Twilight enjoyed Winter Wrap-Up, perhaps even more so now that she was a Princess. It seemed as if ponies were treating her merely with the deference due the chief organizer, as they had since her first success, and being a princess now mattered less to many of them, compared to most other days of the year.
It was still early in the day, so she found herself using her improved mobility, both wings and teleportation prowess, to move about town and attempt to recruit some stragglers who might, for one reason or another, not otherwise participate in wrapping up winter. Or at least she'd remind them not to be late.
She spotted Berry Punch and her daughter playing on the path leading to Landshark's smithy, which, similar to Fluttershy's home, was a little closer to the Everfree than most ponies liked. Both of them were bundled up against the cold, especially the filly.
Twilight couldn't help but giggle as she watched the earth pony and the unicorn throw a flying disc back and forth. By its slightly wobbly flight, the toy had probably seen better days. Both ponies seemed to aim more or less directly at one another. Evidently unconcerned with questions of dignity, the adult pony leapt up at the disc to catch it in her jaws like a dog. It actually seemed pretty impressive, Twilight had never known Berry Punch to have good reflexes.
She didn't really understand why Ruby Pinch seemed to wait until the last moment to snatch the disc with her magic, or why both of them threw the toy down after every catch instead of immediately returning it. It was nonetheless a cute scene, although if prompted, Twilight would have guessed that the unicorn filly was at an age where she might not have liked to be seen playing childish games.
She was pretty glad to have found these specific ponies. Twilight liked Berry Punch, the earth pony had been making an effort to treat Twilight like a neighbor instead of a princess. Of course, since Berry would occasionally claim to not deal well with authority, maybe that was best.
Berry was a strange pony, although Twilight supposed that wasn't saying much in a town like this. For a long time, she'd displayed very little confidence, and even now the other mare occasionally made a remark that hinted at a lack of self-worth. At the same time, Berry didn't shy away from contact the way Fluttershy did. She seemed to try and live herself into a new way of thinking. A cynical pony might say she was faking it, but it was better than just thinking about a better way of behaving.
"Good morning, you two! Having fun?" She alighted near Berry with a smile.
The earth pony had been about to throw the disc again, but instead put it down and nodded a greeting. "Morning, Twilight. Fun, and workin' on our reflexes." Ruby Pinch approached as well, seeing as the game had been put on hold.
"Great! I'm rounding up more ponies for Winter Wrap-Up, but since we met, there's something I wanted to ask Ruby Pinch." Twilight smiled at the smaller unicorn. "I don't suppose you've changed your mind about coming along whenever I tutor Dinky?"
It hardly counted as tutoring, really, since Twilight was too busy to make it a regular thing, but she did enjoy teaching the younger unicorns in Ponyville a little something every now and then. Pinchy and Dinky had initially participated together, until Berry's daughter had lost interest in attending.
Berry seemed surprised and frowned. "You've not been goin' along?" She worked her jaw for a moment, concern in her eyes. "S'not too hard, is it?"
Ruby Pinch had seemed like a pretty bright filly to Twilight – certainly there were children who didn't seem quite so clever. Still, Berry knew she hadn't been a great mother in the past and sometimes feared this might be to the long-term detriment of Pinchy, so her question wasn't wholly surprising.
However, the filly shook her head vigorously. "No, mommy." She lowered her head before continuing with a whine. "It's just sooo boooring."
Twilight hid a flinch and smiled awkwardly. Not all teaching approaches worked for all ponies, evidently. Before she could say anything, Berry spoke up again.
"So what'cha doing then?" The earth pony didn't seem about to scold her daughter for calling a Princess boring.
Pinchy shrugged. "Spike's got all sorts of cool comics. Nice way to pass the time."
"Heh, you like Spike, then?" Berry grinned.
Twilight knew that Berry was pretty fond of Spike. To a lot of ponies, he tended to be a bit invisible – just Twilight's little helper. But he'd treated Berry with respect, empathy and understanding when she had resolved to stop drinking alcohol, and the earth pony had been enormously thankful for it, because it hadn't been easy for her. Twilight was very, very proud of Spike. Being kind to Berry had probably also endeared him to Ruby.
"He's pretty cool," Pinchy allowed. "For a colt?" She seemed to hesitate briefly, maybe unsure if that was even the right term to use for a dragon. "I guess that's not saying much. Most of the others at school are annoying and say just any idiot thing that'll flit between their empty brains and their mouths. Tch. Spike's a good sort."
"Now, Pinchy," Berry scolded. "You know I don't want you to talk about ponies the way Bon does." She reached out to pull her daughter closer to her side. "She's earned it. You don't gotta think like that of ponies around you. Maybe they'll grow up bein' alright, no reason for them to recall you goin' around talking about them like that." She smiled. "It's okay to just say you're not fond of them."
"Okay." Pinchy nodded, apparently accepting the scolding with equanimity. "I'm sorry," she added.
It did seem like the sort of thing the grumpy candy maker might say. Bon Bon was pretty good at faking good cheer in public, or behind her cash register, and she really didn't begrudge anypony anything, but she had a cynical streak she apparently didn't hide in front of her friends.
"S'alright." Berry addressed Twilight again. "Sorry, can't force her to go if she doesn't like it."
"I'm sure I can change my approach!" She was mentally going through a list of works on didactic she could reread, and perhaps she should ask Cherilee for advice, the teacher had to know Ruby Pinch, after all. She leaned forward, lowered her head and tried to smile encouragingly at the filly. "Don't you want to learn more about magic?"
For some reason, Ruby Pinch shied away and pressed herself closer to her mother. Berry herself shifted her weight, extended a hoof and gently, but firmly pressed it against Twilight's chest until the Princess was back in her normal sitting posture. "Watch that slasher smile, Twilight," the earth pony requested calmly.
Well, it was true that some ponies claimed that Twilight's smile wasn't particularly appealing when things weren't going her way. She didn't much care for the term Berry had used, but it was probably best not to make anything of it. The mare was only looking out for her child.
"It's okay, anyway," Pinchy spoke up softly. "Dinky catches me up on the interesting bits, anyway. Like the difference between mindbullets and stun blasts."
Twilight's train of thought crashed to a halt at hearing those terms. "You mean arcanokinetic attacks and mana-scrambling spells?"
"That's what I said," Pinchy claimed seriously, looking up at her mother. "They look kinda similar, but the first is like hitting somepony really really hard, just at range, and the second, well, everypony has magic in them. You give that a hard enough jolt, they might pass out while the magic lines itself up right again. Doesn't do anything to stuff without magic."
Apparently Dinky had at least relayed the bare basics, but there was so much more fascinating knowledge to be shared beyond the mere ability to just use those types of magic! Berry seemed happy with the explanation, however. "Well, it's good you're teaching 'em something practical, Twilight. And Dinky doesn't mind having to teach you, Pinchy?" The earth pony did seem just a little dubious about that, Twilight thought.
"No," Pinchy dismissed the idea with a shake of her head. "She understands. Besides, we're a team, we share almost everything. The other day I won twenty bits and of course Dinky got half of it."
"You won money? How?" Berry looked confused, and Twilight was similarly curious.
"Uh, well," Pinchy seemed embarrassed. "We, well, we sort of taught Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon how to play poker. DT isn't real good at it, but Silver Spoon picked it up pretty well." The little pony scratched her head. "The crusaders said there might be a cutie mark in there, but that's silly. Who'd play with you if your special talent was cards? That's hardly fair. You'd have to find other ponies who are really good at card games too."
"And you're playing for money?" It didn't sound as though Berry was particularly happy with that development, but she still allowed her daughter to explain.
"Calculated risk," Pinchy mumbled. "DT hasn't been real mean in a while, so losing some bits to her once would have been okay. Instead, she's the one losing money, either to me or Silver."
"Hrmm." Berry produced a rumbling sort of growl, but eventually sighed. "Ruby Pinch. I want you to be careful with money." She locked eyes with her daughter, sounding serious. "Seen ponies get too into gamblin', always losin' and always figurin' they can win it all back if they just keep at it, borrowin' money from the wrong types ..."
The earth pony shrugged. "Might be, before your time, the wrong types hired me a time or two to tell those ponies how impatient they were about getting their bits back." She offered a crooked grin to Twilight, as if daring her to interrupt. "Anyway. If you end up getting unlucky, you're not touchin' your savings to keep playing. I'll tell our friends, too. And if Mr. Rich or Silver Spoon's folks take issue, you're going to stop. You're getting to be a big pony, but them's the rules. We clear?"
Berry had once described herself as a former thug in a conversation with Twilight, so it wasn't entirely surprising to hear that the mare might have been hired as some manner of threatening debt collector in the past. At least she seemed to be responsible about money herself.
"Okay, mom," Pinchy said quietly. "Thanks for not making me stop. I'll be careful. I'll keep you up to date, if you want."
The ponies involved seemed a little young to be engaging in social gambling to Twilight, but she supposed it wasn't really her business. At least poker probably wouldn't cause massive property damage or injuries.
"Good. I trust you, Pinchy, I just never much liked gambling myself. No reason to stop on my account, though." Berry shook her head and snickered at Twilight. "They grow up fast, huh? Anyway, thanks again for teaching Dinky, and I guess Pinchy, some practical spells. I don't want 'em to pick fights, but sometimes you gotta end one, right? S'why we've been practicing this!" She stepped on their flying disc toy.
"Well, maybe I should have consulted you and Ditzy, but I made the judgement call. Your daughters seemed responsible enough for those sorts of spells, although to be fair, they're probably not strong enough yet to knock a target out with a single scrambling spell." She tilted her head. "But would you mind explaining the disc thing, then?" She couldn't quite see what it had to do with self defense.
"Well," Berry tapped her hoof on the toy. "Most ponies, when something comes at them fast, they shy or duck away. That's fair enough. Reasonable, in fact. But what if it's a pegasus? Maybe you wanna have a go at them, instead." She gave Twilight a searching look. "Maybe you wanna help demonstrate?"
"I'm not going to attack you!"
"Course not. But everypony knows you solve just about every problem with magic, so I thought maybe you could summon up some sock puppets or somethin' for me to play with. Action figures, whatever."
Well, some basic image projection wasn't particularly uncommon as an aid in giving instructions – at least not in academic settings. Twilight just honestly hadn't expected it to be what Berry was asking about. She concentrated and summoned up a small, flickering image of an earth pony, with a pegasus circling above. "Something like this?"
"Yeah, that's great." Berry pointed at the pegasus and apparently tried to affect a lecturing tone. "A'ight, so for some reason you've got yourself a fight with a pegasus. Now, if they got a primed cloud, you better just hoof it and look for some cover. Or try and blast 'em, I suppose." She shook her head, probably not used to thinking as a unicorn. "But I'm told they can be tough to hit."
"Now," Berry continued, "first step is to try and make eye contact. Pegasi, any flier with authority, really, when they look down at you, they expect you to scurry and run. They can't stand it when that doesn't happen. So you just stand and give them the evil eye. Really riles em up."
Twilight wasn't really comfortable with these alleged pegasus facts Berry was sharing, but she didn't want to rebuke the mare in front of her child, so she held her tongue.
"So, if they take the bait, they might try and swoop down at you. If they just get into a regular old fight with you, well, that's okay. But some will just try to hit you in the head in a fly-by." Berry grunted and waved a hoof through the image of the pegasus. "C'mon, gimme a flyby."
"Right, sorry." Twilight adjusted the pictures, moving the pegasus image into an attack run. She paused it near the point of contact.
"That's where the training comes in. You gotta keep your nerve and manage to grab hold of 'em as they pass." Berry noisily chomped her teeth together. "Magic's good, but if I manage to catch 'em by a fetlock, I might be able to break it. Depends on how skinny they're in the legs. Once you catch 'em, slam 'em into the ground. Takes a real good flier to not crash with a sudden pony hanging of their legs, anyway. That's your opportunity to bail, hopefully. Run and hide somewhere they can't get you from above."
That just seemed foolhardly to Twilight, and her brother had never mentioned that sort of move from his time in training. Maybe it had worked alright against whoever Berry had gotten into fights with in her youth, and it apparently had worked against at least one changeling, once.
"What if you can't get away, though?" Pinchy had listened with rapt attention, but she seemed hesitant to ask the question. "Flying's still faster than running."
"Yeah. If that's the case, you might have to ground 'em for longer." Berry motioned at the little holograms again. "Gotta be quick about it, see? After they crash, you grab hold of a wing, close to the body, brace yourself against them, and pull as hard as you can. That'll dislocate the wing, maybe tear a muscle. Then they won't be coming after you. But it's easier said than done," she added.
"And you've got to be sure about it," Berry cautioned, almost as an afterthought. "It'll hurt the other guy a lot longer than one of your stun spells."
Berry Punch was generally an affable sort of pony, at least she had been for the past year, but it was comments like this that reminded Twilight of darker moments.
When Berry and her friends had fought and captured some changelings near Ponyville, the earth pony had ruthlessly crippled them, taking a hammer to the horns of their captives to keep them from using magic or communicate in secret. One of them had been missing a wing, as well. She'd later looked at Twilight and called it a citizen's arrest. And no point had Twilight detected signs of remorse.
Ponies weren't normally supposed to be this indifferent about hurting others. Frankly, many ponies didn't have it in them to put up much of a fight in the first place, because Equestria was, by and large, very peaceful. Twilight would have felt better if at least Berry had tried to justify her actions with mistrust or hatred for changelings. But no, Berry didn't seem to see them as anything but another sort of pony, or at least, sapient being. They had just happened to be ones that got on her bad side, at the time.
Twilight reasoned that 'us or them' choices weren't choices at all for the earth pony, because in any kind of serious life or death conflict, the choice might as well be spelled 'do I, or do I not want to go home to my daughter'? And if you spelled it like that, it really didn't require any soul-searching at all. Still, most ponies might have felt a little bad about the situation, or hesitated. Berry evidently hadn't.
The earth pony was waving her hoof through the tiny images Twilight was projecting again. "Hey, you listening to me?"
Twilight stopped sustaining the projection. She didn't much feel like displaying one pony doing grievous bodily harm to another. "This is what you've been teaching your daughter?"
She hadn't planned for it to sound like an accusation, and to the earth pony's credit, Berry just regarded her evenly as she responded. "Yes. I'm spending time with my daughter and teaching her what I know."
Sure, it wasn't really too different from teaching fillies their first self-defense spells. Just nastier. Maybe that was a vestige of her Canterlot upbringing talking.
Ruby Pinch hadn't said anything, but she did look hurt by the comment before averting her eyes. Dinky might have said something, she was the feistier of the two, in Twilight's opinion. In any case, she'd probably just damaged the chances of Pinchy changing her mind about showing up for magic lessons, at least in the near future. Probably best to cut her losses now.
"Well, I'd best get going. Don't forget to join one of the teams!"
"Sure," Berry agreed. "C'mon Pinchy, let's see if we can help wake up the critters."
Winter Wrap-Up seemed like the most ridiculous pony holiday yet. The Running of the Leaves had seemed similarly silly, because Landshark was pretty sure those leaves were going to fall off the trees in their own good time, but what she'd heard of the Wrap-Up indicated a whole lot of weird micromanagement of the environment.
She could appreciate the fact that local tradition dictated that it all be done with minimal magic, of course, and there were understandable, practical tasks like readying the fields and planting the first seeds, but did animals really need this much babysitting?
With a mental shrug, Landshark chalked it up to being a weird way to celebrate the coming of spring. Birds probably knew how to build their own nests, but if the whole thing fostered the local sense of community, that was a decent enough excuse.
Her workers had all stayed home, or presumably, were going to help out with the holiday. Therefore, the forge had remained cold. Lyra had visited unusually early in the day, probably woken up by Bon Bon's habitual early rising. It wasn't totally clear why, as usually, Lyra would just stay in bed. She didn't often have anywhere to be, early in the day.
Landshark was drawing up plans for a new chest or locker for her most important belongings. After all, with unicorns able to imbue mundane materials with magic, she'd be able to design a very durable container indeed. Hopefully, anyway. At least the fittings for one.
Lyra had no particularly useful input other than the assurance that she'd supply the magic at the proper time. She was pleasant company regardless. Right then, she was holding Landshark's revolver in her magic grip. The construct had made sure it was unloaded. Still, since Landshark could now reload her own ammunition, Lyra had started taking an interest in the guns, perhaps assuming that the reduced scarcity meant she'd get to try and fire them herself sometime.
Privately Landshark didn't think much of her locally produced rounds. Black powder left more residue in the gun and having to recycle primers via matchstick heads was extremely tedious, made worse by her awareness of how cheap the proper components were in bulk, back in the human world. Still, she remained grateful to Dinky for figuring that trick out.
It was good to be able to fire off a few rounds now and then, for old times' sake. She still didn't use any of the real bullets for recreational purposes, though. She didn't doubt that proper smokeless powder was achievable, she was just held back by her refusal to ask anyone connected to the government for help figuring it out. She didn't dare think of the expense of trying to machine new brass cases with a lathe, which she didn't own, but so far she'd been able to reclaim spent casings.
Lyra was apparently practicing twirling the gun around her illusory finger. It was a small comfort to Landshark that she likely held the gun securely in her telekinetic grip and wasn't actually spinning it around by the trigger guard. "Trying to break every rule of gun safety at once, are we? Please never do that with a loaded gun."
Lyra grinned, but nodded minutely.
"I was born, six-gun in my hand~ Behind a gun, I'll make my final stand~"
"Pretty sure you weren't born with a gun, nor hands."
Lyra huffed as she returned the gun to Landshark's desk. "Oh yeah? I got the song from you, and you weren't even born, and you didn't have a gun then, either."
Landshark made a show of considering the point, tapping a finger against her chin and humming thoughtfully. "You know, I think you're being more pedantic than me, just now."
"Don't try to flatter me! Maybe we should get somepony else to arbitrate this dispute." Lyra snickered before retrieving some muffins from her saddlebags. "Hm, now that's breakfast. I hope Ditzy and Dinky are having a good time."
"Still don't see why the birds need escorting, but sure, probably a decent mother-daughter trip." Carrying a younger pony on her back didn't do much to slow the mailmare down, anyway. Ditzy wasn't fast, flashy, or graceful, but she was a load-bearing sort of pegasus.
"Me neither," Lyra admitted. "Just tradition, I guess. But Ditzy's suited to it, so long as she doesn't get turned around. I mean, a strong pegasus like Rainbow Dash just plows through the sky, easy as that. Ditzy's a sensitive sort of flyer." She grimaced. "She won't lead those birds into any kind of turbulence they can't handle. And I never heard of Ditzy screwing up a landing while she had Dinky along."
There was a knock at the door before Landshark could comment. "Come back tomorrow, we're closed for today!" Sure, she could technically take an order down and get started on it tomorrow, but she didn't want to have a reputation for being willing to talk business outside of business hours.
The knocking repeated. "It's me, Twilight!"
Landshark simulated a sigh. "Lyra, if you would?"
Nodding her understanding, the unicorn reached across the room with her magic and turned the key still in the lock to open the door, admitting Twilight to the room. "Busted. So much for hiding from work."
"Good morning!" Twilight exchanged a quick, awkward look with Lyra. Landshark assumed her friend had been putting off reconciling with Twilight. The Princess was about to turn to face the construct when she shivered. "Aren't you cold in here?" There was no other source of heating but the forge, which wasn't lit.
"Bit nippy, maybe," Lyra allowed. "I got some northern blood on my mom's side, I can deal." She had worn a scarf and a knit hat when she'd arrived, but taken them off, although the building mostly just provided protection from wind, not so much from cold.
Landshark wasn't actually sure if that was true or if Lyra just wanted to bring up a fact Twilight would have been aware of if she had been more than a reclusive acquaintance, back during their Canterlot years.
"Oh, okay." Twilight rallied and turned to Landshark. "I came by to invite you to participate in Winter Wrap-Up!"
"Why?"
"Well, it's a local tradition, and you're a local now!" Credit where it was due, she hadn't even missed a beat in coming up with an answer that would be hard for Landshark to weasel out of. After all, she liked to belong. "Unless you're doing something really important?"
"Just playing around with plans for a more secure locker or chest. Enchanted for durability. I hope I can buy locks that a unicorn can't just reach into with magic to pop them open?" She tilted her head.
"Oh, sure, warded locks are practically standard up in Canterlot," Twilight nodded. "Not cheap, and you can still try your luck with mundane lockpicks, but I suppose the upper crust is more concerned with snooping peers than with experienced burglars."
Well, perfect security was rarely doable, but the more time consuming it was to get around, the more people were discouraged from trying. "Cool. I'll have to look into it. If I get a sufficiently secure container, I won't feel bad about booby-trapping it." She snapped her jaws.
Twilight just groaned. "It's been nearly a year. You still expect somepony to come along and steal your stuff?"
"Twilight. Come on now." Landshark shook her head. "I hope one of these days Celestia is going to teach you that the mere passage of time is no excuse to grow lax in your virtues. I expect Equestria would look a lot different if she didn't know that."
The princess rolled her eyes. "Nice try, would have worked better if you hadn't implied that paranoia is a virtue."
"I'm being conscientious. That's generally a good thing, especially when storing weapons."
"That doesn't excuse traps, though," Twilight claimed.
"I'd be trapping a pretty secure container, so only very dedicated thieves would be at risk. I expect professionals to be aware, and accepting, of the risks involved in their craft." Landshark shrugged. "And my weapons are still unique, as far as I know."
She had a pretty decent idea of how to build a basic break-open shotgun, but then she'd be dealing with the case and primer problem again. Maybe she could order something to specification, or buy more complicated tools, she'd have to figure something out. She wasn't keen on the idea of actually teaching anyone but her friends how cartridge firearms or their ammunition were put together, after all.
She got up and locked up the revolver Lyra had been playing with away. "Anyway. I'm going to lock up and then see what I can do. May as well learn a new skill. Building bird nests! You in, Lyra?"
"Excellent!" Twilight seemed happy about it. Landshark was glad that she seemed to have grown resistant to the construct's low intensity teasing. After all, it meant Landshark didn't have to feel self-conscious about taking cheap shots.
"Yeah, sure." Lyra put on her scarf and hat again. "Might as well practice hand-eye coordination that way, eh? Eh?"
"Yeah yeah. Now get going so I can close up the shop."
"What's with the hands, anyway?" Twilight tried to make conversation as the two ponies left the building.
"Fun to be good at something, even if it's silly." Lyra almost sounded defiant. "Rarity's got crazy multi-tasking, you got spells and power, I guess Trixie has cool effects, I got coordination. Not easy to make it look natural, you know?"
Lyra was using the same sort of telekinesis all unicorns had. She just overlaid visual effects. Trixie had, so far, displayed the best understanding of the difficulty in making it look good. It was, after all, for show.
"I see." Twilight's statement wasn't very convincing, but apparently she'd decided not to push the issue. She didn't seem like the type for odd personal affectations anyway. Maybe it seemed like a waste of energy to her. After all, this was the town which had some initial difficulty with the concept of a stage persona, or stage magic. "Well, I'd best be going. You two have fun."
"Sure. Building bird nests. It'll be thrilling."
"So what, you just came around my place so early to try and dodge the holiday?"
"Yes! I was feeling lazy." Lyra sighed. "But fine, let's hop to it. At least the company's good. Better that than pulling a plow."