The wind rustles these wild petunias underhoof, and I slough off the saddlebag holding our lunch. It's a nice hill we're on, maybe the area of a few houses but a bit flatter. Like every good picnic hill, this one has a large tree, an ancient oak providing ample shade. Being a good five miles away from Canterlot, the clouds don't always behave, and indeed it's a bit muggy. Not to the point of oppressiveness though. The awkwardness on the other hoof, is a bit crippling. Curse my inarticulateness around cute mares.
I swallow. "SO," I say a bit too loudly, "here we are. Lovely weather, huh?"
Olive giggles softly. "No, actually, it's kind of hot and humid. You're not very good at small talk, are you?"
I'm lucky changelings don't blush. "What gave it away?"
She pulls a blanket out the saddlebag with her mouth and spreads it on the flower-covered hill. "Yoaugh dddntt mmhm"--she finishes the task inconveniencing her speech, then resumes talking. "I was saying, you hardly spoke at all on the trot here. You just kept looking over at me, as if desperately hoping I would start a conversation."
"Shoot," I say. "Was I that transparent?"
"Yeah. But I thought it was kind of cute."
Once again I'm glad I can't blush.
She pulls various picnicky items out of the bag, before noticing I still haven't moved from the spot where I stand under the oak tree. She rolls her eyes. "Look, I obviously think you're a cool enough 'ling to go on a date with, so relax dude."
I feel the calming sensation she emotes, and it has a tranquilizing effect on me. "Right," I say, slicing open the bread bag with a sharp edge of my chitin. "Relax."
Quietly aside from the occasional "Could you get the--" or "Pass the--, please," we make our lunches, then settle down onto the blanket on the petunias on the hill under the oak tree. It's nice. I think I could nap.
"So," she starts, "you said you wanted to talk about your ex once we got here?"
Errrr, scratch the nap idea. I briefly run through the bullet points I rehearsed last night, then begin.
"This isn't where I first met her. I first met her when I was a young worker doing routine dream maintenance. She was asleep in her pod and this location kept running through her mind with strong mixed emotions attached to it."
"Oh?" Olive says, more curious than concerned. Which is good, because I am very nervous.
"I... I'm sorry," I stammer. "I'm going to be throwing a, uh, lot of information at you. It's just, I practiced this last night. Like a lot. I want to impress you. Oh, who am I kidding. I'm talking about my dead ex. That's not impressive, that's macabre. Anyway, yeah, I'm going ramble, and I'm sorry and..."
"Flarglesmirk," she says softly, placing a hoof on my shoulder. "It's okay. Seriously, relax."
Again, she exudes a kind calmness, and I can't help but mirror it. "Yeah, 'kay. Sorry."
"It's fine. You were telling how you met her."
"Right. So a few months after the Changeling-Pony accords--and mind you this was, what... fifty six years ago I think?--I wandered over to this hill. It wasn't too hard to find; I just flew over the countryside looking for a hill with an oak tree."
"And you found her here?"
"Nope. Just petunias. And this oak tree." I gesture to the trunk I'm leaning against. "And, not surprisingly, some very strong background emotional radiation."
"What's that mean?"
"Well, as I'm sure you know, we changelings feed on emotions, most notably and efficiently love. Understandably, we have developed an organ that's extremely good at finding and identifying sources of strong emotions."
"Oh, that's cool," she says. "What's it called?"
"The word we have for it doesn't translate very well into Equestrian, but it's often called an emotive nose."
"Neat. So what did you find with this emotive nose?"
"Very strong feelings of melancholy, an almost infinite sadness."
Her face turns troubled, and I feel the token sympathy roll off her. "Was this where she died?"
"What?! Olive, think about what you just said."
She puts a chin to her hoof hoof to her chin and looks up, thinking. My Celestia, she's cute. "Oh, wait, that wouldn't make much sense would it. Heh, carry on."
"Right. So she was obviously sad about something. I flew back to my home, made a note, flew back here, and left it. I certainly didn't expect a response.
"You just left a note here?"
"Yeah. I figured if this place was so special, the pony would come back."
"And she did obviously."
"Right. She read the note. I... I actually have a copy of it in my saddlebag. Would you like to read it?"
Olive takes a bite of her PB&J sandwich. "Ummphh, shurre," she says. Apparently she likes talking with her mouth full.
I reach over and rummage through my bag Why is that anvil still in here? Is that... I never took out the chloroform? That would take some explaining if found! Ahhh, here we are. I hoof her a folded piece of paper. She takes it and opens it with her rich green wings.
Dear Sad
Hello. I don't know who you are, but I'm a changeling, and I noticed that this location seems to mean a lot to you. If you ever find yourself without somepony to talk to, I suppose you could find me. My telegraph extension number is 57-32-16-03. I hope you have a great day.
~Sincerely, Drei Flarglesmirk
She scans the short letter a few times, then smiles happily. Her complexion is so asthetically pleasing when she smiles like that.
"I'd say the gambit worked. From what you've told me, you obviously got the girl."
"Hey, Hey, Hey! I had no romantic intentions at the time. Okay, well, I mean, I didn't expect anything. I just wanted to help out a pony who obviously had some junk going down in her life."
I smell disbelief, accompanied by her raised eyebrows. "You wanted to help her out out of the goodness of your heart? Really?"
"Look," I say, a little flustered. "I'd like to apologize on behalf of my species. We're not all love diggers like some think."
` She draws back. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to offend." Now she gives off mild fear. Great.
I sigh. "Look, I didn't think anything would come of it. I was shocked when I got a letter in the mail three weeks later inviting me to coffee in what I noticed was a blatantly public setting where there was no way I could foalnap her or anything. I know that sounds paranoid, but you have to understand, this was a time when there was a LOT more distrust between species. As I said, it was only maybe like, I don't know, a third of a year after the peace accords, and six years after the battle of Canterlot. Tensions were still very high."
"Wait, I thought you gave her your number, not your address."
"I... yeah, she spent two weeks stalking me."
Olive laughs. "Well, I guess changelings can't have a monopoly on being creepy." She means no harm, I can tell, and so I choose to ignore the inadvertent slur.
"Yeah. You know, I'm going into a bit much depth, aren't I?"
"Not really," she says. "I'm enjoying your story."
"But," I plead, "I meant to talk about why this hill is special to me, not give my entire life history." Really, I don't want to bore her.
"Then tell me why this hill is special to you," she says sweetly, and I am beginning to realize I can speak far freer around her than around most ponies.Great Goddess I'm experiencing love again.
"Uh... right. This hill. Uh... important. It, um..."
She readjusts herself, gnawing on some dandelions, waiting for me to find my voice.
I shake my head rapidly, clearing my thoughts. Okay, I got this. "Let me begin with the time she dumped me..."