//------------------------------// // Chapter 17 - Fishy // Story: Hope and Changeling // by FrontSevens //------------------------------// The daisy sandwich was tolerable.  As long as it had extra mayonnaise, and I held my nose while eating it, and I pretended I wasn’t eating raw plants, it was entirely edible.  Additionally, fries made of hay taste just fine with half a bottle of ketchup.   After I had finished the last of my three refills of water, the wheat sisters and I made our way through the crowd and out of Fairflanks.  The sun told us it was now past noon and the temperature was likely to drop.  I very much looked forward to it, seeing as we wouldn’t be in the shade of a city for much longer.   We left the outskirts of the city and got a glimpse of the path ahead of us.  More plains, even plainer than the last ones, lay almost perfectly flat for miles around.  I closed my eyes, remembering one last time what not-flat land looked like before I forgot and possibly developed a mental condition.   Just as we had left Fairflanks and prepared ourselves for the hours of journeying ahead, a voice called out from behind us.  “Wait!  Wait up!”   We turned around to see a white shock of hair bobbing up and down.  As it got closer, the pony became clearer: white hair, blue fur, glasses.  It was Lucid.   “Hi!  Sorry about that, I meant to catch up with you.”  Lucid paused for a moment to catch his breath.   I wanted to smile and welcome him back, but I didn’t.  Instead, I sat down and pursed my lips, looking down on him.  At this point, I was ticked that he had stormed off without saying why.  So, I reflected some of the pride he had shown me earlier.  “What is it?”   “I’m sorry,” he said.  “I didn’t mean to run off on you three like that.  I was angry at the time.  I’m sorry.”   That was quick of him to apologize.  It had only been, what, fifteen minutes?  Still, only an apology wasn’t going to cut it.  “That’s not enough,” I said.  “You had me scared, there.  We need you to see the princess.”   Lucid faltered, but Whole Grain spoke up.  “We wouldn’t need him to see the princess.  Anypony can see the princess.”   “That may be so, but he was there with the princess when… well, you know, when I got here.”   “Oh, of course I know,” Whole Grain mumbled.  “The hushy-hush ‘trust me’ thing.”   I ignored that, turning to Lucid.  “Still, you can’t do that again, you understand?  I need you with us.”   Lucid smiled, pulling up his glasses.  “Thank you.  And I do understand, I won’t do that again, I swear.”   “Copper, think twice about this.”  Whole Grain turned to fully face me.  She always had her doubts, and I was beginning to think it was because of paranoia.  “This guy almost ran off with half our bits.”   “He was just frustrated,” I said.  I understood—people could do crazy things when they were emotional.   Wheat Flour piped up.  “You almost left, too.”   “Yes, but—”  Whole Grain glowered at her sister.  “Wheat Flour…”   I looked in a different direction for a few seconds, letting Whole Grain think it over.  I stared at my hooves, twiddling them.  Well, doing something as close to twiddling with them as I could.  It was more of a simple up-and-down movement.   Before she was done thinking it over, I said, “Please, Whole Grain.  He’s come this far with us.  We can’t just leave him here.”   She closed her eyes and shook her head.  “Fine,” Whole Grain said.  “But he has to stay with us, all the way to Vanhoover.  If he leaves again, no more chances.”                                                                                                                                   Fair enough.  We’d just have to curtail squabbles pertaining to talent shows and/or money before they got out of hand.  I turned to Lucid.  “Next time, talk it out with us.  We have to stick together.  Promise?”   He nodded slowly.  “Sure thing.”   “Well, now that we’ve all made amends, let’s continue.”  Whole Grain took the lead and began walking down the trail.  We followed suit.   Not a minute later, we heard yet another call from behind us.  “Hey!  You guys!”   Without even looking behind her, Whole Grain covered her face with her hoof.  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”   Fairweather zoomed in from the city, flying right at us.  She slowed down before she got to us, landing softly on the ground.  Her expression changed from agitated to ashamed, and her wings drooped along with her ears.  “I just wanted to tell you guys I’m sorry.”   Whole Grain threw her hooves up in the air.  “You too, huh?  This is just a day of redemption, isn’t it?  Let’s just forgive everypony and bring them all along to Canterlot.  Let’s throw a party and group hug and pass out free rainbows and gallop off into the sunset.”   I had to admit, this was uncanny timing, both of these ponies catching up to us to apologize.  “Just hear her out,” I said.  “One minute.”   Whole Grain’s brows furrowed, then they relaxed in some sort of revelation.  She motioned me to walk with her, and we distanced ourselves from the group.   “Something’s up, Copper,” she said.  “Don’t you find anything suspicious about this?”   “No,” I said.  “Why?”   “Just… something feels off.  You didn’t invite any changelings with us, right?”   I gaped a little.  “Of course not.  Why would you think that?”   She glared at Lucid and Fairweather.  “Why would both of these two apologize so quickly?  Some changelings looking for cheap love?”  She shook her head.  “We can’t have them around.”   I looked at Fairweather and paused.  Could they be changelings?  But, where would they have come from?  The hive in Vanhoover, from what I understood, was much too far from here.  The chance that they were changelings was low.  This seemed like more evidence that Whole Grain was paranoid.  “The hive’s in Vanhoover, though.”   “Yeah, but what about 4 N 7?  He made it all the way out here somehow.”   “He’s… an anomaly,” I said.  “Vanhoover hadn’t heard of changelings before the whole hive thing, right?  And isn’t that true with the rest of this country?”  Honeydew hadn’t heard of them.   Whole Grain pursed her lips.  “Right, but who’s to say they hadn’t been discovered until then?”   I gave that some thought.  Undercover changelings were possible, but still didn’t make sense.  That changelings had never been discovered in this land meant that not even one changeling had slipped up and revealed his identity.  And if that was true, then this was a nationwide conspiracy, and if we attempted to unravel something that big, we’d only find trouble.   “It’s still so unlikely,” I said.  “But if I see something fishy, I’ll let you know.  Besides, wouldn’t it be easy to tell if Fairweather’s not the real Fairweather?”   Whole Grain smirked.  “If she’s not mind-numbingly annoying, something’s wrong.”   “Exactly.”  I smiled.  As I turned back to the main group, Whole Grain halted me for a moment.   “Anything fishy, okay?  Let me know.”  She looked at me, not sternly, but with concern.  “I take this stuff seriously.”   I nodded.  “Anything fishy.  You’ll be the first to know.”   “Thanks.”  We locked eyes briefly, and in that moment, I believed that she wasn’t the type of pony who would slug someone in the face multiple times.  I’d still have to be careful around her, but maybe I didn’t have to tread as lightly anymore.   On that note, we rejoined the group, and I bid Fairweather to continue.  “Go on.”   “Look, um.”  She drew circles in the ground, shy like a kid who had accidentally broken his neighbor’s window with a baseball.   “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.  I didn’t know they weren’t your parents.  I got really excited, you know?  It’s because, well, I…  no, never mind.”   “Just tell us,” Whole Grain said, folding her arms.  “We’re right here.”   “Whole Grain…”  Wheat Flour put her hoof on her sister’s shoulder.  She turned to Fairweather and smiled.  “If you aren’t comfortable telling us, we will not make you.”   “No, it’s okay.”  Fairweather took a breath.  “I, you know, I used to have parents, but I don’t anymore.  And I thought you’d be happy if you talked with yours.  I just, I don’t know.”  She looked away.  “I didn’t mean for it to go like that.  I’m sorry.”   Oh, um.  Blowing up at her was one thing to be guilty of, but this…  She didn’t have parents, from death or abandonment or otherwise.  And I treated her like crap.  I mean, her heart was in the right place and everything.   I was lucky, in the sense that I had parents.  Yes, I no longer kept in touch with them, but they were still alive.  And if Fairweather was as young as she seemed, then she had had to deal with her parents’ departure before adulthood.  It was tragic.   “I like making new friends, you know?  Was really happy when you guys came.”  She chuckled and gave a flap of her wings.  “I like company, and… and I feel bad that I made you angry.”  She pawed at the ground again.  “I’m sorry.”   “It’s okay,” I said.  I reached out and lay a hoof on her shoulder.  “I forgive you.”   “Thanks,” she said, her smile returning to her face.  “And, well, if you guys really don’t mind, I’d like to stick around.  I promise I won’t be a hassle or anything.  I won’t even hum.”  Her smile widened to prove her resolve to us.   I looked to Whole Grain.  She was the only one who seemed to have any objection to this.  Though obviously hesitant to do so, she caved.  “Fine.  You can come with, too.”   “Thanks!”  Fairweather did a happy flip and trotted down the road.  Silently, I might add.  So, gratefully, we followed her.   We travelled well on into the afternoon.  Conversation was minimal in the first hour or so.  However, Fairweather tried to chat with us once or twice, and Lucid began to humour her.  By the time the sun was between its highest point and sunset, Fairweather was running her mouth longer than a triathlete.   She talked about all sorts of things, like her favourite music, or the one time she visited Las Pegasus, or everyday things like her routine, her thoughts about the current day, and so on.  She talked about everything and anything she could think of, it seemed.  Lucid was quite content in listening, but the rest of us had had enough for a while.  We hung back as Fairweather chatted away, occasionally flying up and around the clouds when she got excited.   As the afternoon progressed, Fairweather became tired, the plains got plainer, and the sun dropped lower in the sky.  It hung at about an hour from sunset when we came to the edge of a forest.  The trees had broad leaves here, as opposed to the coniferous Vanhoover woods.  It seemed peaceful and tranquil enough.  It was more variety than miles of plains in every direction, that was for sure.   Since no one had talked in a while, I felt like lightening the mood.  “Thank goodness,” I said.  “A break from plains.”   Whole Grain chuckled.  “Just be glad it’s not the Everfree.”   “The Everfree?” I asked.   “A patch of forest south of Canterlot,” Wheat Flour said.  “It is an odd place.”   “And dangerous,” Fairweather added.  “It’s only home to some of the most terrifying and deadly creatures in all of Equestria!”  She stood up on her hind legs and raised her arms menacingly.  “Manticores, timberwolves, cocka—mmph!”   Whole Grain’s hoof stopped Fairweather before she could list any more.  “For Celestia’s sake, Fairweather.  All things considered, it’s not that dangerous.”   “And it’s not this forest,” Lucid said with a roll of his eyes.  “Come on, let’s go.”   We carried on into the forest silently.  Ten minutes in, we spotted a stern-faced zebra ahead, guarding a fork in the road.  A silver piece of jewelry around his neck gleamed in the sunlight.   I wanted to see if this animal was able to talk, too.  If a cow could, why couldn’t a zebra?  I walked up to him first and extended my hoof.  “Hello, sir.  How are you—”   But this one didn’t talk.  Before I could finish speaking, he pressed his nose to my neck and sniffed.  Yes, sniffed.  Took a long breath in through his nose.  I froze, hoping this wasn’t a wild animal about to bite my head off.   After the zebra’s nose had its fill, he retracted his head.  His pupils narrowed, and I shivered under his gaze.  “You.  Come with me,” he said.   Oh, phew.  He was at least a talking head-hungry animal.   He led me down the leftward path in the fork, and the rest followed.  Curious, I glanced down the other path while I could.  All I was able to catch was the glint of a lake down between the trees.   “An odd greeting,” Lucid remarked in a low voice.  Whole Grain nodded, not taking her eyes off the zebra.   “I hear it’s common in Saddle Arabia,” Fairweather said, ducking so the zebra wouldn’t overhear her.   That would’ve been weird.  Smelling someone?  Though, these were animals, so it was possible…  “That’s not actually a way of greeting someone, is it?” I whispered.   Lucid shrugged.  “You never know.  Never been around these parts, myself.”   “You know, I was actually kidding,” Fairweather said, grinning.   “I wasn’t,” Lucid said.  He looked like he was about to say more, but stopped.  I wondered if it really was the way that zebras greeted other people.  Well, it wouldn’t be the first time I’d have to learn to fit in.   He led us further down the road, which led into small village.  The foliage above opened up into a clearing, and the evening sun shone warmly onto the grass.   Several quaint huts were staggered about the area.  Some were built from wood, and some were built right into thick trees.  Jugs, cups, and other containers, all of them sealed in some way, were strung by rope over most of the doorways.  The faint sound of drums and a violin could be heard a little further into the village.  A pleasant smell seemed to be emanating from the same direction.   “Hi!” A pink pony said as she approached me.  She smiled and stuck out her hoof.   I looked at it and hesitated, but if this was the way to greet ponies, then this was the way.  I leaned in and took a quick sniff of her neck.  Her fur kind of smelled like strawberries.   Backing away immediately, she grimaced and tried to smile out of politeness at the same time.  The result was a mildly uncomfortable and awkward look.  She scurried away, and Fairweather snickered.  “I can’t believe you actually did that,” she said.   I felt my face flushing.  “I don’t either, and I don’t think I will again.”   Wheat Flour nodded.  “Good idea.”   A couple of ponies were milling about, though no one seemed too busy to say hi to us.  Some of them even walked up to the zebra leading us and greeted him.  There seemed to be a greeting ritual; they grabbed each other’s hoof and let go in one swift motion.  Much different from one thrusting their nose to the other’s neck and smelling.   The zebra led us to a hut not far into the village.  We filed inside, and it seemed in somewhat sorry shape.   A plain wooden table and two chairs made up the centerpiece of the room.  Books were piled in one corner, and assorted trinkets in another, even though both were underneath a set of empty shelves.  A few clocks and paintings were hanging on the walls, but most were slightly tilted and with a thin layer of dust on them.  This house had even less organization than mine.   A voice called out to us from another room in the hut.  “Hello?  Who’s there?”  It sounded a little gravelly, like an elderly person.  Not too advanced, but up there in years.   “Us,” I said intelligently.  “We were, uh, led here by a zebra.”   “Oh!  Yes, Fareeso.  He don’t seem it, but he’s got an honest heart.  Takes his job too seriously sometime.”  A clatter echoed from the doorway in the back.  “Whoops!”   “Need any help in there?” Wheat Flour asked.   “I think I’ll be all right,” came the reply.  “Thanks much, though.”   Whole Grain tapped her hoof on the ground, kicking up a small cloud of dirt.  “Is this important?  We have to get going soon.”   Fairweather smiled.  “It’s almost night-time.  I think we can stay the night.”   “Yes, you should,” the voice called out.  “Forest is a big place.  It’s easy to get lost, ‘specially at night.”   Whole Grain shrugged as we heard more shuffling.   “Sorry ‘bout that.  Now…”   The source of the voice stepped into view.  He was the same height and shape of a pony, but something was off.  His coat was light blue and had a sheen—something close to shiny, but not quite pearly.  His grey hair was a little webby, and stuck forward a little like a mohawk.  His pupils were light blue, but the whites of them were not quite white.  They had a subtle cyan tint to them.   “Any of you folk changelings?”  He coughed and cleared his throat.  “All?  Some?  One?”   A little nervous, I stepped forward and raised my hoof.  “Hi.”   “Just you, eh?”  He tilted his head a little, causing an earring in his left ear to dangle.   I looked around at the group as all eyes were on me.  “Yeah, I think so.”   “Well, then.”  He walked up to me and offered his hoof, smiling warmly.  I shook it, normally this time.  “I’m Zephyr.  Welcome to Hollow Shades!  I’ve got a great offer for you, my friend.  Come along with me and we can talk ‘bout it.”  He gestured to the door.   “We can come too, right?” Wheat Flour asked.   “Oh, yes, of course.”  He laughed heartily, collecting some plates from a shelf near the door.  “He needs to feed much as you folk do, right?”   Uh, sure, but… what did that have to do with them coming along?  I stood confused, and the others behind me didn’t laugh.   Zephyr looked between us.  His hoof froze before reaching for another plate, but he kept his smile.  “Joking, joking.  You know, the ‘changelings feed on love’ thing.”   …No, I didn’t know.  No one said anything for a good long moment.  What did he mean by “changelings feed on love”?  Was I supposed to know that?  Was it metaphorical or something?  How was that physically possible?   “It’s been a long day,” Lucid said.  “He still has the ‘changeling mindset’ and all.  So, what was that about an offer?”   Zephyr moved the stack of the plates from his hoof to his back.  “Er, right.  Well then, come along with me, and we’ll find us a spot to talk.”   He led us out of his hut and onto the dirt road, towards the sound of the music.  As we followed, I spoke to Lucid in a low voice.  “Changelings feed on love?”   “Yes,” Lucid said.  “We should’ve told you sooner.”   So he wasn’t joking.  It was still very hard to grasp, though.  How could anyone physically feed off of an emotion?  “But, how does that work?”   “We can explain later,” he said.  “Right now, I think we’re about to have supper.”   At the same time, we reached the village square, where several wooden tables had been lined up.  It seemed the whole village was there, ponies and zebras alike, talking excitedly amongst each other.  It was some sort of community potluck, and a rather busy one, at that.   Zephyr led us to an opening at one of the tables’ ends.  I found a seat on a short wooden bench next to the wheat sisters. We had to squeeze together to make room, though despite our efforts, I was left with only about half of a seat on the end of the bench.  However, that slight discomfort was easily overshadowed by the sight of the evening’s meal.   All along each row of tables were many dishes, colourful vegetables and fruits and fish and breads.  My mouth watered just watching it shine in the setting sun’s light, not to mention the aroma.  Zephyr added his own dish to the potluck: a bowl of boiled vegetables, seasoned and garnished to look absolutely heavenly.   “Gotta love the Summer Sun Celebration.  Highest time of the year, it is,” Zephyr began, grinning widely.  After passing empty cups and plates to each of us, he served himself some salmon.  “Help yourselves!”   After pausing politely, Fairweather was the first to jump in.  Whole Grain followed, and the rest of us served ourselves.  Afraid I hadn’t had enough protein over the last few days, I went for any sort of meat that they had, which turned out to be only fish.  Cod, salmon, trout… and some of Hasting’s boiled vegetables to balance it out.   “So,” Whole Grain began.  “Your offer.”   “Mm, yes.”  Zephyr swallowed before continuing.  “What’s your name, young colt?” he asked me.   I hesitated.  “I, um…  I go by a few.”   He laughed.  “Your changeling name.  Or, uh… classification.”   Oh, that was an easy enough question.  “6 F 25,” I said.  I accepted a jug from Wheat Flour and poured myself some wine.  Well, something that looked like wine.  It was probably grape juice.   Fairweather stopped chewing for a moment.  “Changelings don’t even get names?”   “Nope,” Zephyr said.  “Changelings are given a classification at birth.  Hive runs smoother that way.  I think it’s… your hive number, and the rest has to do with your sleeping compartment.  Details, details.  Age don’t do a brain any favours,” he said, smiling and tapping his hoof on his head.   Whole Grain’s face scrunched up.  “How do you know this?”   Zephyr chuckled and wiped his mouth with his shiny blue hoof.  “Because, young filly, I am one.”   Huh?  I almost choked on my mouthful of cod.   “What?” Lucid said, echoing my thoughts.  “But you.... you look so different.”   Zephyr nodded.  “Yep, I used to look like your friend 6 F 25 here.  Then something magical happened, something I never expected, but it makes sense thinking on it now.”  He leaned forward, using his elbows to support his shoulders.   “A while ago, I ran from the hive.  It was a terrible place, and still is from what I hear.  Escaping was… difficult, long story short.”  He took a sip of his juice and continued.  “Important part is that one day, I came here, lookin’ for a home.  The community here welcomed me with open arms, and I eventually set down here.   “Over the years, I found my body changing.  The holes in my arms filled in, my skin changed colour, and I came to look more similar to ponyfolk.  It puzzled me, so after a while, I saw the shaman about it.  She told me a tale of changelings a long time ago, long before Chrysalis.”   Wheat Flour stopped eating and supported her head with her hooves, ready for Zephyr to continue.  I wasn’t.  Why was his body changing, and why was that important right now?  And what did that have to do with… Chrysalis?  For the sake of not slowing things down, I remained quiet as Zephyr told his tale.   “Changelings are, and always have been, creatures that feed on love.  Way back when, they used to feed simply on pure love, one they had for each other.  They were good-natured folk, livin’ in harmony with ponies in a land far from Equestria.”   “What land, specifically?” Whole Grain asked.   “Uh… Neighpal, I think.”  He waved his hoof.  “Way out in the west.  Past, er… Saddle Arabia, but not as far as Prance.”   Instead of nodding, Whole Grain sat back and crossed her arms.  Zephyr took that as a cue to continue.  “Anyway, um…  Changelings, yes.  They used to look something like this.”  He gestured to himself.  “Colourful, just like ponies.  They could change their form—which is how they got their name—but most used it in good fun.  Teasing, playing pranks, and such.   “By and by, changelings realized something unusual.  Love they got as a changeling was one thing, but when they pretended to be a pony, the love they got had a different taste.  It was sweet, invigoratin’, and—most of all—addicting.  It was a love that they wanted to taste again, and again, and again.” He picked up a raw tomato.  “However, this type of love don’t sustain in any way, mind-wise… or even body-wise.  Both began to break down.”   He bit into the tomato with his fangs and sucked on it, shriveling up the vegetable.  When Zephyr removed his teeth, clear juice dripped out of the remaining holes.  “’Scuse me for the sorta jarrin’ analogy, but it proves the point.”  He set the tomato down and continued.    “Changelings became bitter, bloodthirsty for this kind of love.  The ponies shied away from them, shunned them, and all but banished them from their land.   “The changelings formed their own colony.  And that’s how changelings are, nowadays.  They protect and look out for each other, even though they don’t so much love each other anymore.” Zephyr took a quick bite of a potato.  “They’re nomadic.  Travellin’ from place to place, sucking a people dry of love—or at least, trying to.  Sometime they’ll take ‘em over and sometime not.  Sometime, they’ll be happy stealing love on the sly, little by little, ‘till they’re caught.  Depends on how power-hungry the queen is.”   Fairweather’s brow crinkled in thought as she swallowed a mouthful of food.  “Wait a sec.  This is a neat history lesson and everything, but”—she pointed to me—“why tell him?  Wouldn’t he already know this stuff?”  Sigh.  Leave it to Fairweather to forget that I wasn’t a changeling.   “Well, wouldn’t ya know it, most don’t.  They’re myths by now, and nowadays, you’d be hard-pressed to find a changeling who gives a feather about things long, long past.”  He took a sip of his drink.   Lucid jumped in.  “Then how do you know this?”   “I’m on my way to being an old-timer, if you couldn’t tell.  Grey in my mane already—can you believe it?”  He ran his hoof through his slightly webby hair, which was almost entirely grey.  “But yes, old folks like me have been around a while.  Long enough to have visited Neighpal when I was young.  That’s where I picked it up.”   Fairweather rested her head on her hoof.  “What’s it like in Neighpal?”   “Lovely.”  Zephyr smiled.  “Cold country, warm folk.  And they brew the best tea you ever did drink.”   Whole Grain set down the uneaten roll in her hoof, the only item of food she had touched so far.  “Is this the changelings’ first time invading Equestria?”   “Yes, I do believe it is,” he said.  “Er, no…  They might’ve come here a long while ago, but they haven’t come back in ages.”   Whole Grain’s eyes narrowed.  “And how did you know about the invasion?”   “I…  Heh, they told me about it,” he replied.  “Didn’t go so well.  Canterlot fought back in full force, so I hear.  Some sorta explosion sent them flying all across Equestria.”   Explosion…  The noise that sounded like a bomb, at Honeydew’s place.  That must’ve been it.  And that’s where 4 N 7 must have come from, too.  It made sense.   “Still doesn’t answer the question of how you knew,” Whole Grain said, staring Zephyr down.   He took another sip of his juice and smirked.  “Well, aren’t you the thorough young filly?  They’re now without home, and a few have come by searching for one.  Without the Queen, they’re lost and panicky. You’ve hung around longer than most,” he said to me.  “Some I’ve convinced to stay, and those are the ones who told me ‘bout the attack.”   I looked around, and though I hadn’t noticed it before, there were a few changelings in this village.  One was further down our table, not paying us much mind.  A few were walking about.  One was sharing a laugh with an orange pony.   “Were there any changelings here before you?” Lucid asked.   “No, I was the first,” Zephyr said.  “That’s what I love about this place.  Wonderful community, here.  There’s a home waitin’ for you here, 6 F 25.  With your very own hut, if you like.”   I smiled.  “Thanks, but—”   “Oh, don’t worry about it,” Fairweather said.  “He’s already got a home.”   Zephyr’s eyebrows rose.  “Oh?  Where?”   “The monkey universe.”  She waved a dismissive hoof.  “It’s complicated, don’t bother trying to understand it.”  Ah, so she did remember that.   Zephyr faltered.  “Er…”   I jumped in.  “It’s a long story, but yes, Fairweather’s right… in that I do have a home.  Thanks for offering, though.”   Zephyr shrugged.  “Up to you.  Just know that you’re always welcome here.”   I smiled and took a sip of the juice.  It was a good grape juice, but there was an odd flavour to it.  A slight sourness, like…   …Like wine.  Oh gosh.  I took another sip.  It was too good to be true.  I drained the glass and sighed in content.  This city must not have been featured in the cartoon.  If I were stuck living in this world, this one would’ve been my first choice.   “You like the wine, eh?” Zephyr remarked.   “Yes, very much so.”   He beamed.  “Then you’ll love the Nightfall Festival.  Goes on the whole night long.  All you folks are most welcome to join us.”   “We’ll think about it,” Whole Grain said.  “Now, if you’ll excuse us for just a moment…”  She tilted her head towards her sister and I.   “Of course,” Zephyr said.   Fairweather and Lucid stood up, but Whole Grain discouraged them.  “We’ll be right back,” she said.   Whole Grain brought her sister and me away from the town square.  She found a small hut near the outside and had us hide behind it.  It was hard to see in the shade from sunlight and torchlight, but I could still make out the sisters and their faces.   Checking to make sure no one was within earshot, Whole Grain said, “This place isn’t safe.  There are changelings everywhere.”   Even more evidence for paranoia.  “Zephyr did say they were friendly,” I said.   “We can’t know that for sure,” she said.  “And since we’re stuck here tonight, we’ll have to be careful.  The three of us will stay together.”   “Just the three of us?” I asked.   “Yes.  Even if Fairweather and the professor aren’t changelings, they can take care of themselves.”   Wheat Flour had been staring at the dirt, biting her lip.  She slowly raised her head and looked up at her sister’s eyes.  “And we can’t?”   Whole Grain faltered.  She cocked her head and threw me a quick glance.  “We can watch out for each other in a group.  I want us to be safe.  Is that wrong?”   Her sister stood a little taller and swallowed.  “It means you can’t trust us to look out for ourselves.”   “Of course I know you can take care of yourself, Wheat Flour, it’s just—”   “Yet your suggestion implies I can’t.”  Wheat Flour’s cheeks began to burn.  “I am capable of handling myself, Whole Grain.  I’m no longer a filly.”   “Yes, I understand that,” Whole Grain said.  “I’m looking out for you.”   “You have been my whole life.  Is it so wrong to want to be independent?”   I backed away a little and let them sort this out.  Whole Grain’s jaw set.  “This isn’t the time for this, Wheat Flour.  Just listen to yourself—”   “I have no need to be scolded.”  Wheat Flour’s gaze tightened on her sister.  “There’s a celebration tonight.  I’d like to partake.  You may do the same, or you may not.  I trust you to decide for yourself.”   Whole Grain stamped a hoof and uttered a loud growl.  As Wheat Flour trotted away, she raised her voice.  “Fine!  Maybe I will.  Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow, or maybe I won’t!”  She turned on a dime and stomped away.   I sat there for a minute in the shadow of the hut, too uncomfortable to move or talk.  Witnessing a family conflict was not fun.  Feeling a slight headache coming on, I lowered myself to the ground and rested my head in my hooves.  I nestled into the soft fur of my arms and watched the firelight from the village dance on the trees.   The night was chilly, and the crickets’ chirping droned in my ears.  I wanted none of their stupid, inane, nonstop chatter.  I rolled onto my back and reached my arms up to cover my ears.   It had been another long day, and yet again, I probably wouldn’t be sleeping in a bed.  I needed something to take my mind off of this day.  I needed something to relax, something that would take the edge off, something like… a drink.   I smiled.  I needed a chance to feel human again.