//------------------------------// // "No, I'm not allergic to butts." // Story: Rumble's Big Day // by Wise Cracker //------------------------------// “What do you mean, she never noticed you?” Rumble shrugged again. “Just what I said: Rainbow Dash never paid any attention to me. She didn’t need to. She was busy with the other ponies, who needed to get up to ten wingpower.” “But you just said your wingpower was already crazy high, for your age.” He nodded. “It was. There were fully grown mares there that I could fly circles around. Some mares, I could still fly circles around today, I think. But I’m too young to join a club, so I can’t really check.” “And nopony said anything about that? Not even Twilight Sparkle?” “Twilight didn’t say anything. She just told me my number, wrote it down, let the next pony go. That’s all she needed to do.” The way he said it was gut-wrenching, but she couldn’t tell whether that was because he was genuinely upset about it or because his voice was so high and squeaky that anything he said might sound like he’s upset. It was like listening to Sweetie Belle. Still, whether he was torn up about it or not, she sympathised with him. Wow. Talk about droppin’ the ball on that one. No wonder he hates girls. “Umm, okay, then. So how did the practice go? Training, I mean?” Rumble raised a hoof to his chin and pondered, leaning back on that vaguely Diamond Tiara-shaped doll. “You just want to know what Scootaloo could try, right?” “Right.” “Okay. First thing we did was fly laps around the course.” “Which Scootaloo can’t do, because she can’t get off the ground.” “Right. Then there was trotting exercises, all the different techniques.” “Trotting… techniques?” Rumble nodded. “Trotting techniques: different kinds, different rhythms. The trots are very important for your flying. Thunderlane’s a really good trotter, and I always do it for warm-ups.” “How does trotting help with flying?” Rumble got up and started trotting in little circles around the darkened gazebo, oblivious to any stray raindrops that might hit him in the deluge. “When you trot, you’re hopping up and down, like this. You get used to moving your body more lightly.” “Oh. That makes sense.” “Then there’s the bouncing. When you fly, there’s always a little spring in your wings.” He flapped his wings once, then twice, to illustrate. “Flying in place like this, hovering, that’s something you need good spring action for, otherwise you get tired and fall. Trotting helps you get that rhythm down. Does that sound like something Scootaloo could do?” Apple Bloom nodded eagerly. “Yeah, actually, it does. I mean, she flaps her wings as fast as a hummin’bird, but she plummets after a couple of seconds.” “That does sound like trotting practice would help, then.” He set down and proceeded to plump his rump down on that doll again, hard. “There’s a part of it that’s pure pegasus magic, if that makes any sense.” “Do you know how you work pegasus magic, by any chance?” “Sure, just regular flying and making tornadoes, or making straight winds. It’s the same as training your muscles. But training doesn’t make it happen when you don’t have magic already. Magic is tricky like that. You don’t really try hard and get it, you just, umm…” He looked away, blushing. “It’s hard to explain.” “You just get out of bed one day and float instead of fall, I know.” “Right, Featherweight told you. He’d know that better; he got it later. I was too young to remember when it happened, exactly.” “Actually, come to think of it, is that why baby pegasi can fly, too?” She asked. “Or float, or hover, or whatever?” “I guess. But not every pegasus can do that right away. There’s other stuff involved in it, I don’t really know what.” “Okay, just checkin’. But you were saying, aside from the trotting?” “Umm, second drill was wing push-ups.” Apple Bloom checked Rumble’s wings. “Those things don’t look long enough to reach to the ground. And, are your wings the same size as Scootaloo’s?” “Uhuh. Here, you can check. Hold out your arm.” He stretched his right wing out and let Apple Bloom measure with her arm. She had to suppress a blush from feeling his warm pulse, too. To the girl’s best recollection, he was about on par with Scootaloo’s wingspan. “Huh. Weird, I always figured her wings were kinda small compared to a regular pegasus. No offense.” “None taken. But who told you they were small?” “She did.” She withdrew her arm, letting him fold his wing back. Rumble nodded sagely. “Well, there you go. You can’t judge the size of a body part just by looking down at yourself; you need a mirror. Otherwise perspective gets in the way and things seem a lot smaller than they really are. So you can tell her to relax about that. It’s not the size that counts, anyway, it’s how you use it.” “I think she’ll be happy to hear that. Did you learn that at the tornado thing, too?” He smiled nervously and blushed. “Umm, no, most ponies learn that sooner or later. Well, most colts do. It’s a boy thing, you wouldn’t understand.” Apple Bloom grumbled pensively at that. Maybe Big Macintosh could shed some light on that matter. “Anyway,” Rumble continued, “if your wings are too small to push up on, you just find a pair of chairs or something else to push against. That works just fine.” “And how many can you do? Push-ups, I mean?” “Well, I don’t have any chairs here, but regular ones?” Rumble shrugged and proceeded to do his reps right in front of her. “Umm, wait, I didn’t mean…” “Five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. That’s usually when I start getting tired,” he said. “Oh. Huh.” The girl sounded disappointed. “What?” “Oh, nothin’, just… I thought it’d be more, since you’re such a good flyer and all.” “Oh. Umm, it depends. At that speed, I do a couple of sets for a workout. If it’s just one, I can usually only get around ten, if I go slow.” “How slow?” Again, Rumble showed the girl. He went down with one careful breath in, then went back up in a slow, calm, collected motion. His face contorted with the exertion, though, and his taut chest bulged. With his muscles tensed like that, it made Apple Bloom realise that Rumble was quite thin, actually. Girlishly so, even. He could really stand to bulk up some more. Again, he went down, and up, slowly. Silence fell between them. Apple Bloom didn’t want to interrupt his training, after all. When he got to ten, his face was red. “Just like that.” He got back up and returned to his seat. “You do that every day?” “No, of course not. That’d be silly.” Oh, good, so he’s not completely overdoin’ it, at least. “Muscles don’t grow when you overwork them, you gotta give them rest, and stretch them out in time. I only do that once or twice a week, not even every week. Wouldn’t wanna bulk up too much, after all.” He chuckled nervously. Just mostly overdoing it, then. Apple Bloom tilted her head, confused. “Why not? You wouldn’t look half bad with a bigger chest. You’re obviously willin’ to work for it. Not that you look bad now, I mean-” “I need speed,” he interrupted before she could make an even bigger fool of herself. “So I need to be built like Rainbow Dash or Spitfire.” “Or Thunderlane or Soarin’,” Apple Bloom said. Rumble looked away. “Yeah. Them, too. Wonderbolts are hard and lean. I can’t afford to lose any speed for bulk. Look at what happened to Bulk Biceps at the Equestria Games.” Judging from how his ears fell when he said it, she figured that was another sore spot for the boy. “Okay, so you were doin’ the exercises for Wonderbolts physique. You’ve seen Scootaloo, think she’s got what it takes?” “If she’d been airborne by the time tornado duty rolled around, she would have been able to keep up, I’m sure. But that’s the thing: muscle first, magic second. Pegasus bodies are temples. You have to maintain them properly for the magic to stay.” “What about Fluttershy, then?” He fell silent. His jaw almost clenched at the mention of that name. Almost. “What about her?” “I heard Fluttershy couldn’t fly, either. You were there when she went to practice, do you know why?” He smiled at that. “Oh, Fluttershy could fly. She just, umm, didn’t.” “What do you mean?” “She left after the first measurement.” Apple Bloom tilted her head. “Really? That ain’t how I heard it.” “Then what did you hear?” “I heard a couple of bullies made fun of her and chased her off.” “Flitter and Cloud Chaser are not bullies,” Rumble replied. “They weren’t even talking to her; they were talking to each other. One of them giggled, right when Fluttershy went past, and then she just… stopped, in the middle of her measurement. She cried and ran, over nothing.” “Oh, okay. And was there anything wrong with her, that you know of? Technical-like, I mean?” He nodded. “Fluttershy has problems with confidence. That’ll work against you, big time. It blocks your magic; it’s a safety mechanism. Ponies started on land, so did pegasus ponies. If you don’t believe you can fly, your body blocks your magic. It stops you from trying, so you can’t hurt yourself. Or at least, it tries to. Do you think that might be what’s keeping Scootaloo down?” “Gosh, good question. I don’t think so. She’s about as tough as I am. But that don’t mean I don’t get scared, wouldn’t mean she’s above it, either. Was there anything off about Fluttershy when she tried to fly? Anything to look out for?” Rumble sighed and pondered. “Normally, when a pegasus pony gets scared, their wings lock up. Makes you a smaller target, you know? Plus, it’s easier to hide on the ground than it is in the sky. Do Scootaloo’s wings ever lock up like that? Like, fold to her sides, stop moving?” She had to think long and hard about that one. “No. No, that ain’t ever happened. Matter of fact, I’m not so sure if I’ve ever seen her wings down at all. They’re always up.” “Then it’s not a confidence issue. Pegasus wings, they’ve got a mind of their own sometimes. They can just pop up right out of nowhere, and they’ll stay up to look more imposing. Stand tall, look bigger, that sort of thing.” “Like a Wonderbolt would?” “Yeah, exactly like that. Wonderbolts always stand tall, no matter what.” She nodded. “So, what about after? You trained with everypony else?” “Yup. Twilight got out her notes and her abacus, and she started running the numbers, to see how close we were to the record. The first day was basic warm-up and umm, trial, triage? Something like that,” he explained. “They split us up so the professional flyers wouldn’t be doing the same routines as the others. You had the faster ones, who were already over ten, and the slower ones, who couldn’t even make seven. In between that, you had the biggest bunch: the ponies who didn’t fly for a living, but who were in pretty decent shape.” “Oh, and that’s where you were, too, huh?” He shook his head. “No, actually.” “Really? Oh, you got put into the faster crowd with your brother, huh?” Rumble psyched himself up as he got back to the starting line, trotting in place to warm his muscles. On the sidelines, his big brother stood, along with Flitter and Cloudchaser. Everypony else, he didn’t really know. There was one filly from around town, but she hadn’t done a test run, so he guessed she was just there to watch. “Okay, Rumble?” Twilight called out, never looking up from her paper. “Day one, second measurement. Ready?” “Ready!” He called out with that girly voice of his. “Go!” The boy burst out of the starting lines. He kept his arms and legs folded close to him, just like his brother had said, he kept his wings beating in a steady rhythm, never rushing ahead of the flow. He flapped and beat as hard as he could, just like before. Rumble rushed past the meter, then skidded to a halt. “How was that?” “Six point six. That’s gonna be a problem,” she said, moving some beads on her abacus. “You’ll want to talk to Blossomforth about getting faster; you should be over seven by now.” His stomach knotted. He’d failed. Then again, Wonderbolts don’t let failure stop them. It still stung, though. “Oh, okay, will do.” Rumble turned his back to the mare, pouting to himself. “Guess I’ll be with the slower ponies, then.” He gulped. Stay strong, Rumble. Wonderbolts don’t give up. Spike was not amused when the colt walked away. “Uh, Twilight? Are you sure that’s a good idea?” “If what is a good idea?” “Putting Rumble with the slower ponies? I mean, they’re gonna be working double time.” Twilight still didn’t look up from her paper, except to check her abacus. “Why not? She only got a six point six after a day’s worth of training, that’s too low. Aside from the stragglers, everypony else who’s not a professional flyer already got up to seven by now, seven and a half for some. We can’t afford anyone lagging behind, not with our schedule, not if we want the record.” “Twilight? I’m pretty sure Rumble’s not a ‘she,’ but a ‘he’. You saw him just this morning. If you just turn your head a little...” “Uhuh. Next up: Bulk Biceps! Day one, second run, ready?” “Yeah!” Spike let out a private grunt. Twilight had her nose in papers and calculations. Getting her attention when she was like this was a lost cause, if the historical record was anything to go by. “Where’s Rainbow Dash?” He asked. “She’d know this better than me and you.” “I think she said she was getting another lazy pony trying to cheat out of their duties. And know what?” She turned to look at her anemometer as the breeze hit her. “Okay, Bulk, that’s a seven point o five, you’re clear!” As soon as she said it, more beads moved on her abacus, more notes were scribbled, more numbers juggled. “See? Bulk Biceps is on schedule. We all need to be, if we want to be number one.” “Yeah!” came another excited roar. “Don’t you think maybe you should talk to Rumble?” The dragon asked. “Why? If she can’t keep up, she needs to train more, same as everypony else.” “I don’t think you’re really listening to me, Twilight.” “Star Hunter!” Twilight called out. “Come on, you need to get your measurements.” Spike groaned. “Never mind.” “Oh, this is interesting,” Sweetie Belle said, holding up a chart. “According to this, there’s a growth chart for pegasus wing power. That’s what they used for tornado training, too.” “Really? Wait, what’s a growth chart?” Scootaloo leaned in closer. “It’s a schedule for what you ought to be able to do after training,” Featherweight replied. “Like, if you’re out of shape, you can get five. If you can’t even get three, you have some kind of problem.” Scootaloo grumbled. “Oh. How does that help?” “Well, it says here that it only takes one day of training for a pony who doesn’t control the weather for a living to get up to the level of one who does. The ponies who do it regularly just need less effort to do it, because they’re used to it and all,” Sweetie Belle explained. “So?” “So, once you get flying it won’t take you that long to get up to a higher wing power. Right?” Sweetie turned to Featherweight. “That’s the idea. Foals start out around one, they can get up to three if they train really hard for, um, a month or so, I think. Everypony on tornado duty had to be up to seven wing power after day one. That was the first plateau. They had to keep up with the rest, too. The slowest ponies had to work hardest to get up to ten.” “Even Rumble?” Scootaloo asked. “No, of course not,” Sweetie Belle said. “He’s only a little pegasus. They wouldn’t make him get up to ten wingpower that fast, especially if he didn’t even have to fly in the tornado.” Featherweight raised an eyebrow. “What?” Sweetie asked. “You mean you didn’t know?” “Know what?” “Back when that tornado thing was going on, Rumble wasn’t just there for practice: he was there for the event. And he didn’t just train with the adults; he was on the same schedule. He worked just as hard as they did,” Featherweight explained. “But… you can’t do that when you’re that young, can you? That’d be like me trying to teleport already.” “I guess no one told him,” the colt replied. “Or they did, and he didn’t care. Like I said: he’s crazy.” Scootaloo pondered it. “So… if everypony had to train really hard to get up to ten wingpower, how did he do it?” “I ended up with the slow ponies. My wingpower was under seven after the first day, so I got lumped in with Blossomforth, Derpy Hooves, the slower mares. Well, slower sprinters. They were all endurance flyers, mostly. Extreme long distances.” Apple Bloom tilted her head, confused. “But… I thought you said your wingpower was crazy high.” “For my age, yes. But for an able-bodied pegasus, it was pretty low. So I just had to practise ten times harder. And if that didn’t work, twenty or thirty times harder.” Apple Bloom felt her heart skip a beat then. Whoa. Heard that one before. “And, umm, that training was?” Rumble got up and started trotting in place. “Mostly this. Lots of trotting, jumping, making sure you get your breath synched, that kind of thing. And then Blossomforth had everypony do stretches, ‘coz she’s super flexible. Scootaloo knows how to stretch, right?” Right. I’m asking for Scootaloo. Gotta remember that. Don’t get distracted. “Uh, yeah, we got that covered already.” “Then there was wing presses.” Rumble fell silent. “Presses?” “Umm, you know what a bench press is?” “Oh, like you just push a bar up?” Apple Bloom did the pushing motion with her arms. “Yeah, like that, but with your wings. We did that, too. But I wasn’t that good at it, because, you know…” The girl nodded in sympathy. “Still only a little pegasus, I get it. Me and my friends get into stuff like that too, sometimes. It doesn’t matter if you’re little, as long as you pace yourself. Work with what you can.” “Uhuh. Wonderbolts learn to improvise.” Apple Bloom tilted her head and checked his physique again. He did look suspiciously like Scootaloo in terms of leanness and muscle. Why would the two be so different? “So how much can you lift?” “Hmm? Oh, I can-” Boom! Apple Bloom jumped right up. “Umm, I can lift about this much. And hold it for a while,” Rumble said. Looking down, Apple Bloom realised she’d jumped into Rumble’s arms, and he’d caught her. And he was holding on to her. “Oh, okay. Sorry, the thunder kinda caught me off guard there.” “It does that,” Rumble replied, looking out at the meadows being sprinkled by the summer shower. “Nice catch, by the way. Ever consider dancing?” Rumble’s body tensed. ”Umm, no? Why do you ask?” “Well, I just mean, if you can trot that well, got a good sense of rhythm, and you can lift a girl off her hooves, you’d be pretty good at it.” “I am not a dancer,” he replied flatly. “I’m a future Wonderbolt.” “It was only a suggestion. You can put me down now, if you like.” Carefully, gingerly, he let her down, hind hooves first. He was so gentle, her mind wandered to fairy tales of gallant princes. “Thank you. So, umm, how do you keep track of your progress? How do you keep going?” “What do you mean?” “You know, how do you stay motivated? Do you compete with anypony?” “No, I don’t do competition. Or team sports. Too young, remember? At least for flying. I measure my wingpower from time to time, make lists of the moves I can do. And I get good examples to follow, you know? I have, umm, posters of my heroes. Like Spitfire, Fleetfoot, all the great Wonderbolts.” “And Soarin,” Apple Bloom added. Again, Rumble looked away. “All the great Wonderbolts, yeah.” So that was the part he was touchy about. The Wonderbolt stallions. She wondered why. “What about your friends?” “What friends?” “Didn’t anypony cheer you on for that training?” “Sure they did: Thunderlane, Flitter, Cloud Chaser.” “I don’t mean that. I mean other kids, like from our class." “What does that have to do with Scootaloo and flying?” He asked. “Umm, well, I dunno, if, umm… if Fluttershy had problems with her confidence and that kept her down, how do you avoid that kind of problem?” He held his head up high. “I just think about what a Wonderbolt would do. That’s all I need to do.” She raised an eyebrow. “Really? That’s it? You don’t have any friends to cheer you on? Not even Featherweight?” “Featherweight’s not my friend, exactly. Not any more than you were with Twist, if I remember it right. We’re in the same class, that’s it.” “See, that’s what I don’t get. Shouldn’t you be more popular by now?” He grumbled, annoyed. “Popular, compared to what?” “Well, compared to... “ Rumble raised an eyebrow at her. “Compared to me and my friends. I’m surprised Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon never tried to get chummy with you.” Rumble fixed a glare on her then. “Oh. They did try to get chummy with you, huh?” The boy shrugged nonchalantly. “Diamond Tiara never gave me any trouble. She’s always been nice to me.” “But her friends?” He chuckled. “I try to stay away when they’re in town. They don’t like boys.” “Those Slipper girls? Yeah, I noticed. But Diamond never gave you any grief? Ever?” “No, not her. She wouldn’t dare,” he half-threatened. “But she’s not the cheering type, either.” “Look, Diamond’s got it rough, she doesn’t mean to. Her family’s just different.” He nodded. “Oh, I know. Me and Diamond Tiara, we understand each other. Her mom likes me, always has. So I do hang out with Diamond Tiara when she needs a boy to chaperone. Like, Canterlot parties, that sort of thing.” “And Silver Spoon?” “Not her. Just Diamond Tiara. I don’t really know Silver Spoon that well.” This threw a wrench in the girl’s thoughts. “But if she’s so nice to you, why wouldn’t she invite you to her cuteceñeara?” He shrugged and winced. “She did. I just turned her down.” “Oh, okay. Wait, what?” “I turned her down, why do you ask?” Apple Bloom took a moment to collect herself. It did not help. “Why would you turn down an invitation to one of the most important parties in school, from a girl who likes you?” He rolled his eyes. “Because I don’t eat cake, duh.” This finally, and immediately, explained why he wasn’t very social. “Oh, now it makes sense. You got one of them butt allergies, don’t you?” “Butt allergies?” “Yeah, my cousin Corny told me about it. Some ponies are allergic to glutes, so they can’t eat cake. I never did understand how that worked, though.” Rumble did what any pony would have done and stared at her blankly. “Err, I don’t know about any butt allergies, but that’s not it. I don’t have any allergies. I lost a couple of pounds of baby-fat doing that tornado training, and I need to be careful I don’t put it back on. That’s all.” Apple Bloom took her turn in staring blankly. “You’re kidding. You don’t even eat normal?” “Sure I eat normal. I eat oats and milk for breakfast every day, and some fruit. And I make my own veggie wraps for lunch, and smoothies for dinner, sometimes. And I eat rice cakes for dessert.” Rice cakes? Ugh. “But, but…” “Do you know if Scootaloo’s eating right?” That, Apple Bloom took as ‘don’t push the topic.’ As much as she wanted to, she let it go. “I think she is. I’ve seen her eat the same stuff I do, and I get plenty of exercise.” “You might want to make sure, then. The breakfast of champions can make all the difference.” She sighed and looked down. “Was it worth it?” “Was what worth what?” “Was losin’ weight and training that hard worth the speed boost? What difference did it make for you, I mean? How much faster did you get at the end of it all?” “Well…” Rumble stood by at the starting line. Just like before, Twilight had her nose in her papers, and one eye trained on the machine. “Okay, Rumble, day six, run two, ready?” “Ready!” “Go!” Going to top speed didn’t hurt as much now. His wings moved all on their own, the burning in his lungs had subsided. His body was a lean, mean flying machine now. Plenty of energy left for more. With a burst of sheer willpower, he blasted himself across the finish line, leaving a grey trail as he went skidding over the finish line. “Seven point three! That’s still below what we need for the record, but it’ll do for the lifting. Bulk Biceps, to the starting line, please!” “Wait, only seven point three? Didn’t I get any muh-” Rumble felt the ground shift under him. Something in his stomach knotted, and his head suddenly felt a lot heavier. “Whoa, there, big guy,” Thunderlane said as he picked up his little brother in mid-fall. He held a hoof up to hide a cough. “I think you overdid it a little bit.” “But it’s not good enough,” Rumble meekly said. He clenched his eyes shut to try and will away the headrush that had built up. “Aww, don’t worry, Rumble, we’ve got it covered.” Cloud Chaser gave him a playful noogie and offered him a sports drink. “You just have to worry about helping get the water up, remember? Leave the record breaking to the grownups. Seven point three is great, you should be proud of yourself.” Rumble grumbled. “Maybe I shouldn’t come tomorrow.” “Hey, no slacking off, okay?” Thunderlane said. “Rainbow Dash would never let me hear the end of it.” “But I’m only a seven point three and everypony else is a ten. I can’t fly tomorrow; I’ll be a laughing stock.” “You are not going to be a laughing stock,” Cloud Chaser said. “You’re gonna do your best and you’re gonna do great. Wonderbolts don’t give up, remember?” Rumble nodded. “Wonderbolts don’t give up, Wonderbolts don’t bail. But it’s still not enough, Twilight said-” “Twilight’s just distracted, is all. Ask her, talk to her, she’ll tell you to ease up,” Thunderlane said. “Everypony over twelve wingpower, gather ‘round, please?!” A mare called out. “We need to do a calibration.” “That’s us. Talk to Twilight,” Thunderlane said, pointing towards the unicorn. “Are you good? Not dizzy anymore?” Rumble took a long sip of the drink and got back on his hooves. “Okay, I’m good.” He walked towards Twilight as his big brother and foalsitters went to join the other ace flyers for coordinated wind making. Rumble walked, he didn’t stumble. He took that as a small victory in and of itself. He cleared his throat when he was mere paces away from Twilight Sparkle and Spike. “Umm, Miss Twilight? I’ve been thinking.” “So what’s the verdict, Twilight?” Rainbow Dash asked as she landed right next to her friend. Rumble stopped. The mares hadn’t noticed him yet. Even Spike was busy with his papers. “Well, we’re all set to get the record. Everypony’s up to ten wingpower. Almost everypony.” Rumble let his head hang guiltily. Just three more points and he’d be there. “Are you sure you can’t get Fluttershy back?” Twilight asked. “Every little bit would help, especially if you want to keep the record for more than a year.” “No,” Rainbow Dash replied. “You heard her: she’s too embarrassed about her score. She can’t fly.” This seemed pretty obvious to Rumble. Fluttershy hadn’t been training with everypony else. He didn’t interrupt the mares, though. Wonderbolts are polite, after all, and Rumble did everything the Wonderbolt way. “Actually, she can, she just doesn’t,” Spike noted. “Ow!” Rumble winced. That hit Spike took looked painful. He wasn't about to step into that. “Spike, that’s a terrible thing to say.” Twilight put her hoof down after slapping him. “It’s not her fault she has confidence issues. How would you like it if everypony flew with ten wingpower and you only flew with two point three?” “I don’t have wings, Twilight,” Spike replied, straightening the spike that had gotten bent from the impact. “Still. You wouldn’t want to do it, either.” “No, but I’d still do it,” Spike argued. “If ponies were counting on me, I'd do it.” Rumble let out a quiet snort. The day had passed. He’d been there when Fluttershy had gone, before he’d given it his all. He’d been flying in the breeze then. He was shaking with exertion now. It didn’t matter. He saw things clearly now. Fluttershy was embarrassed about her low score, just like he was. She wanted to stay home, just like he was contemplating. Fluttershy could run, and no one went to get her, all week long. Rumble couldn’t back out. He still had to ask his question. Could he stay home tomorrow? Should he? What would a Wonderbolt do? Twilight was busy. He doubted she’d even noticed him. There were other ponies to consider, he realised. Other ponies who were more important than him. A Wonderbolt would do what needed to be done. A Wonderbolt wouldn’t bail out on his team mates. The other ponies of Ponyville needed him. The numbers had to match. Every little bit would count. Even his. Ponyville had to be number one. And he’d be part of making it so. “Did you want something, little girl?” Twilight asked, again only looking at him sideways. She was too busy looking in the distance to where Fluttershy had fled to. “No, Twilight. I’m fine, thank you.” The headrush came back. He wobbled on his hooves, but only for a moment. Like anyone on the team, he had to get up to speed. Looking forward, he saw his brother leading the charge, making a proper maelstrom with the rest of the over-twelves. He’d be fine. He just had to pony up. He’d earn his praise if he had to. Even if Fluttershy could just run away and cry with no consequence. After all, Fluttershy wasn’t Wonderbolt material. He was. It wouldn’t have been fair to hold her to that kind of standard. He’d show her. He’d show everypony. Rumble had always prided himself in living by Wonderbolt rules. Don’t give up, always stand tall, never bail out. There were a lot of rules, and he probably hadn’t learned all of them yet. But there was one rule he never forgot. One simple rule that kept him going. Wonderbolts lead by example. “I went from five points to seven, maybe eight on a good day. That’s good, but it’s nothing special. Average pro level.” As much as he tried to hide it, Apple Bloom noticed his distress. That little quiver in his voice, the subtle shininess in his eyes, even with the rain falling nearby, he couldn’t hide it perfectly. “Okay. Just one question: if two points is nothing special, why did everypony else have to train so hard to get that?” Rumble looked away, at the rain. “I mean, you said most ponies started out around five or seven, and they ended up around ten. So they all got three or five points higher, after training that hard. Why would it be less of a big deal for you?” He shook his head. “Okay, maybe it was kind of special.” “I don’t get it, Rumble. Why do you pretend you’re too slow? I thought you were supposed to be crazy good?” “Says who?” “Says Diamond Tiara, and Featherweight.” “They don’t know what they’re talking about. They don’t have anything to compare to,” Rumble argued. “And you do?” He sighed. “Sure. Ten wingpower, that’s something to compare to. Wonderbolt level, that’s something to compare to. Wonderbolts get ten wingpower, easily.” “Except you ain’t a Wonderbolt, and you ain’t gonna be until you’re grown up. You do realise you can’t get up to that kind of level until you’re older, right? If grownups have trouble getting that high in a week of trainin’ their tails off, I don’t think a foal is supposed to have it easy getting that high.” He scowled. “What would you know about that? You’re the one asking me about flight practice. You’re the one asking me about a pegasus you think should be able to fly by now. What do you know about our levels? Why do you even care how I feel about my speed? Aren’t the numbers good enough?” She flinched. “I care because I’m tryin’ to be nice to ya, and because you seem like a nice pony, too. Numbers are good, but they gotta serve a purpose. And I’m startin’ to get the distinct impression you got on the wrong end of some pony’s lack of attention. If somepony’s done you wrong, you ought to be able to say so and talk it out.” “Maybe if you’re the one being wronged, but not me. Things are different for some ponies.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Why are you here, Apple Bloom, really?” “I wanted to help Scootaloo.” “If you really wanted to help, you’d have focused on the training. You wouldn’t even think twice about anything that might upset me. You’re not interested in her; you’re interested in me. Why?” She put a hoof up in defense. “Look, I don’t know what other girls have been saying or doing to you, but I’m not like that. I don’t want you to get upset.” He snorted and glared at her. “You’re not here just for training tips.” “Yes, I am.” “Then why haven’t you asked about reps or sets yet? You’ve trained for athletic stuff, your Sisterhooves Social. You know what to ask for, but that’s not what you’re doing. You think I don’t notice how you cringe every time I mention something the least bit painful? You’re not here just for Scootaloo. If that was all it was, you wouldn’t even be trying me, and least of all alone. You’d have gotten her to see a doctor, or a dietician, or a massage therapist, or a… zebra witch doctor, or any number of ponies who’d know better than me. You could have gotten everything you wanted at Twilight’s castle library. Or, better yet, you could have just asked your good friend Princess of Friendship Twilight Sparkle herself. But you didn’t.” “I guess I didn’t think this through.” His voice softened at that. “Please don’t lie to me, Apple Bloom. I’ve been friends with Diamond Tiara for way longer than you have. I know a lie when I hear one. I may not know you that well, but I know your reputation. You’re smart, and you’ve always been smart. You wouldn’t just forget to go to somepony else. You want something from me, specifically. So why don’t you stop pretending and just tell me what it is? What are you doing here, really?” “W-well, I…”