Coal Bolt stepped out of his humble little house, a hardhat on his head and carrying a lunchbox on his back. He looked up at the clear, late winter sky and let the sunlight hit his face for a few moments with his eyes closed. He looked to one side of his snow-covered lawn, at the swing set he and his late wife had built for Snow Bolt all those years ago. That was back before Summer Heart got sick, back in the good times. Snow Bolt had loved that swing.
Coal Bolt stared at the old swing, now long unused and covered in snow. He closed his eyes and felt a lump well up in his throat as he recalled the memory of his little Snow Bolt laughing as he pushed her. Higher, higher! she cried. He could hear her voice now as clearly as he had all those years ago.
He took a deep breath and choked back his tears. No, he had spent enough time mourning. His wife was gone, his daughter was gone, and he was just going to have to live with it. He had spent an entire month searching for Snow Bolt, combing the area of Equestria where she had last been seen, long after the Royal Guard had given up its search. He had spent another month in mourning, scarcely eating or leaving the house. But the plant manager had called the other day, and said that while he was sorry for Coal Bolt’s loss, if he didn't return to the plant within the week they would have no choice but to find a replacement for him.
So he wiped away his tears, swallowed the lump in his throat, and took a few deep breaths. He walked across his front yard and out the white picket fence, deliberately avoiding the swing set with his eyes. He turned right down the sidewalk, and began the long walk to the plant.
Coal Bolt mostly stared at the ground while he walked. The neighbors he passed on his way mostly gave him a wide berth. To the ones that did stop and greet him, he could only manage a weak smile. To him, it was a farce. In the space of two years, he had lost everything he cared about. He had watched his once beautiful wife wither into a hollowed, tortured shell of her former self, and held her hoof as she died in agony. And now, to lose Snow Bolt, the only thing he had left of Summer Heart, was entirely more than he could bear.
But the worst part, the question that had kept him up nights since the day he first learned she was missing, was whether it had been his actions that had caused her to run away in the first place. When his wife had died, and Snow Bolt had first started to act out, was there more he could have done? He had tried his best, but he just wasn’t as good with Snow Bolt as her mother had been. Looking back, just about the only interactions he could remember with her after her mother died was him yelling at her for something or other. He still loved her of course, but had he ever told her that? Had he ever really taken the time to remind her? Sending her away to live with his brother on the rock farm had seemed like an extreme step, but at the time he was willing to do anything to stem her bad behavior. He was so desperate that he had sent his only daughter to go live with strangers instead of living with him. Is that why she had run away? Would she still be alive if he hadn't?
Coal Bolt stopped in the street, hung his head, and shut his eyes tight. He was almost at the plant now. Could he really go inside and watch the gauges, and pull the levers, and eat his lunch and chat with his coworkers as he had before? As if his life had any meaning any longer, as if he could recover and ever be anything but a shell of the pony he had once been?
All around him, ponies bustled about to and from their morning errands. A few muttered things like “move it, buddy!” as they pushed around him, but Coal Bolt did not care. He doubted he would ever care about anything ever again.
Coal Bolt stared at the ground, at the dark spot on the sidewalk his tears were making. He was only vaguely aware of all the hooves passing around the periphery of his vision. He shut his eyes tight for a moment, and when he opened them, he saw that a pair of hooves had stopped in front of him. They were small, white, and turned too far inwards.
“Hi papa,” said a small, familiar voice.
Coal Bolt slowly raised his eyes. A young filly stood there, looking up at him with a little smile and soft, sapphire-blue eyes.
It was Snow Bolt.
Coal Bolt could only stare, his mouth agape, at the apparition before him. “Snow Bolt?” His mouth formed the name, but no sound escaped his lips. “Snow Bolt?" he said again, his voice ragged. "Is it really you?"
Snow Bolt’s eyes were brimming with tears. “Yes, papa. It’s me.”
Hoof trembling, Coal Bolt reached out to touch his daughter, afraid that she would vanish the second he did so. Snow Bolt reached out, took her father's hoof in her own, and put it to her cheek.
Coal Bolt’s heart soared. “Snow Bolt! My Snow Bolt! It’s you, it’s really you!” He rushed towards her and lifted the filly off her hooves, crushing her in his embrace. “My daughter, my only daughter, she’s alive!”
Snow Bolt was also crying. “Papa, I’ve missed you so much. I’m so sorry.”
“No, Snow Bolt, I’m the one who should be sorry. I should have never sent you away. I’m so sorry for everything.”
The two of them sank to the ground, their arms wrapped around each other and weeping uncontrollably. Coal Bolt was dimly aware that he was causing a scene, but he didn’t care. After a few long moments their sobbing slowed, and Coal Bolt held Snow Bolt at arm’s length.
“Where have you been, child? What happened?” he asked.
“Oh papa, it’s a long story. I’m not sure you’d believe me anyways.”
“Is that… oh my gosh, is that your cutie mark?!” He spun Snow Bolt around to have a look. “Snow Bolt, you have a cutie mark! Oh, and your hair is… wow, and look at your wings, they’re so… can you fly now?!”
Snow Bolt giggled at her father’s stammering. “Yes, yes, papa. I have a lot to tell you. But don’t you have work?”
"Hah!" Coal Bolt took off his hard hat, set it gently on the ground, and then turned and bucked it clear into the next town. “No, Snow Bolt. Frankly, I don’t think I’d care to work another day of my life, not there when there are so much more important things to tend to. Come on, let’s go home.”
* * *
“Come on, Jackpot. Quit holding out on us. Just give us what we want and it’ll be over.”
Rusty Spur was holding a young earth pony upside-down by his hind legs. The foal was struggling to squirm free, but the big colt’s grip held firm. “I…I don’t have any lunch money. My mom started packing my lunch!”
“Aw gee, that’s too bad,” Rusty said. Rocks and Smokey laughed as they looked on from the mouth of the alley. “Well if you don’t have any money for the toll, I guess I’m just going to have to impound your face.”
“No, wait!” Jackpot cowered as Rusty raised his other hoof to strike.
Smokey Ore, who was serving as the trio’s lookout, turned as he heard distinctive, irregular hoofsteps approaching. A moment later, a familiar, yellow-haired pegasus came into view on the other side of the street. “Hey rusty,” Smokey Ore said, squinting through his glasses across the street. “Isn’t that Snow Bolt over there?”
“Huh?” Rusty turned to look. Jackpot used the momentary distraction to wriggle free. He hit the pavement running, and was halfway down the block just a few seconds later.
“I thought she was...dead?” Rusty Ore asked. Snow Bolt appeared to be having a lively conversation with a small, brown squirrel perched atop her head.
Just then, Snow Bolt happened to glance over. Seeing the three earth ponies, she smiled and crossed the street over to them. “Hey guys!” she called, giving the three a wave. “How’s it going?”
Each of the three bullies looked at Snow Bolt, the squirrel, then to each other. They were not quite sure what to make of the friendly and confident pegasus filly that stood before them. She bore little resemblance to the skittish, timid foal they had last seen on the train to Dodge Junction months ago.
Atop her head, the squirrel appeared to be asking Snow Bolt a question. “Yes, Cheeky,” Snow Bolt answered cheerfully. “These are those friends I was telling you about.” The squirrel crossed its little arms and glared at the three.
Rusty quickly recovered. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t our favorite little blank fla—wha?”
Snow Bolt had turned to one side and casually stretched her wings, making sure to give the three a good long look at her new cutie mark. She looked back at it, as if pretending to notice it as well. “Oh, that’s right! You guys haven’t seen my cutie mark yet, have you? What do you think?”
“Pretty!” Rocks blurted. Without looking, Rusty gave him a swift kick in the chest.
“Aww! Thank you, Rocks!” Snow Bolt smiled wide. “I think so, too.”
Rusty was still staring at the cutie mark, and a touch of envy crossed his face. “Yeah well…uh…you mean you waited all that time for your cutie mark and it’s just a stupid snowflake thing? I hope you kept your receipt.”
Snow Bolt smiled knowingly at him. “Aw, it’s not all that bad. I kinda like it.” Her words were modest, but her face was beaming with pride.
Smokey Ore circled around Snow Bolt as if to get a better look at her cutie mark, but once he was out of her sight, kneeled down low behind her. Still in front of her, Rusty smiled evilly.
“Well, I have to say, Snow Bolt, you've really come along. You've got your cutie mark now and everything. Maybe you’re even cool enough to hang out with us. But then again…” Rusty casually took a step towards her. “You are still just a try-fly!” Rusty lunged at Snow Bolt, meaning to push her so she’d topple over Smokey, who was positioned behind her. Instead, Snow Bolt darted directly upwards with one flap of her wings. The move caught Rusty completely off-guard, and he found himself toppling over Smokey instead. The two collapsed to the ground in a tangle of limbs.
Hovering above them, Snow Bolt giggled. “Whoops. Watch your step there, guys. Oh! I guess you haven’t seen me fly yet either?”
Rusty and Rocks groaned in Unison
She giggled again. “Well, it’s been fun catching up fellas, but I’ve gotta run. I’m meeting my dad downtown for ice cream. See ya later!”
As she flew off, the squirrel turned around and blew the three a loud raspberry from the top of Snow Bolt's head. Rusty sputtered as he tried to think of a witty retort, but he ultimately came up empty. That didn’t stop Rocks, though. “Bye-bye, try-fly!” he called, then winced in pain as Rusty smacked his head from behind.
THE END