//------------------------------// // Playing // Story: Breakfast with Rose // by Admiral Biscuit //------------------------------// Breakfast with Rose Chapter 5: Playing Admiral Biscuit After paying close attention during the introductions, I only half-listened to Apple Flora's explanation of the rules, instead studying the cluster of ponies around me. Shady Daze still seemed a bit wary of me; he kept an ear pointed in my direction all the time, even when he wasn't looking my way. The rules weren't that different from playing on Earth. Nobody could leave the park—that wasn't fair—and if discovered, one could run for the safe spot, which was a bench nobody was using. When they were done discussing the rules, they picked who would be the seeker first, quickly deciding on me. It probably wasn't an honor, but I graciously accepted my role. “You gotta count to sixty,” Apple Flora reminded me. “And have your eyes closed.” By way of an answer, I closed my eyes and began counting. I heard the scuffle of hooves, and then nothing but my own voice. For being as brightly-colored as some of them were, they were pretty good hiders. If they'd gone off to their hiding spots at a full gallop, they could have gotten quite a ways away, but I didn't think that many of them would have done that. If you ran too far away, you risked being spotted before you found a hiding spot. As I started searching, I kept my eyes open for places I might be able to hide. My size was going to put me at a major disadvantage; the question was whether I could make up for it with cunning. I did have one thing going for me—height. I could see over the top of most of the low bushes, and it didn't take me very long before I noticed a bush with a blue tail sticking out of it. I took two steps in that direction before I remembered that the tail was probably attached to Shady Daze, and he was nervous around me. I didn't want to upset him by picking him, so I angled off in a different direction, moving towards a likely cluster of short trees which seemed to be moving more than the gentle wind should have caused. Sure enough, I saw some yellow when I got closer. While I considered the best way in, there was a sudden flurry of movement, and then a pair of fillies shot out of the trees, one right behind the other. For a moment, I was completely confused. I hadn't expected there to be two, and couldn't decide on which one to chase. Then I remembered that it didn't matter: as long as I could beat one of them back to the bench, I'd win. They weren't making it easy on me. They'd both spread apart, rather than taking a direct path, so I couldn't make a quick estimate of who was the fastest. I angled to the right and had made it partway back before I realized that I should be splitting the difference and going straight for the bench. If I was quicker than them, I could block their way to safety and then run one down; if I wasn't, I wouldn't waste so much energy on a fool's errand. I was quicker. While I might not have been able to keep up with an athletic adult pony at a gallop, their legs were too short to get up all that much speed, and once my victory was assured, I curved off and intercepted Peachy Pie. She loudly announced that she'd been caught, and the other ponies started emerging from their hiding places, which I took careful note of. Most of them came out in pairs, suggesting that hiding in groups was their favored strategy. I wasn't sure how I could use that to my advantage just yet, but if I knew that particular ponies usually stayed together, that might give me an edge. There would have to be a loner who I could use as a temporary teammate, relying on my quick sprint to get me out of trouble if we were discovered. Everybody clustered up, and when we were all in place, Peachy closed her eyes and started counting. All the other ponies ran off to the east, which had been their preferred direction before. There didn't seem to be any reason for it, but if that was their instinct, I could buck the trend by going in the opposite direction. So I did, angling towards a cluster of pine trees. From my position, I had decent visibility towards Peachy, but was sure I was completely obscured from her point of view. I knew that the eye was attracted to movement, so I concentrated on being as still as possible when she started looking. The first thing she did was turn my way, and I saw her lift her head up slightly. It took me a second to figure out what she was doing. I was still crouching down, not moving a muscle, but it wasn't going to do me any good: I could tell by the way her ears suddenly turned forward that she'd smelled me. No wonder all the others had run off downwind. It might not have made all that much of a difference anyway; the park was probably full of their scents, but mine was surely unique. I could tell by the angle she took on her way over that while she'd been able to get in the ballpark with my scent, she didn't have a good enough sniffer to pinpoint me. That gave me one chance, and I took it, waiting until she was poking her muzzle into the trees trying to spot me. I burst out of the pine trees at a dead run, and she was caught out. I angled wide around her and beat her to the bench by a good margin. She skidded to a stop and stomped in frustration before heading off to find some other pony. •        •        • I’d made it through two more rounds before I’d been caught by Lickety Split, who was as surprised by his victory as I had been. I was still getting the hang of good hiding places, and I hadn’t moved quickly enough when he was counting down. I’d assumed that he didn’t see me when he passed me by, but he’d been clever enough to circle around and take me from behind. When I started my next search, I’d learned enough by observation to have a pretty good idea where they’d hide. Rather than take a direct approach, I took a page out of Lickety Split’s book and went around the cluster of bushes where I’d seen a pair of them hide two times previously. It was a good bet that they still thought their hiding spot was safe. Sure enough, First Base came galloping out of the bush, followed by Peach Fuzz. I’d been prepared for that; I’d stayed closer to the bench side of the bush and outpaced both of them easily. There was something deeply satisfying about their shrieks as I closed the distance, finally getting my hand on First Base. In the next game, he caught Peachy Pie; in the round after that I teamed up with Apple Flora and we managed to avoid capture together. It did feel a little safer to have her by my side, although I would have betrayed her in an instant if we’d been discovered. I was sure she’d have done the same for me. Looking back, I wasn't sure why I agreed to play with them. It was an impulsive choice, one I probably would not have made if I'd had time to think about it. There are all sorts of ways that things can go wrong when an adult gets involved in children's games, and that's assuming that the adult is familiar with the rules of the game. In many ways, I was still a total outsider to them, and my position in town was tenuous at best. The dark side of my imagination could conjure up all sorts of ways that this could go horribly wrong, from some action on my part being totally misunderstood, to a foal somehow getting injured, and the blame falling squarely on my shoulders. I tensed as I heard a twig snap nearby. Liza wasn't saying anything. She was playing the part of a predator, trying to psych out her prey. She probably knew roughly where I was, and was waiting for me to foolishly reveal myself. I wouldn't give her the satisfaction. The bush totally blocked my view. I thought I saw a flash of movement between the branches, but it was most likely my imagination. Was she circling, getting my scent? Were her ears turned in, waiting for the rustle of leaves or the snap of a twig to betray me? Off to my left, I heard her shout “Gotcha!” The disappointed reply from the hidee sounded genuine, so I risked standing up. Hopefully, it wasn't a trap. •        •        • “That's not fair!” Apple Flora stomped to illustrate her point. “Why not?” I called back. “You didn't limit where I could hide.” “I found you.” “So tag me.” I stuck my tongue out and blew a raspberry. She swished her tail and then dropped down on her rump, her eyes never leaving mine. “You have to come down sometime.” “I'm in no hurry,” I assured her, dangling my leg like bait. I knew she couldn't reach it. I'd gotten the idea to hide in a tree fairly quickly, although I’d held off on doing so until Apple Flora was the seeker. I wasn't much of a tree-climber, but there were some trees in the park which had fairly low branches, and foals weren't any good at climbing trees. They also didn't tend to look up, which made sense since none of Apple Flora's friends were fliers. She probably wouldn't have found me at all if I hadn't had to sneeze at a rather inopportune time. She was right, of course. It wasn't fair. But sometimes life was like that. “I can see Sunny Daze from where I am.” “Really?” She turned her head, looking off in the direction I had been, hoping to spot somepony she could capture. She wasn't going to have much luck: Sunny Daze's ears had come up at the mention of her name, and I could tell by the way she was shortening up her body that she'd figured that she was discovered and was going to risk a gallop to the safe spot. To give her a better chance at success, I shifted around on my perch, bringing Apple Flora's attention back to me. “You know,” I said conversationally, “my ancestors lived in trees.” It was technically true. “Humans are very good tree-climbers.” That wasn't as true, but in general we were better than ponies. “Did they climb trees so that they could pounce on unsuspecting prey? Miss Cheerilee said that you sometimes eat meat.” I nodded soberly. “That's true.”  She scrunched up her muzzle. “Ew. You—” Her head snapped around as Sunny Daze broke cover, and she launched herself off the ground, although she needn't have bothered. There was no way Apple Flora could gallop fast enough to catch her. She realized that halfway to the safe spot and simply gave up, dropping down to a trot, before looping around and heading back my way. I could have kept to my perch. I know I could have outlasted her, but that wasn't the way the game was played. While it had been fun tormenting her, there wasn't anything to be gained by being viewed as someone who didn't play by the rules, so I dropped out of the trees and started my own jog towards the safe spot. She probably wouldn't figure out that I'd intended for her to catch me. From her last gallop, I'd gotten a pretty good guess of her speed, and I deliberately took an easily-intercepted path to the safe spot. Apple Flora bumped me in the back of the leg with her nose while I was only halfway there, and I slowed to a stop. “You should have stayed in the tree,” she told me, as if I hadn't already known that. “I wouldn't have been able to get you.” I crouched down. “I thought I could make it.” “I got Sam,” she announced loudly, and her friends began emerging from their hiding spots. “No more hiding in trees,” she added, giving me the stink-eye. “It’s not fair.” •        •        • The game broke up not long after that. The town clock chimed and most of the ponies headed off for home, leaving only three of us in the park—Apple Flora, Liza Doolots, and Shady Daze. He appeared to have overcome his initial fear of me, which was a good sign. He wasn’t willing to sit on the bench with me like Apple Flora was, but he wasn’t hiding behind Liza anymore either. My stomach growled at me just then. Playing had been hard work, and it hadn’t been helped by my decision to skip lunch on account of our large late breakfast. Fortunately, I had half a loaf of bread left, and a few veggies I hadn’t used for the stir-fry last night. I rubbed my hand through Apple Flora’s mane and she pressed her head into my side, rubbing along my ribcage. “Sam says that she can be our swimming buddy,” she announced. My eyes involuntarily went to Shady Daze. There was no way I was going to go skinny dipping with a colt. I wasn’t ready for that at all. “Really?” Liza gave me a hopeful look. “We could go right now!” “Yeah!” Crap. “I . . . ah. . . .” I scrambled for an excuse. I could have just said no; that was the easy answer.  “I’m a little tired from playing hide and seek.” “Oh.” Apple Flora’s ears fell. “If I come home with a lather on my coat, mom’s going to make me take a bath.” Shazy Daze stuck out his tongue. “I hate taking baths.” I wasn’t sure how much different he felt it was to swim in the river versus taking a bath. “Well,” I said, “what if you swim and I just stay up on the bank and watch you? That would be okay, wouldn’t it?” The three of them shared a look, and then Liza nodded. “Thanks, Sam!” Apple Flora stretched up and nuzzled my cheek before hopping off the bench, while I cursed myself for being a pushover. At least I’d thought of the idea of just watching; that was safe. As we walked towards the river, I counted my blessings that I didn’t have to face a barrage of questions this time around. The three foals were happy gossiping with each other, while I was a third wheel. I didn’t mind. Instead of going to my personal bathing spot, Liza led them to a closer bend in the river, one without any significant slope down towards the water. The three of them jumped in without any hesitation, and while I did briefly consider the advantages of joining them, I didn’t want to walk home in wet clothes. A large tree near the river’s edge provided a convenient backrest, from where I could watch them play. Not only was it close to the water, but its canopy shaded me from the late-afternoon sun. There was something funny about watching ponies swim. From the movement of their backs and the way their heads bobbed, it was almost like they were trying to gallop in the river. I wished the water had been clearer; I would have liked to see how their legs moved. I sat on the bank and rested, reflecting on my day. In one sense, it hadn’t been productive. I hadn’t earned any bits, I hadn’t spent any more time knitting, and what few minor chores I’d done around the house weren’t really that much of an accomplishment. But the positive side, I had gained the trust of no fewer than two more ponies, and perhaps as many as seven. I’d been given the dubious honor of speaking at the school, and I’d had a pleasant, relaxing morning with Rose. And I’d played hide and seek for the first time in a decade or so, and hadn’t totally sucked at it. All in all, I concluded the day had been a success.