//------------------------------//
// Reality, Discord, and Pie 
// Story: A Delightful Journey 
// by FeverishPegasus 
//------------------------------//




I wake up to someone shoving a box into my face. It's Lyra, and it looks like she's seen Santa Claus.

“Whyyyy?” I groan, weakly trying to defend myself from her box-assault.

“It's the gloves! They're here!”

“And?! Couldn't you have waited 'till later?” Grumbling, I sit up, finally snatching the box out of her hooves.

“Open it, open it, open it,” she says while hoofing at the box.

I notice the box is sealed with tape. “Uhhh, do you have scissors or something?”

“You mean a tape cutter?”

“Yeah, that.”

Lyra dashes off, eager to get the box opened as soon as possible.

If she wanted me to open it so bad, she should've brought a tape cutter with her in the first place. I look down at the box. It definitely looks like it's meant to hold gloves. I smile at the bow stuck haphazardly on the side. It has a note latched onto it.

I read:

Dear, I apologize for the early delivery, but I had to ensure that Ponyville's newest resident received nothing but the best of service!

-Rarity

I can't help but feel a pang of guilt from what I'd said the last time we met.

Before I can dwell on it further, Lyra dashes into the room, balancing the tape cutter on her hoof. “Can I open it?”

“Sure,” I say, not in the mood to figure out yet another pony contraption. The tape cutter was clearly meant to be stuck on one hoof where a blade protruded from the other end. I give her the box.

She rips open the box like a coyote would a pigeon in times of scarcity.

Before I can react a pair of gloves hit me in the face.

“Put them on,” she says.

Of course, I try to resist the situation spinning quickly out of my control. “I'll put them on when I see fit.”

“Come on, come on, come oooooooon.” She says this next part with wide-open, innocent eyes. “Please?”

I sigh and put the gloves on my lap. “No.”

She scowls at me, then walks to her door. Plopping down, she says, “I've got all day.”

I look at her skeptically. “Don't you have street performing to do?”

“Nope, I'll just end up penniless. Starving, without a place to go, all because you didn't put on those gloves.”

I sit there, glaring at her for a few minutes. She eagerly returns it all the while.

Finally, I give up. “Sure, I wanted to try these things on anyway.” I slip on the gloves.

While I didn't know it at the time, I look like a marching band conductor with those gloves on.

Lyra dashes up to me. “Oooooh, that's so cool! It's like clothes...except for hands! Wiggle your fingers.”

I wiggle them.

She giggles. “That's so funny! Do it again.”

I wiggle them again.

Squealing with delight, she falls back onto her haunches. She covers her mouth with a hoof, suppressing more giggles. “Could you...could...could you do it one more time?”

I do it again.

She starts to crack up, but stops herself. I can see the pressure building up inside of her.

I wiggle my fingers again, saying, “Swiggity swooty,” with my best creepy face.

“Bwahahahaa!” Whatever restraint she had put herself on earlier is clearly broken now.

I chuckle, watching Lyra guffaw while sprawled out on the ground.

“Stop it, stop it, stop it,” she says, tapping her hoof on the ground as if she were tapping out in MMA.

I boop her nose in response.

The laughing stops and she sneezes, splattering me with light coat of pony snot. “Oops...”

It takes me a few moments to realize what'd just happened.

I try to wipe the snot off my face with my shirt. “Who knew you had a trigger?” I say, grimacing, but somehow chuckling at the same time.

“Ehehe. I didn't expect to touch me with you hand.” Her cheeks blush a little. “Sorry...”

“Haha, no, you're good.” I look at the millions of little droplets on my arm with a little bit of disgust. “You did ask me to stop. Just didn't think you'd sneeze. I bet it's good moisturizer anyways.”

“I take it you'll want to take a bath now,” she says, sounding sheepish.

“Yeah.” I say. “I needed one anyways.”

“Well, I'm not stopping you.”

I can't help but feel a little pang of sadness at how quickly that moment had gone sour. Maybe I can make up for it.

I head for the restroom, but not without adding, “You saw me naked; this is nothing.”

Just before closing the bathroom door behind me, I notice Bon Bon peeking out of her room, a horrified expression on her face.









I leave the bathroom, my damp clothes still clinging to me from the bathwater I'd roasted myself in. I can't help but sigh as the cold air in the house hits me, kinda like someone would sigh over a cold glass of water without a day of drinking anything.

I hear Lyra’s harp filtering through her door, and another door down, Bon Bon opens her’s to confront me.

Her facial is expression is apologetic, but resolute.

I try to avoid the inevitable conversation and look down at the floor while I sidle to Lyra's room. Just as I get my hand on her doorknob, Bon Bon stops me.

“I think we need to talk.”

Oh really?! “Ok, what's up?” I look at her, a little exasperated.

Oblivious to my stress, she continues. “About you and Lyra. Are you...you know...”

“No,” I say.

“Are you sure? 'Cause I heard what you were talking about.”

I pause for a moment, trying to keep this misunderstanding to a minimum. “I touched Lyra on the nose with my hand. She sneezed. Nothing more.”

“It's just the way you guys said it. Hon, there is no need to keep secrets from me. You know that right?”

“I do, and there is no secret here.”

Bon Bon sighs. “Well, seeing as you aren't willing to give in, I'll ask Lyra myself.”

“Nononono--”

“Hon, I'm going to find out the truth here.”

I take a few moments to keep myself from irrationally tearing my hair out. “Bon Bon, please. Just take my word for it. Things'll get really awkward if you ask her.”

“Hon, I'm not sure if that's even truth. Maybe you just don't want Lyra to squeal about what really happened in there.”

I watch in horror as Bon Bon snakes up to Lyra's door.









Laughter echoes in my ears as it rings out from Lyra's room.

“Bahahahaha! I what?!”

“Well, yeah. That's what I thought was going on.”

“Ehehe, poor human is probably blushing like a tomato wherever he is right now.”

“I didn't mean to pain him...”

“You know how he gets with nosy ponies Bon Bon.”

“Yeah...”

“You should be ashamed.”

“Now don't you go telling me I did something wrong. It was just natural curiosity!”

“You naughty pony you. Eavesdropping on us all the time. You might as well have had sex with human at the rate your interest is going.”

“Hey! Do you hear yourself right now?! Why would you even think that?!”

“Why did you think human and I were having sex?”

I hear Bon Bon stomp her hoof, or what I figured was Bon Bon stomping her hoof, and seconds later she comes bursting out of the door, beet-red angry.

She averts her gaze from me and makes a beeline for her room, some of the redness in her face no doubt due to embarrassment.

I choose to sit on the couch in the living room for a while, let the situation simmer out.

It doesn't take very long for Lyra to come stumbling out of her room, bored after relishing over the frustration she'd caused Bon Bon. She sneaks up to the bathroom and peeks in the door. “Human? You there?”

I comment from the couch. “I swear, you ponies will never understand the concept of privacy.”

“Eeep!” She jumps and whirls around to face me. “I-I, uh, I knew you weren't there.”

I grin. “Uh huh.”

“And I peeked in because, if you were still there, you might've passed out and started drowning yourself.”

“B-S.”

“Uh uh,” she says, while looking at me right in the eyes.

“It's nice to know you care for me,” I say, giving her the cheesiest smile I can muster.

“No problem.”

I sigh. “You always get your way with me, you know that?”

Here, she avoids my gaze. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“You cheeky bastard.”

“No, you're my cheeky bastard.”









“Soooo, you're completely fine with ditching your job for the fifth time this week?” I ask, very skeptical, and actually a little worried that I've been a bad influence on her.

“What's it mean to you?” Lyra asks.

“Well, I don't want to make you go broke.” I deftly avoid a few ponies crowded around a marketplace animal vendor.

Lyra gives me a radiant smile, accentuated by the brightly shining sun today. “Y'know about that thing with Pinkie?”

“What thing with Pinkie? We did lots of things with Pinkie.”

“You mean you did lots of things with Pinkie. Eating that cotton candy hair...”

“Hey!” I protest, shoving her to the side.

She bumps into a few ponies and they grumble in protest.

Lyra is unfazed. “Ahahaha. Besides that, I'm talking about the time she broke my harp string.”

I choose to give her a hard time now. “You mean you.”

“What do you mean me?”

“You broke your harp string.”

“No, Pinkie did.”

“It was your hoof that broke it. If you can't handle a little sudden excitement every now and then, can you really call yourself an experienced musician?”

“Hey! Sudden excitement doesn't compare to what Pinkie did. It was a deliberate attempt to frighten me. You know it too.”

I scratch my head knowingly. “I know...but a real musician would've been prepared for anything.”

“Says who? You?”

“No, only Octavia of course.”

Lyra looks at me as if I'd just eaten a raw goldfish. “Yeah right.”

“Where do you think I was all last night?”

“Anywhere but with Octavia.”

I look at her as if I'd just won the argument. “With Pinkie Pie, you can do anything.”

Lyra opens her mouth for a second, then decides against her retort. “Ok.”

Just as I'm about to gloat in my victory, Pinkie bounces her way in-between us, forcing us a few more inches apart. “He's lying!”

“No, don't you remember?” I say to her, trying to tip her off that I want her to play along.

“Liar,” she says, either completely missing my signals, or ignoring them. I can never tell with her.

I try to avoid Lyra's smirk from on the other side of Pinkie.

“How are you always in just the right place at the right time?” I ask her.

“It's a long story, but I can explain it if you want.”

I realize what her short stories entail, just before I'm about to say yes. “Y-no.”

“That sounded like both a yes and a no to me. Guess I'm just gonna have to split reality.”

“Wai--” I start.

“Too late!” she smiles at me. “You wont notice at least.”

“Oh...okay.”

“Luckily for you, you're in the dimension where I don't explain the story.”

“What happens to me in the other dimension?”









“Wai--” I start.

“Too late!” she smiles at me. “You wont notice at least.”

“Oh...okay.”

“Luckily for you, you're in the dimension where I explain the story.”

“What happens to me in the other dimension?”

“That doesn't matter now, I've got to explain what happened!”

“Uhhh, please spare me.”

“Nope! You see, a long time ago, as a filly, I wondered about what my special talent was. I grew up on a rock farm, and it wasn't exactly cutting it for me. I wanted to do something grand! Like win the Nostril Peace Prize or something. It didn't take me very long to find a cave where a bunch of abandoned zebra relics had been buried ages past. Funny thing is, I found it while doing my rock farming. Who knew that I'd find out about my secret talent while doing the boringest thing ever!”

“Who knew,” I remark sarcastically.

“Well, the first relic I dug up. I repeat, the first one, looked exactly like me! It was like I was destined to find that cave from the very beginning! You won't believe what I found when I turned the artifact over.”

“What was it?” I'm starting to get irritable.

“In ancient text, what appeared to be a two digit number. I figured out what it meant too. After talking to Twilight years later about this ancient writing, she said she recognized it. It took us a few hours, but we finally found a tome on these ancient writings. The number was as follows...” She pauses.

“Soooo, what was it?”

“You aren't going to guess?”

I roll my eyes. “Is it forty-two?”

“Nope! It was sixty-nine. It was then that I learned that that number had nothing to do with my special talent at all. I'd already gotten my cutie mark after throwing a party for my family at the rock farm ages ago!”

“I don't see how this applies to your ability to always be in the right place at the right time.”

“Of course it doesn't silly!”

I scrunch my forehead. “But...wait, weren't you just going to explain to me how you could do that?”

“Yes~, but you didn't let me finish! What I'm getting at here is that coincidences do happen, and while many of them involve me almost daily, that has nothing to do with an innate ability of mine to be in the right place at the right time. Let's just say that a side effect of mine involves a series of uncommon coincidences.”

It takes me a full thirty seconds to figure out what she just said. “Aaaaand, why do you have this side effect?”

“I had a fresh cup of really hot tea.”

My world goes dark.









“Ohhhhh, it doesn't matter. I don't expect it to last long anyways.”

I give her a look of concern. “So in the other dimension, I'll just stop existing?”

“Yeah, I wouldn't sweat it.”

“But I'm going to freak out in the other dimension! How do you think I'm going to feel when I realize that everything I know is about to stop?!”

“Oh you will not, did not, am not realizing it. I will, made, am making sure of that.”

I feel like Pinkie has suddenly taken to speaking another language. “What did you just say?”

“I...it'd probably be better if I didn't repeat that.”

I pause for a moment, but decide to let it go. If Pinkie has these alternate dimension powers like she says she has, she probably knows what she's doing.

She continues. “Where were you all headed?”

Lyra chooses to respond to her. “We were headed to the apple farm. They're holding a pie eating contest and we figured we could get some free food.”

“Oooh! Cool! I'm the two-time pie eating champion in case you didn't know. Big Mac's got nothing on me.”

I scrunch my eyebrows. “Big Mac?” Something about those two words rings a bell.

“Yeah, Big Macintosh. He's Applejack's sister. The biggest hunk of a stallion I've ever seen,” Pinkie responds. “There's a reason he can eat so many pies.”

“Can I meet him? He sounds awesome.”

“You're bound to if you go to the pie eating contest! Follow me!”

It's obvious that Lyra knew where we were going, but we decide to follow Pinkie anyways.









A few alleys and back roads later, we make it to the pie eating contest, where mobs of ponies run around making last minute preparations.

A cute little red maned, yellow coated pony bumps into my leg. She says in an adorable southern drawl, “Sorry stranger. 'm just in a rush is all.” She runs off to help another pony with a tablecloth, a little dazed after running into my leg.

I ask Pinkie, “You’re coming back to reclaim your title right?”

“Title for what?”

“The pie eating contest, why do you think you led us here?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

I scratch my head. “Weren't you the one that decided to lead us here in the first place?”

“No...yes...maybe.” She pauses for a moment, trying to reorganize her thoughts. “But yes, I've come back to reclaim my pie eating title.”

I look at Pinkie for a moment, noting how she really is the size of any other pony, not obese at all. “How do you even eat all those pies?”

“After eating rocks throughout your childhood, pies go down pretty easy.”

For once, Pinkie's logic makes sense to me. “That would work.”

We're interrupted by an old green pony speaking into a speakerphone. It isn't the one I argued with at the convention though. This one is female and has a white, springy mane. Her voice sounds a little strangled, as if her vocal chords twist around each other every time she speaks. “Now're y'all ready to eat pies or what? It's time for all you young-uns to stuff your ungrateful faces with pies until you vomit. Are. Yew. Ready?!”

“Yeah!!” A group of rowdy ponies look up to her with excited eyes.

“Well that's too bad, 'cause the pie eating contest ain't scheduled for another hour! Ahahahaha!”

I can't help but smile at her cackling.

Lyra notices, “What're you laughing about?”

“That old mare up there. She sounds like she'd be fun to hang out with.” I point to the pony yelling into the speakerphone.

“Oh, Granny Smith?” Lyra smiles too. “She's definitely somepony. Helped create this city and everything. You would've been lying dead in the fields by Everfree forest if she hadn't existed.”

“Weren't you the one that helped me though?”

“I wouldn't have been here if she hadn't founded this town. Ponyville is so far out in the middle of nowhere, it's a miracle she got it established.”

“Funny how things work like that.”

“Yeah.”

I see the yellow colt trotting back up to us.

“Hey mister,” she says, addressing me.

“Whats up?”

Her small brow furrows. “That's the dag blame weirdest thing I've heard somepony say. Still, I'd reckon the sky is up.”

There really is no getting angry at this colt with her cute accent. “I'm sorry. It's just a saying where I come from. It's kinda like asking why you just approached me.”

“I approached you to ask you a question.”

“What is it?”

“Would you be willin' to join the Apple family at their table right yonder? You seem new around here and we wanted to give you some extra hospitality.” She points to a table not ten feet from us. The tablecloth has the same checker-board pattern as the blanket Fluttershy and I had had a picnic on. On top of the red and white squares is perched a sign reading, 'Reserved'.

“You sure you guys wouldn't mind?”

“It'd be mah pleasure.”

“Sure...I guess. Would you mind I sat there right now?” I look up to see her already toddling to the table.

“Come on over!” she yells at us.

I take a seat and Lyra plops down next to me.

“Careful there, you might break them bench,” I remark. “These things are only made of wood you know.”

“Shut up,” she says, not even taking the effort to look at me.

The yellow mare buts in. “Well, y'all enjoy yourselves until we get back!”

“Thanks!” I say. After she walks out of earshot, I ask Lyra, “What's her name?”

“Applebloom. To spare you more questions, she's a sister of Applejack's. They both live at Sweet Apple Acres with Granny Smith and their brother Big Macintosh.” Lyra gazes lovingly at Applebloom, who's now working at the cider stand. “I don't know what happened to their parents, but they've been getting along really well on their own.”

“Applejack, Applebloom and Big Macintosh have to run the whole farm?!”

“Yeah. I hardly ever see her or her brother in the city, except when they're selling their apples or some other apple related substance.”

We let our conversation die out, more interested in the goings on around us.

The working ponies are now moving slower, happy with the knowledge that everything's going to be set up in time. There aren't many other events going on besides the main Apple Pie Eating Contest. The apple cider stand, an apple taffy stand, and a caramel apple making booth were all that served to split up the flow of pedestrians coming in from the main attraction.

It's clear where the pie eating contest is about to be held. Three long tables have been set up at the very center of the fiasco, meant for the main event about to be held in five minutes, made all too clear by Granny Smith.

“Are you hooligans ready?! I put my fake teeth on today for a reason! This is gonna be a hell of a doozy! Five minutes!”

I smile. Granny Smith’s definitely the pony to hang out with. Unlike that committee of elderly ponies...









At long last, Ms. Smith announces the start of the annual Pie Eating Contest. The contestants quickly stumble into a haphazard line, most with large stomachs due to the 'practicing' they'd done all year. I can see Pinkie Pie bouncing somewhere at the back, which is surprising, because I'd expect her eager self to be at the front of the line on the dot.

The hairs of my neck stand up. I can't help but get excited as the cheers of the spectating ponies rings in my ears.

“Are yew ready?!” Granny Smith cackles in the background.

“Yeah!” we all cheer.

Lyra looks at me, surprised.

I ignore her.

The ponies file to their chairs, some of them straining the wooden chairs underneath them.

I hear Granny Smith again.

“Alright you fat lards. Here's how these rules are gonna go. There is no time limit, so take your time. The only thing we're going to count is the number of empty pie pans near your nauseous faces. The pony with the most empty pie tins wins! I'll start from ten. Once I say go, you go!”

“Ten!”

Ponies dash around the contestants, laying one pie down for each.

“Nine!”

I can see Pinkie Pie quivering in her seat, eager to get started.

“Eight!”

All of the ponies sniff the wonderful aroma coming from the pies.

“Seven!”

A few start to drool.

“Six!”

I can see the resolve in some of the contestants breaking down. Some of them are making chewing motions in the air a few inches above the pies set in front of them.

“Five!”

Pinkie's quivering intensifies.

“Four!”

Most every contestant has his eyes shut, trying to zone out the smell of the pies, and the sounds of the ponies cheering.

“Three!”

Some ponies are clearly failing at this.

“Two!”

One pony loses his resolve and buries his face in the pie.

“Disqualification!” Granny smith yells right before, “One!”

The worker ponies usher the unfortunate soul out of the competition as the other ponies gulp under the strain of the pies' smells.

“Go!”

Everypony except for Pinkie dives in. Getting as much pie into their stomachs as fast as possible.

Pinkie, on the other hand, takes it at a quick, but regulated pace, which once again, surprises me. I'd never known her to be patient, especially with sweets involved.

*eight total pies later*

Half the ponies, already green in the face from the previous pies they'd eaten, attempt to dive into their ninth pie. One of them loses it, and vomits into the pie, creating a disgusting concoction of cooked apple and steaming apple 'sauce'. The other nauseous ponies give up immediately after seeing this, disheartened.

*sixteen total pies later*

Just two ponies remain. Big Macintosh and Pinkie Pie, and both seem to keep going strong. The last pony had dropped out at fifteen pies.

*twenty four total pies later*

I can hardly understand how this is physically possible. Stomachs aren't supposed to be able hold that much, and contestants aren't allowed to go for bathroom breaks. Still, both Big Macintosh and Pinkie Pie stay at it.

*twenty eight total pies later*

Big Macintosh is clearly under pressure. He is sweating floods, but doesn't appear to be nauseous like the other ponies were at eight pies. Pinkie Pie's slowing down too, but doesn't appear to be sweating, or showing any signs of discomfort.

*twenty nine total pies later*

Pinkie Pie's continues at an even slower pace, but show no signs of stopping. However, Big Macintosh quivers with each bite. Eventually, he gets to the end of his thirtieth pie. Before he can take the last bite, he promptly says “Nope” and passes out on the nearly-empty pie tin he'd been eating from. The worker ponies take him out on a stretcher, clearly practiced at this from other pie eating contests involving Big Macintosh.

All eyes turn to Pinkie as she takes the last few bites of her thirtieth pie, her eyes focused on nothing in particular. She does it.









All of the ponies watching cheer in exultation, astounded that Pinkie was able to keep up with a stallion as large as Big Macintosh.

Eventually, after the cheering dies away, Pinkie holds up a hoof, signaling a worker pony to come to her aid.

“You alright?”

She smiles at him. “Of course! I just wanted another pie!”

The crowd hushes and she continues.

“Comon already, I've just gotten started! The only reason I was eating slow is because I didn't want to make poor Macky feel embarrassed.”

The crowd laughs a nervous laugh, as if to say 'she can't be serious right?'

The worker obliges anyways, bringing Pinkie another pie.

Everybody watches as she dives into it, like a starving lion who'd just caught a gazelle, and they roar in approval, a pony here and there chuckling at the absolute absurdity of it all.

“That's Pinkie for ya,” one pony says, cuffing me on the shoulder.

“She's my friend,” I say.

“Hahaharrrr, your friend you say? Really?! Ahahaha, it's a wonder you've managed to make friends with her. Seriously, only being friends with every pony in Ponyville makes her difficult to approach.”

I frown at his sarcasm. “I guess I should've thought of that.” Wait, a pony that's sarcastic? I thought that was only Lyra.

A gray and brown misshapen beast sits next to me, either oblivious to the reserved sign, or purposely ignoring it.

I'm guessing the latter. “Hey, I don't mean to offend you, but this table is reserved for the Apple Family and friends.” I take a moment to look at the oddity next to me, who seems to be a messy amalgamation of something like a chicken, lion, dragon, ox, bat, and bird. Thinking about it now, it's impossible for me to match up the limbs and legs to the animals they were associated to. Lyra grins from next to me.

“Oh goody, that means I can stay! I'm a friend of the Apple Family.” The draconequus claps his hand and hoof together excitedly. “You know, I have to say, I haven't seen Applejack in quite some time. I hope she hasn't gotten lonely without me.” He snaps his hand and summons a kerchief, drying an eye dramatically. This doesn't surprise me in the least, considering I've already been exposed to levitation.

I see Applejack approaching from a distance, her facial expression anything but happy. In fact, she seems almost furious.


“I swear, Discord, if you're up to something, I'll buck to you so hard in the backside my hoof'll come outta yer mouth!”

He blushes, “Ooooh, at least buy me dinner first.”

I don't know what to make of Applejack's sudden hostility and Discord's playful attitude, so I just look down at the table, trying not to get involved.

“I promise ya, it won't be pleasant.”

“It's okay, I'm a masochist.”

She stomps the ground, but takes a moment to calm down. “Discord, I'm tryin' ta look good here in front of my guests and you're makin’ it very hard for me. Could you at least be nice to me for the time being?”

“Sure thing. I just want you to know that you were the one that started it, acting all hostile...”

“Yep.” Applejack turns to me. “So howd'ya enjoy the pie eating contest?”

“It was pretty cool,” I say. “Didn't know a pony could actually ingest that much food.”

She laughs. “Ahaha, that's Pinkie Pie for ya. She's still going at it now I think.”

We both look over to see Pinkie Pie continue in her pie eating, showing no restraint now.

Applejack's the first to find words again. “Dag blamed craziest thing I've ever seen. I swear, her pie eatin' skills exponentiate every year.”

“Yeah...” I trail off.

Discord speaks up from behind me. “Eh, that pony could still take a lesson or two from me.”

I look at him. “You're better at eating pies than her?”

He waves his hands furiously. “Oh nonono. I'll give that one to Pinkie. It's just she's got so much potential that she isn't using. Like as a partner in crime.”

It's Applejack's turn to stare at him. “Isn't Fluttershy that pony?”

“Yes, she is, but I want a pony that's willing to do things I want to do for once. Sure she goes on picnics with me, helps me brush my fur, and brushes her teeth with me, but that isn't chaotic at all. I want a pony I can cause trouble with.” He rubs his paw and hand together, while smiling mischievously.

Applejack grimaces. “Well, I'm glad you haven't met a pony like that yet. Regardless,” she looks at me. “I hope you enjoyed your stay. Applebloom told you earlier that we were gonna visit ya at this table during the contest, but we all got caught up with things to do. Sorry about that.”

“No problem,” I respond.

“Feel free to visit Sweet Apple Acres for a good time though. My family takes kindly to visitors, but as much as I would like to talk about my family, I've got to go help with clean up. Cy'all!” She trots away.

Discord turns to me. “Strange, you don't look like a pony at all. I thought I was the only monstrosity in this town.”

I look him up and down again. “Me too.”

“I say...how about you be my partner in crime? We'd be the dastardly duo.” He snaps his fingers and suddenly his neck is craned around my head, looking straight into my eyes. “What do you say?”

“I don't know...I don't think I'd be cut out for that kind of a job.”

He snaps his fingers, suddenly sitting right next to me again. “Who ever said this was a job? You'd be having oh-so-much fun.”

“Nah.”

Discord frowns. “Tsk, tsk, such a shame. You'd be a good contestant for it too. I can practically taste the chaos coming from you.” He takes a moment to look at Lyra. “Wait, is it because of your girlfriend here? You don't want to leave her huh?”

“She's not-” I start.

“He's not my boyfriend,” Lyra interjects.

Discord's yellow eyes glint with glee. “Oooh! Such quick responses. A bit touchy on this subject aren't we?”

Lyra answers. “No, I just want to make that clear.”

I can't help but feel a little hurt by that.

He leans over me toward Lyra. “It sure doesn't seem like it. You're just scared to admit the truth aren't you?”

Her face blushes a little. “Of course not. We're just friends.” She winces a little as Discord pinches one of her cheeks.

“Oooh, you're turning into a tomato~”

“Just like anybody else would if you asked them if they were boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“When I see a pony in love, I know a pony's in love. Just spill it already. You're head over heels in love with this human, with his...” Discord looks over me again. “Now that I think about it, he doesn't really have any remarkable features.”

It takes a lot of effort for me to keep from flipping him off. I look at Lyra, waiting for the 'let's go' signal.

She looks at me.

We simultaneously get up and leave Discord sitting at the table.

“Now hey guys,” he says from behind us while we walk away. “That's a little rude. I just wanted to be friends.”

We don't respond, but instead, pick up our pace.

He poofs into existence right next to us and kneels down. “Pleasepleasepleaseplease. I didn't mean to pick fun on you guys honest. I'm just a poor draconequus that doesn't know how to interact with the world yet.”

“He isn't,” Lyra says to me as we continue walking.

Discord teleports next to us again and pouts. “Fine then, I'll go tell Fluttershy on you.”

“Feel free,” Lyra remarks nonchalantly.

We leave him in the distance.









We get to the house, and lounge around in the living room for a bit, not really sure what to do now that the pie eating excitement had gone away.

“It's too early to go to sleep,” I remark dryly from the couch.

“Yeah,” she responds, sitting in one of the armchairs across from me. “I could try to teach you the harp...” She stops for a moment. “Nah.”

I slouch down a little bit, disappointed. “You wanna go do something?”

“Like what?”

“I don't care.”

A pause.

She looks at me and says nothing. Eventually, “Let's walk.”









The moon looks down at me, nestled in among its dark, speckled-white blankets. I feel like I am the moon, the night reverberating off my skin, so softly. Whether it's Lyra's company, or the wind, I can't tell, nor hardly care. Both of them are looking out for me this evening, altruistic forces steady by my side, even competing to comfort me. There is no sadness here.

I hear the clip-clop of her hooves, pounding the cobblestone beneath us, in tune to my own steady pat-pat. The idyllic night changes me, soothes my brain, makes walking almost laborious. I feel lazy, and yet don't wish to stop the urge to keep moving. The pattern needs to continue. Pat-pat. Clip-clop.

The hollow, no...the breathing wind speaks to me, whispering to me the struggles, livelihoods, and joys of ponies long gone, echoes of a long lost time, made more powerful by the instrument that had made those memories decay. Emotions run through me, reminiscing these deep, but intangible memories. I know full well that soon I'll be one too. Nothing but a whisper of wind, to be felt by the few ponies who walk at night...

Lyra shatters my whole line of thinking. “I know we both agreed to go walking, but I kinda figured talking was a part of the plan too. Stop with the glazed eyes and pay attention to me.”

I whisper under my breath, “Dammit.”

Her eyes narrow. “What?”

“You ruined my whole train of thought, I had myself all sentimental.”

“Sentiment's for the dead. I'd prefer to make my own stories now, and save the reminiscing for later.”

I look at her, still angry. “I, for one, find depth to sentiment. It makes me feel like my actions have weight. That's much better than blithely wandering through life without a care in the world.”

“Depth is a dangerous thing. Do too much wandering and you might lose yourself.”

I grin at this. “I like to live on the dangerous side.”

She waves it off, “Yeah, yeah. Try doing that when talking to ponies, maybe you'd get yourself to open up more.”

“Hey!”

“You have been getting better, I'll give you that.”

I try to regain my dignity, “Yes, yes I have.” I tilt my face up in a snobbish manner.

“Bahahaha! That look doesn't fit you at all.”

I exaggerate my snobbish demeanor. “How about now?” I say, sounding constricted.

She snorts, then punches me. “Stop it, there are ponies sleeping. I get loud when I'm out of control.”

“Would you call this out of control?” I ask, taking up the same snobbish look, except scrunching up my face even more.

She hisses and punches me again, harder. “I swear...” I can see the look of glee she's trying to repress in her eyes.

I start to push it further.

“NO,” she says, her voice quivering. The corners of her mouth are twitching. “I swear, if you do that again...”

I do it again, but really quickly before going back to looking normal again.

“Kkknpt,” she snorts. “S-sto-haha. STOP.”

I just look at her this time, triumphant. I know I've gotten under her skin, and she knows it too. Once again, I take up the form of the snob, this time saying, “I swear. Ponies these days just don't know how to act in society,” with the full regalia that some upper-class pony would adopt into their dialect.

“Gahaha! Screw you-ahahaha! I'm so sorry-ahaha! Shut me up human, just shut me up. I don't care what you do, but I can't be doing this right now.”

I see another wave of laughter coming up from her. Figuring that I've had my fun, I say something sobering. “I love you.”

“What?!” she exclaims.

I start to redden. Probably should've thought that through genius. “Sorry, I mean like a friend. You told me to stop the laughing and that's what I was trying to do.”

“Oh.”

I swear I see a little disappointment in her eyes.

We walk in silence some more.

Don't you get any ideas. It is not cool to have a horse as a girlfriend. Seriously, why would you even think you have feelings for her?

The wind dies down. I can no longer feel the voices.

Lyra starts the conversation back up, “You say that you like to reminisce; it gives you depth. How does that work? Ever since I was a filly, I would shy away from those thoughts, afraid of the idea that I'd stop existing. How is not existing a good thing?”

“I don't look at it like that. When you stop existing, you don't know about it. Why care? Yeah, it's a fantastic thing to live, to have fun, but wouldn't that be so much less valuable if we were all immortal? I feel like, to really have anything precious, it needs to come in a limited supply, otherwise we'll take it for-granted. Life wouldn't be special anymore, and walks like these wouldn't matter.”

She doesn't respond, and I can't blame her. It took me a long time to come to terms with that.

Eventually, we get to the outskirts of Ponyville, and I see the Everfree forest loom up in front of us. It's time to turn back.

I look at her and we turn around.









Lyra sits next to me as I slouch next to her scattered music pile in her room.

I pet her, running my hand through her mane. It's actually a lot softer than I'd imagined it would be. I feel my own hair in comparison. Nope, still scruffy.

It's soothing to pet her, and I don't plan on stopping. My hand rises and falls over her mint-green and white hair, over and over. In time with my breathing.




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