“I'm sorry Apple Bloom, but the hard cider and rainbow punch are for big ponies,” Mint Julip said, gently but firmly.
“But ah AM a big pony!” Apple Bloom whined.
“Well then,” Mint Julip said with fading patience, “the hard cider and rainbow punch are only for ponies whose first birthday was at least fifteen years ago. You can go over to the FoalZone tent for two cups of small cider or one glass of blackberry wine. Or you can spend all night bothering me for something you know you aren't going to get, while all your friends are off having fun.”
Apple Bloom leaned up against the black and white checked tablecloth. She let out a low whimper, and her big wide eyes blinked as they brimmed with tears.
“Nice try, kid. I've got three daughters and a little sister,” Mint Julip said.
“Gosh darnit, it was worth a shot,” Apple Bloom grumbled as she stomped off to the FoalZone.
When Button Mash stepped up and waved an Adult Drinking Age Pony ID, written in crayon, Mint Julip just glared at him until he trotted off. They kept thinking they could pull one over his eyes. He chuckled and poured himself a straight cider. He supposed it was only natural for kids to want to be older than they were. Pretending to be a grown-up was good practice for adulthood, when you had to pretend to be a grown-up all the time. What was it the great Celestian apologist said? Now that I am old, I have learned to put a way childish things, including the fear of being childish. Something like that.
He sipped the drink to warm his bones. In hindsight, it was a good thing he wore the fluffy sweater and ascott tonight. He was one of those rare ponies whose special talent didn't match up with his profession. Mint Julip worked as a liberal arts teacher, which was a well-paid profession under the socio-economic policies of the god-princess.
Mint Julip's talent was inventing great cocktails on the fly, but people didn't want great inventions from a bartender. They wanted a cider, a bloody mare, or a stiff double of something that peeled paint and cleaned wounds. Maybe if they wanted a change, they'd ask for some tequila and a salt lick. Bar ponies did not like suggestions, or specials, or new things of any kind.
As if summoned by his thoughts, Berry Punch bounded up to the table. She lifted a cider glass with her lips and drained it while tickling Mint Julip's chin with her fluffy tail. He chuckled. She waggled her eyebrows and asked “Now how is my favorite artist doing tonight? Got anything sweet and juicy I can test my teeth on?”
“Aw shucks, miss, what would Colgate say?” Mint Julip answered, stirring up the punchbowl to keep the ice cubes from freezing into a solid mass.
“She'd say, 'can I watch? There's lots of olive oil under the nightstand”,” Berry Punch purred. “Anyway, my heart is always open to a colt behind a bar counter.”
“This is a table,” Mint Julip said, shooing her back from him. “Now what can I serve you up that you'll actually drink?” He enjoyed the flirtation, even though his barn door only swung open for colts and genderless older ponies. Berry Punch's marriage was open wider than the gates of Celestia's palace on Hearth's Warming Eve, but for some reason she saved all her flirting for the ones she knew she couldn't have. You could tell when Berry Punch wanted to irrigate somepony's fields by the way she talked politely and professionally of neutral topics. She was all very formal and unemotive up until she asked what their safeword was.
Berry pulled her lips away from the third empty cider glass and gave a wet belch. “Well, this time i'm looking at a tall demi-mare named Amber Waves, a sleek colt named Black Cherry, Bent Buckles the chubby genderqueer contortionist, and an agender cutie named Green Arrow.” She grinned. “I figure if I find a really ripped demi-boy I can head home with the full set!”
Mint Julip nodded. “Congratulations and Candance bless.” Cloudsdale was pretty trans-friendly, and Appleoosa was okay for monosexuals and binary ponies, but Ponyville would always be the most diverse hotspot for the MOGAI nightlife.
Berry Punch pranced a little on the spot. “So, I want a full jug of cider and a pitcher of your latest cosmic creation. You should also probably give me something for my friends to drink.”
Mint Julip got out the portable pitchers and totaled them up in his head.
“Oh and keep an eye out for that daughter-of-a-bastard Berry Shine. I don't want anyone blaming me for what that prick-head unicorn does,” Berry Punch snarled in a voice that was uncharacteristically sober.
Mint Julip broke up the ice cluster in the punch and waved to her.
#
“Here Nandi bear! Come here bear!” Lyra called out. She waved her rump in the air and whistled. “Nice tasty p-pony flank. Get it while it's fresh.”
Here instincts told her to run, either in a frontal charge towards the enemy or, preferably, very far away, and very fast. Running wasn't an option now.
For starters, she'd get lost if she fled into the forest now that true dark had fallen. Few breezes reached this deep to stir the air, but when they did they were harsh and unforgiving. She could easily get lost, and then the Nandi bear would have her. No, she had to keep it coming straight for her. Good thing she knew how to think like a predator.
Now she had to wait.
Cragodiles croaked in the distance. Skullmonkeys cackled overhead. The smell of loam and dead leaves built up and saturated the air.
Lyra really hated waiting for anything bad. Cherry Slits and Lemon Hearts would put off the moment of doom, but she prepared to just get it over with as quickly as possible. This has made her good at auditions and tests, but bad at survival horror video games. Also bad at chess. And really bad at professional boxing. That had been a weird summer.
The important thing to remember was to stay away from the upper body. The claws had magical strength. The tooth-covered beak, well, that went without saying, especially because the creature's saliva was infused with the essence of Tartarus.
Lyra pressed herself flat against the ground. She held still while a caterpillar marched along her nose. She saw the red, pulsing light and the horrible cry come closer and closer.
The Nandi bear plunged into the earth in front of her. As it rose for the attack, she jerked the crystal chord between the trees up, just enough to snag its toes. The bear fell flat on the forest floor. She snapped the chord with her magic and wrapped it around the leg, then plunged her horn into it. The bone twisted and snapped.
Strong magical claws. Terrible mouth of hellfire. Very vulnerable leg.
Her stomach growled as a trickle of blood ran down her horn. “Oh well, it is still a bear after all. ...sort of,” she said. She fired a magic dart at the back of its head, took out a hutning knife, and began to dig in.