Big Macintosh did not like being angry. Granted, part of this was due to the fact that, like most negative emotions, feelings of outrage were almost always unpleasant experiences. But there was something about anger that was different from the other “bad” feelings like jealousy or despair; as noxious as those emotions were, their bile was mostly directed inward, which in Macintosh’s experience made them easier to harness. This was important, because the more control he had over his emotions, the easier it was to protect those around him from them. Before they could hurt his friends and family, they had to drill their way through the considerable barrier of self-control that Macintosh had carefully built over the years.
But anger was different, somehow. Anger seemed to be directed outwards as often as inwards, which made it much more difficult to keep it reined in. Indeed, Big Macintosh still felt a little guilty about how he’d snapped at Apple Bloom and her friends after the Gabby Gums incident. The muscular stallion idly shook his head to clear away those memories. The Crusaders were in enough trouble as it was without bringing past misdeeds into the picture—and besides, Apple Bloom wasn’t the only sister whose actions had irked him today.
Even though it seemed quite likely that Apple Bloom had behaved far more irresponsibly than she usually did, at the moment, Macintosh was finding it difficult to ignore Applejack’s decision to foist the founding members of SPHERE on him just so she could avoid dealing with them herself. Familiar though he was with every tree in the orchard, navigating his way through the fog was much harder when he had to focus so much energy on ignoring the two mares’ rather impassioned debate concerning their favorite sociopolitical issue.
“Look, what evidence do you actually have that the humans will be evil, anyway?”
Bon-Bon scoffed at Lyra’s rhetorically loaded question. “None, obviously, but that’s just as much evidence as you have that they won’t be.”
“But it’s better to give strangers the benefit of the doubt, isn’t it?”
“Ha! That’s rich coming from somepony who thought Zecora was going to steal her soul if she made eye contact with her.”
Lyra groaned as Bon-Bon brought up one of her more embarrassing personal failures, but she soon recovered. “Well, I was wrong, wasn’t I? Maybe you’re wrong about the humans.”
“At least I don’t need to worry about putting innocent ponies in danger if I’m wrong!”
“You will if they decide to change their minds about ponykind based on something stupid and thoughtless, like unwarranted blunt force trauma!”
Macintosh rolled his eyes as he turned around and spoke up. “Would y’all mind stayin’ focused? We’re s’posed ta be searchin’ right now. Y’all can worry about humans a bit later.”
At this, the two mares stopped dead in their tracks and stared at him with their jaws agape. “Are you out of your mind?” Lyra asked in shock. “The first contact between humans and ponies is going to be one of the most momentous events in the history of Equestria,” she said.
“And there’s every reason to think it might happen before the day is over,” Bon-Bon added. “The first impression that the humans have of us could have effects that last for years—decades, even!”
Macintosh sighed and rubbed his forehead before answering. “I get what you’re sayin’, but can’t it wait until my sister and her friends are safe?”
“But what if we find a human out here?” Lyra asked.
“We’ll cross that bridge if we get to it,” Macintosh replied. “But ’til then, can we please just stick to searchin’?”
Very reluctantly, both mares nodded their heads.
Macintosh smiled as he inhaled deeply, ready to holler out the Crusader’s names.
“I must admit, I’m kind of surprised that you care about the impression the humans will have of us,” Lyra said offhandedly to Bon-Bon.
“Of course I care,” Bon-Bon replied. “We can’t let them leave thinking we’re spineless pushovers, which is why a show of force is the only sensible approach.”
“There is nothing sensible about attacking them without provocation!” Lyra insisted.
“Oh, for Celestia’s sake, how many times does our community need to be assaulted before you admit that we’ve been provoked?!” Bon-Bon shouted back.
Macintosh’s incipient holler deflated through his pursed lips as his companions resumed their bickering. He stared out into the fog, wondering where his sister was and wishing that the two of them would do something constructive, because it was obvious that their pointless arguments weren’t going to help anypony.
September 2 – 1:25 PM
An additional twenty minutes of trudging through the fog hadn’t done much to improve Sweetie Belle’s mood. The fog was as thick as ever, the few trees she could see weren’t thinning out, and the gravel beneath her hooves appeared no different from from what had been there every other time she looked down to stare at the only thing close enough to be recognizable. Nothing, it seemed, had changed at all, and it was at this point that the worst possible thoughts entered her mind: What if I only imagined that bell? What if I mistook the direction I heard it coming from? What if I’ve actually been heading further from help this whole time? What if I let my friends down? What if they don’t survive? What if it’s my fault for not convincing them to stay at the party? What if...
What if I don’t last long enough to take the blame? That scenario, dreadful though it was to consider, seemed more and more likely. Sweetie Belle could no longer ignore her shivers, yet the fog had made her coat and mane so damp that it felt like she’d been sweating for hours. The numbness in her hooves now seemed to be creeping further up her legs, and the thought that her friends were likely in a similar state continued to weigh on her mind, crushing what little hope she had left. We’ve been acting like idiots this whole time. Why did we ever let this get so out of control?
“You know what? You’re just a racist!”
That’s one explanation, I guess. Maybe if we weren’t racists—wait, what? Sweetie Belle stopped in her tracks and blinked several times. She was almost certain that she’d heard a voice—and a pony voice at that. But by this point, rescue seemed almost too good to be true. Part of her didn’t want to believe that somepony was nearby in the fog, if only so she wouldn’t be disappointed to learn that the voice had only been in her head. On the other hoof, though, if a voice in her head was going to insult her, why wouldn’t it pick an insult that actually made sense?
“Oh yeah?! Well, you’re a... a... a big bedwetting doody head!”
There was no question this time: that second voice wasn’t in Sweetie Belle’s head. In fact, she was pretty sure it belonged to the candymaker who had inspired all this insanity in the first place, but that was neither here nor there. Somehow, miraculously, the unicorn filly had found exactly what she was looking for, and she wasn’t about to let it go to waste.
Sweetie Belle took in a deep breath and let out the loudest shout she could manage as she galloped blindly through the mist towards the argument.
September 2 – 1:39 PM
It hadn’t taken Big Macintosh very long to realize that Sweetie Belle didn’t have the foggiest idea where the other two Crusaders were; “in a ditch somewhere in the orchard” didn’t exactly narrow down the potential locations very much. Thus, he, Lyra, and Bon-Bon returned her to Ponyville as swiftly as they could. Once she was safe and warm inside the library, Sweetie Belle made a full confession—much to the chagrin of Bon-Bon, who was only now learning that the Cutie Mark Crusaders often had difficulty distinguishing between “warnings” and “suggestions.” Big Macintosh then led Bon-Bon and a rather smug Lyra out to the clock tower to sound the bell so the safety patrol could regroup and await their next set of instructions.
With Rarity tending to her sister and Pinkie Pie still running the bunker party, this left Fluttershy with only three of her advisors to assist her as she began working out a new plan. Applejack started by proposing the most obvious solution: “We’ll just have to work through Sweet Apple Acres all systematic-like. I’ll round up as many safety patrol volunteers as I can spare and line ’em up on one end of the Orchard, and we’ll just walk straight through an’ look for the Crusaders.”
Fluttershy sighed. “That’s probably a good plan, but I’m not sure we have enough time. If Sweetie Belle is correct, Apple Bloom and Scootaloo have been in the fog for nearly two hours now.”
“Yeah, and they’re not just lost,” Rainbow Dash added as she flitted nervously around the library, occasionally checking her fog suit to make sure it was still snug on her body. “They’re also hiding from Bon-Bon’s human things, which is gonna make it even harder to find them in time.”
“Thanks for the optimism,” Applejack replied testily.
“There’s no need to get angry,” Fluttershy said as calmly as possible. “Your idea is a good one, and I think you should go through with it. I just don’t think it should be the only thing we’re doing, that’s all.”
This seemed to satisfy Applejack, who nodded grimly. “In that case, y’all mind if I head out an’ get that started?”
Fluttershy agreed, and soon, the remaining ponies in the library heard another series of peals from the clock tower bell.
“Okay,” Twilight said. “If that’s plan ‘B,’ what are we going to do for a plan ‘A’?”
“I don’t know,” Rainbow Dash said as she landed on the floor. “It’s not like we can contact the Department of Weather and ask them for more north winds to push the fog faster. Well, I suppose technically we could, but that would take even longer than AJ’s idea.”
“Well, what if some pegasi do a series of low flyovers, right over the surface of the fog, and call out to them? If they call back, we’ll know exactly where they are,” Twilight Sparkle suggested after a few seconds of silent thinking.
“Eh, I’m not to sure about that, either,” Rainbow Dash said. “We don’t know for sure that they’re even conscious, and again, if they’re all spooked about humans, they might be too scared to raise their voices to answer us. Besides that, how on earth is a pegasus supposed to keep track of where he or she has searched? I mean, I know the fog itself is a light grey,” she said as she gestured towards one of the library’s windows, “but with visibility that low, it might as well be the middle of the night.”
“You’ve got a point there,” Fluttershy said, sounding as though she was musing to herself rather than making a direct response to Rainbow Dash’s observation. “Ponies may not be literally blind while in the fog, but it’s so hard to see that it’s like trying to find your way around in the dark.” Fluttershy’s ears suddenly perked up as her eyes slid back into focus. “Of course...”
“Do you have an idea, Fluttershy?” Twilight asked.
“I think so...” Fluttershy replied. “I mean, it would take care of the biggest problem, but there’s still the matter of getting in touch....”
“Uh, Fluttershy?” Rainbow Dash said as she tried to follow her friend’s train of thought. “You wanna elaborate?”
Fluttershy, however, directed her next statement towards Twilight. “Is Owlowiscious here at the library today?”
“Um, yeah,” Twilight said. “The last I saw him, he was sleeping on his perch in the kitchen.”
“I need to speak with him,” Fluttershy said firmly. Without waiting for a response, she swiftly walked over to the kitchen door and stepped inside.