I first noticed him at the meeting for the first winter's fall. No, that's not quite right; that was when I first noticed him noticing me.
A moist, gritty scent—almost taste—hung in the air. The kind that makes a pony feel like it's slipping into her coat, between each of the hairs and sticking. But if she were to look for it, the grime would fail to materialize. Thankfully, such an uncomfortable combination was rare, typically only occurring when pegasi fighting wild Everfree rainstorms mingled with those tending to the dry, dusty weather within Ponyville.
With almost the entirety of the weather team sitting around the town hall's auditorium, the odds were not only high, but realized. Not that we were crowded or anything like that; if we had spread out, each of us could have stretched our wings without even touching each other. The smell was just that strong.
Rainbow Dash stood amongst a dozen diagrams, all of which were pinned to a few rollout corkboards. She had just finished her usual spiel: speeding through the plan followed by a long, blunt and somehow simultaneously vague motivational speech. Thankfully, the plan was pretty close to what we'd done last year, so few, if any, details were lost between the cracks.
We'd just started to mingle and I don't even remember what I said, just that I could feel his eyes turn. They pored over my charcoal coat and blue, tied-up mane, stopping momentarily on my teal scarf. And in that instant, that blue pegasus stallion, who normally spent every meeting—and that's if he even bothered to show up—hiding in the corner behind that large, brown cowlick, got my attention.
It was not Night Flurry, specifically, who set off my subconscious alarms. In fact, the only reason somepony as innocuous as he did so at all is because I made it my business to take an interest in those who took an interest in me.
Awareness was a skill that was constantly surprising me, demanding more and more effort as time went on. At first it was rote training, an aspect of my mother's regimen. Then it was practical, keeping an eye out for bad people as my merchant father plied his trade; apparently having just one guard makes someone a target. Too bad for them that that guard is my mother. Next, as I set out on my own, a lone mare on the road, it, and the wingblade hidden in my scarf, were the only things that had my back.
And yet, for all my supposed experience, I'd been unable to see that good deeds would not necessarily be reciprocated. Some people, especially those with immense reach, don't appreciate good intentions. They might even hold a grudge. Through my own folly, I found myself watching, extra aware of every person, analysing each move. For not everyone is who they appear to be and all it takes is one slip to cause an avalanche.
So I kept my eye on him, carefully meeting his gaze as I trotted toward the main doors. He seized up, looking like he was going to crumble under his own weight. He was either a good actor or easily impressed. Whatever the case, I'd need time to tell. I made a mental note to find out more about him.
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He started following me around. It was weird, but so unsubtle that my gut leaned heavily toward a genuine crush. I had to wonder if he even knew my name was Dusky Down or if he was simply too busy fawning to think about that. To be honest, I wasn’t sure which was preferable.
My sources, a perk of being my father's daughter, came back quickly and without anything mind-blowing. Night Flurry was the typical Cloudsdale-born weather pony, with a side of falling-out-with-family. Despite his disposition, he made a go at joining the Guard, but dropped out soon after. I figured his enrollment might have had something to do with the family and that they weren’t too pleased with his giving up.
Following that, he moved to Ponyville to take the night shift, which was just about a guaranteed solo job in smaller towns. Given his extreme aversion to meetings, I suspected he saw the solitude as an advantage.
At first, I wasn't sure how I wanted to deal with him. Even assuming my information was all there was to him, firsthoof observation is always preferable. It was too soon to confront him and besides, I had more pressing matters on my mind.
Among the more mundane reports, I received word, yet again, that the situation around Pasture continued to stagnate. For as much scrutiny as the mayor was under, he certainly had a knack for maintaining the status quo. Long before I’d even met my friend, Ivory, the mayor had set his sights on her. He was a greedy stallion looking to off the kindest pony I know, and all because she was in his way. I always worried for her safety, which was a little weird, given that her magical power far surpassed my martial prowess. I guess it might have had to do with the fact that she often pulled her punches.
And while winter had simply begun, the season in general always stirred up memories. Memories of shouting against the howling wind. Memories of the chill, colder than ice, that touched my spine when I realized that Twilight Sparkle; the Winter Wrap Up lead, a heroine of Equestria and the mare I was supposed to be guiding, had vanished into thin air.
I still had nightmares; dreams of a mob’s blood-crazed eyes, of a snowy white void swallowing my friend whole, of the empty eyes of a possessed unicorn before she unleashed a torrent of lightning.
No, I could deal with him later. And perhaps his blustering around might even scare off any real stalkers.
My first thoughts of major reconsideration happened about a month later. I was taking the long way home, treading one of my favourite paths; not that anypony could tell the path was even there. A delicate blanket of fresh snow stretched over the hills and dirt road alike. The only reason I even knew I was on the path was because I’d walked it more times than I could remember. No matter the season, there was just something beautiful and serene about the landscape.
I padded along, taking in the sounds of the soft powder creaking underhoof, while the fresh scent of undisturbed snow drifted up to my nostrils. I have nothing against the city, given that they’re usually the targets of my travels, but sometimes nothing can beat a quiet walk through the countryside. I suppose one could say that it reminded me of the open road, a warm nostalgia that could stave off my wanderlust for just a little longer.
As my eyes slipped over each drift and crevice, they were drawn to a fuzzy, blue blot. It was half-embedded into the snow with not a single hoof print around. I looked up, squinting as the sun snuck through bits of the overcast sky to jab at my eyes. No one in sight. Of course, I knew he was probably somewhere up there. The cloud cover was just too convenient.
I sighed as I approached the object. If I had to wager a guess, it would have been that he had lost some sort of outdoor wear and was too shy to come down while I was still here. The only catch with my theory was that I couldn't remember him ever wearing anything of that sort.
That was when I noticed the little yellow tag, the part that wasn’t stuck in the snow reading ‘To Dus’. My mind froze, several long seconds inching by as it did a double-take. Once I’d recovered, I wanted to fly right up to him and ask just what he thought dropping a random gift in my path would accomplish.
But I didn’t. The rational side of my mind stepped in, saying that while he didn’t know me, neither did I know him. It was not so long ago that I’d judged Ivory without really knowing her—and nearly lost a potential friend forever. If I could get past my reservations with necromancy, surely shyness wouldn’t be a problem.
I looked up again and called up to the clouds. “Thank, you!”
No reply but the wind. I’d hoped the gesture would persuade him to come down for a proper talk, but perhaps it was too little, too soon.
With a short sigh, I tucked the earmuffs under my wing and resumed my walk.
I felt a smirk spread across my lips as I caught the tip of a brown cowlick poking out of the clouds.