• Published 29th Nov 2011
  • 7,702 Views, 33 Comments

Leave Your Crusts - Terse



Soaren takes a trip to Ponyville, where he discovers a taste for the most delectable of Apples.

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Zipping down a darkened corridor, towards an abandoned balcony and the vast night-time sky, Soarin' couldn’t help but contemplate exactly what he’d gotten himself into.

Some Gala, huh, was his first thought, rounding another corner as the door to the balcony he’d been headed for slammed shut. Outside he caught a glimpse of two ponies engaged in a passionate embrace, and though for a moment he pondered ploughing through the glass doors to freedom, ultimately the desire to let them have their fun won out. If I’d known this was going to happen I’d have taken the day off!

He couldn’t help but be slightly angry, more at Spitfire than himself. She’d promised him an easy, relaxing evening of fine dining, fine company, and fine music, and to be fair to her, it had started off pretty well.

That one pony selling the fantastic apple treats in the palace courtyard had been real cute.

Then the entire thing had gone to absolute pony hell, and now he was stuck, on the run for his life.

Behind him, somewhere distant in the elaborate labyrinth of corridors that made up the lower floors of the castle complex, Soarin' caught the sound of a terrifying roar, low, loud and furious.

“Soarin'!” was the only word of it he could make out, before he dove through an arras leading to a private balcony, slamming into a couple locked in a heated kiss of their own.

He had to get out, fast, maybe faster than he’d ever flown before. If Spitfire found him, he’d be in for a real scolding. So far he’d managed to avoid it, but he knew just how fast she was, and taking chances with the squad leader, who could ground him for a week (longer than he could ever stand staying still) with little more than a word was too suicidal for the pegasus’ tastes.

Clutching his head with one foreleg, Soarin' grabbed the railing on the balcony that he’d ploughed into and pulled himself up, hoof kneading the bruise on his temple that felt more like a dent.

The two ponies he’d thrown apart were just beginning to help themselves into a standing position. Soarin', as carefully as he could, offered them each a hoof.

“The nerve,” the first sniffed, slapping away the proffered hoof as he brushed himself down. What a waste of fancy formalwear. “Such gall, to interrupt a pair in the throes of passion in such an unseemly manner! Have you no shame, sir?”

“Yeah! Who do you think you are?” the second, dressed in decidedly more plain garb, seemed almost out of place on the balcony. Almost as if she were...

Startled out of contemplation by the worryingly close sound of Spitfire’s trademark flight trails, a mixture of the crackle of bolts of contained lightning and the hissing of fiery sparks, Soarin' flapped his wings, desperately seeking an escape route.

Spitfire was faster than he was, a better flier, and smarter, too.

Maybe I should just give up, he thought, fear beginning to rise in his throat. She wouldn’t kick me off the team, right? Right? Who am I even askin’?

“I know you’re here, Soarin'!” The lash of thunder, followed by a spectacular bright light, on the other side of the arras, sent all three of them jumping into the air. “Come out where I can see you! You’re in big trouble!”

No! With newfound determination, Soarin' glared at the curtains, stretching all four of his legs as he unfurled his wings. I’m no quitter! And if I quit now, that’s no pies, no flying, no nothin’ for a week! Maybe even more! I didn’t come this far just to get caught!

A quick turn was all it took, followed by a hop, skip and jump. Proper flight technique had been drilled into his head since he was a foal, and now it brought him relief, hind legs clearing the balcony as he soared through the cool midnight air.

On the horizon, still late in the evening, lights were beginning to flicker, on and off, in what Soarin' assumed was a town. That would be where he’d hide out from Spitfire, he decided, thoughts racing as he plummeted through the air.

Behind him, he was fairly certain the sounds of something being incinerated by barely-contained rage, followed by two girlish squeals, were nothing he needed to concern himself with.


“Hey, AJ!”

Another peaceful morning had come and gone in the idyllic town of Ponyville, a day’s trek away from the magnificent metropolis of Canterlot, and Applejack found herself wondering how exactly she’d managed to get caught up in what was arguably the biggest, most rewarding mess of her life.

“Mornin’, Soarin',” she sighed through the hoe gripped tightly in her jaw. The words came out slightly muffled, which made the Wonderbolt cock his head ever so slightly, but he seemed to understand, prancing over to her to peck her on the nose.

“How’s my little apple pie doing today? Workin’ hard?”

Applejack took slight offense to the pet name, cocking one eyebrow in distaste. The darker, more lascivious part of her mind supplied a quick quip on the amount of cocking being done today, but she snuffed it out, suppressing her errant thoughts with a shudder.

“Just dealin’ with some plantin’ that needs doing,” she shot back, stretching. It had been an inordinately long time since she’d last had opportunity to relax, and now she was beginning to regret choosing to get up so early to head off the day’s chores. She’d much rather have preferred to leave them to Big Mac. “Orchards’re in need of a good buckin’, gotta sow next season’s crops in the fields, harvest some of that there wheat you’re tramplin’...”

“Oh!” Soarin’s reaction was almost immediate, a sudden stutter followed by a jump that carried him out of the danger zone and over to her side. “Sorry about that, I always forget. No worries, right?”

“It’s all right, sugarcube,” Applejack crooned, nuzzling the Wonderbolt’s neck, “as long as you don’t give me any trouble while I’m plantin’. The farm comes first.”

“But giving you trouble’s fun, AJ,” he laughed back, leaning further into the orange earth pony. For a moment there was a comfortable silence between them, and in that moment, Soarin' pondered the events of the past two weeks of his life. They’d been long weeks, full of uncertainty, but he’d had a nice little vacation, and everything had been wrapped up nicely.

“Don’t I know it,” Applejack eventually replied, breaking the silence with a smile and a quick peck on the cheek. Soarin' couldn’t help but blush. “Now stop botherin’ me so I can work. Go on, get!”

With a nudge and a playful grin, the mare bounded off towards the orchards, tiny, yappy dog in tow. Soarin’s eyes followed her intently, unable to look at anything else, and he sighed, soft smile spreading across his face.


The morning after the Grand Galloping Gala found the famous wingman of the Wonderbolts, stunt flier extraordinaire and all-around pretty cool guy, cruising through the high altitudes above the road to Ponyville at a leisurely pace.

He’d been flying all night, making sure to take extra time along the scenic route to lose any possible pursuers. Spitfire hadn’t gone after him, thankfully, but he was certain she’d seen him heading off in the direction of the tiny town in the boondocks by the Everfree Forest, and that there’d be some sort of big “capture operation” soon enough.

A chase he couldn’t handle, but hide-and-seek? Spitfire knew what she’d be getting into, he knew that. They’d grown up together, and as he’d proved time and time again, no one was better at truancy than him.

The morning sky was dotted with clouds, a telltale sign of lazy pegasi weather controllers, and Soarin' took the time to attack each one with vigour, powerful bucks tearing them apart like cotton candy in a wolf’s teeth. It had been quite a while since the blue colt had found the time to work with the weather, a pegasus’ natural affinity, and he found he missed the soft, fluffy texture of clouds on his hooves, the way they burst into little showers of water vapour upon contact, scattering glittering dots of clean, pure rain to the wind.

He wanted to whip up a tornado or two, really experiment with some of the tricks he’d learned in flight school. Maybe some lightning. A little zap would probably have jolted him into consciousness better than ten cups of coffee ever could. Still, he restrained himself, lazily gliding down the path of air currents that led in the direction of the town. The warm breeze swimming over his body caressed his fur with all the love of Mother Nature, and beneath the bright early-morning sun, everything seemed almost too good to be true. Even in the aftermath of that disastrous shindig and all the torture that had come with it, Soarin' was grateful for another new day, and a few more hours of listless flight through tranquil skies.

By the time the laid-back pegasus touched down just far enough outside of the small town to get a bead on the local skyways, most of which were happily clear of traffic and empty of leftover work hazards, he’d worked up a fair sweat, and a crazy appetite. Luckily, years of experience had acclimatised him to both, and the delectable scent of cookery wafting in his direction from a barnyard at the crest of a nearby hill grabbed his attention faster than a coyote’s run.

“Oooh, is that pie?” Soarin' couldn’t help himself. It had been hours since his last meal, hours since that pie the cute apple farmer had sent his way, but he could already feel the taste of it welling up in his throat, tiny crumbs stuck to the roof of his mouth swept away by the motion of his tongue lapping them up. “So hungry! Got to be quick!”

The colt stomped the ground beneath his hooves, in a full run towards the barn long before the dust had settled.


“Oh, wow, AJ, this is an awesome spread!” Rainbow Dash couldn’t keep the anticipation out of her eyes, nor the drool from her mouth, and AJ wasn’t helping matters, constantly ladling even more food out on the table. Applebloom was positively electric with excitement, fidgeting and shuddering in her seat, and Macintosh, though mostly placid, couldn’t stop licking his lips. Granny Smith sat at the head of the table, a serene smile on her wrinkled face, eyes crinkled with joy as she helped herself to the first of the salads. “I didn’t think you’d be back at the oven after the Gala disaster!”

“Now hold on, y’hear,” the orange earth pony snapped back, glaring. “I’m not goin’ to pretend that wasn’t a complete failure, but I ain’t going to let it get me down either, and neither should you gals!”

“Absolutely!” Rarity’s eyes were still rimmed with bags after the trip home, bloodshot and tearful, but she seemed the most composed of the six mares, barring Granny Smith. “To allow something so silly as the Gala...our best night ever...” The white unicorn stopped for a moment, taking a few sniffs, before breaking down into another sobbing fit. Fluttershy massaged her back with a hoof, in a gesture of comfort.

“It’s okay, Rarity,” she cooed into the unicorn’s ear, “we all know how you feel, it’s all right. You can cry as much as you like.”

“How can you be so strong at a time like this, Fluttershy, darling?” Rarity wrapped her forelegs around the pegasus in a crushing embrace. She squeaked in response. “You can’t leave me, not until I have had the time to grieve for my crushed dreams. You simply can’t! You mustn’t!”

“I promise I won’t,” Fluttershy squeaked again, carefully extricating herself from the sobbing unicorn’s grip. “I’m right here for as long as you need me, if this is where you want me to be.”

“We wouldn’t have you anywhere else, Fluttershy! We all want you right here with us, and then we can all help each other!” Pinkie Pie’s voice, bright and airy, was an unexpected lilt in the conversation, but the pink mare was inattentively chewing on something the two ponies couldn’t quite make out. Rarity chose not to concern herself with it, resting her head on Fluttershy’s withers once more, but the yellow pegasus’ eyes remained focus on Pinkie, idly playing with the cutlery on the table.

The only other mare with her eyes trained on the pink pony was their little group’s leader, Twilight Sparkle, lavender unicorn and personal protégé to the Princess herself. She’d had, arguably, the least terrible night of the group, though not all that positive even by those lax standards, and that left her in the position of carer for the five distraught ponies.

It looked like very few of them needed it, in truth. Rarity had a tendency for histrionics, and her exaggerated emotional theatrics, though deeply depressing, would ultimately resolve themselves with Fluttershy’s help. Twilight couldn’t help but hope that with Fluttershy’s help, things would end up even better for those two, but she didn’t place too much stock in whimsy and fancy. Better to offer what prayers she could and leave it at that. She still had her dress designs, after all, which had proven surprisingly popular; she’d be bouncing back in no time, ready to make her mark on Canterlot elsewhere. Twilight would find another way for Fluttershy to see the gardens in the meantime, perhaps abuse her powers as the Princess’s aide if necessary.

Twilight had the most sympathy for Applejack. Her motives for going to the Gala had been close to selfless, and she’d worked so hard in preparation for it that it broke her heart to see her friend’s heart broken. All that food, gone to waste. Most of it made up the banquet in front of them, but still, letting the family eat it hadn’t been Applejack’s intention in the first place. Besides that Wonderbolt she’d mentioned, she’d come away with nothing.

Rainbow Dash, on the other hoof, had done fairly well for herself. Nothing so glamorous as she’d wanted, but the Wonderbolts knew who she was, and she was in with them well enough to be noticed. That one mare she’d been constantly yammering on about, Spitfire, seemed to have taken an interest in her, and that was all she’d wanted, so good for her.

In the end, they’d all been crushed, but Applejack and Pinkie Pie had taken the brunt of the blow. Pinkie hadn’t known a thing about formal event etiquette, how could she be faulted for obeying the call to party? Her own personal call of duty? She’d tried to make people happy. How was she to know that stuck-up stuffed shirts were incapable of joy?

Pinkie looked like she was about to break down at any moment. Twilight was more than a little afraid of having to deal with despondent Pinkie again, but she didn’t want to rock the boat and risk being responsible for it - so, she chose to let her fears rule her, and stayed quiet. It seemed like the most appropriate course.

“Umm,” said Fluttershy, and Twilight couldn’t help but marvel at how eloquent she could be at times.

“‘Umm’ pretty much says it all, sugarcube,” the orange earth pony sighed, and with that, she dug into her food, a platter of soups, sweets and savouries that made Twilight’s mouth water.

“As the Gelds would say,” Rarity laughed, a mirthless, dry titter that made Twilight’s heart clench, “bon appetit, ma petit famille!”

After a few minutes of idle chatter, as Twilight ruminated over her thoughts and the delicious morsel of fried cabbage stuck between her teeth, the sound of a knock on a window coming from upstairs caught the attention of everyone at the table.

“Sounds like we got us an unusual visitor,” Applejack said, scratching the top of her head with a hoof. The hat on the back of her chair seemed wildly misplaced. “Mac, mind runnin’ on up there and finding out who it is?”

“Sure,” the stallion replied, casually rising from his seat. It still shocked Twilight how he was so huge, and yet only a year or so older than his sister. “I’ll be back in a second, y’all feel free to carry on.”

“Heavens, dear, why ever would we do something so uncouth?” The way Rarity batted her long, beautiful eyelashes at the stallion made Twilight chuckle, but he reacted very differently, blushing so brightly the girls could see it through his coat. “Surely you would never think we lack the decorum to wait upon the return of our fine gentlecolt host?”

“Uh,” was all the stallion managed to get out before bounding up the stairs. At the table, Rarity shook her head and pouted, twirling a strand of hair in one hoof.

“I expected a more pronounced reaction,” she groaned. “Am I losing my touch?”

“Oh, no, no,” Fluttershy soothed her, staring deeply into her eyes. Rarity pulled back ever so slightly, but kept looking, entranced. “You’re still so pretty, Rarity, you know that.”

“You’re too kind, Fluttershy,” was the response, the effects of Fluttershy’s Stare shattering like a glass pane. A part of Twilight’s mind, a particularly attentive one, acknowledged the sound of cracking glass somewhere. Perhaps upstairs. “I absolutely don’t want to even contemplate where I would be without you. The thought is paralyzing!”

Murmuring broke out around the table. The only silent ponies were Pinkie Pie, still brooding over her meagre portion of food, and Applebloom, curiously glancing between Pinkie and the staircase every now and then. Twilight couldn’t make out much of what was being said, aside from the occasional shout from Rainbow Dash, and boredom soon had her tapping her hind hooves on the floor in anticipation. What was going on?

“Hey, Twilight?”

“Hmm?” Applebloom’s sweet, foalish country twang made her impossible to mistake. Twilight leant over to make herself more easily audible. “What is it, Applebloom, sweetie?”

“I was just wonderin’,” the filly replied, a note of confusion slipping into her tone, “why’s Pinkie Pie so sad? Usually she’s the life of the party, but today it’s like she’s the death of it instead!”

“That’s pretty harsh, Applebloom,” Twilight rebuked her, waving a reproachful hoof in the air. “Pinkie just had a hard time at the Gala. I really wish she could have had her best night ever, I wish we all could have, but for now, we just have to let her be for a while. When she’s ready, we’ll take to her.”

“But Twilight,” now Applebloom seemed a little desperate, a pleading look in her big orange eyes, “you told me and Spike that we should,” the yellow filly paused to take a deep breath, and continued, imitating Twilight as best she could in what was a pretty solid effort, “‘never turn our backs on a friend when they need us, because that’s the fastest way to lose a friend.’”

“I’m pretty sure I was talking about secrets and trust,” the lavender unicorn said, scanning the table with her eyes to make sure Pinkie hadn’t gone, “but you’re right, Applebloom. Pinkie needs us all. I’ll talk to her, I promise.”

“Thanks, Twilight!” The wide, innocent grin on the filly’s face made it all worthwhile for Twilight Sparkle. “I bet if you told Pinkie Pie how you feel about her, she’d be real pleased, and then she’d forget all about that silly frou-frou party!”

“How I feel about her?” Twilight blanched. What was she supposed to say? How did Applebloom know, for that matter? “What are you talking about?”

“Hey, now hold on just a minute there, missy!” Applejack’s abrupt roar made Twilight flinch, her head twisting around further than she had previously believed physically possible for a pony to catch a view of Applejack pulling Rainbow Dash into a headlock. “You take that back right now and say uncle or I’ll have you trussed up like a chicken in a jiffy!”

“Yeah, sure you will!” Dash almost seemed to be gloating, despite being completely incapable of escaping the earth pony’s grip. “You couldn’t outshine me if I was grey, AJ, just like you can’t beat me as an athlete! So stop tryin’! Everyone knows I’m the best pony in Ponyville, no, in Equestria!”

“Best pony, my flank!”

“Your boy-flank, yeah!”

Twilight couldn’t help but snicker at that.

“Twi!” The two arguing ponies shouted in unison, both of them almost immediately grovelling at her hooves. “You gotta help us out!” They proceeded to launch into a long-winded chorus of how one was better than the other, how the other could take their boasting and put it where the sun don’t shine, and so on. Apparently their competitiveness, defused so much after the Running of the Leaves, had ignited into a beacon of fire once more. Twilight thought it was almost poetic.

“What is it, you two? What do you expect me to do?”

“Oh, well, um, if you don’t mind letting me explain, Twilight,” Fluttershy interrupted, raising a hoof for attention, “Rainbow Dash and Applejack were arguing about the pony that knocked on the window upstairs. He’s here now.”

“Oh, really?” Twilight had been so engrossed in her own thoughts and conversations she hadn’t noticed the pony that seemed to be partaking in the feast a bit too much, face buried in the last of a stack of apple pies almost as tall as the chair. Whoever it was had some stomach. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there! I’m Twilight Sparkle!”

The blue pegasus stopped chewing, blinked twice, and then pulled his face from the pie, looking at her with an expression of quiet contemplation. Next to him, Big Mac took the opportunity to steal the pie, digging in with his own set of cutlery.

“Delicious,” the red stallion chuckled. “You just keep gettin’ better, AJ. This a new recipe?”

“Eeyup,” the orange mare laughed, settling back into her seat next to the newcomer. Rainbow Dash, at the other end of the table, was a cross between furious and tragic. Twilight felt her heart go out to the poor pegasus.

“I think it’s cool, miss Dash,” the blue pegasus grinned. “Your language and behaviour are as colourful as your mane and tail! You’re a real showboater!”

“Hey, thanks!” That was strange. Dash never blushed, not even at the most raunchy suggestions. Curious. “I’ll show you some more of my tricks some time, if you’re interested, I’ve got a lot of ‘em!”

“I’d love to learn how to do a Sonic Rainboom,” was the reply, spluttered through a mouthful of cake. Pinkie’s specialty, and Twilight’s favourite. Casting a glance over at the pink earth pony, Twilight melted a little inside when she saw her rolling a blanched tomato around her plate with a hoof, uninterested in the rest of their conversation.

“That’s sort of my personal trick,” Rainbow said, gaze firmly locked on the blue pony. Next to him Applejack was sorting through a salad with an oversized wooden spoon, noncommittally poking at bits and pieces of it; no one seemed to be hungry but the blue pegasus any more, and he was ravenous, devouring everything put in front of him. Soon enough they’d be pretty much out.

“Let me go get some drinks for everypony,” Twilight chimed in, smiling awkwardly. She was sure everyone but the pegasus could tell. “What would you like, uh...”

“Hey!” Realisation flashed across the pegasus’ face. “I never told you my name, did I?”

“No,” Twilight muttered grimly.

“It’s Soarin'!” He sat up a little straighter at that, and flashed her another movie-star grin. Pearly white teeth, blue mane, light blue coat...she recognised the name...

Suddenly understanding hit Twilight like a ton of bricks falling from the peak of a tall castle tower. Or a spire. It was a poor simile either way.

“You’re the Wonderbolt, aren’t you?”

“Twi!” Dash hissed, under her breath, just loud enough for the lavender unicorn to hear. “Not so loud! You’re gonna ruin my chances with this guy!”

“Sorry!” She mumbled back, abashed. “I’ll just grab Pinkie and get going now. What would you like, Soarin'?”

“It’s cool, I’m fine with whatever!” The pegasus was surprisingly amiable, leaning back in his chair. His laid-back posture looked remarkably unthreatening, and he seemed like a nice enough guy, but she couldn’t help but worry about Dash. Considering how she’d reacted to the Wonderbolts previously, having one alone and at her mercy seemed like a dangerous proposal indeed.

“Alright, we’ll be back in a second. Come on, Pinkie!”

“Okay, Twilight! Let’s mosey!” With a hop, skip and jump, Pinkie bounced from her chair and over to the doorway, almost looking reinvigorated. The sight both unnerved and calmed the poor purple unicorn.

“Hey, she’s got a nice technique!” Soarin' laughed as they saw themselves out.


“So, Soarin', if you don’t mind the rather personal question, what brings you to our delightful neck of the woods?”

Rarity seemed to be almost preening under the attentions of the two males. Soarin’s eyes kept darting around, almost uncannily aware of changes in the world around him, while Big Mac was keeping them averted as much as possible, only looking when he thought it’d be safe. It never was, everypony knew that, but they politely chose not to point it out, instead focusing on the delectable array of beverages Pinkie and Twilight had supplied. Exotic ground coffee beans from the Wastes in the Northern Kingdoms, tea leaves cultivated in the arable grasslands of the far east by the indigenous crow population, even sweet sodas crafted lovingly by drink-artists across the globe, the two had supplied with aplomb. Now, sat around the table in much more comfortable, quiet company, they finally had the chance to sit the alarmingly tense and nervous pegasus down and get his story from him.

“So, uh, Soarin',” Twilight began, “I hear you’re a Wonderbolt! What’s that like?”

“Nice icebreaker, Twilight! You’re really doing well today!” Next to her, Pinkie was practically clapping, hooves flailing about in excitement. Somehow, something had happened in the intervening hours that had brought her spirits up to an even more exuberant state than usual; now she was giddy, shaking in her seat, and if one looked close enough, in constant contact with the lavender mare next to her. Applejack felt like the only one who’d noticed.

“It’s all good,” he smiled back, taking a sip from his drink, a weak mixer of pure rock-salt and fresh spring water from Neighbraska. Enough to give a pony a buzz, not enough to knock them stupid. “Right now I’m kind of in hiding.”

“In hiding?” Dash looked scandalised. “From what? What would a Wonderbolt, the coolest of the cool, ever have to hide from? Just tell me and I’ll go right out there and get rid of it for ya!”

“There’s only one thing we stunt fliers are afraid of,” the colt laughed in response, “and that’s more stunt fliers. My boss has it in for me, so I’m taking a coupla days unpaid leave here in Ponyville until she cools off.”

“Your boss? You mean Spitfire?” That puzzled the rainbow-maned pegasus. “Is that okay? Can you just do that? That’s so cool!”

“Hey, we’re cool ponies,” the Wonderbolt chuckled, kicking back in his seat. Next to him, Applejack groaned.

“Don’t do that to my good cushions,” she sighed, aggravated. Soarin’s face twisted into an expression of contrition for just long enough to make Applejack feel guilty, then quickly melted back into apathetic leisure. “I’m serious now, they belonged to my parents! Don’t make me make y’all sit on the floor, flyboy!”

“Flyboy?” At that the pegasus looked amused. “That’s a new one. Not the best I ever heard, but new. Surely a smart filly like you’s got better than that?”

“I’ll give you better than that, you gosh-darned-”

“Applejack!” This time it was Rarity’s turn to look scandalised. “You entertain the company of civilised ponies, not to mention your sister! Please at least try to keep the vulgarity to a minimum?”

“Shoot,” Applejack mumbled, face reddening, “I plum forgot. Sorry, lil’ Bloom.”

“It’s okay, sis,” the filly said, glancing curiously over at the pegasus, who was now watching Applejack with an amused expression. “Hey, Mister Soarin'!”

“What’s up, filly?”

“I was just thinkin’ about your Cutie Mark!”

At that the whole group turned their eyes to Soarin', who stood, more than a little measure of pride in his defiant stance, and turned to the side, showing off the goods. Dash and Fluttershy ooh-ed and aah-ed appreciatively, the latter more out of kindness than awe, but Applebloom looked transfixed, eyes travelling across the unusual design and drinking it in.

Just like any other pony, Soarin’s Cutie Mark was emblazoned on his flank, a badge of honour that spoke more of his character than any words or actions could. A golden javelin with a wreath of orange feathers wrapped around the shaft cut through a splash of clear, cold water, so fluid and detailed that it almost seemed to move on its own when the pony it represented did.

“What does it mean?” Applebloom couldn’t take her eyes off the picture, so vivid and enthralling it was, but the pegasus just smiled.

“It’s a bit complicated,” was his answer, as he rose to his hooves again, standing tall and proud. No Big Mac, certainly, but a pony with stature nonetheless.

“But I wanted to hear so I could get my Cutie Mark too!”

“You’ll get it someday, kid,” Soarin' quipped, heading towards the door. “Right now, though, I have to find somewhere to stay for the night. It’s getting dark.”

Outside, the dusky reds of the late evening were beginning to fade into darker hues of blue and indigo. As the sun fell, the last light of day snuffed out, the rising moon and the twinkling stars illuminating the night, Soarin' stepped out into the night time.

Leaving the barn behind was his first intent, but the sound of plodding hoofsteps behind him made him turn around.

“Leaving so soon?” Rainbow Dash, the rainbow-maned pegasus that had saved his life in Cloudsdale and his pie at the Gala, if he recalled correctly. A really nice filly, though too much like Spitfire to ever be his type. “Where’re you headed? What does a Wonderbolt do on their vacation time!”

“Lots of stuff, just like anypony else,” he shot back, chuckling. Rainbow Dash giggled, a squeaky, completely out-of-place sound that was way too scratchy for a girl her age, and he could swear she was mouthing ‘oh my gosh’ over and over again under her breath, but he was used to dealing with groupies in the past. They were a bit a dozen, and the girl had talent. Easily enough to be a Wonderbolt someday, maybe even the next Captain if she tried hard enough.

Soarin' was probably the closest thing she had to an easy in, and though another pegasus may have taken advantage of that fact, he saw himself as accomplished enough, and respectable enough, to not need to, or even to want to.

Although that Applejack mare was darn gorgeous, to put it bluntly...A lustrous orange coat, flaxen mane and tail, voluptuous body with strongly-defined muscles, sensuous country belle accent (much as she might have tried to deny it), and a flank that just refused to quit. Even her face, usually the killer among that sort of girl, from Soarin’s experience, was the sort that a guy like him would fight for. Delightful little freckles, cute dimples, inescapable green eyes; the list went on, for way longer than should have been fair to any other mare.

A girl like that would be way too good to give up. And from what conversation they’d shared? No contest! She was perfect. That was all there was to it.

Time to buck me an Apple!

“Actually, seeing as I’m in town...” he hoped the smirk on his face didn’t give her the wrong idea. How could he not rejoice at the opportunity that had just dropped into his lap? Like catching fish in a barrel. Easy pickings. “I was hoping you’d help me out a little bit.”

“Yes!” Dash whispered under her breath, barely managing to restrain a hoof-pump. This was her shot! Whatever this Wonderbolt wanted, she would do. Nothing could possibly be too much to ask. Not when her dreams were on the line. “I’ll do whatever! Even if you want me to clear the sky on my own for the next month, or do ten Sonic Rainbooms! I can handle anything you need!”

“Nothing so challenging as that, kid.”

“Then what? What could you possibly have in mind for the one and only Rainbow Dash?”

“All right, here’s the deal. You get me a date with your friend, Applejack, and I’ll get you a date with my friend, Spitfire.”

“Oh, horse-apples,” Dash forced herself to stammer after a prolonged silence, before she froze up completely, leaving Soarin' to poke and prod at her under the evening summer sky.