Chapter 1
The air was still crisp and the sky was clear for miles. It was going on ten in the morning, but the desert air still clung to its nightly chill for every fiber of its worth. At least it did from the altitude I was at. The harsh dirt that stretched at least a hundred feet below me was no doubt preheating to its noon day scorching temperatures, but for me? Well, that's what the jacket was for.
My name is 'Winding Roads', but most folk call me 'Windy', and ever since I was a filly I felt most at home up here in the sky. Everyday, I thanked the Creator that I took after Daddy in the flying likenesses. Now, I know I'd of found happiness either way, but knowing what this was like, it would make it hard to have anything else. Fate, it seemed agreed, if my mark of wisps of blue wind, blowing desert flower petals had anything to say about it. True, it wasn't all cloud pies and kitty whiskers; flown through my fair shake of clouds so black and winds so tough, I thought they would take my very beating heart and spit me out. Yeah, it had its risks, but days like today are a little slice of heaven.
Banking right, I put the sun to my back and pull a cork screw roll heading down; nothing crazy, just enough to get the blood pumping. My old friend, windspeed, tries to play keep away with my hat, but the sured up stampede strap on my battered ridgetop holds tight; doesn't mean he won't keep trying though. The rays of Princess Celestia's namesake flicker behind me for the briefest of moments and that's enough for me to know that windspeed brought another friend to play.
A sharp mid air twist on my part, and it's just a hair's breadth between me and the newcomer to this once picturesque setting.
"Almost didn't see me comin'." Comes a voice full of playful intent, underlying no small amount of bravado.
I right myself, and rear about to meet that snide face I knew all to well; 'Cross Roads' is his name, and he is none other than my own twin brother. Ironically though, he is a perfect mirror image of me, and by that I mean he is a perfect opposite. Cross has a rusty red coat to my creamy light brown. Where as his shorter mane and tail are a creamy light brown to my long rusty red. Perched on his head sits a dark brown pinch front cow pony hat. A wool lined vest hugs his barrel ending with a winged wagon wheel adorning his flank.
The differences stops with his eyes. They share my own deep apple red, something we both got from Momma. Between his grinning teeth is his latest tooth pick, which I would scarcely recognize him without. He moves it to the opposite side of his mouth as he regards me again with that condescending smugness I know, and love him for.
"Windy, dear sister, perhaps yah should leave the scoutin' to me." He says smirking at me, he moves from a hover and attempts to circle me; an act which I pay in kind. "Hate tah say it, but you've been moving a little slower these days."
I narrow my gaze at him, knowing he is only funning me, but still trying to hide a blush from creeping onto my face. "That would still make me faster than you, Cross." I snort imperiously at him.
"Ohoho really?" He chortles at me, the smell of an unspoken challenge hangs thick in the air. In anticipation we begin moving forward again, weaving in and out of each other's contrails. "Care tah put that to the test?" He says leveling the brim of his hat at me.
"Sure," I say, casually admiring my hoof, "I could use a laugh watching you lose to me again."
The gauntlet, officially cast down, the challenge accepted; we level off and begin eying for a suitable marker. A lone tree in the distance seems fitting enough, and true to our bond, he spots it too, wordlessly approving with a nod. We brace up. I pump my wings, ready, waiting, dare say: itching for the thrill of the race.
"Ready?" He chirps, lowering his head.
"Set?" I return, coiling up, ready to bolt at that magic two letter word that's coming.
"G-!" Our synchronized start is halted from a chiding shout below.
"Winding! Cross! You two quit that grab flankery, and do your jobs!"
Inching its way through the canyon below comes a mismatched wooden caterpillar; our latest caravan line. Seventeen little white topped wagons being pulled by various Earth pony's, oxen and mule folk mixed in for good measure. The little procession slowly makes its way through the barren expanse of the dry Moojave Badlands.
At the head of the line is none other then the fearless Wagon Mistress herself: Greening Roads. Head proprietor of the Roads Family Caravan Company, hardest Apple filly frontier's pony since the settling of the homestead out on the Everfree, and...our mother, who is looking fit to stuff a mattress with us at the moment.
"You'd think she'd stop treatin' us like foals by now." Cross mumbles under his breath only for it to be caught by the deft ears of motherly instinct.
"Then stop acting like one." Momma says glaring at her first born (only by two minutes.) "Get on down here, both of yah!" She says, her tone leaving no room argument so we oblige quickly. She may have been an Earth pony, but she was a patient mare, leading us to believe at an early age that she and Daddy had more kids before us, but they were too scared to come back down.
Moments after we touch down, Momma gave us the rundown as we walk along her sides. "Make sure your telling everypony to stay hydrated, it only gonna git hotter out here." She says, wiping the sweat from beneath the brim of her own cowpony hat before continuing, "Also Wagon number four is having trouble with their front left axel, Cross head on over."
"Again?" My brother growls, more then a little bit annoyance in his voice. "I told them that if they were gonna skimp on their wagon repairs that they would be responsible for it." He said with a huff.
"Even so, it's our duty to look after them sorry tenderhoof's." Momma says, tipping her hat back regarding the sky with her own pair of deep ruby eyes. "Feel free to remind 'em of that." She added, motioning behind her to the line. Glancing back, the fourth wagon's uneven lurching stands out like a sore hoof from the uniform rolling of the the other wagons. It didn't help that it was weighed down with junk, or rather 'souvenirs' from the odd couple's travels throughout Equestria. With a haggard sigh, Cross takes off. "I'll keep 'em going, but it's not gonna be my fault if we're behind schedule."
"You remind them of that too, Sunny Boy." Momma calls back lovingly to her son.
I smirk as I watched my brother go grumbling off, grabbing his tool box from the back of the family wagon.
Despite its own age, "The Roadster" was always kept in tip top condition, as our families livelihood it was only natural to do so. Still, it was also kept that way out of love. Momma and Daddy bought this old buckboard with every last one of the few bits they got from their wedding day all those years ago. Cross and I practically grew up in the old thing on drives all about. From Las Pegasus, Bovinia, even as far as Canterlot. The old girl had miles worth of character. After Daddy passed, Momma took it upon herself to see to it that it always rolled smooth and had a fresh coat of paint.
Glancing about I can't help but notice that the chief occupant of the Roadster is absent. "Glory down the line playin' with the other young'ins?" I surmise, scanning the line for signs of my little pony.
"That lil' filly is gettin' more work done this morning then you and your brother." A smile creasing her features at the mention of her stalwart granddaughter. "Set out with Ranger to plot out the path."
I get a smile of my own at my daughter's youthful sensibility, sadly something that I'll admit must of skipped a generation. But, I smile a little more at the mention of our company's pathfinder. The stallion known to most only as 'Ranger'.
He came to us about two years ago, and by that I mean we found him. He was wandering about the desert just outside of what is today called 'Appleloosa'. Half dead and delirious, talking gibberish, and utterly terrified...and down right vicious, to anypony who got near him. It took some doing, but we finally got him to trust us. By and by, he eventually opened up to me about his past; where he came from. Knowing him now like I do, I would never call him a liar or crazy, but even so, I still find his story hard to believe.
For that first year it was a matter of getting the big guy back on his hooves. When the time came he chose to stick around. His special talent was put to good use; surveying the land and reading maps. It wasn't long till he was practically part of the family. Glory had taken a shining to him from the start. Her sidewinder of a father took off before she was born, so she warmed up to the stallion like her own blood. Cross had another colt on the trail to shoot the breeze and get into trouble with. Momma got a dependable and honest worker that would steer her son away from trouble. As for me, well, he was somepony I could talk to, somepony I could call 'friend'. He confided in me, and I in him. More and more though, despite my plain sense saying otherwise, I felt like I wanted something...more.
An errant rock on the trail trips me up a bit and yanks me out of my warm and fuzzy thoughts. The near face plant is enough to merit a chuckle from Momma.
"You're gonna wind up eating a face full of dirt if you don't shake off those googly eyes, little missy."
"I'm fine, Momma." I right myself indignantly, feeling my face go red. "You've said it yourself, these roads are dangerous." I add with a toothy grin trying to save a little face.
Momma just gives me another chuckle and shakes her head a bit, her silvering yellow braid shaking with her tithering.
After a bit a walking in silence she speaks again. "He's strong, dependable, and he's got a good heart."
"Who?" I say still refusing to admit anything, forming up my best poker face.
"Don't git smart with me, girly'." Her tone was even but it belied a warning I knew all too well from foalhood. "I'm being serious." My cockiness leaves me as my bluff flounders, 'It always did work better on Daddy.' I thought to myself.
"Any pony can see there is a spark of somethin' sweet their between you too," her eyes regard me empathetically, "hurry up and ask him already! Or you'll be lucky if you can share him." The simple bluntness of her words is infuriating sometimes. How this mare can be so sweet one moment the so pushy the next?
"Momma, I—," I bluster before sighing in defeat. "It ain't that simple." I hang my head a little, already I feel the heat rushing to my cheeks.
"Simpler than your makin' it out to be." She says with a grin giving me a playful nudge to cheer me up. "Why, when I first met your Daddy, I had a dickens of a time getting his attention." Momma's eyes glaze over for a moment, basking in the warmth of her memories. "Pegasus stallions are a skiddish bunch, had to practically hog-tie him just to get him to stand still long enough for me to ask him out to Tumbleweed Gulch soirée." A smile and the hint of a blush touch her lightly sunbaked features. With a shake of her head she looks at me straight on. "Still, you found yourself a nice stallion who is quite earth bound, and not to mention your already on a friendly basis."
"I know, it's just..." I look down kicking at another rock, getting a little payback at its brother for triggering this awkward conversation with my nosey mother. I did want to talk to Ranger, for a while now. We were friends, I knew that for sure. Still, the same nagging thoughts plagued my mind; what if he isn't interested? What if I just push him away? Spook him, so that I just ruin the good thing we got. Then there was his past...
'Knowing what I know...would he...even consider...me?' The thought of not knowing drags me down like a rock, but the thought of forever knowing feels like a boulder.
"Well, whatever y'ur reason," Momma says, interrupting, my thoughts (doubts, rather). She glances back at the line, then back to the current path Ranger himself put us on. "You best go find him and ask when he figures we will be making it home, looks like we're making a pit stop," she says with a sigh of her own as she pulls off to the side.
Looking back I see that number four is pulling further off to the side of the other wagons, taking a bit more space to maneuver. Cross is already grinding his teeth at the drivers, a city slicker couple from out of Hoofdale who came out here for an adventure. He was in the middle of lecturing the two about the stark dangers of prairie travel. Regardless they retained the look of doleful excitement on their faces as they snapped yet another picture of Cross, causing him to fume a bit to himself as he went back to work. Despite his griping, he would be sure to get them underway in no time flat. Still, his playful mood and mine was dowsed by a needless delay that would no doubt take at least an hour to repair even with his considerable talents.
"Maybe somepony could use the time to talk to somepony about something important?" Momma adds in her usual 'Greening Apple Roads-not so subtle' way, punctuating it with a playful wink.
I narrow my eyes at her with a pout. "Maybe 'somepony' should mind their own business," I say smartly, abruptly taking off before she can give me so much as a stern look. Truthfully, I am just grateful to leave that conversation in dust below.
Stats
Page generated in 0.054 seconds
Total duration
1,070 users online
2,455,609 hits today, 2,814,898 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Well that was certainly something. So far I'm really liking the dynamic between Windy and her family members, and you've got more than enough descriptions going on. I think that there's a lot going well for you with this story, so keep at it. A few glaringly obvious grammatical errors though.
needs to be our.
needs to be its. Possessive, not "it is."
needs to all be changed to "I smirk as I watch" because the rest is present tense.
And I IN him.
I mean, it's really good actually. Very enjoyable read, so please don't take my corrections as a sign that I'm frustrated with them or anything. Seriously, I'm correcting them simply so that you can see what's wrong, and fix them. A final piece of advise though, add some longer sentences. At times it feels way too stop-start, when it should flow through the descriptions instead. Will definitely be following this.
For the most part, I've liked it so far. It's not often I find a HiE from the outside perspective and this one seems to have promise. And I'll admit I've never seen the wagon train concept used in a story before either.
I agree with Pwn13s on the short sentences though. While there is nothing wrong with them in principle, it does feel a mite jarring at times and sorta ruining the immersion into the story, at least for me. There were also a few more or less minor grammatical errors. Let me list a few...
Missing punctuation after again.
Period after 'I-' should be a comma.
Their should be there.
Period after the closing quotation should be removed. 'You' should be capitalized. Period after stop should be a comma.
Should be single, not double quotes.
Period should be comma.
Now, it's mostly things like misplaced and misused punctuation marks. Little things, but they can negatively impact reading flow. Overall though? The start of the story is good and I can't way to see where it goes.
First off, I want to say that I love the narrative voice you're using here. The whole point of first person is to give the narrative as much character and depth as the dialogue, and you pull it off wonderfully. From word choice to sentence structure, everything has a bit of Windy in it. So on that part, very well done.
However, as others have pointed out, you've got a lot of technical and grammatical errors throughout. So far the story is good enough that I'm willing to overlook those, but I highly recommend getting yourself an editor.
One thing that I can point out right now without having to go back and pick them out: Don't be afraid to use contractions. Normally that would be something to avoid in the exposition, but since you're using first person, it's perfectly acceptable to pick up Windy's speaking patterns, even when she's not actually speaking.
Use italics rather than single quotes for thoughts.
And finally, there were one or two places where you slipped into present tense when you shouldn't have. Using it in sentences that directly describe something that she just mentioned, or in character thoughts, is perfectly acceptable to establish the context of the historical present, but there were also one or two that were entirely random. Those are the ones that should have still been in past tense.