//------------------------------// // Chapter 8 // Story: Whatever Way the Wind Takes You // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// From the journal of Gloomy August— Sometimes, things don’t end, they fork. That happened to me. Life forked. Looking back, I can see that now. Back when I was in Ponyville, life forked. I had a choice to stay or go and I went. The same thing happened again. We reached the tunnel and life forked. Our friendship wasn’t ending, it was forking. Life was taking me to a different place. I could not go into the tunnel. I thought about it, but the long dark scares me. The time had come for me to fly away. Sometimes, life just forks you. What can you do? I have never walked so far in all my life and my hoofsies were pretty beat up. Earth ponies have hard hooves, they have to have hard hooves, but some pegasi have softer hooves. It is how we get a good grip on the clouds we wrangle. Clouds are soft, poofy things, and hard hooves would damage them. Hard sharp edges would cut the cloud and make it break up. I know that Rainbow Dash has sensitive hooves and she doesn’t like walking on the ground because it hurts her. Now I know why and I think I understand Rainbow Dash just a little bit better. Hachikō told me that if I kept travelling, I would find purpose. He confused me. A pony gains purpose by getting their cutie mark. I told him so. But then he said that I have my cutie mark and he asked me if I felt like I had purpose in my life. I don’t. I’m still very confused. How can I have my cutie mark but not have purpose? My purpose is to make storms. I touch clouds and they get all grey and cranky and once they get in a bad enough mood, they widdle everywhere. At least, this is what my cutie mark is telling me. But I’m not satisfied. I make storms day in and day out. Every cloud I touch goes stormy. You would think that I’m a pony with a purpose, but I feel something is missing. It’s all very difficult to put into words. How can a pony have their cutie mark but still feel like they don’t have a purpose? It is a mystery to me. It makes me feel very small, very alone, and a little afraid. Maybe life isn’t like how I was told it was. I don’t want to come right out and say that I was lied to, because that’s just awful, I don’t think anypony lied to me intentionally, but maybe they didn’t know? Maybe they were just wrong. But doing something wrong on purpose? That’s just bad and I would hope that my fellow ponies would never do something wrong or dishonest on purpose. That’s unthinkable. Maybe cutie marks aren’t what we think they are. I don’t know. What I do know is, my life will be forever different because of Picklesworth, Gleamgood, and Hachikō. My thinking will be forever different and I can’t ever unthink these thoughts that I now think. “So I guess this is goodbye,” Gloomy said, feeling a tightness in her barrel that made it difficult to breathe. She looked at the tunnel entrance and then back at her friends. She had given them as much water as they could carry. They were well supplied. The long dark awaited. Much to Gloomy’s surprise, Picklesworth came over and hugged her. She embraced him back, the tightness in her barrel increasing to the point where she felt like some terrible invisible force was squishing her. When she pulled away, she looked him in the eye for a moment, trying to commit his face to memory. “You have my address in Ponyville… send me a letter and I’ll write back, okay?” Gloomy said to the dour earth pony. She looked over at Gleamgood and saw him coming closer, no doubt for a hug. “Both of you, write to me. I’ll write back, I promise.” She offered no resistance when Gleamgood pulled her into a hug. She squeezed him without reservation, glad to know him, glad to have him in her life, even if it was for a short time. She pulled away, looked into his eyes just as she had done with Picklesworth, and was struck with a case of the sniffles. As she sat there, her barrel hitching, she felt herself picked up by two strong paws. She didn’t panic, she felt one paw slide down her back and under her backside to support her spine so she wouldn’t be hurt as she was lifted. She found herself cradled in Hachikō’s forelegs. She looked up into his face, not caring that he was a diamond dog. He was her friend. Reaching up with a front hoof, she stroked his face and as she did so, her face sprung a leak. “Goodbye, Gloomy,” Gleamgood said to the pegasus that was now his friend. “We must be going. We have a long uphill journey ahead of us.” “Yes, goodbye,” Picklesworth echoed. Hachikō placed Gloomy back down upon the ground, setting her down upon her hooves, and then patted her upon the back. “You will find purpose on the road, little one. Perhaps you too, shall find the way of the bushido.” “Ya think so?” Gloomy asked. “Yes, I do,” Hachikō replied, nodding as he spoke. Gloomy looked over at her saddlebags. It was time to go. There was no sense in prolonging this and making it worse. She sniffled a bit and wiped her streaming eyes with her foreleg. She looked over at her friends and knew that she would miss them. She was also hopeful that she would see them again. Standing there, Gloomy watched as they prepared to go, hitching up, and making ready to leave. Tears dribbled down to the dirt and splashed around her front hooves. Gloomy, true to her cutie mark, had a knack for making it rain. She smiled, wanting her friends to have a fond memory of her happy face, and she was determined to give it to them. Once again, Gloomy felt the tug of some great invisible wind upon her wings and her soul. It was time to go. Flight was a magical thing and it put all of her walking into perspective. In the span of an hour she could cover the same distance that it took all day to walk. Flight was effortless, or at least it felt that way, and if you got worn out, you could land or find a cloud to rest upon. She headed east, making her way along the base of the mountains, enjoying the view, and keeping an eye on her surroundings. She was now alone and she felt it—there was now a keen sensation of loneliness. She missed her friends already. The wind seemed to agree with her direction and she had the wind against her backside, encouraging her to keep going. The tail wind practically pushed her along towards the eastern horizon. All she had to do was keep her wings out and trimmed. A dragon flew on the edges of her vision for a while, a massive beast that had to be at least a hundred feet long, but it caused her no trouble. The dragon veered off after a while, heading north, flying into the mountains. Gloomy was glad to have witnessed the majestic creature in flight, and thankful that the dragon had not seen her as a meal. They had shared the same tailwind together and had coexisted in peace. There were farms down below, nestled in the patches of forest. Lumber camps could be seen peeking out from the trees. Somepony was laying railroad tracks. Soon, this vast wilderness would be gone, cleared away, the trees thinned out, replaced with farms, lumber mills, little hamlets, and trading posts. Gloomy realised that she was seeing the price of progress. This was an ideal place. The meltwater coming down off of the mountains made for endless streams, creeks, and would provide sources of precious water for irrigation. The ground was green and lush. It was land, wild and free, a land in need of taming. Looking below, Gloomy realised that everything she saw down there might one day be a teeming metropolis like Manehattan. She felt unsettled by the thought. While progress happened, one could not stop progress, surely some of the wilderness would be left, right? As she contemplated this conundrum, a lone flying figure approached unnoticed. Gloomy was in fact, quite startled to see Warden Wormwood, something made all the more interesting because he was out in the daylight. He was wearing protective goggles and there was a bandage around his neck. A tree branch had been sticking out of him the last time they had spoken. She pawed the ground, feeling nervous, and her heart fluttered in her chest. Something about him scared her, and Gloomy liked the feeling of fear. The shivery feeling running up and down her spine felt good. Gloomy had no idea that she was a prey animal responding to a predator. “Warden,” Gloomy said as she shrugged off her saddlebags, glad for a rest. “Miss August,” Wormwood replied, giving the pegasus a nod. “Please, call me Wormwood.” Standing there, Gloomy felt odd… she felt exposed being near Wormwood in the daylight. She shuffled on her hooves, wondering if Wormwood was looking at her through his darkened goggles. It was impossible to tell. She saw sunlight glinting on his marble-white fangs and could not help but feel that he was handsome in his own way. “So, Wormwood, what is it about me that interests you?” Gloomy blinked, unaware that there was a coy grin upon her muzzle. “Shouldn’t you be looking after all those refugees?” Wormwood, looking serious and stern, let out a soft growl as he cleared his throat. “The Night Lady sent me north to investigate reports of manticore sightings. Many of the refugees have fled north after the storm. We don’t want any incidents.” “And you just so happened to find me?” Gloomy asked. “Well, you do have that black bobby helmet,” Wormwood replied. That was a good answer. Gloomy nodded and took off her helmet. She set it down upon her saddlebags. She took a step closer to Wormwood, hoping to get a better look at him. He had scales and something about him was most certainly reptilian. His wings were bat-like, dragon-like, and she could see that his hooves had scary looking serrated edges, like a saw. “Most of your kind are afraid of my kind,” Wormwood said to Gloomy as she drew closer. The warden sniffed as Gloomy came closer, and he lowered his head to get a better look at her. Gloomy was afraid, the shivery feeling made her whole body tingle, but her curiousity was stronger than her fear. She raised her head and looked into Wormwood’s goggles, hoping to see some trace of his eyes, slitted though they might be. “What are you?” Gloomy asked, hoping that she wasn’t being rude. “I’m a pegasus, like you,” Wormwood replied. “No, you’re not.” Gloomy shook her head. “You’re not like me at all. What are you really? You can tell me… I won’t run away. I am a very brave little pegasus. I even made friends with a diamond dog.” “I know,” Wormwood replied. “You know that I’m a brave pegasus or that I made friends with a diamond dog?” Gloomy blinked, but was unaware that she was batting her eyelashes at Warden Wormwood. “Are you watching me, Wormwood?” “I’m a pegasus.” Wormwood spread his wings, revealing his almost transparent membranes. “A long time ago, the common pegasus was bred with dragons and drakes. Equestria had enemies and we needed better soldiers. The Royal Pony Sisters started a breeding program, a program that continues even now.” “Neat.” Gloomy’s voice sounded breathless and she trembled as she made her reply. “So, uh, if you don’t mind me asking, were you born or were you hatched?” “I was hatched from an egg,” Wormwood admitted to Gloomy. “But our kind has live birth too. It just depends. We still breed with drakes and smaller dragons to keep our blood infused with draconic might”—Wormwood paused for a moment and smiled—“but we also breed with common pegasi.” “Wormy?” Gloomy offered up a fetching smile. “Do you mind if I call you ‘Wormy?’” Gloomy took another step closer. “Would it be reasonable to assume that you are looking for a pegasus you can get to know?” “I might be,” Wormwood replied. Reaching out with his wing, he loosened the strap of his helmet with his clawed thumb that protruded from his central knuckle. The buckle popped loose and the strap dangled down. “It’s complicated.” “How is it complicated?” Gloomy asked. “It’s complicated, because I’m looking, but I can’t act upon it right away.” “Oh. I see. That does sound complicated.” Gloomy sniffed as she got a little closer. Wormwood smelled different. He didn’t smell like a pony. For one thing, he had carnivore breath. Yuck! “I offered ten years of my life to the Night Lady. She comes first. I have to complete my service to her before I can begin the service to my own kind.” Wormwood watched as Gloomy stood sniffing him, her small, delicate nostrils flaring. “Service to your own kind?” Gloomy stopped her sniffing and looked up. Wormwood’s muzzle was inches away from her own. “I have to continue my species,” Wormwood replied in a low voice. “And I have to find a pegasus mare worthy of my attention. She has to be extraordinarily brave… otherwise, I don’t have much of a chance to get to know her if she runs away from me. All of my hopes will be dashed.” “Must be difficult.” Gloomy nodded her head and felt a warm flush spreading out from her dock. Something about the way that Wormwood smelled excited her. He was smoky and spicy and had a mouth watering scent. As she stood there, smoke curled up from his nostrils, actual smoke. She wondered if he had a belly full of fire. She wondered how warm his tummy might be if she touched it. “So, uh, how many years do you have left, Wormy?” “Five.” Wormwood’s ears perked inside of his helmet. “So this mare you hope to find, she’d have to wait?” Gloomy clucked her tongue. “That’s asking a lot of a mare, Wormy. Especially if she might lay eggs. I’d imagine that would be uncomfortable. That’s a lot to ask of a mare to squeeze out of her bum bum.” Chuckling, his armor clanking, Wormwood shook his head. “Regular pegasi mares give birth to live young when bred with the stallions of my kind.” “That’s kinda reassuring, Wormy.” Gloomy sniffed again, smelling smoke, and the scent of Wormwood made her want to sneeze, even though her mouth watered. Gloomy wasn’t sure about Wormwood’s intentions. Was he checking her out or hunting her? He was big enough to gobble her right up. The thought made her loins clench in the most delightful way. “Five more years, huh? A lot can happen in five years, Wormy.” “Yes it can.” Reaching up with her front hoof, she booped Wormwood on the snoot, once, twice, thrice, and then a fourth time. Each touch made her shiver and she smiled. She had no real plans for the next five years and it might be nice to get to know somepony without any pressure. “Gloomy…” “Yeah, Wormy?” “Might I ask you a favour?” “Sure, Wormy, ask away.” “The daylight is very taxing on me. Do you think you could watch over me while I sleep? I could return the favour and watch over you in the night. There’s a manticore about. I would hate for things to end before they had a chance to begin.” “Oh, I could do that…” Gloomy nodded. “Thank you, Gloomy.” “Eh, no problem, Wormy. Are you sure about the egg thing? ‘Cause that’s a bit of a worry…”