When I was at the post office to send the letter to Princess Celestia, I saw the grey mare I'd seen on the train station's platform when I had arrived at Ponyville. I could see now what I didn't see then: here eyes were looking different directions. At once I began to wonder if it was a characteristic she had developed over time, or if she was born that way. Either way, it would be interesting to get to know her.
There was a basket of muffins on the counter. I supposed a little snack wouldn't hurt my appetite for lunch, so I took one and she smiled. I took a bite as I turned, and saw other familiar faces from the train station's platform: the cream-colored earth mare and the teal unicorn mare. I swallowed my bite of muffin and greeted them.
"You're the kind of doctor that fixes ponies' minds, right?" asked the cream-colored mare.
"Well, if you want to boil it down to a single sentence, then yes, but -" I was unable to finish my thought when she interrupted me.
"This is Lyra Heartstrings, and she needs help!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Miss Heartstrings and Bon Bon (as I later learned was the cream-coated mare's name) were kind enough to treat me to lunch, and I took the opportunity to get to know each of them and the nature of Miss Heartstrings's problem. The two had been friends for several years, since back when Miss Heartstrings was enrolled at Celestia's school for unicorns. They first met outside the school; Miss Heartstrings and her other friends from the school had finished their classes for the week, and Bon Bon had been walking by. They asked her where they could go to have a fun weekend, and Bon Bon had suggested Ponyville, mentioning that she lived there and that there was usually some sort of party going on.
"Those parties wouldn't happen to have been hosted by Pinkie Pie, would they?" I had asked, and they laughed and confirmed my suspicion.
Miss Heartstrings's problem, according to Bon Bon, was an obsession with mythical creatures that she believed was unhealthy, if not bordering unhealthy. Miss Heartstrings, on the other hand, said that although it could be considered an obsession, she felt it was more of a hobby. I asked what the topic in question was, and she told me about a race of creatures called "humans". I asked what these humans were, but Bon Bon interrupted, saying that it was a race of creatures most ponies had never heard of, and that talking about it in public might draw some unwanted looks. Miss Heartstrings agreed and we went over our schedules to find a time that worked for all of us, though she wasn't sure Bon Bon needed to come.
And that brings us to the afternoon of the same day. Miss Heartstrings and Bon Bon were both sitting on the sofa. Bon Bon sat normally, as any pony would sit, but Miss Heartstrings sat strangely, choosing to sit on her rump with her hind legs dangling over the edge, leaning her back against the back of the sofa. Her forelegs were crossed across her chest. I must have been looking at her pose longer than I'd intended, because it wasn't long before she said something.
"It's more comfortable than it looks. It just takes a little time to get used to it."
"Sorry for staring. Let's begin. Tell me more about these humans."
"Can I have some paper? I've found ponies understand what I'm describing if I draw sketches of what I mean." I agreed and gave her some spare paper and pencil. The teal unicorn started talking with what I could recognize was the practiced spiel of a storyteller. Whether or not she was telling a story or the actual truth, however, remained to be seen.
She described and drew a race of creatures that only walked on their hind legs and short necks. She went on to talk about their hands, at the ends of the forelegs which she'd called "arms", and the long, jointed appendages at the ends. While her drawing of the full body of the creature had been hasty and less detailed, her drawing of a hand was quite detailed comparatively. She pointed out fingers, knuckles, the palm, and the wrist, and I was struck by how similar they seemed to be to the paws of a manticore or the claws of a dragon or a griffon. Perhaps humans were more closely related to them than to ponies.
After describing their appearance, she started talking about some of the customs she'd read about. An autumn holiday called Halloween, similar to our Nightmare Night. A winter holiday called Christmas that was similar - very similar - to our Hearthswarming, although both had vastly different histories.
A lot of time had passed, and Miss Heartstrings had spoken the whole time, other than an occasional clarifying question from me. Bon Bon put her hoof to her head and sighed.
"It can't be healthy to know this much about a mythical creature, Doc."
"Well, that depends on several factors," I said. "Miss Sparkle was once the only pony who believed Nightmare Moon was real, so it's entirely possible that this race of humans exists, or used to exist. Likewise, at Manehattan University I met several ponies whose studies focused on such things that most ponies would consider pointless: mythology, archaeology, astronomy." They both looked at me with blank expressions, and I realized I may need to define the terms I'd used. "The study of a culture's legends or traditional tales, often involving supernatural explanations for natural phenomena; the study of historic ponies and their culture by examination of the artifacts they left behind; and the study of the stars and planets. I'm not aware of a term specifically for what Miss Heartstrings has spent much time learning about, but I'm sure there is one. I'd say it's a combination of mythology and archaeology, though."
Miss Heartstrings looked at me, a smile on her face. "You believe me about humans?"
"I wouldn't go that far, especially since I only just learned about them. Don't get me wrong," I interrupted myself, seeing her face fall a little, "I'm only skeptical because I've been trained to evaluate each claim I've come across. Like I said, with the old pony's tale of the Mare in the Moon turning out to be actual history, it lends a believable precedence to your claims."
"She's becoming more aggressive about them, though," said Bon Bon. "She's been talking more openly about them in public, and ponies are starting to give us strange looks whenever we're out because they don't think humans ever existed!"
"Even though they totally do..."
"What would you say your primary concern is about her recent behavior, then?"
"The social repercussions. I don't want us to miss out on something just because we weren't invited because somepony thinks she's weird." Her concerns were valid. The ponies in Equestria are very sociable, and aside from the most prestigious of events like the Grand Galloping Gala, social events in pretty much every other town are open to everypony, and everypony is given an invitation. If somepony can't make it, it's assumed that they had a prior engagement or the invitation got lost in the mail (though that explanation is much more rare).
"That still leaves several options available for your interest. You could pursue a degree in the field, like I pursued a degree in psychology and counseling. You could write books about these creatures, the way A. K. Yearling writes her Daring Do books about things too fantastic to happen." At this suggestion, I heard Bon Bon hide a giggle with a cough. Perhaps she thought it strange that somepony as learned as I read Daring Do, but I passed it out of my mind.
"I would also suggest not talking about humans too much unless somepony shows an interest in it. Too much too quickly will overwhelm them, and make them less receptive to the knowledge you do have."
"You're encouraging her obsession?" asked the cream-colored mare.
"I'm afraid you and I have different definitions of the term," I responded. "See, to a psychologist like myself, an obsession is 'a continual thought, concept, picture, or urge which is experienced as invasive and not proper, and results in significant fear, distress, or discomfort.' Miss Heartstrings's fixation on humans may be continual or improper, but it has not caused her fear, distress, or discomfort, therefore I cannot properly classify it as an obsession. More of a hobby."
As I gave the psychological definition of the term, I realized that Miss Sparkle fit the criteria for obsession, namely obsessing over keeping busy. Or something. I noted this down, along with a note to develop the hypothesis further.
"However, Miss Heartstrings," I continued, "you do seem to be causing some trouble for your friend here. I suggest you two talk about the issues that are causing one or both of you some distress so that it doesn't get out of hoof. Keeping such feelings hidden from the other will only cause greater pain in the future."
"It's really bothering you this much, Bon Bon?"
"Of course, Lyra. I'm not just concerned that I'll look bad because I'm with you all the time. I'm also concerned this might get in the way of your musical career, ponies not inviting you to perform and all that."
"Come on, Bon Bon, that hasn't happened yet."
"But it could! And I don't want it to get to that point."
I let the two talk with each other for a few minutes, taking a note once in a while. They came to an agreement, and as they finished their conversation they embraced before turning to me.
"Thanks for taking us on such short notice, Dr. Mindwell."
"It was no problem at all, Bon Bon. I still have plenty of open slots in my schedule anyway, though I can't promise that'll last very long. We still have a few minutes, so would you mind showing me how to sit like that, Miss Heartstrings?"