Humphrey Dinklehuegen and the Talking Horses

by Unwhole Hole

Chapter 4: The Next Day

A bright sunbeam shown on Sweetie Belle’s face, and she stirred.

“Come on Rarity…I wanna sleep…” Unable to resist the light, though, Sweetie Belle eventually woke up completely. She blinked and smiled- -until she remembered where she was. “Road apples,” she swore.

For a moment, she had thought she might be back in her own bed in her own dimension. Which was not to say that the cot she had been given was uncomfortable. She had slept on worse, and the blankets were soft and smelled of lavender. Not the fake lavender, the real stuff.

Shifting her body, Sweetie Belle got out of bed. She shivered slightly; it was chillier than it had been before. Even slightly colder, though, the “barn” was far from the drafty wooden building that sat on Applebloom’s farm. It certainly was large, and superficially looked like a barn from the outside. Inside, though, it seemed to be mostly dedicated to Sunflower’s various hobbies. As Sweetie Belle exited her stall, she passed a large storage area filled with food and dried herbs, as well as a rack of perfectly labeled and organized astronometrical equipment.

“That’s a lot of sextants,” said Sweetie Belle, passing several workbenches, all organized and perfectly neat. She paused only when she saw one area where a number of scraps and fabric were present- -and where a large and ornate saddle was set on a working stand where Sunflower had apparently forgotten to put it away.

Trixie still seemed to be asleep. Weirdly, though, she was not in her bed but beside it in a pile of straw. She was hugging a large portion of the straw and smiling.

“Oh Starlight,” she said to herself, “yes, Trixie’s coat is super soft. No, I don’t mind if you touch it…”

“Oi!” yelled Sweetie Belle, striking Trixie on the flank with a weak static spell. The sound was surprisingly large, and Trixie squealed as she awoke with a start.

“What- -where- -who- -it wasn’t me! Trixie is innocent!”

“Wake up,” said Sweetie Belle.

“Awake? Trixie isn’t- -” Trixie seemed to be realizing where she was, and looked down at the straw she was holding. She groaned and then threw the ball of material at Sweetie Belle. “I was having the best dream! And this time Luna wasn’t there to make me learn ‘lessons’. Why did you wake me up?”

“Because it’s time to wake up. The sun just came up.”

“Sun- -Trixie does not wake up until at least four! PM!” Trixie rolled to the side and under her cot. She then reached out with her magic and pulled her remaining straw around her, sealing off the space beneath the bed.

Sweetie Belle shrugged. She went to the end of the barn and then outside. The air hit her, and although it was definitely cold, it felt good. The sky was still gray and everything was wet, but it was not actively raining. The grass in the outer fields looked so green and even slightly tasty.

Ignoring the grass- -Rarity said it was uncouth for ponies to eat grass- -Sweetie Belle began to sing. Her song echoed off the dew-covered trees and broke the misty silence. She continued for several minutes as she woke up, and then reduced her volume as she trotted past Sunflower’s greenhouse and outdoor gardens back toward the centaur’s house.

The song terminated with a flourish as Sweetie Belle approached the back door. She knew that centaurs were evil, but Sunflower seemed more perpetually perturbed than explicitly diabolical. Sweetie Belle was still on the fence about her, but decided that it would at least help to try to be friendly.

She knocked gently on the back door. “Sunflower? Are you awake?” She spoke loud enough to be heard, but not enough to wake her up if she was still sleeping.

There was a click of hooves behind the door, and Sweetie Belle suddenly felt nervous. She had an urge to run back to the barn, but the door opened before she could begin the sprint.

Sunflower opened the door, and Sweetie Belle froze, not out of fear but out of surprise. The somewhat terrifying centaur of the night before had been replaced with one who looked surprisingly ordinary. She was dressed not in a heavily starched blouse but a baggy T-shirt, a green and silver scarf, and a set of high socks.

“Oh, Sweetie Belle,” she said. “You’re up. I’m surprised. Usually children like to sleep in.”

“I’ve always been more of a morning person.”

“Well, come in,” said Sunflower, gesturing. “I’m making breakfast right now. I’m not really sure what you eat, but I’m assuming that you’re a vegetarian. You can help if you want.”

“That’s not the best idea,” said Sweetie Belle. “My cooking has been described as…superfund.”

Despite this, she followed Sunflower into the cottage.

“I apologize about the temperature,” said the centaur, walking to the nearby kitchen. “I don’t heat at night. It consumes too much wood, and technically, as a centaur, I could walk around naked in the middle of winter without much caring. Like the rest of them.”

“It’s fine,” said Sweetie Belle.

“Say, was that you singing a few moments ago?”

“Oh,” said Sweetie Belle. “You heard that? Yeah. It’s something I’m really passionate about. I’m actually positioning myself for a music career back in Equestria.”

“Well, with a voice like that, it should not be terribly difficult for you. It was wonderful to wake up to a sound like that, and not Dinkelhugen screaming at inanimate objects or Ivan having lit himself on fire again.”

“Ivan? Who is Ivan?”

Sunflower poked at some potatoes in a pan. “He lives over in the ravine where muggles dump trash. He’s a bit…addled? Or sozzled? Or a combination of the two. I don’t know. Just don’t go near him.”

“Noted,” said Sweetie Belle, feeling slightly nervous that a deranged weirdo worse than Humph might have been wandering the woods while she slept. “You don’t seem to like your neighbors much.”

“It’s not that I actively dislike them. Ivan mostly keeps to himself, and Dinkelhuegen spends most of his time in the muggle town. Or bothering me. They’re not ideal, let’s just say that. But it’s not like I can move.”

“Why not?”

Sunflower sighed. She leaned back from the stove and gestured toward her lower body. “Have you perhaps not noticed the horse part where I should have hips?”

“So? I’m all horse.”

“Yes, and in a society of horses, that’s fine. But what would your people think if I were to walk down your streets?”

“They’d…” They would be afraid, but Sweetie Belle did not want to say that.

“That’s right. They’d go running. Pull in their welcome mats, hide the fillies and colts. Well, guess what? Muggles would do the same if they saw me. If I were even legally allowed to go near them. And wizards…to them, I’m just a dumb animal.”

“You don’t seem like a dumb animal. You don’t look like Trixie at all.”

Sunflower did not laugh. “Yeah…”

The room fell silent, and the silence became extremely awkward. Sweetie Belle sat down and tried to find something to talk about.

“So…” she said. She noticed Sunflower’s scarf. “Is that from a sports team?”

Sunflower looked down at the scarf. “Oh…I forgot I had this on.” She took it off and folded it neatly. “But yes. I know I’m too old to be following student quidditch, but I have a soft spot for the Slytherin team.” She smiled nostalgically. “I actually tried out for it, too. I can’t fly a broom worth beans, though, and apparently beaters aren’t supposed to kneecap other players when no one is watching. They kicked me out after a week.”

“You were a student? Where?”

“You seriously- -oh. Sorry. Interdimensional unicorn. I mean Hogwarts. It’s the primary wizarding school of the United Kingdom.”

“Oh. We have something like that in Equestria. It’s really hard to get into, though.”

“I would only surmise, yes. Hogwarts is not easy to get into either. Just look at Dinklehuegen. He never went. Most wizards don’t.”

“But you did.”

“Yes. And I did spectacularly until they kicked me out.”

“You can’t have done that well if you got das boot.”

“That means ‘the boat’. And Hogwarts doesn’t give a snill’s earlobe about how well you do in classes. As soon as they found out I wasn’t human, they kicked me to the curb like the trash they claimed I was.”

“Wait- -you hid that?” Sweetie Belle pointed toward Sunflower’s horse butt. “It can’t be a very good school if they didn’t notice, you know, the nine hundred pounds of horse.”

“I only weigh eight hundred and seventy pounds, thank you very much. And that’s only because Dinklehuegen is actually slightly competent at baking. But no. I hid that aspect of myself.”

“How?”

“Polyjuice potion. Gallons of it. For almost two years. Until my genetic source, well, let’s just say ran out. I think they were kind of already getting suspicious. My wand, after all, was just a stick. Potions, astrology, divination, magical history, alchemical theory, rune translation, herbology, animal husbandry, wizardic law, I could do them all better than any human student there. Or historically, short of Granger. But not anything that required a wand.”

“But if you couldn’t do the classes- -”

“That wasn’t the problem. I could have gotten through without it. Claimed I was a squib if I had to. But a Centaur? No. Expelled.” She sighed. “The other Slytherin tried like heck to keep me, though. That’s one thing people always forget about us, we’re intensely loyal to each other. You have to be when you’re the best. They even started pulling strings with their parents, but Headmaster McGonagall’s hands were tied. Not that she even really tried. The Ministry wouldn’t let a ‘filthy non-human’ associate with their precious future drones.”

“At least you got two years.”

“Optimism. That’s new.”

“I’m not saying it was right. But you did lie to them- -”

“I did what I had to do to get what I shouldn’t have to fight to get. Trickery, manipulation, so what? There’s a reason I was put in Slytherin house.”

There was a slight commotion from outside. Sunflower leaned down and looked out the window. “Bloody…what is she doing?!”

She moved quickly, pushing past Sweetie Belle. Sweetie Belle followed her out the door and into the woods behind the house.

Outside, somepony was singing. Not in words or even notes, like Sweetie Belle had, but in bird song. Sweetie Belle looked up to see Fluttershy prancing about between the trees, laughing with a swarm of bizarre, perfectly spherical golden hummingbirds.

“By Merlin’s gravel-filled left ureter,” said Sunflower, stepping forward. “Those…those are golden snidgets!”

“Aren’t they just adorable?” said Fluttershy. “They’re so fat!” One of the birds quibbled angrily. “Oh, sorry. I mean fluffy, and quite physically fit underneath their extremely glossy and well-preened feathers.”

“But they’re nearly extinct! Especially this far north- -how did you- -”

“Oh, they were so afraid at first. Not nearly as much as I was. But they saw me training the other birds, and- -”

“Other birds?”

Fluttershy whistled. Hundreds of birds descended from the trees and onto and around her. Then, adding to them, an enormous buzzard dropped down and landed on Fluttershy’s back. It hissed angrily at Sunflower.

“Gregory!” said Fluttershy, her legs shaking from the weight of the warty and ugly bird. “There’s no need for such harsh language!” The vulture actually looked somewhat ashamed. Fluttershy turned to Sunflower and Sweetie Belle. “He just has the most darling family! We had breakfast together. I helped regurgitate it for his adorable little featherless chicks.”

“Um, eew,” said Sweetie Belle. “Seriously. EEW.”

“So I guess you won’t be having breakfast with us,” said Sunflower.

“Oh, I’d hate to be rude. I’ll be there, just in a few minutes.” The buzzard flapped its wings, and began to carry Fluttershy off. Her cloud of small spherical snidgets followed her as she was removed.

“Um…okay,” said Sunflower. She looked down at Sweetie Belle. “Is that…normal?”

“Not at all,” said Sweetie Belle. “Not at all…”

With breakfast eaten, the three ponies made their way back to Humph’s house. The walk was not especially grueling, but it was long, and being filled with Sunflower’s unusually delicious cooking- -or in Fluttershy’s case, whatever it was that vultures ate- -the sun was already mostly up by the time they reached the house.

“It looks even worse during the day,” bemoaned Trixie.

“Dilapidated. Yes,” said Sweetie Belle. “And what kind of a weirdo lives in a house way out on the outskirts of town?”

“Ahem,” said Fluttershy.

“I think that answers your question,” said Trixie. She yawned. “Can we hurry this up? Trixie needs her beauty sleep.”

“She needs a LOT of it, clearly,” said Sweetie Belle.

“Indeed, she does- -HEY!”

When they reached the house, though, Humph did not answer his door. Confused, the ponies made their way to the rear. At first, they did not see anything- -but then a shout echoed through the midmorning quiet.

“COME BACK HERE YOU SO I CAN SWAT YOU!”

Almost as soon as Humph yelled, a large number of rotund, hairy rodent creatures jumped out of his garden and started sprinting awkwardly across the ground, their long pale locks trailing behind them as they waddled.

Humph leapt up on the other side of the garden, standing on his rock wall and waving a flyswatter, his eyes wild with rage. “Get out of my garden!” He leapt down, chasing the creatures away from his precious mandrakes.

Almost as soon as he did, Fluttershy shot up into his face. “What do you think you’re doing?!” she demanded.

“I’m flushing the haggis out of my garden! Look what they did to the foliage, and my roses!”

Sweetie Belle looked to where he was pointing. “Um…that’s silverleaf nightshade.”

“Well that explains why the rose hips tasted so…toxic.”

“That doesn’t give you an excuse to chase these adorable little creatures!” Fluttershy picked one of the fleeing things up, and then recoiled. “Smelly creatures!”

“I know. Those are haggis. They’re what haggis is made out of. And come on, what damage am I going to do with this?” Humph raised the fly swatter.

“You’re scaring them half to death! You could try to be a little nicer!”

Humph sighed. “Nicer? You want to see what happens if I try to be nice? Fine.” He threw down his flyswatter and stepped into the middle of the garden. “Oi, haggis!” he said, spreading his arms. “Would you please leave my mandrakes alone?”

The haggis looked up at him, then at each other, and then up at him again. Without warning, they all leapt on him, tackling him to the ground.

“EEEEEEPPP!” he screamed several octaves higher than even Sweetie Belle could manage. “They’re touching me they’re TOUCHING ME!!”

“No, little haggis, please,” said Fluttershy. They were not listening. “Please don’t- -now listen- -I don’t want to be assertive unless I absolutely have to.” The haggis still did not respond. “HAGGIS!” cried Fluttershy. They stopped devouring Humph and stared at her. She spread her eyes wide, and the haggis immediately became stupefied and dropped off.

Humph sat up. He was covered in scratches but largely unharmed. “What did you do?”

“Oh my… I believe I may have used the Stare…”

“Are you done using it yet?” asked Sweetie Belle, her eyes covered. She lowered her hoof, and realizing that Trixie was rather stiff looking, poked her. Trixie fell over, completely stupefied like the rodents.

It took nearly half an hour to carry out and stack the frozen haggis at a distance, and to unthaw Trixie. After that, Humph fetched some new clothing form inside his house and led the trio of ponies to his garage. When he threw it open, the ponies gawked.

“Have you ever cleaned this?” said Sweetie Belle. “In like, a century?”

“No,” said Humph as a spider the size of a cat squirmed out of the garage, causing Trixie to scream and jump and Fluttershy to coo as it crawled up onto her head.

“Hold on,” said Humph, stepping into the mass of dusty junk. “I just got to…ow- -wait! No- -eew, how old is that…when did I get a washing machine? Oh, there it is…nope MOVING! Oh, okay, there.”

The entire contents of the garage collapsed, and Humph was pushed out. He stood up, holding an extremely dust and worn push broom out in front of him. “Tada!”

“A broom? Are we going to sweep?”

“I think it’s clear that he doesn’t do that,” said Trixie, still cowering from the large spider on Fluttershy’s head that was beginning to lay eggs.

“This isn’t a sweeping broom…I think. It’s a flying broom!”

“Flying broom,” said Sweetie Belle. “Seriously? You actually expect me to believe that?”

“Oh, come on,” said Humph, straddling the broom. “The Chief Broomden is a classic broom model! And so sturdy! And it can even go three knots in a five knot tailwind!”

“What’s a knot?” asked Fluttershy.

“I don’t know! Isn’t it great?” Humph kicked his foot, and the broom released a thundering clatter. A plume of dust came from its worn bristles, and it lifted off the ground slightly. “Come on! It’s broomtastick!”

Sweetie Belle looked at the others, and then got on. “Whoa!” she said, grabbing onto Humph’s back. “It’s vibrating! That is a WEIRD feeling!”

“I know, right?”

“Is that…is that really necessary?” said Fluttershy, looking at the broom suspiciously. “Can’t we walk? Or do something…safer? And less terrifying?”

“Well, I would, but I ate all my floo powder. So no.”