“I’ve got to find her,” you say to yourself. As you fly just above the rooftops of Ponyville, the wind rushing past your face drowns out any chance of the words reaching your ears. An emotional fire burns in your heart, and freely-flowing adrenaline pushes your flight to extreme speeds.
You close your eyes briefly, if only to relieve the stinging sensation of the cold wind. Tingling numbness overtakes your right forehoof as it smacks into your stomach with a dull thud. Pulling your eyes open and daring to look behind you, a tan brick topples from a chimney that you just passed; a bright red stains its surface. A yellow glint catches your eye, as well.Your thoughts keep repeating the phrase over and over again.
You’re going to lose her.
You slow your flight, realising that at this speed you could fly past your quarry without noticing. Sweeping your gaze back and forth, Nurse Redheart is nowhere to be seen.
“She can’t have gone—”
An immense force drives your body downward. From behind, a pair of light-blue hooves rotate your body mid-air, just before you are slammed into a small patch of grass near the Ponyville park entrance. The forceful impact disorients you, but your adrenaline-filled body recovers quickly. Perched atop you is the same Pegasus stallion that you had seen at the noodle restaurant; rage fills his eyes. In his hooves, you are held completely immobile.
“Nighthawk, what the buck is wrong with you?!” a commanding female voice yells from your side, but your attention is focused on wriggling out of your captor’s grasp. You are barely able to wrench your right forehoof away. With all of your strength, you swing it at the stallion atop you. A cracking can be felt through your hoof, and a deep red liquid sprays out onto the ground. The force of your blow throws the stallion onto the ground beside you, knocked out cold. Before you can move a, yellow hoof pins your bloodied forehoof back down to the ground. The mare presses her toe violently against the bottom of your sole. Within seconds, your body is completely paralyzed in immense pain. It takes all of your mental focus to supress your body’s urge to uncontrollably vomit.
“I’m going to ask you again! What is going on?!” The fiery mare yells into your face, her hoof pressing into yours even harder. With the pain completely overwhelming your mind, you answer to the best of your limited ability.
“I need to... find my marefriend... She’s crying…” You can feel as your cognitive ability slows, and darkness creeps into the corners of your vision. The pressure on your hoof relaxes, bringing your senses back to normal.
“She’s outside that damn restaurant, where you dumped her flank in the dirt”
“What? She ran off when your friend shoved her tongue down my throat!”
“Wait, what?”
“You heard me! I used to be a Wonderbolt, so, if you don’t want to end up like him,” you motion your free hoof to the completely unconscious Pegasus next to you, “I suggest you get the buck off of me!” The pained moans and gasps throughout the statement detract from your threat.
“Used to—” A blinding purple flash erupts from nowhere and deposits Twilight Sparkle and that crying mare in its wake. The fiery-maned mare’s gaze is drawn to the two new ponies.
“Spitfire, get off of him! Can’t you see that you’re hurting him?” The cyan mare roughly rams into the yellow torture-master. Kneeling down by your blood soaked hoof, she gently cradles it in her forehooves before speaking to the yellow mare again, sounding devastated. “You broke his hoof?”
“No, he did that when he ran into a chimney,” Spitfire responded, still quite cross sounding.
“And you still crushed it. He might not be able to walk for months, now!” You're confused as to why this mare is being nice to you after you tossed her into the dirt.
“He was out of control—”
“JUST TAKE YOUR SORRY FLANK AND LEAVE US THE BUCK ALONE!”
“Fine, you’re on your own with this…” The peeved pony throws her unconscious compatriot onto her back and trots off into the night, with a confused and stunned Twilight Sparkle in tow. The cyan pony examines your hoof more closely, gently trying to brush away some of the blood-soaked mud that has adhered to your fetlock.
“You need to see a doctor about this.” A certain Nurse, that you would really like to see, comes to mind. “But for now, we need to wash it out.” She looks down at you with those big green eyes; tears no longer hide their stunning beauty. Something about them calms the nagging in your mind. “There’s a stream over here that we can clean it up in. Follow me.” Pushing yourself to your hooves, you take wing behind her. You’re not sure why you end up following the complete stranger into the park, or why you trust her at all. After a quick flight, you alight at the edge of a small stream that cuts a path through the entirety of the park. Benches and varying forms of fauna line its banks, cool air seems to radiate off of it, and a light fog clings to the water itself. Kneeling at the water's edge, you dip your injured hoof into the surprisingly cold water; it seems to dull the pain that throbs through your broken appendage. Luna’s large moon gives off enough light to see the red-brown tint downstream from your hoof. The cyan mare kneels next to you. Once again, she grasps your hoof in her own, and begins caressing it ever-so-gently as the cold water washes away your pain.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” Her voice pierces the silence, bringing her apparent sadness to the calm of the night.
“I don’t remember anypony.” She pulls your hoof from the water, inspecting it again before putting it to rest on your uninjured forehoof.
“I’m sorry Spitfire and Soarin’ were so rough. We didn’t know what happened to you, or why you were acting so strangely.” The cyan mare scoots in closer to you and rests her head on your shoulder. At first, you want to shrug her off, but when you see her face, you just can’t bring yourself to do it; her emerald eyes return your gaze, their sorrow is clearly evident.
You’re going to lose her.
A single shudder passes through your body and the stinging heat of tears forces your eyes closed. You turn your thoughts to the happiness you had with Nurse Redheart. When trying to find the serenity in the memory of her sleeping face, it only brings is more fear and uncertainty.
“Twilight Sparkle told us you were dead, but then she dragged us out of her library without a word as to why. And after hours of, what I thought was meaningless wandering, there you were, alive and seemingly fine." She pauses, taking a deep breath "And then, my entire world shattered, for the second time today.” As they reach your coat, drops of cool liquid mix with her warm breath. The words Spitfire spoke earlier play through your mind, bringing even more confusion in their wake.
“Who are you?” she pulls away from your shoulder. Her white mane still covers most of her face, but behind it you can see her eyes glistening with tears, yet again.
“Echo Fleetfoot, the fastest Wonderbolt flier,” she says, flatly.
“…To me. Who are you, to me?” She looks away, staring upstream, seemingly at nothing.
“For the last 12 years, I was your marefriend.” She brushes her mane out of her eyes, and turns back to gaze into yours. For a moment, at least, those shining emeralds lull you into a sense of calm. Slowly, she presses her forehead against yours; her breath washes over your face again and brings the cool of a spring rain to this autumn evening. “Even if you leave me for Redheart, I always have and will love you with all my being.” Her lips press against yours in a soft, loving kiss that your heart burns to return, much to your brain’s chagrin.
You’re going to lose her.
You quickly pull away and your eyes shoot open wide upon realisation of what you just did. Your quick movement seems to have startled the cyan mare, as well.
“I’m sorry, Birdy. I don’t want you to resent me for forcing you to kiss me, but this is so hard. Just seeing you like this hurts so much.”
“Echo, I’m sorry—” Her cyan hoof stops you, before you can finish.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” She pulls you into a gentle hug and nuzzles your face softly. Her frazzled mane tickles your ear, causing it to twitch reflexively. “Birdy,” she speaks quietly into your ear, “I want to go with you, to find Redheart. I want to explain this to her.”
“Are you sure? I haven’t seen her angry. So, I don’t know how what she will do when she sees you.”
“I want you to be happy, and if I have to bore the brunt of her anger so that you can. I’m fine with that.”
You nod, rise, and unfurl your wings, ready and eager to find your marefriend.
***
It didn’t take you long to search every viable location in Ponyville for the pony you were trying to find, but your hunt was fruitless. You gingerly touch down outside Nurse Redheart’s home and find the door left wildly open; it bangs against the wall as the autumn wind pushes it around roughly. Moving into the living room slowly, the darkness enshrouds you. As you limp over to the hallway, a deep blue glow can be seen through the bedroom door.
“Wait here,” you say quietly, to your accomplice.
The sound of muffled sniffling and ragged breathing emanates from the room as you carefully approach the open door.
“Red, are you ok?” You try to sound as calm and soothing as possible, but it mostly comes out as a worried whimper. Finally taking in the view of the dark room, deep blue-purple light – that is strangely similar to the colour of your coat – floods a large square recess in the ceiling and bathes the room in an eerie purple glow. On the Far side of the bed is a pony sized lump under the linens, trembling at random. As you move to her, your three hooves make an uneven clopping on the floor. You sit on your haunches when you reach the edge of her bed.
“Please go… I don’t want you to see me like this.” The way her voice wavers, from her weeping, nearly causes your heart to stop. Without hesitation, you throw back the corner of the linens; even if you draw her anger for ignoring her wishes, you had to act. The despondency in her voice was something you felt she should never experience. Much to your relief, Nurse Redheart doesn’t seem angry; she simply shrinks back further into her refuge and hides behind a mass of her own brightly glowing pink mane. A florescent cyan stain was left where the bed had absorbed its fair share of tears. Careful not to lie on your injured hoof, slide yourself into the bed in front of her and clear the weeping pony’s mane from her face. Your vision is assaulted with a wave of bright colours when the strange light meets the troubled mare’s eyes. Her eyes shine with an ethereal azure framed by the fluorescing cyan of tears matted into her face. If the situation were different, you could get lost in her accentuated beauty. With your good forehoof, you pull her into a tight embrace, nuzzling her damp cheek.
“I’m sorry, Red. I can’t imagine how bad it must have felt to see me kissing another mare.” You try to straighten out the tangled mess of a mane in front of you to comfort her. As you run your hoof through it, she reflexively presses into your grasp, whimpering softly.
“Please stop crying. I love you so much, and a couple of kisses from a mare I don’t know won’t change that.” You nearly die when you realise what you just said. The white mare pulls her head back quickly, to look you in the eyes; the glare you’re given did kill you, you’re sure of it.
“A couple?! YOU KISSED HER AGAIN?!” With all four hooves, she roughly shoves you out of the bed and onto the floor. You land on your right hooves; searing pain shoots through your leg. As you climb to your hooves and begin following her, you can hear the clopping of hooves as she canters into the living room and turns on the light.
“What in the hell are you doing here?! You have the nerve to kiss my coltfriend, and then come into my house!!” You pick up the pace, scurrying as fast as you can on three legs. Entering the living room, you are just in time to see Nurse Redheart slap the cyan mare in the face, not once, but twice; each impact sends a loud clop through the large room. Moving quickly, you absentmindedly grasp the white mare’s right forehoof in your own before she can lash out a third time. Shortly afterward, her hoof bats yours away forcefully, as she stares daggers at the cyan mare in front of her. The power of the impact throws blood from your newly re-opened wound in a wide arc; some of it lands on the couch and floor, but most of it sprays onto the Pegasus’ face and mane. It slowly mixes with her own blood, dripping from the corner of her mouth. Upon seeing the red liquid, the nurse’s mood changes immediately.
“Oh my goddess,” she says, rushing off towards the bathroom. She returns moments later with a towel and a large, red duffel sporting a white cross, with a look of determination on her face. The white mare hands the towel to Fleetfoot, who immediately begins to wipe the blood from her face. Dropping the red bag on the couch, Nurse Redheart throws the bag’s zipper open with her teeth. It spills open, revealing enough medical supplies to keep the clinic running for a week.
“Sit,” she commands coldly, as she grabs a large piece of gauze. After wiping the pooled blood from your hoof, the white mare applies a liquid to the gash. You bite your tongue in an attempt to dull the stinging sensation it brings. Fetching a needle, she sutures up the gash in your hoof, and under her expert care you barely feel the needle enter the tender flesh. Once finished, she packs up the first-aid bag, and goes to put it away.
“Are you ok, Echo?” you ask, a little concerned that she had tagged along.
“Heh. I’m a Wonderbolt, remember. I’ve survived a lot worse than being slapped by some filly.”
Moments later, the pink-maned pony emerges from the hallway, and leans against the wall where the hallway meets the room.
“So, you knew each other before the accident, then.” Her expression lacks any emotion and the calm, coldness in her voice brings you more fear than her anger.
“We knew each other for 12 years.” The cyan pony responds, somewhat cautiously.
“And you were clearly close.” Fleetfoot nods in acknowledgement. The white mare’s blank gaze shifts to the floor in front of her hooves. Her legs start to shake as she speaks again. “And you came back here to tell me that you were leaving me for her.”
“What? No!” you exclaim, rushing over to her. You reach her just as her legs give out, and are barely able to catch her in your forehooves. As her guise completely fails, she weeps softly into the crook your foreleg. placing a hoof on her cheek, you raise her face from its resting place; pressing forward, you softly kiss your marefriend, showing all of your love for the wonderful mare. A female whimper can be heard in the background, but your mind is too pre-occupied to take note. You watch as her blue eyes lazily slide shut, and she returns the kiss full force. You break the kiss before either of you get too carried away. For a moment, you happily gaze into the lovely mare’s eyes, before wiping her pooled tears away. A sniffle draws your combined attention back to the second present mare. She has taken a seat on the couch, and stares out the bay window at Luna’s stunning moon. You can see its light reflecting from her teary eyes.
“So why are you here?” Nurse Redheart says through squinted eyes, anger fills her voice.
“I don’t know,” She says, her voice cracking as she fights back tears, “but I think it was a mistake.” The Pegasus leaps from the couch and charges out of the house. Before your brain can react, your body is following her. She stops just outside, and looks into your eyes one more time.
“Goodbye, Birdy.” Her wings flare, she turns, and begins to take off; your throat clenches with the familiar feeling of sadness.
“Echo,” you choke out. She pauses and cocks her head over her shoulder, listening. “This doesn’t have to be goodbye.”
With a sigh, she responds, “Yes, Birdy, it does.”
You barely see when she mouths three very important words, and then flies off into the darkness, without looking back.
When you re-enter the living room, Nurse Redheart is nowhere to be seen, and looking down the hallway, the bedroom door has been shut. You sigh, taking a seat on the couch. The crinkling of smashed paper surprises you and causes you to bolt back upright. Taking the paper in hoof, you read it to yourself.
"You can sleep on the couch, we'll talk in the morning."