//------------------------------//
// Chapter 5 - Meanwhile, At the Hall of The Super Best Friends 
// Story: And So? 
// by Rokas 
//------------------------------//

	Thunderbird sighed in relief as he landed in front of Ditzy Dew's cottage, his flight back having been free from any further aerobatics or drama. He set down on his hind legs only at first, still flapping his wings a bit to keep the front half of his body suspended while he set the coin purse on the ground. Once it was down, he quickly set out both of his forelegs and then settled to the ground on all fours. Well, that could have gone better, he thought as he folded his now stilled wings up in their resting position on his sides. But I suppose it could have been worse, too. At least no bones were broken and Dash doesn't hate me.
But you want her to hate you, another part of him said.
No, I don't. I want her to ignore me, he countered. Hatred is just the opposite of... Well, you know. It can generate as much attention and interaction as any intense emotion. Ignoring me, however, will let me slip into the background. Anonymity is what I want, and that's what I'm going to get.
Not with the whole town talking about you, he reminded himself. Apparently you're a target for scuttlebutt.
New people always are, he countered. They'll forget about me soon enough when something else happens. And this being Ponyville, I only need to wait a week or so for that, right?
His mind didn't throw anything else at him then, and so the stallion sighed in relief and then bent down to grab the coin purse in his mouth. He was an inch away and his mouth wide open when he froze as he realized that Rainbow Dash had also been carrying the pouch in her mouth, as had Applejack. Oh Fudruckers...

* * * *

Ditzy Dew chopped up the carrots, careful to hold the sharp knife with the light gripping magic inherent in all ponies' hooves. This is going to be a wonderful stew tonight, she thought as she balanced her upper body against the edge of the countertop. Like all such furnishings the edge had been worn smooth to make the position comfortable, or at least acceptable to ponies who needed to use their forehooves to manipulate objects. Sometimes I envy humans, with their fingers and thumbs, Ditzy mused as she worked on dinner. Of course, I wouldn't want to give up my flying for it. Too much fun, that is.
She heard the front door open just then, interrupting her train of thought. “Dinky, is that you?” Ditzy called, knowing her daughter would be back soon from playing with her friends.
“It's just me, miss Dew,” a deeper, masculine voice replied.
Ditzy felt her curiosity rise as she recognized Thunderbird. “Alright, Thud,” she called back. “I'm making dinner in the kitchen if you need me for anything.” 
“Sure thing- Whoa!” A soft thud followed the last word, joined almost immediately by the noise of coins clinking on the ground and the soft muttered curses of a particular pegasus.
Curious, Ditzy set down the knife and then lowered herself to all fours before she turned and walked from the kitchen into the main hallway that connected all the rooms on the ground floor with the front door. A quick glance down the hall showed her that Thunderbird had seemingly tripped, and he was now lying on his belly with his legs, and surprisingly his wings, splayed out as wide as the narrow corridor would allow. In front of him was a bag that had split open upon hitting the floor, spilling a pile of coins out on the hardwood, and the dark green pegasus was fuming as he eyed it. “Figures, it goes all this time without breaking and now it rips open.”
“I believe you humans have a phrase for that sort of thing,” Ditzy said as she walked over and then leaned down a bit to start nudging the coins into a pile. “You call it 'Murphy's Law' I believe.”
Thunderbird chuckled ruefully as he regained his footing and then moved over to join Ditzy in cleaning up the small mess. “Ah yes, Murphy has been gracing my life for as long as I can remember.”
“Well, he couldn't have been along much today,” Ditzy suggested as she took a step back once the coins had been piled up. “Seems you found some work.”
“Yup,” Thunderbird replied, but then abruptly frowned and looked down at the coins. “Uhm, may I leave this here for a moment?” He asked, gesturing to the pile. “I'm going to go and get the other coin purse from my bags.”
“Of course,” Ditzy replied as she turned to head back to the kitchen. “Just don't take too long. Dinky is supposed to be home soon and I don't want to let her think that messes are okay.”
“No problemo, señorita,” Thunderbird replied, affecting a deeper, fake Spanish accent. Ditzy laughed at that as she continued into the kitchen, leaving the stallion to turn and head for the stairs up to the bedrooms. A quick trot down the upstairs hallway to the guest room – the very last door – netted him the coin purse he'd somehow acquired when coming to Equestria from where it sat upon a dresser, and another quick trot and descent had him picking up the coins within minutes.
At least I can carry this bag in my mouth without feeling creepy, Thunderbird thought. He still felt weird at knowing that the old bag had been held in the mouths of two of his favorite ponies. How come I didn't think of this before? He angrily thought at himself. Ponies use their mouths for picking up a lot of things. That means a lot of things I've picked up with my mouth have probably been in another pony's mouth already. Ugh, how the Hell do they not find that a little weird?
And yet here you are holding a bag in your mouth that's been God knows where, he answered himself as he picked up the coin purse in his mouth and then walked towards the kitchen. Hypocrite much?
Shut up. I never said I wouldn't bite the bullet and bear it, I'm just wondering why no one here has made mouth condoms yet. The mental image this brought up made him both shudder in revulsion and snort in amusement.
“Something funny?” Ditzy asked as the dark green pegasus entered the kitchen, though she only briefly glanced away from where she was making dinner. Thunderbird grunted an affirmative as he walked over to the small table and two bench seats that sat in a breakfast nook at the back of the kitchen. There he set his coin purse down on the table and then moved to sit on one of the benches. “Just had an amusing thought. It's not fit for public consumption, though, so I'll spare you it.”
“If you say so,” Ditzy said, easily. “So you found work today?” She then asked, as she turned to pick up the carrots she'd been working on and tossed them into a large pot sitting on her stove.
“Yeah,” Thunderbird replied, sounding reluctant.
Ditzy glanced over at him and saw that a mild blush was on his face. “I take it there's a story behind that answer?” She asked, curiously.
“You might say that,” Thunderbird said, and then sighed. “There weren't any new postings when I got to the job board today, though one did get posted up as I was looking them over again. Turns out Applejack needed help on the farm for a day.”
“Oh, really?” Ditzy asked, and glanced at the stallion again.
“Ya really,” Thunderbird answered with a chuckle. When the blonde-maned pegasus tossed him a confused look, he shrugged. “Sorry, internet meme back home,” he explained, and then grunted as he returned his thoughts to earlier in the day. “But yes. I decided to swallow my pride and fanboyism and offered to help. She didn't have any other pony around so she took it and I spent the afternoon, uh...” He stopped then as he thought of politic way to describe the work. “Distributing the end-result of porcine disposal units.”
“Spreading pig crap?” Ditzy asked, a chuckle following her words. “You needn't to worry about my sensibilities, Thud. I've seen and heard worse,” she added as she went to work on some leeks.
“I'm beginning to believe you have,” Thunderbird said with a nod towards the gray mare when she glanced back at him again. “But yes, I spread pig crap on the potato fields for the Apples. I wasn't very fast, or so I'm told, but AJ was still grateful I spared her the work, so she paid me twenty-five bits for the five hours of work.”
“Well, that was nice of her,” Ditzy said as she finished with the leeks. She quickly added them to the cooking pot and then turned the stove on so the stew could begin cooking. “Five bits an hour is a decent wage for unskilled labor,” the gray pegasus explained as she turned and walked over towards the kitchen table. She paused halfway there when she saw Thunderbird sitting upright like a human instead of lengthwise like a pony, but she mentally shook it off as she finished walking over and took a – normal – seat across from the stallion.
“So I guess inflation isn't really a hefty thing here in Equestria?” Thunderbird asked.
“Not really, no,” Ditzy replied with a shrug of her shoulders. “Gold doesn't tend to change in value much. At least not here,” she added. “That and having an immortal monarch sitting on the throne for thousands of years tends to stabilize economic policies.”
“I'll bet,” Thunderbird grunted. “So anyway, that's a good amount of pay then, I take it?”
“Well, decent enough,” Ditzy replied. “It's not the best money you could make, certainly not as much as that weather job you're eyeing. But farmers aren't known for being rich, nor is the work known for being technically demanding, so the pay isn't something to jump for joy about.”
“Just so long as I ain't getting cheated,” Thunderbird said. “Not that I'd think AJ would cheat me, mind you, but there's such a thing as being honest and pinching every penny 'til your employees' pocketbooks are emaciated.”
Ditzy nodded at that. “True,” she agreed. “But no, the Apples have always been good ponies. Never very wealthy in money, though they have some of the largest tracts of land around.”
Thunderbird sniggered at that, and Ditzy gave him a look of confusion before a memory popped up in her head. “Oh, grow up,” she said in a huff.
“No no,” Thunderbird said, with mock sincerity as he held out a hoof. “Please, do go on about Applejack's huge tracts of land,” he added, and then broke out laughing before Ditzy could even reply.
The gray mare sighed and furrowed her brows. “It's not that funny,” she muttered as the stallion continued to laugh.
“I'm sorry,” Thunderbird said after only a moment of laughing. “I'm not laughing at you, Ditzy. It's just funny how that came out, that's all,” he added, and smiled at the other pegasus. “And as you know, I'm a huge fan of that sort of thing.”
“Please don't remind me,” Ditzy replied with an opposite-direction eye roll.
Thunderbird shook his head lightly at that. “Well, you've had your revenge just now by making me jealous of your ability to do that with your eyes.”
“What ability?” Ditzy asked in false innocence as she made herself walleyed. 
“You are an evil minx of a pony,” Thunderbird countered with mock severity. “You test me, and I shall have you strung up on the yardarm for insubordination!”
Ditzy chuckled at that. “Oh surely, captain, you can make an exception for little ol' me?” She asked, and gave a cute eyelash batting. While her eyes were still split.
“Alright, you win,” Thunderbird said, raising both of his forelegs into the air in a gesture of surrender. “That look you just gave was simultaneously the cutest and most disturbing thing I've seen in a long time. I yield to your weirding ways, Bene Gesserit witch.”
The gray pegasus gave the green one a confused look, which overrode her walleyed stare and brought both eyes back onto an even keel. “Is that a cultural reference?” She asked.
“Maaayybe,” Thunderbird said, and attempted to innocently glance off to the side. “Oh, hey, your water is boiling,” he added, and pointed towards the steaming pot on the stove with a foreleg.
Ditzy gave the stallion a brief, silent razz before she stood up and walked over to the stove to tend to the household's dinner. “So, getting back on topic, are you going back to work for Applejack again?” The gray mare asked before she picked up a long handled spoon in her mouth and then stirred the stew.
“Probably not,” Thunderbird replied as he stretched out a bit. “She said it was only 'cuz Big Macintosh was taking a day off. But she said if she had any more work she might drop by here and lemme know, since I told her where I was staying.”
“Ah,” Ditzy said after putting the spoon down, and then turning the heat on the stove down so the stew could simmer. “Well, there's always that weatherpony job. You think you're up for trying out for it yet?” She asked as she returned to the table and then sat down.
“I dunno,” the stallion said, his voice suddenly low, and his eyes cast downward to look at the table surface. “I, uh, kinda had a run-in with Rainbow Dash after I finished working for Applejack.”
“Really? What happened?” Ditzy asked, and then waited patiently as Thunderbird went through the events that had only recently transpired, making sure he didn't leave out his own panicked responses no matter how embarrassing they were. “So I dunno if I could get on the team if she's running it,” he finished, and then sighed.
“Well, to be fair, the team is technically run by the mayor's office,” Ditzy slowly said, picking her words with care as she also worked to think about the situation. “But yes, as the most senior weatherpony, she has all operational control. So you could still get the job, since the mayor does all the interviews and hiring, but Dash could basically cut your hours down to a pittance and give you all the worst duties if she wanted to.”
Thunderbird groaned at that and then facehoofed. “Oh that's just what I want, a boss who has it in for me,” he grumbled, sarcastically.
“I wouldn't say that,” Ditzy hastily added. “Look, you may know a bit about Dash through the telly, but I've actually lived here my whole life and have had a lot of actual interaction with her. She's really not that bad, just a little leery of ponies she hasn't had the time to evaluate.” The gray pegasus paused at that to gather her breath and her thoughts before she continued. “From what you've said, she might think you're odd, but the near-miss might actually help your case, as it showed quick thinking that saved both of you a lot of pain. She respects ability and dedication, and all you need to do is be patient and work long enough to show her that you have those things and she will be alright with you. In the mean time, she's professional enough to give you some slack until you're up to speed.”
The green pegasus took a look at Ditzy for a moment as he absorbed and processed her words. “How do you know so much about Dash's personality?” He asked, genuinely curious. “It sounds like you've talked with her more often than just occasionally helping with the weather.”
Ditzy smiled at that, and then shrugged. “As I told you a few days ago, weatherpony work is easy enough for any pegasus who can fly decently. A few years ago I was laid off from the post office due to budget cutbacks,” her smile disappeared at that, and she sighed briefly. “It was a screwup, really. I love princess Celestia as much as the next pony, but things have been so much smoother since princess Luna returned.
“But I digress. I had to keep money coming in so I took a spare position on the weather team for a few months before the post office called me back to work. Dash can be surprisingly patient when she wants to be,” Ditzy said, and then smirked. “The problem is that she doesn't want to be patient often. Still, she does like to give ponies a chance to earn her loyalty, so as long as you really work at it, she will probably cut you some slack.”
“I see,” Thunderbird said, and then fell silent as he pondered what the gray mare had just told him. While he did this, Ditzy stood up to go and resume work on the other components of the stew, leaving him alone at the table with his thoughts.
It wasn't long, however, before his ruminations were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening again. “I'm home, momma!” The familiar voice of Dinky Dew sounded from down the hall. “Can my friends come in?”
“Welcome home, muffin!” Ditzy called out, and then turned from the stove to trot into the hallway. “And what did I tell you about proper words, young lady?”
“Oh, sorry,” Thunderbird heard, and he smiled as he could imagine the remorseful look on the young filly's face. “May my friends come in, please?”
“They certainly may,” Ditzy said, and then Thunderbird heard her turn and walk back towards the kitchen. “But you all must stay out of the kitchen while I'm working on dinner. Also, please mind mister Thunderbird, he just got back from a job not too long ago.”
A chorus of affirmations came back, followed by the sound of many tiny hooves pounding on the flooring as they ran up the stairs. Thunderbird twitched an ear as he heard something familiar in those voices, and he cast a glance to Ditzy as she emerged from the hallway. “Dinky's friends wouldn't happen to be three of Ponyville's most infamous fillies, would they?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.
“If you mean Applebloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle, then yes,” the gray mare answered with a sigh as she walked back to the stove. “I hope that's not a problem?”
“Not really,” Thunderbird said. “And even if it was, I'd leave rather than put you and your daughter out any more than I already have.” He chuckled at that. “Besides, Dinky's so adorable that I think my heart would explode if I did anything to upset her.”
Ditzy chuckled at that as well. “I'm glad to hear it,” she observed as she finished the next step of food preparation and then turned away from the simmering stew. “Although I'm not surprised. You've been so exceedingly patient with her. Are you sure you don't have kids of your own?”
The pain that stabbed into Thunderbird's chest was cold, as it usually was. And as always it left a hollow feeling behind. “I'm quite sure,” he replied, his voice flat and emotionless.
The gray mare froze upon hearing the tone and saw the stallion's face was contort in a grimace, his body tensed up. “I'm sorry,” Ditzy said quietly, and then walked over to stand near the table. “I didn't mean to prod at a sore spot.”
“It's alright,” Thunderbird said, and then started the movements that would get him off of the seat and properly on his hooves. “I'm sorry if I was short with you. It's just...” He let his voice trail off for a moment, and then sighed. “I want to raise a family. I want to find the woman of my dreams, someone who will get me, and have kids with her. But back home I was a fat waste of space that no woman would ever look twice at, and here...” He shrugged. “Not even worth thinking about, here.
“So it hurts,” he continued, softly, his voice barely heard above the sound of food cooking on the stove. “It hurts every time I'm reminded of it. Of the false hope I had for years, and the emptiness of where it used to sit now that I've realized the truth of the matter.” He paused, and then shook his head. “Excuse me, I think I need to head off alone for a bit,” he said, his voice even as turned to head for the cottage's back door. “I'll be out practicing my flying if you need me.”
“Alright,” Ditzy said, her voice a bit sad. She could tell, however, that trying to say anything more wouldn't be the right course, and so she nodded to the stallion as he pressed open the door. “Dinner will be ready in about an hour or so.”
“Thanks, Ditzy,” Thunderbird said,  as he stepped through the door. Suddenly he paused, and then glanced back and gave the blonde-maned pegasus a brief smile. “You're a good friend,” he added, and then walked out.

* * * *

“So Dinky,” the red-maned, yellow earth pony began as the four fillies finished talking about their day. “Who's that guy yer mom mentioned?”
“Oh, mister Thunderbird?” The gray unicorn of the bunch replied. “He's a friend of my mom,” Dinky explained as she sat on her bed, Sweetie Belle sitting next to her while Applebloom and Scootaloo sat or stood on the floor, respectively. “She said he had an accident recently and needed to stay with us until he could get back on his hooves.”
“That's not what I heard,” Scootaloo said, her face and voice telling of her enthusiasm for the subject. “I heard that he's that pegasus everypony in town is talking about, the one who killed a manticore just by looking at it!”
Applebloom and Sweetie Belle both gasped at this. “No way!” Sweetie said.
“Yes way!” Scootaloo replied.
“Nu-uh,” Applebloom countered, garnering a surprised look from her pegasus friend. “You can't kill a manticore with a look!”
“Oh yeah?” Scootaloo said, turning to give the earth pony a challenging look. “Fluttershy stopped a cockatrice with a stare!”
“Yeah, but she didn't kill it,” Applebloom said, standing to give Scootaloo and equally challenging expression. “And she's Fluttershy! Ah don't think there ain't a pony anywhere else what can do her stare!”
Sweetie Belle frowned a bit, and then looked to the other unicorn filly. “What do you think, Dinky?” She asked, hoping to defuse the situation between the two more rambunctious friends.
Dinky, for her part, looked down at her forelegs as the other fillies turned their attentions to her. “Uhm, well,” she began sheepishly, and then looked up. “My mom told me he killed it, but she didn't say how,” the gray unicorn explained. “She said she only told me because she knew that the other ponies would be talking about it, and she wanted me to know the truth. She said that mister Thunderbird is just a nice pony who had to do it because he had no choice.” It wasn't all that her mother had told her, nor was it all she knew about where the Dews' house guest was really from. But she made me promise not to talk about him being a human, the little unicorn thought. And I always keep my promises!
“Wait, so he really did kill a manticore?” Scootaloo asked, looking a bit shocked.
Dinky nodded in reply, thought it was Applebloom who spoke next. “Weren't you th' one who started talkin' 'bout it?” She asked, confused.
“Yeah, but I thought it was just a story,” Scootaloo confessed, blushing a bit. “You know, like that story of how there's a bunch of ninja ponies who deliver daisy sandwiches. Or how if you say Pinkie Pie's full name three times in the mirror she appears and then you're never heard from again.”
Dinky frowned at the last one, having never heard of it before. “If you're not heard from again, then how does anypony know it's true?”
“Uhm...” Scootaloo said, her face contorting as she worked hard to think of a way out of the logic problem.
“Aren't you scared of being in the same house as him, though?” Sweetie Belle asked as she looked at Dinky, having already decided to move the conversation onwards.
“Not really,” Dinky replied evenly. “My mom says she trusts him, and she's really good at knowing who to trust,” she explained. “And he's really nice, and funny too.”
“Really?” Scootaloo asked, and then continued after she received a nod from Dinky. “So what's he look like, anyway?”
“He's big, dark green pegasus,” Dinky said, and then shrugged. “And he has a brown mane.”
“Wait,” Applebloom said, holding up a hoof. “Does he have a book an' stuff for his cutie mark?” She asked.
“Well, yes,” Dinky replied. “He says it's because he's a writer.”
At the mention of his talent both Scootaloo and Applebloom seemed to lose interest, though Sweetie Belle remained attentive. “Ooh, what's he write?” She asked.
Dinky frowned as she thought about the answer. “I don't think he's told me,” she admitted. “But he says he likes to write fiction,” she added. A glance to her two more rambunctious friends showed that they didn't quite follow. “You know, made up stories.”
“Oh,” both Scootaloo and Applebloom said, finally understanding. “That's cool,” the orange pegasus said. “Not as cool as Rainbow Dash, but still cool.” The other three fillies shared a chuckle at that, which left Scootaloo confused. “What?” She asked.
“Nothing,” Applebloom said, and then turned to look at Dinky. “Didja ever ask him how he got his cutie mark?”
“Oh, uh,” Dinky said, glancing to the side. “No.”
“Well, why not?” The farmer pony asked. “We're all tryin' ta get our cutie marks, ain't we? Why don't we go ask that guy how he got his?”
“Yeah!” Both Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle exclaimed. Dinky, though, just shirked back a bit. “Uhm, yeah,” she said. “But momma told me not to bother mister Thunderbird,” she said, in a quiet plea.
“We won't bother him,” Applebloom said as she and the other two “crusaders” stood or climbed down from the bed. “We're jus' gonna ask him, and if'n he says no, we'll just come back here, okay?”
“Uh, okay,” Dinky allowed. He probably already has a story made up, anyway.

* * * *

Okay, just a bit higher now, Thunderbird thought as he climbed almost straight up, his wings pumping hard. He could feel the burn in his muscles as he pushed them, but it was a good feeling he relished even when he had been in his weaker, original body. I should've made the time to work out, he scolded himself. But gyms are too public. Too many people. Too many things I don't understand.
He shook his head to get rid of those thoughts. Well I've lucked out now, so don't blow it. Keep doing exercise like this every day, got it?
Jawhol! He answer himself, and then returned his focus to his flight. The dark green pegasus leveled out and then transitioned to a hover as he turned in mid air to look down at the ground a few hundred feet below. Here Thunderbird paused and went over the trick he had accidentally discovered only a few moments before, having flown about in his frustrated emotional state before slipping in mid-turn again. Now, though, he sought to recreate the effect he'd used to keep himself from hitting the ground, and the pegasus smiled broadly as he remembered the thrill of it. 
“Alright,” he said, speaking aloud to himself. “Here goes nothing.” With that, he flapped his wings again, angling their thrust so he flipped his front end downward to enter a dive. The wind immediately started to whip past his ears, which only increased as the dark green pony tucked his forelegs forward, his hind legs back, and his wings angled as far back as they would go, all to decrease wind resistance. He felt especially proud at his wings, as they formed a delta shape parallel to his horizontal axis, much as some supersonic fighters had back home.
Not that I'm trying for a rainboom, Thunderbird reminded himself, and then angled his wings up a bit, using the back-pointing tips like ailerons. He wanted his dive to level out in a more controlled fashion than last time, and so was glad to trade the decreased speed for a shallower glide path. However, his speed remained on the far side of 'reckless' and his angle acute to straight down, so Thunderbird grit his teeth as the ground rose, fully intending to meet him with the force of one half of mass times velocity squared. Still Thunderbird kept his course, aiming for a patch of clear meadow a few dozen yards from Ditzy Dew's cottage.
Almost there, the pegasus thought as the ground became uncomfortably close. Finally the time came, and Thunderbird snapped his wings out and forward, spreading them mostly, but not all of the way out. The limbs screamed in pained protest at the force the slipstream imparted on them, but the pegasus kept them out and angled them up to shallow his dive, which rose slowly, but faster as the milliseconds ticked by.
At the last second, Thunderbird threw the last bit of reach into his wings, making them stretch out straight to either side as he yanked their angle of attack upwards, and then leveled them before he could stall. His feathers he kept bunched up as much as possible, though, which allowed the large wings to catch a cushion of air between themselves and the ground, which was now only just three feet below his underside.
Thunderbird grinned maniacally as he remained level and moving fast, riding on the air cushion and the momentum he'd picked up from the dive. “YEEEEEEE-HAAAWWW!” He cheered, screaming at the top of his lungs as he whipped past Ditzy's cottage in a blur. He felt his mind and soul clear out, reveling only in the adrenalin, the joy, and the triumph of having performed his trick, and Thunderbird smiled broadly as he continued to ride the ground effect. Eventually, though, he felt his speed slow down too much to maintain his height, even with the trick he'd learned earlier of using pegasus magic to gain thrust across his whole body. Reluctantly, but still with a feeling of triumph, he snapped his wings down hard to propel himself up far enough so that he could do a full stroke without fear of crashing. Soon he regained a respectable altitude of a dozen feet or so, and a more modest velocity that allowed him to easily make a turn to head back for the field behind Ditzy's house. I need a rest, he thought as he felt the fatigue in his wings.
The flight back was quick, despite the lower speed, and Thunderbird found himself surprised to see that Dinky and her friends – 'we are the cutie mark crusaaaders', he sung briefly in his mind – had come out back. He was then embarrassed as he saw them all staring up at him, and the stallion shook his head briefly as he angled down for a landing. Oh goody, more interaction. Almost as if a hack was writing this drivel by copying that one story where the CMC recruit Dinky, the pegasus angrily thought.
Stop that, another part of him chastised himself. Don't be an angry jerk around the kids. They deserve better.
You're right, you're right, Thunderbird thought, mentally surrendering to himself as he finally landed a yard from the fillies, taking a few steps on his hooves to bleed off the last of his momentum.
Scarcely had he stopped moving when the tiny orange pegasus he recognized as Scootaloo pushed herself forward. “Wow, that was awesome!” She said, looking up at the dark green stallion with a grin on her face.
“Oh, you saw that, did you?” Thunderbird sheepishly asked, blushing a bit.
“Yeah!” The four fillies yelled as one. “How'd you do that?” Scootaloo added, taking the lead.
“Hmm,” the green stallion hummed as he thought on how to explain it. “Well, you see, when an airfoil of sufficient size is close to a solid surface, it can generate additional lift by creating a pocket of increased air pressure between it and the surface,” he said, and then smiled as he felt he'd recalled the proper explanation. The blank looks he got from three of the fillies, though, soon sapped his happy expression.
“Uhm, okay...” Scootaloo said, frowning as she struggled to understand the terminology. “What does that mean?”
“It means he used his wings to trap air between them and the ground,” Dinky said, friendlily. “Then he rode it like a surfboard until he got too slow for it.”
Thunderbird grinned at the gray unicorn. “Yes, exactly, Dinky. Thank you,” he said, briefly raising his right foreleg to point it at the filly.
“Oooohhh,” the other three youths said, understanding growing in their eyes, though in one case it was supplanted by admiration. “That's wicked,” Scootaloo said. “How'd you find that out?”
“Er,” Thunderbird started, surprised at the question. “Are you telling me no one here has heard of the ground effect before?” He asked back.
Scootaloo just gave him an odd look. “The what effect?”
“Ground effect,” Thunderbird repeated. “It's the name of the process Dinky explained.”
“Oh,” Scootaloo said, and then frowned in thought for a moment. “I don't think I've heard of the name or the trick,” she added. Then her eyes widened and her wings started fluttering. “That means it's a whole new trick! Which means Rainbow Dash hasn't heard of it yet!”
“So?” Sweetie Belle spoke up, casting the question at her friend.
“So, that means that I can tell her about it and she'll think I'm so cool for knowing it!” Scootaloo explained, as she started to fidget in anticipation. “Ooh, I can't wait! I've gotta go tell her now!” She added, and then turned and shot off like a bullet. “I'll see you girls tomorrow!” She called out over her shoulder as she ran around the side of the house, her little wings buzzing to give her a bit more speed.
The stallion and remaining three fillies watched her leave with only a mild bit of surprise on their faces, before they returned their attention to one another. “I'm sorry about Scootaloo, mister Thunderbird,” Dinky said, quietly. “She likes to run around a lot.” Both Applebloom and Sweetie Belle echoed this sentiment.
Despite himself, Thunderbird let out a brief laugh. “That's okay, Dinky,” he said, and then took a step over to rub a forehoof on the top of her blonde maned head. “She's a good kid. So are the rest of y'all,” he added as he stepped back and then took a look at the other two fillies.
All three of them beamed with pride. “Thanks, mister Thunderbird!” Dinky said for the lot of them.
“Dinky, didn't I say you could call me 'Thud'?” The dark green pegasus asked.
“Er, yeah,” the little unicorn filly said, and then rubbed a hoof in the grass as she went on. “But momma said it's not polite to call an adult by a nickname.”
Thunderbird nodded at that. “True. Unless, however, that adult asks to you call him by his nickname,” he said. “So please, call me Thud. And that goes for you girls, as well,” he added, looking over Applebloom and Sweetie Belle again.
“Why'd ya have that as a nickname?” The yellow earth pony asked, tilting her head in curiosity.
“Because that's the noise I make when I mess up flying and hit the ground,” Thunderbird said, and then laughed briefly. “I'm a bit of a clumsy pony, you see.”
The girls chuckled all chuckled at that. “So, uh, Thud,” Sweetie Belle began. “We were wondering how you got your cutie mark?”
The stallion blinked at that, and then glanced over to Dinky, who gave him a tiny shrug. “Well, you see...” he began, unsure of what to say.
Fortunately, though, he was saved from anything further when Ditzy Dew opened the back door. “Alright girls, it's almost dinner. Dinky, you need to come in and wash up. Applebloom, Sweetie Belle, I'm sure your families will want you home for your meals as well.”
“Yes, miss Dew,” the two non-Dew fillies chorused, and then turned to walk off. “See ya at school tomorrow, Dinky!” Applebloom said as they left.
“You too, Applebloom, Sweetie Belle!” Dinky said, waving a hoof in goodbye. Once they rounded the corner of the house, Dinky stopped and then looked up at Thunderbird with sad eyes. “I'm sorry if we bugged you, mister Thunderbird.”
“Aw, that's okay, Dinky,” the green stallion said as he started them both walking towards the cottage. “Y'all are kids, and kids will be kids, no matter where you go. You just enjoy your time being a filly, and make lots of good memories to treasure, okay?”
“Okay!” Dinky replied with a grin, and then bounded off ahead to pop into the back door that Ditzy had left open. Thunderbird only chuckled at the filly's swift change of emotions, and he followed along at a more sedate pace. Just before he entered the cottage, however, he paused and then looked towards the west, where the sun was even now starting to set. I guess it's not so bad here, he thought, and then turned to head in. Just so long as I stay clear of the major ponies as much as I can.