//------------------------------// // Chapter One — A New Pen-Pal // Story: Correspondence // by Bluegrass Brooke //------------------------------// Daily routines might suit those chained to the slave master of “efficiency,” but Rainbow Dash preferred to let life catch her off guard.  However, there was still one routine she insisted upon—her evening Daring Do re-read with Tank. Just as she started towards the couch, the mail flap opened and a few letters drifted lazily onto the cloud. Rainbow darted over to collect them, paging through the envelopes. Junk . . . junk . . . bills . . . junk . . . Hello, what’s this? Rainbow held up the cream envelope addressed to her in nearly flawless writing that could only have come from a unicorn. Huh? Her mind flashed back to nearly a month previously. Could it be? Well, there was only one way of finding out. Trotting over to the couch, she settled down beside Tank, then, with her usual lack of ceremony, tore open the envelope. The heavy, cologne-laced stationary resembled one of Twilight’s official documents. A quick glance at the first words quickly dispelled that idea. Trenderhoof? Rainbow felt her heart skip a beat as she ran a hoof across the parchment. “He wrote back,” she breathed, then snorted a laugh. “He seriously wrote back! Wow!” Wow . . . The laughter tripped in her throat, forming a tight knot. Ponies often joked about becoming ‘pen-pals,’ but they never committed to it. Not like this . . . Her hoof ran over the opener, ‘To my new friend,’ We only talked for a few hours. And yet, it felt genuinely moving to have somepony outside their circle call her that. Tank nudged the book beside her pleadingly. Rainbow placed the novel back onto the endtable. Then, she pat the tortoise's head gently.  “Not now, Tank.” As if in understanding, he curled up in his ‘I’ll wait for you’ position. Satisfied, Rainbow turned to the letter.  “Sheesh!” Loopy lavender writing covered the entire front and back of the parchment. What’s all this writing for anyway? Taking the letter firmly in her hooves, she prepared herself for what would likely be a very boring read. After all, it stood to reason that a fashion author wouldn’t have anything remotely interesting to write about. Sighing, she read out loud, more to bolster her resolve than anything else. “‘Rainbow Dash, I hope this letter finds you well. It is my sin-sincerest desire that it raises your spirits inso-insomuch as a letter from a friend may.’” Rainbow stared at the words for a good long minute before finally giving up and grabbing the dictionary. As she glanced down at the rest of his letter, she could not help but think it would come in handy. “‘At first, I considered re-recounting my latest discoveries to you. But, upon further meditation, I realized how dreadfully mundane you would find those accounts to be.’” Trend’s words left her gaping like a goldfish out of water. How could a flaky fashion-obsessed stallion write so much like an egghead? Though she wanted to stop before she got a headache, she could not admit defeat to a piece of paper. So she read on, squinting a little to decipher his artistic magic-writing. “‘Well, what to write? That became the question. I knew from our previous conversation that you took no pleasure in fashion or in the latest trends.’” “Darn right I don’t,” Rainbow huffed. The last time she showed the remotest interest in an outfit, Rarity had talked her ear off for two hours. Never again.  “‘And then I realized I had been acting like an imbecile the whole time. It’s like my Dad used to say, “Sometimes the most meaningful story is the one that comes easiest to you.” So, I decided to share a little of my travels with you. I hope you garner some entertainment despite having traveled a great deal yourself . . .’” What in Equestria is ‘entertaining’ about this? Rainbow groaned, rubbing her eyes. Focus, focus. Almost done . . . well, kinda. “‘Well, the company had sent me on yet another wild-goose chase to the middle-of-nowhere Equestria. Such ventures are hardly unexpected in my line of work. This particular trip however has left me, for lack of a better word, spellbound . . .’” As she continued along, she become so engrossed in the words that she forgot all about reading to Tank. ‘Imagine for a moment a village so in-tune with nature it that it seems to have been hewn from the very trees upon which it was constructed. A place where time has no meaning. Instead, ponies use the rhythm of the seasons to keep a steady metronome. Armed with a compass, map, and a few supplies, I ventured there in search of that certain “spark” my employers continually trust me to find. I could only hope some wandering beast did not find me first . . .’ Rainbow froze, slowly lowering the paper and gaping at Tank. Then a small smile escaped from the corners of her mouth. “This is just like a Daring Do book!” Then, realizing she had shouted, she checked her enthusiasm. “I mean . . . it’s alright.” For the next half hour she read and re-read his account, soaking it up like any of her favorite novels. This stallion—though a hopeless dork—had a way with words just like Daring. However, his story felt undeniably real in a way that Daring’s novels, though fun, had never managed to achieve. It was as if she could smell the forest, feel the grass under her hooves and interacted with locals just like Trend. How he did it was beyond her, but she could not deny the power his words held. She did not just enjoy the rest of the letter, she loved it and almost screamed in frustration when she reached the end. The familiar, near-desperation for more overwhelmed her. “That can’t be it, Trend! What happened after you traveled back? How’d the article gooooo?” she moaned, clasping a hoof to her forehead. “Come on! You left me hanging.” She flailed on the couch for a good minute before eyeing the pen and paper by the endtable. Generally, she reserved it for writing notes on the weather team’s plans. Tonight she might just have to break them out for a different purpose. I’ve got to hear more . . . Once her own—far less polished letter had been finished, she searched for an envelope. Then froze. Wait . . . where do I send it? After a few minutes of searching, she found where his envelope had wandered off too. Sure enough it was scrawled into the lefthoof corner. There were quite a few more lines than return addresses normally had—the reason she had ignored it the first time around. ‘Senior Investigative Reporter - Trenderhoof Mares’ Monthly circ. Baltimare Headquarters 2987 West Willowbrook Drive Baltimare, Equestria 003’ “Weird.” Rainbow copied the address verbatim onto one of her own envelopes and a stamp. Good thing Twilight convinced her to keep an ‘emergency stash’ handy. Once she set down Trend’s envelope, she noted another smaller note poking out from the corner. She snatched it up, withdrawing a small note written onto the corner of a napkin of all things. ‘Blast, I forgot! The article I interviewed you for will be published next week. I’ve had one sent to your house. I hope you like it.’ That’s right. I almost forgot. Strange that she’d forget about getting publicity. Then again, Mares’ Monthly never appealed to her tastes. Wait a minute . . . Mares’ Monthly! Rarity’s favorite magazine. Great, how am I going to explain this one . . . Trenderhoof shuffled mechanically into the room. Had it really been two months since he last came here? As legalities went, the small studio apartment counted as his “home.” And yet, Trend never felt at home here. In fact, it never ceased to feel awkward, like a hotel that had managed to apprehend his personal belongings. He lit his horn, bathing the spartan furnishings in a lilac glow—it really would not be worth it to use electricity for a single night’s stay. Trend smiled at the dust-free map hanging on the wall. Spotless as always thanks in part to his dottery old housekeeper. Not that he ever left the place dirty, it just needed dusting every once and awhile. His ears perked up at the pile of mail resting on the bar. Thoughtful of her.  Legs still feeling last week’s hike, he staggered over to retrieve the mail. Junk . . . junk . . . bills. He grimaced at the insurance company’s emblem. Drat, thought I paid that. Just as he made to toss the pile back on the bar, he spotted a small teal envelope between two ads for beauty products. A closer examination revealed the sloppiest mouth writing he had the mispleasure to come across in a while. Though, to be fair, he generally worked only with his own writing. The letters took up far more space than was necessary as if the sender did not write on envelopes often. Once glance at the name on the return address indicated why. “Rainbow Dash?” He snorted a laugh, almost beside himself with excitement. “I didn’t think she’d reply!” With a flourish, he tossed the envelope on the bed. Though he wanted to read it right away, he had to get some of the residual grime off his coat. As much as it embarrassed him to admit, he constantly had to worry about his appearance. A model needed to protect his assets. One hour later, he came out of the shower. As usual, the forelock hairs clung obstinately to his coat, dripping stray water droplets onto his silk nightshirt. Once again, he found himself exceptionally grateful nopony lived with him. He loathed to think how his fans would react if they knew his characteristic “look” came at the expense of copious amounts of hairgel and years of styling expertise. He settled atop the comforter. With a satisfied click, he exchanged his overlarge white “work glasses” for the light-framed, comfortable home pair he kept in his suitcase. “Alright, Rainbow. Now that I’m presentable, let’s read what you’ve got to say.” Talking to myself again . . . Yet another reason to live alone, he mused. His attention turned to the letter at last. ‘Trend, I was really surprised to get your letter. I mean, like who writes pen-pal letters these days? So old fashioned!’ Trend felt his face heat up a bit. “So what? I think they’re fun! Got a problem with that?” ‘Still, it made me kinda happy. Like, how many times do I get letters in the mail? I think yours was the first since Dad wrote me at flight camp. It really did make me smile. Sheesh! You’re such an egghead. I didn’t think anypony wrote like that other than Twi maybe. I had to grab the dictionary.’ His laugh echoed around the empty room. “Seriously? You’re such a dork, Rainbow!” A dork who actually bothered to write back. How many ponies wrote back? He knew a few mares that did for a time, but they always gave up when they learned he wasn’t interested. He hoped Rainbow would be different. At the very least, she had not been impressed by his status as a famous model. Maybe, just maybe, she wanted to be a friend. He read on. ‘Your story was awesome by the way. Just like reading a Daring Do novel. Well, better actually! I was hooked.’ That made him blush for real. Nopony had ever said that about his prose. Every time he tried to submit a similar adventure piece to the magazine, it had been rejected. ‘Mares want fashion, not action! Get a job at a camping magazine if you want to sell that crap.’ But Rainbow—a mare and Element of Loyalty—had a blast reading it. That thought alone made him smile. He had enjoyed writing it just as much if not more than his fashion articles. ‘You left off at the good part though. What happened? Did the magazine publish your piece on the local music? Where did you go after?’ “Nowhere exciting.” He grimaced, remembering the eight hour train ride that had followed. “And they haven’t told me yet!” He frowned at the rest of the letter. So short! Blowing a strand of forelock out of his eyes, he took in the small drawing below her words. Though she obviously would not be winning any artistic awards, he found the picture of Rainbow and a tortoise to be a lot of fun. From the looks of it, they were in a dark forest. Rainbow was holding up a flower while the tortoise was—flying? What the heck, Rainbow? ‘Drew a little something for you since I can’t write like you can. Tank and I like to go to the Everfree sometimes. Dunno if you’ve seen it before, but it’s like a forest where everything went wild. The clouds move themselves and everything! We like to help pick flowers for Zecora sometimes.’ The Everfree? That sounds interesting. Wait. Who’s Zecora? “Guess I’ll have to ask her myself.” He flipped the page over to find some more words. The writing here looked more deliberate, as if Rainbow had contemplated each word. ‘So yeah, that’s that. As much fun as it is reading about your adventures, I figured it’s kinda rude just talking about that. So’ A few words were scratched out after that. ‘you wrote a lot about your trip. Is that normal for you or was that special? I think it’d be fun traveling around Equestria for work. Just between you and me, I don’t really like sticking around in one place. I stay, but that’s more because I have to, you know? Obligations are kinda a bummer.’ The sudden honesty caught him off-guard. They hardly knew each other, and here she was telling him something like that. Trend felt genuinely touched. ‘Do you like your work, Trend? It sounds like you do. I hope you do. I like mine a lot. Though, gotta be honest, I’d like to be flying a bit more than I am. Ever since I took on some management roles, it’s been  a lot of paperwork and politics. Blech. Anyway, I hope you have a good day and all that jazz. Look forward to your next letter, —Rainbow Dash’ Trend re-read her letter a few times before folding it neatly back into the envelope. Still smiling like an idiot, he lay down, falling into a deep sleep.