but it was hard not to.” As he continued to talk about his day extensively and energetically down to the smallest detail, you could only look at him with a smile and a chuckle. How he was able to get so excited over the tiniest things was unknown to you, but you felt it was one of his endearing traits.
Seeing that Dinky was with him standing off to the side, you bring your attention to include both of them as you offer them some food from the picnic basket. “I have more than enough and you kids look hungry.” Eyes locked on the food, they each take a sandwich and run off to play in the bright, warm day.
Watching them play, you remember playing with your friends when you were his age. The time with both of your parents, a time that is long past. Sighing, you open the basket to see what you brought. Truthfully, you were throwing food in basket at the last minute not looking at the packaging, which is one of the reasons why you have a box of baking soda stashed in the basket. Go figure, I guess all I need is some vinegar and I can start a party, you think, laughing at your carelessness. From the edge of your awareness you hear a familiar friendly voice.
“Hey you,” Ditzy greets you, “You gonna eat all that food yourself?”
“I have more than enough if you want some.”
Sitting down next to you, Ditzy says with an amused smile, “Well it would be rude of me to not accept your generosity.” Reaching into the bag she pulls out a sandwich similar to the ones the children took earlier.
Sitting next to each other, you both observe as the two kids are hard at play. Contrary to the previous day, you are the one to break the silence. “We do get the news in Cloudsdale, and I know that Ponyville has been the center of a lot of apocalyptic situations in the past few months,” giving her a curious smile.
“Hey only two times, that shouldn’t count as a lot,” she says giggling, not able to keep a straight face.
“First Nightmare Moon, then Discord. What’s next, aliens?”
“I sure hope not, but hey, you never know what the future has planed.”
After a brief silence you ask, trying to get a better understanding of who the mare sitting next to really was, “So Dinky is your youngest?”
“Yeah, Sparker is my oldest. I don’t think you have met her, have you?”
“No. Does she normally come to pick up Dinky from school?”
“Well she used to, but now she has Higher Level Magic Training that takes up most of her time.” Giving a pause, Ditzy continues, “Sparkler is adopted, I adopted her when she was just a filly. I knew her parents before they... passed. Ever since that day, learning that she was all alone and being put up for adoption with no-pony that cared for her, I filled out the legal, bureaucratic paperwork and raised her as my own.”
“She must be really lucky to have a mom like you,” you say, giving a small smile.
“Thanks,” she says blushing, “But not everypony feels that way,” her voice trailed off.
“Why would they think differently, I just don’t understand?” you ask perplexed.
“It has to do with Dinky’s father,” she says sadly. “Let’s just say he was a well respected member of Ponyville. He had a lot of friends, friends that you could buy with the kind of money he had. He seemed like a nice guy for the first few months, he turned out to be a heartless bastard. His ‘friends’ didn’t like how I ran him out of town and kept custody of Dinky, thinking my condition was a disability. That’s the short version, I don’t really like to talk about it.”
“They can all go jump in a lake for all I care. I’ve seen you with Dinky and you’re a great mom. It’s not hard to see that you two are perfect together.”
“I should say the same with you and Wingsley,” Ditzy comments. “I mean he loves you more than anything, you should see the way he looks up to you.”
“Well I’m glad I’ve done something right, when our dad left I had to become a like a dad to fill the place,” looking forlorn you continue, “When the storm came, when we got the message that our mom was not coming back...” You had to pause for a second, as this brought back waves of heartache and pain, you did everything in your power to not let this overcome you, “When we heard, none of us really believed it. We didn’t believe it for the next few months either, we only understood when we saw the note and the money our dad left us before he left. We were alone, having to fend for ourselves. Wingsley never recovered and I don’t think I can forgive my dad for what he did to us,” as your voice trailed off you feel a comforting arm on your shoulder.
“You never know what life will throw at you, some days it will be easy, other days you will have trouble finding the strength to keep going, but you did it. You pushed through, and now Wingsley is happy because of you. Don’t ever forget that,” Ditzy tells you.
You continue to talk to Ditzy, but are less afraid at this point. Seeing that the sun is hanging just above the horizon, you turn back toward Ditzy, “I have to say that I was really nervous when I met you.”
“Oh really? And why is that?” she askes playfully.
Feeling yourself turn as red as an apple from Sweet Apple Acres, you stammer out, “Well I-I-I guess it was b-because I thought you were cute.” Giving her the most painful embarrassed smile of all time you go on to ask, “You know how you said you would take a rain-check on the dance? Well how about dinner? You know, if you want to that is...”
“Sure.”
“Wait what?” turning your head sharply.
“Sure, it’ll be fun. I’d love to go out sometime,” Ditzy tells you, giving a warm smile.
Stunned, mouth agape, trying to keep your voice from breaking out into a cheer you ask her, “So how does Friday sound, around 7?”
“I’ll check my calendar, but sure, that sounds great!” Standing up, Ditzy excuses herself, “I’d love to stay longer, but I Dinky and I have to get home. I’ll stop by and tell you how my schedule is looking Friday. Bye!”
Trying to contain yourself, you can’t help as a broad smile grows over your face and threatens to cause you to start jumping up and down with glee.YES!