The Never-Retreating Fury Horde
It really was hard, listening to Twilight for any real length of time when the talk about magic got too intense. But some things had stuck in Applejack's memory, and one of them concerned a legendary spell which had been lost, something only one unicorn in history had ever figured out how to do and never managed to teach anypony else. A trick which temporarily slowed the passage of time for all but the caster, allowing a subjectively-speeded unicorn to temporarily rush through a nearly-frozen world. Twilight had mourned the loss of that spell, as she had all the others, and Applejack had finally asked her just how it had been found in the first place, and whether that same approach could ever get it back.
Twilight had shaken her head, said it had been part of the pony's mark, and there was only so much anypony could do when it came to recreating anything which was so deeply intertwined with mark magic. And then she'd smiled a little in a weary sort of way and finished with "I thought maybe... I could just try starting to work from what happens when we're all on a mission and things start going bad..."
It hadn't made any sense at the time. But Applejack was starting to understand it now, the way time could stretch when you were in charge, every disaster taking place in slow motion, infinite seconds to think about how things were your fault and not a single moment left for doing anything to fix them. Forever was the duration between giving an order and finding out it had been the wrong one.
Or in this case, between having your brother see you and making him listen.
"AJ," and the term of both endearment and belittlement came with just the smallest stomp of his left forehoof, "I ain't gonna let you do it. No way. That's too risky. You're already battered, I don't think you know just how beat up and dirty you are, you're not going to feel it until later, and I'm not letting it get any worse."
"An' who said y'were gettin' a choice?"
He took a deep breath. Big Mac didn't loom, not really: he had a certain presence about him, but he was no good at intimidation and knew it. Still, every so often, she got a reminder of just how big her brother truly was, and it felt as if he was trying to make this one deliberate. "It ain't just your farm, Applejack. You know what could happen out there. Think of something else."
"Mac?"
"What?"
"Y'can shut up now. In fact, Ah'm pretty sure you're gonna."
There was no danger in his voice. There never was. He preferred statements of plain fact. "I'm your brother. Your big brother. So when it comes to something you're going to try on the Acres, I get a vote. The vote."
"So in another three years, file t' run for Mayor an' win -- so Ah can ignore you then, too!"
He stared at her.
"You ain't too old to yell at."
"Already learned that today an' had the yellin' t' boot. Ah've been learnin' a lot of things today, Mac. Ah'm not sure it's possible t' be a leader an' not learn, least not if y'wanna be a good one. Learned a few things about mahself, some of which Ah've gotta think 'bout later, and here's the only one Ah wanna tell you right now: y'know one reason why Ah haven't jus' tried t' order Apple Bloom away from the other two? 'cause some part of me, some deep part, is scared that everythin' could be that much worse if she's bein' so stupid on her own. But Ah ain't the only one who needs lessons, Mac. Sometimes everypony in the whole world does, maybe even the Princesses. Right now, it's yer turn. An' y'can write it down if'fin y'want, sew it into needlepoint an' hang it in your bedroom for all Ah care. But it's a lesson you're way overdue for, an' here it is."
Her breath was deeper than his.
"You ain't a Bearer."
The green eyes, so like her own, the only thing they'd both received from their Mommy, slowly closed.
"I... I know, AJ. I know..."
"An'..." The tones were gentle now. "...Ah know y'worry 'bout what could happen. Maybe even jus' how much y'worry, and it ain't like Apple Bloom helps there. But this is mah life, even if we sometimes don't want it t' be. Right now, it's a mission, even if it's one from the mayor. Y'can give me advice, an' if it's good, Ah might even listen. But y'can't give me orders, an' y'can't say you're gonna ignore me jus' 'cause Ah'm your sister, no matter how much everythin' that goes into makin' you mah brother wants to. Right now, Ah'm in charge. Ah say we've gotta go into the West Orchard, an' Ah need you t' come with. So guess what? You're comin' with."
These breaths were slow ones, and he took several of them before his eyes opened again.
"Granny? Want her in on it? She's upstairs --"
"-- can't keep up. Need ponies who can move."
With faint hope, "Got anypony else besides your crew?"
"Jus' one," and that came out with a sigh. "Not like Ah didn't try -- but ain't never a police officer 'round when y'need one: they must be scattered all over Ponyville tryin' t' keep order, so Ah couldn't get any for this. As for knockin' on doors -- most ponies are too scared t' come out, or busy defendin' their own places, can't be pulled away. It's me, the herd, you now, and Mr. Flankington 'cause we ran into him before leavin' town an' he said he wanted t' see the end of this, maybe mostly 'cause he's worried about bein' sued over what happened from Styrofoam Type Two, plus he thinks he's got somethin' that might help. For real this time. But Ah can't even use Winona... she may be trained, but they ain't trained t' respond, an' they'll be too high up anyways. Gotta keep her out of this. But you... you can think, Mac. Think where Winona an' the geese an' mah best hope can't. You'll adjust on the gallop. Plus you're one more body t' throw into this, an' it ain't a small one. So... you're comin' with."
And forever became the time which passed before he nodded.
"All right, AJ. Anything I need to bring?"
"Get yer lasso."
He started to move out of the kitchen.
"An' Mac? Untie it."
Her brother looked back at her, and the red-furred face slowly broke into a grin.
"What do you think they taste like?"
"Rainbow, hush... We're waitin' on Pinkie right now, so we need quiet."
"I mean, that half-asleep one kind of looks like a strawberry. I'm not talking about biting one. Just that maybe, if somepony managed to sneak up on it and give a quick lick..."
"Rainbow, dear? Please recall that I will be doing some of the herding from below, and if you truly desire it, I am sure I will have very little trouble with enveloping one of the red specimens within my field before slinging the bubble directly into your mouth."
Muttering, "I was just wondering..."
From behind Applejack, a lightly teasing, "So this is what Bearers do all day? Hide behind bushes and wait?"
"No, Mac. It ain't."
"So what do you all do?"
"Try t' think of reasons not t' kill our siblings. An' two of those are Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle, so it's a full-time job. Spike, keep that crunchin' down!"
"I've got to eat if this is going to work."
"Can't y'jus' suck on it?"
"Not sapphires! Garnets, yeah. But I can't eat any garnets right now. They make me sleepy. But if we had a black diamond..."
"...just keep yer mouth closed, okay? I think Ah hear..."
And there it was.
Pinkie marched into the West Orchard, her smiling face just barely visible as she looked up at the occupants of the trees.
In full-throated shout, "Hi, everyone!"
The occupants woke up. All of them. Furious little eyes opened. Wings began to spread.
"I'm Pinkie!" the baker beamed. "We haven't met. But do you know why I'm here today?"
They were focusing on the intruder within their territory, starting to squeal and screech as the colony prepared to swoop...
And then they all froze.
They had heard pony voices, plenty of times, even if they couldn't understand the words. The sounds made by other intruders who'd failed to clear them out of their territory. Screams, curses, growls... they were familiar with all of it, and knew just how to respond: by attacking. Every time.
But they had never heard a spit valve being cleared out.
Pinkie grinned.
"MUSIC!"
It began.
It wasn't music. Fluttershy had asked Pinkie to produce everything she could which didn't have any kind of melody or rhythm attached, which was rapidly turning out to be a fairly natural inclination to begin with. Because the ears might have looked like leaves, but they were still ears, and a species which partially relied on echolocation to make its way in the world really didn't like noise.
The ponies had been braced for it, and they were still fighting the urge to run.
The fruit bats took off as one, fleeing through the treetops, heading for the open sky, trying to find safety until that source was gone, scatter --
-- and then they couldn't.
"Not so fast!" Rainbow grinned, rising up on the left. "Spike...?"
The little dragon smiled, and then exhaled.
The flame jet had been aimed away from the fruit bats: they didn't want to hurt any of them, and the only goal in using it was to keep them in a centralized group, something they could herd -- and in the air, when Spike was deliberately missing, there was nothing else to hit. But the creatures didn't understand the intent of his aim. All they could do was instinctively pull together, keep the rest of the colony close. But it didn't prevent some of the others from trying to scatter on the right --
-- where they found Fluttershy. And several hundred of her small avian friends.
"...no," she said. "Now? Please?"
Her own flock darted in. Wings beat the bats back, keeping the colony together until a few desperate lime-resembling specimens tried to escape to the rear. And unfortunately for them, that was where Mr. Flankington was waiting.
"Free sample?" he offered, and stretched out his red-stained forehooves.
Twenty fruit bats instantly learned how to fly backwards.
"What is that stuff?" Rainbow called out as Spike flamed again, establishing the upper border.
"Crushed boysenberries! Specially treated!"
"Treated with what?"
"Ask me when we're on the ground! I'm older, Rainbow, I'm the oldest pony here, just let me focus on flying, I don't go this fast...!"
And as Pinkie galloped below them, flushing more and more out of the trees, as Rarity's field seized those who tried to find low-altitude means of escape and flung them into the central mass, while untied lassos turned into whips which had Applejack and Big Mac terrifying the fastest into staying with their colony -- the fruit bats saw there was only one direction left, and they were incapable of recognizing that the ponies had left it open on purpose.
The squealing, screeching, frightened, angry mass began to move towards Ponyville.
It wasn't that easy, of course. They had to cover a lot of ground and even more sky: the Acres were situated well away from central Ponyville, and it meant keeping up the constant effort over so much of the settled zone, chasing and herding, inevitably losing a few here and there (all of which immediately broke for the West Orchard), doing everything they could to keep most of the colony intact over what felt like far too long a gallop... it was a constant effort, and it was starting to become an exhausting one.
"Spike, how y'doin' on gems?" It was hard to find enough time to call out the words in, with her mouth constantly so busy with the rope.
"Running low!" was the answer she didn't want to hear, so naturally she got it anyway. "But I can see the bridge! Mr. Flankington, are you okay?"
"I... don't think I've been getting enough exercise..."
"Fluttershy, how are your friends?" Rarity called up as she slung a full salad of low-fleeing bats back into the sky. "Are they managing?"
"...they're fine! We've got enough distance, I think, and no one's hurt! But... why aren't we seeing any geese? There were some on the way to the Acres..."
"The bats are making a lot of noise!" Rainbow noted. "Even more than Pinkie!" (Who had no comment: every breath she could spare was needed for an instrument.) "If the geese really are afraid of them, maybe they're moving ahead of us! Scattering! Or they all just picked up on food somewhere else, or they don't like the boysenberries! But if we go a little faster and hit Ponyville before they can react...!"
"Faster?" Mr. Flankington gasped.
"Just for a few flaps! Come on, one last push! For real this time! I see Town Hall, I see the bell, I see geese, Spike, get it ready --"
"-- an' everypony down here, too!" Appejack managed to call out. "Pinkie, don't stop playin'! Mac, Rarity, remember, soon as we're over the bridge, switch tactics!" The planks were almost in front of her hooves. "Count it off! We're there in five, four, three, two --"
-- they all came over the bridge, ground and air. Rainbow went up, tilted her body as a little dragon clung to her mane, and then dropped at the exact moment Spike exhaled again, lips pursed to create a temporary thin horizontal sheet of flame, one which was descending at the same rate as the pegasus, something which happened at the same moment Mac and Applejack momentarily stopped, and Rarity switched her efforts into pulling stragglers down.
The geese occupying that part of Ponyville had just enough time to look up before the colony dropped on them.
Pinkie was galloping in a wide circle now, the noise still coming. Every corralling effort had been switched into keeping the fruit bats in the rough vicinity. Which would have been harder, with so much more ground and sky to cover, something which should have failed in seconds without at least eight times the number of ponies reinforcing the borders -- except for one thing.
They'd just dropped a colony of furious fruit bats on top of a flock of angry, hyper-territorial Crystal Geese.
The latter had been looking for something to hurt all day. The former just wanted something to take the noise out on. Each provided the other with exactly what was needed.
The fight began.
It took everything the ponies had to not do anything other than watch. The geese were big, so much larger than the bats -- but as Fluttershy had predicted, all that meant was that a single goose couldn't defend their entire body from the swarm of combatants. Sharp teeth nipped at beaks and necks, stabbed into flailing wings. Near-hypersonic screeches added to the din, assaulted hearing which had already been offended by the noise. The geese were disoriented, overwhelmed, they wanted to fight this latest encroachment, but they didn't know how --
-- one took off.
Then two.
Four. Wings sending them higher and higher, heading for the horizon with no signs of slowing or dipping...
"Keep it up! Applejack yelled, trying not to hope. "Don't let the bats get out! Jus' the geese! An' if we get 'em all t' leave from here, we can switch up an' move the bats again! Jus' keep goin', everypony, maybe we've got a chance --"
The noise faltered.
Applejack's eyes immediately went left, and saw exactly what she'd just thought to fear: Pinkie had stumbled, and the bright coat was drenched with sweat.
The baker was... energetic. 'Hyperactive' might have been somewhat more fair, and that fast-running engine drove her all over the settled zone, laughing and cheering and doing whatever she saw as necessary in order to make somepony happy. But no matter how it might appear sometimes, no matter what the others occasionally found themselves believing, her strength wasn't inexhaustible. She'd been keeping up at full gallop all the way from the Acres while carrying bale-weights worth of instruments and playing them at the same time, constantly, Applejack had made the same mistake twice and she could do nothing but helplessly stare as all four of Pinkie's knees bent a little too far, the myriad of instruments began to slide into each other, and in the middle of watching all that, she completely missed the pony coming in from the side road.
Pinkie fell. Instruments scattered in all directions.
The noise stopped.
The bats froze. Tiny eyes sought the sky, looked for escape --
-- in the single second they had to do so before the caterwauling hit.
It was worse than mere noise. It nearly drove the ponies into the ground, and fifteen geese desperately broke off their battles to flee for the sky. And it just kept coming, a careful symphony of sonic agony, one which drove the bats into renewed assaults and the geese to increasing desperation...
Applejack stared at Lyra, whose field was rearranging most of the instruments onto her own body while simultaneously playing (if that was the word) so many others.
"I thought..." the composer awkwardly said, just barely audible through the nightmarish cacophony, "...there was a teeny-tiny chance that they maybe just wanted to hear something from a professional..."
And Applejack watched a sweat-dripping Pinkie slowly picking her way back onto her hooves, and grinned. "All right!" she shouted. "Keep it up, everypony, let me know who's gettin' tired, Ah'll whip some fresh ponies outta their houses if Ah've gotta -- see that? They're takin' off! They're all takin' off! Lyra, y'ain't done this with us, so follow mah lead: as soon as this group's up, we're gonna move towards the market square! We run this through the whole town, an' then we --"
Spike roared.
"EVERYPONY! LOOK UP!"
They looked. And for a single moment, nopony could see the sky, for it had gone dark with wings.
Geese were rising from every part of Ponyville. From everywhere around Ponyville, honking and hissing and leaving one last portion of stryofoam behind. Even the sick ones staggered upright, put everything they had left into wingbeats, shakily got into the air and staggered at the back of the flock, for it had turned out that the Everything they Owned was but a rental, and they no longer wanted anything to do with what was suddenly no longer their territory.
It took three minutes, no more. Lyra stopped playing, the others shut down their herding efforts, and the furious fruit bats streaked away, instinctively heading directly for the temporarily-abandoned home they had to defend.
The geese were gone.
There was never a police officer around when you needed one. But the opposite frequently seemed to be true, and as Applejack watched them approach, four towing two laden sleds (one covered, one not), with a fifth personally escorting a pony she'd seen only too recently, she began to wonder if the same thing held for mayors.
"Before we start..." the mayor said, adjusting her cracked glasses, "...by any chance, does this happen to be yours?"
She nodded towards the uncovered sled. There was an unconscious green-grey unicorn stallion on it.
"Naw," Applejack said. "Ain't one of mine."
"Because while he could still talk, he was saying something about how all the ponies here must have done something to the geese, and it was our fault that they weren't as regal as they appeared?"
"Ah ain't responsible for what other ponies think." Some of those other ponies were now beginning to emerge from homes and shops. "Never have been."
"And of course, you didn't peck him into the ground."
"Ain't got the anatomy."
The fresh arrivals stared at the goose-free ground and sky. Focused on the remnants of their presence, and then the filth-covered ponies who'd been out in it all along.
"Everypony!" the mayor happily called out. "I am proud to announce that the crisis has passed -- thanks once again to our Element-Bearers!" A quick nod to Lyra, Mac, and Mr. Flankington, followed by "With some extra help!"
The sheer force of the cheers rebounded off fouled walls and feathered ground, ruffled encrusted fur (as far as that could still be done) and almost shifted her hat -- but somehow, none of them ever quite reached Applejack's ears.
"Is something wrong, Applejack?"
"Jus' thinkin', Marigold."
"About...?"
"That if they're so quick t' cheer when it's over, maybe they shouldn't be so fast t' scream when it starts."
It got her a small, sad smile. "It doesn't work that way.... Very well. You, as leader, have clearly done the job I requested of you. And on behalf of Ponyville, I thank you all. Mr. Flankington, Ms. Heartstrings, and Mr. Macintosh -- please return to your homes. There are some things I have to say to the Bearers, and you should be no part of what comes next."
Big Mac took a long, slow look at the mayor. "That's mah sister," he eventually said. "Anything you can say to her, you can say to me."
"That," the mayor corrected, "is my direct agent in this matter. You? Are not. Please go home."
"But --"
"-- Ah'm fine, Mac. Ah'll see you later. Jus' stop by Town Hall an' let Apple Bloom out, take her home?" With a little smile of her own, "An' maybe even think about lettin' the other two go?"
He took a deep breath, slowly nodded, and trotted away. Mr. Flankington and Lyra, after a long, worried look from the latter, did the same.
"Very well," the mayor repeated. "Congratulations, of course. The geese are certainly gone. Your leadership has been proven."
"We all pitched in, plus friends an' family. Ah was jus' at the front of the herd some of the time. An' as far as what y'told me 'bout bein' the leader --"
"-- as has your reliability and helpfulness, once again. Along with your sense of responsibility." The mayor smiled. "And given that we all know just how much you and your friends are directly responsible for..."
"Yer smiling."
"Am I?"
"Ah don't think Ah like that smile."
"Really? Well, you'll have plenty to time to reconsider that, because --" the mayor raised her voice again, making it more than audible to the ponies who were still streaming out to investigate "-- the Bearers have volunteered to help with cleanup!"
Applejack stared at the mayor through the barrier of renewed cheers, and had plenty of company.
"No, we ain't."
"Yes. You are."
"Ah never said any such thing! Ah don't speak for other ponies! That's wrong, an' what you jus' did, that's even worse! Ah'm gonna tell everypony in town 'bout how y'jus' went an' lied t' their faces --"
"-- I look at you all," the mayor smoothly cut in, "and I see many professions. Animal caretaker and weather coordinator. Farmer and baker. Designer and assistant. It's quite an impressive range of skills, really. But regretfully, not a single architect. Somehow, when the Elements found their Bearers, there was no need perceived for anypony who could look at a town hall's rotunda and consider how its design might affect the acoustics. Whether it had been made to funnel sound up, and into an office..."
The smile got stronger.
"I believe Fluttershy said they were from the Empire. Would anypony happen to remember who freed that...?"
And as they all stood still, frozen with horror, her forelegs dipped, and her neck tilted towards the covered sled, teeth nipping at the tarpulin.
"So. These are your brooms. And dustpans. With hoof attachments. Trash bins will be coming along shortly. Should what I am now told is called styrofoam corrode its way through them, feel free to ask for replacements -- not so fast, young dragon: your sister made certain to give you your full due of praise for your part in the return of the crystals, and so I think you're just as due your full share of this, plus the process might even go faster when claws are involved. Clean up as much as you can, until the Sun is lowered, and somewhat beyond -- and in return, I swear to never tell any of our townsponies about how all of this was so very arguably your fault."
"Ah've --- Ah've got mah own Acres t' freshen. I've got tenants who need clean grass..."
"Your brother and sister are heading back. They can do the work. And I'm sure most of your tenants are perfectly capable of doing some cleaning on their own."
"But Ah've sorta got this one really dumb bull..."
"And I have a settled zone which is currently barely fit for continued settlement. Which should take priority?"
They stared at each other for a while, police and friends staying out of the little war.
"This is blackmail," Applejack declared.
"Is it? I prefer to see it as a simple choice. You can be responsible -- or I can be honest."
Applejack took a slow step forward, saw the officers tense. Then another.
Then her head went down, and she carefully picked up the first broom.
"Thank you," the mayor said, and turned away. "And now, if everypony will excuse me..."
She took her first hoofstep. Her head dipped.
"...I -- have some very familiar forms to fill out..."
Applejack watched her go. And then everypony else approached the second sled.
"Ah wish Twi was here."
Rarity sighed, although such was just barely discernable through her repeated gagging. "As do I. An extra set of hooves and an additional field would be rather helpful at the moment. Oh, why would the mayor not let us use the spa before starting on cleaning up the entire market square, with nopony else around to help at all? I am feeling every bit of styrofoam in my coat and mane, along with all the bruises from the day's fighting which I had somehow managed to overlook until now..."
"Ah'm hurtin' too, Rarity. Pretty sure we all are, lookin' at the hits. But with Twi... Ah was actually thinkin' 'bout magic. One spell, an' maybe she could make this all jus' vanish..."
"Or," Pinkie proposed, "she might make it all combine into a giant monster! Which would go around eating the whole -- wait, we sort of already did that one time, only without the giant part..."
It got a tiny chuckle from Spike. "Yeah. There's reasons ponies usually don't try to just make up workings on the spot, Pinkie. A lot of them. That one probably should have been featured in a lecture to the Equestrian Magic Society all by itself..."
"So it could be a choice between a slow cleanup and just fighting one big monster?" Rainbow asked.
"If the spell went wrong."
She thought about it. "Fighting the monster would be a lot faster."
Nopony answered that, and the cleanup resumed.
For a while.
"...um... I've... everypony, I've kind of been thinking..."
"Well, there's a mistake," Rainbow groaned. "What were you thinking about, Fluttershy?"
Softly, "...I'm not sure we really did anything."
Rarity's hard-spiking field nearly lost the entire styrofoam load. "Did not -- didn't -- nothing? Do you see any geese here? I see remnants of geese, so many --" The underlayer of the no-longer-white coat would have normally been starting to flush green, but that shade was impossible to pick out under all the others, and so they simply waited until the designer had finished retching into the trash bin again. "Clearly we did something! The proof is in the absence!"
"...it's just that..." Wings and forehooves helplessly spread. "...yes, some of the geese were leaving, and others might have seen them doing it, and their instincts could have told them there was something to run from. But... they took off from everywhere. All at once, at the same time. Even the ones who had no way to see or hear or smell anything we were doing. And... we know they're migrators, this didn't have to be their last stop, and I thought that maybe, when we brought the bats in, we might have done it at the exact moment when they were already going to... well..."
Her right eye vanished behind manefall. The left simply closed under the weight of the next word.
"...migrate?"
Nopony moved. Nopony could move.
"So you're sayin'," Applejack barely breathed, "that it mighta jus' been coincidence? That the geese didn't learn nothin' from it at'tall?"
"...they can't learn..."
"An' --" locked into horror, her eyes fixed on something which wasn't now "-- when they migrate in the other direction...?"
"...they'd come back..."
Everypony, as indicated by the near-total lack of breathing, thought about that for a while.
"...we could try and prepare for next time?" Fluttershy carefully suggested. "...we know how long they stay now: about nine hours, plus whatever we missed during the night. We could ask Canterlot to send out scouts, see where they go, when they start to return... maybe we could borrow Shining Armor and just go under a shield for a little while..."
Their temporary, recently-retired leader considered it.
"Ah dunno," Applejack finally said, and the right side of her mouth momentarily twitched up. "Because..." She paused, scraped some more styrofoam into the dustpan, tilted it into the trash bin and listened to the acidic sizzle. "...there's the names..."
"...the -- names?"
"Yeah. When y'think 'bout it, that's kind of a clue right there, ain't it? As t' where they go. Ain't gonna have a name for somethin' if you've never met it. An' maybe different species had territory that far back, but some of 'em always started in one place an' jus' tried t' expand out. So let's say they keep flyin' in the direction we all saw 'em take off in, an' eventually, maybe not even hittin' any other settled zones if we're that lucky, they get out of Equestria. T' someplace which already had a name for 'em. Get the map up in your heads, everypony... far as the nations go --" both sides twitched up this time "-- what's their next stop?"
This silence was brief, providing just enough time for a wincing Fluttershy to completely retreat under her own mane.
"The Griffon Republic," Rarity breathed.
"Protocera," Rainbow corrected.
"Well, yes, for those who are rather more familiar with the language -- Fluttershy? No, that's all right, dear, go ahead, take a few minutes, we understand, we will be there when you need us..."
"Hey, Rainbow?" Applejack called out.
"What's up?"
"If Gilda ever writes you... talkin' 'bout another summer... Ah ain't invitin' mahself along, but if y'get any pictures, or have ones from the old days, Ah'd kinda like t' see a griffon ranch."
"Seriously? Because I've got a couple of albums! I could fly them down to you tomorrow!"
"Yeah. Seriously."
And with entirely faked suspicion, "Any reason this is coming up now?"
"Well, it's really jus' another kind of farmin', ain't it? There's always stuff t' learn."
A very dubious "Uh-huh..."
"An'... Ah was just thinkin'."
"Thinking what?"
"Ah think Ah kinda like griffons."
Rainbow grinned, got back to work, trying to clear her portion of the market square before anypony else could finish theirs. Pinkie finished filling a bin, then went off to check on Fluttershy. Spike brought Rarity something fresh to gag in. Applejack simply went for a replacement dustpan, with her trot to the supply area negating any chance anypony had to look at her face, along with putting her well out of casual hearing.
"Suspiciously extinct," she whispered within her momentary privacy. "Ultionum Prandium..."
And she finally let that special, slightly-mercenary smile come.
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Wow just dropping 40,000 word story like that. I thought this was going to be another one of your mid four digit comedies. Not that I'm complaining. I'm not. I'm just probably not going to read it because I'm a horrible person who mostly only read short stories other than Austraeoh. But it's coming from you so I'm sure it's good. See now I sound like an asshole. But hey, I follow you, Love reading your blogs, and support you on patreon, so I must think you're doing something right, right?
7185145
Don't worry: someone will be along to call it the surest hallmark of a lazy & unskilled writer in a minute... (But truthfully, I think it works best when you already know the characters well enough to hear their voices.)
My running gag!
If Rainbow can hover... Fly-by wing swipes aren't kind either. As for the return of the geese being inevitable: it's partially how Fluttershy and the others are choosing to perceive the situation. Remember, the last barriers didn't really go down until after the fight.
(I was going to put a piece of fanart showing Spike as Cap here. And then Google told me there wasn't one. How did we all miss that?)
No: including yourself, four people asked for the preview password, and one person sent a few PMs as the story progressed. You're just the only one who decided to get First Comment! Or in this case, first six.
(For everyone who has no idea what we're talking about: one of my Patreon rewards for sponsors is that every so often, I'll randomly offer people at that level early access to a story. In this case, a few people were basically watching while it was being written. Literally, because based on the active chapter being-viewed count, I know I went through at least two compositions with someone peeking over my shoulder.)
7200798
I said I was going to get this one into the New column as a single post, accurately tagged as Complete on the day it went up, or it wasn't going up at all. I meant it. If I'd gone with putting up ten chapters in ten days, some people might have just shrugged at the final word count. It's having it hit all at once which makes an impact.
For the sake of sanity, it's sometimes best to treat stories (and infinity) as a sequence of smaller bits.
7200806
Hi. I'm Estee.
That's my evening sorted out then.
Well, this and David Attenborough's new series...
Okay, this was one of the funniest stories I have ever read in recent memory. Seriously, it takes a great author to write a funny over 40,000 word story with a invasion of geese as the centerpiece.
7200969
But when she was absent -- well, the cottage grounds always had their share of carnivores. Very defensive carnivores. There was a silent understanding that Intruders Would Be Dealt With, although Snowflake had sometimes wondered if Fluttershy would benefit from a sign reading Bill Disputers May Be Eaten.
7200963
Using species names as direct attacks is something of a time-honored tradition.
Speaking as a Canadian who lives near a University with lotsa large green spaces...
I wish they only stayed nine hours.
Beautifully done as always Estee. Even though I find myself with an overwhelming urge to punch the mayor in the mouth.
I’m glad you liked the names.
7201101
And thankee again.
I just hope the Author's Note on the last chapter (where I credited everyone from the original blog post) is showing up. It doesn't always appear in the non-edit window during composition.
Wow. I wasn't expecting this. Don't know what I was expecting, but not an engrossing exploration of responsibility, deep-seated abandonment issues, ingenuity, the limits of thaumobiology, the logical consequences of a special talent in politics, the perils of pure academia, weaponized boysenberries...
Yeah, this was a trip and a half, even if I don't agree with the idea of where the ultimate responsibility lies... unless Sombra was going to kill the geese. Which I could certainly see. He certainly wouldn't tolerate an entire flock of competing tyrants.
(Also, I have to admit, I did a double take when I say my name in the author's note. I'd forgotten about that comment.)
Thank you for this, Estee. It's always good to see an idea come to fruition, and this one was especially enjoyable.
7201134
Or he just might have been considering whether he had the makings of a slow-strike avian army.
43,126 words and not one of them is 'gander'.
Looks like the gender imbalance in Equestria isn't limited to ponies,
*Alondro spies a Canada goose...* DIE YOU FILTHY POOP MACHINES!!! DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE!!!!
(They've reached Biblical plague numbers here in NJ.)
7201257
Then for 'bring back,' try 'integrated'. But it's their perspective on events, and they're sort of right on top of it.
7201263
As I understand it, for linguistics alone, "goose" will be singular for either gender, with "geese" as the plural. I have a harder time dealing with cattle, which is a species that has accepted gender-specific terms and no common singular neutral.
But for what it's worth, you can safely assume half of them were males.
7201269
May 9th, 2016: the first time Alondro ever had a public underreaction.
Look up in the sky! Its a bird! Its a plane! No! Its the Royal Canadian Geese Force!
7185145 Canada geese attacked me one time... they foolishly thought I was as weak as other hyoomans...
The corpses of those foolish few taught the rest to flee in terror at the sight of me.
Same goes for white-tailed deer.
(Alondro: The REAL Jersey Devil)
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7201286
I'm just bitter because my high school mascot was a gander; kinda hard to be enthusiastic about sports when your rivals from the next town over have a snarling tiger painted on everything and all you've got for backup is a smelly oversized duck,
7201329 Well, you could look at it this way: tigers are critically endangered, while Canada geese have taken over half a continent.
Soo... yay?
7201329
Works for Oregon.
visitpb.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/10/oregon-ducks-logo-visit-pb-pacific-beach-alehouse.jpg
Besides, if it's Canada Goose vs. Tiger, someone's going to risk a dollar on the goose.
7201342
See, that works. That's Donald... Donald I get; nobody wants to pick a fight with a duck that knows Firaga and has anger management issues:
49.media.tumblr.com/f1f80ce8b55ade5f41b195f12cfbb8ea/tumblr_nyy6mbFNdt1tlxl72o1_400.gif
We had this schmuck:
rondout.k12.ny.us/common/pages/GalleryPhoto.aspx?photoId=14911889&width=800&height=600
... What are you even doing, dude...
Now, I absolutely HAVE to share this email I sent Estee during the early process.
You know, if you're evil, you'll resolve it this way.
"You are incorrect, Twilight." Princess Celestia took a step forward and carefully levitated her crown, petryal, and all four golden hoof-boots to one side and made a small pile of the symbols of her position. "We have seen these geese before, and know how to properly put them in their place."
Luna closed her eyes and rested a hoof against her forehead. "Please, Celly. Not in public."
"There's really no choice, sister. It was not I who started this." Celestia strode forward regardless of the squishing noises from underhoof, paused a goodly distance away from the irate goose, and spread out her great white wings.
"Honk," she declared.
The goose responded as if he had been... well, goosed. He lowered his head and spread out his own not inconsiderable wings, which although they were smaller than the Princess of the Sun, seemed just as strong. With a loud hiss, he waddled forward several steps and seeming intentionally dropped a load of slimy dung behind him.
Celestia hissed back, lowering her head and bracing herself to charge...
As soon as I saw that title and cover picture.
I think you meant fowl.
7201547
No. No, I do not.
7201371
Donald's crazy, man. It was the war. The best parts of his soul got left on the bloodstained sand of some tropical island in the South Pacific. He ain't never been the same.
No really.
Me: "I'm going to have some foie gras for dinner tonight." (1)
Random SF Liberal: "That's horrible! Don't you know they torture geese to make that?!?"
Me: "Ever dealt with geese before?"
Random SF Liberal: "No..."
Me: "The geese are getting better than they deserve."
(1)-Which I can not do in California any more because it's against the law to force feed geese.
7201611
Pretty much. I was originally going after the airborne equivalent of road rage.
And finished. Well. That was... really something
I'm not sure how to describe it, but the fact that I just read 43k words in one sitting suggests it was really really good. I do not normally do that.
I now want the sequel where Applejack runs for Mayor the following year. She doesn't have to win. She just has to make Marigold burn all her bridges to secure re-election and get stuck with the worst job in Equestria.
Still not seeing how the blame issue is supposed to work, to be honest. Given the rules of transitive blaming on display here, the ponies to get upset with would seem to be Celestia and Luna, and Mayor Mare can feel free to accuse them and see where that gets her.
I see now the replies to the earlier comments, but just so you know: when someone comments on a chapter that isn't the last, and you reply on the story page, that reply gets posted on the latest chapter and the commenter doesn't get a notification. One of the oddities of this website.
Thanks for putting my name in the list of contributors
I hoped for this story to appear ever since that blog, and the end result was surprising and compelling all the way through. Deny it as much as you want, but there's a reason we follow you 
7201635
Yes, clearly the exact thing any Equestria politician without aspirations of joining the Loyal Opposition should immediately do...
But I also wanted to show how stressed the mayor is at this point on the local timeline. And if Unopposed (a story idea about the no-opponents mayoral campaign) gets written, this just set a lot of it up.
Really? That's odd. I always seem to get notifications when someone replies to me on other stories, and I don't want to go into the relevant local chapter every time before replying because I don't want to falsify the view count. Plus a lot of people do seem to notice when I answer something -- but maybe they're just checking back on their own...
7201662
Well I suppose it might be some bug that only affects me for all I know, but I've never gotten a notification when someone replies to me like that.
7201662
I can confirm what Daedelus reported with regards to comments on multichapter stories. (And, for the record, I was checking on the story out of idle curiosity.)
This was really funny, but I think that the best part about it was the huge amount of backstory/worldbuilding for the Triptychverse.
I wonder if Mr. Flankington has now sold enough product to fund his entire next decade's worth of culinary misadventures?
Canada Geese: Canada's terrorist threat.
This was great. Although I gotta say that the mayor is pure evil. If she forces the Bearers on cleanup duty every time there's a disaster, they might decide not to help out next time
...I suddenly don't feel too bad about enjoying foie gras on occasion.
I'm rather confused... how was it the Bearers' fault that the Crystal Empire came back? I thought the banishing spell or whatever it was just ran out.
They didn't bring it back, they just helped it out when it did come back.
Two uses for these menaces:
The Prench delicacy known as foie gras.
The traditional Hearth's Warming meal in the Bittish Isles.
7201607 Foie Gras is delicious, and made even better by imagining it's made from a Canada goose.
7202446
They are responsible for it being integrated back into the world, rather than being destroyed or treated as an enemy power. And as said elsewhere, this is also about how they are seeing it.
On Twilight's return to Ponyville...
"Hi girls, anything.happen while I was gone?"
*Applejack tackles her and pins her in a bone-crushing hug*
"Don't you never leave us again."
"Double negative..." Twilight gasped out.
7202494
But that's a very different thing than what even Rainbow was agreeing with back in chapter six - namely, that somehow their actions indirectly caused the geese to be freed. I don't even see a vague connection there.
It's not just not their fault, but entirely unrelated to them.
I mean... the geese had already probably flown away by the time the Bearers reached the Empire.
7202477
It's not a priori true that a shorter story is a better one - even outside of the fact that jokes can exist for their own sake.
Though that's all a bit moot since the character has other roles to play later, apparently. Considering who they are a mockery of, I'll be looking forward to that quite eagerly.
The gradual invasion from Canada hereabouts of just these grey monsters is a familiar strain- since you can't get rid of them short of killing, and you can't just kill em...well, suffice to say I appreciate everything they talk about here.
Much of it from experience. Frickin' styrofoam. And favorited for the bestest monsters I ever never expected to pit against ponies.
The true reason Canadians are so nice? If people knew we'd weaponized the Canadian goose we'd all have to be really good at apologizing. It's just practice
this story was amazing, as I'm reading it at 2 in the morning, I'm starting to regret some choices
7201148
I smell a sequel
eww no wait it's just some brooding styrofoam
7201624 About that: the current chapter title literally translates to 'fury Flight' in the initial form. The two words don't connect with each other via a proper grammatical case, which results in the title reading as two separate words (something like saying 'he hat' while meaning to say 'his hat'). Given that in Russian there's no idiomatic equivalent of 'road rage' as such, and one would use completely different strings of words to translate something like "The police suspected that road rage was the cause of shooting" and "He must have had a bad case of road rage", I'm having a hard time coming up with a proper title that would convey what you meant. Right now, at least.
(As for actually reading the thing, I'll have to postpone that for some time; damn exams.)
7202589
Which would also explain why they are only now meeting any geese. The geese probably flew off the moment the Empire was unsealed.