Moving On ~ Chapter Two
I gallop through the night for all I'm worth. My pounding hooves send mud splashing in every direction, and every step sinks and slides beneath me. Bursting from the alley, I cut a hard left turn—slipping only a little—and make a beeline for the massive tree in the clearing ahead. Between huge breaths and the sharp pain in my side, I lower my head and gallop all-out, the heavy rain pounding on my ragged cloak. Only magic guides my steps as I dodge, jump and weave.
Finally, I reach the door, opening it with a bright glow and not slowing a bit as I hurtle into the treehouse. Locking my legs, I come to a sliding halt, spin around, and slam the heavy oak door shut, leaning against it as I try to fill my burning lungs. I'm rather fond of air, and my lungs are insisting we aren't getting enough of it.
“Sweetie Belle!” The deep voice startles me, making me jump. “What the hell—are you alright?! What happened to you?”
Still gasping, I pull a forehoof along my face, wiping away the grime and rainwater, whipping it down into the puddle that’s steadily growing around me. I stand shakily, meeting the adolescent dragon’s eyes.
Spike has really grown over the years, his frame becoming remarkably angular and sharp. He goes around on four legs more often than not these days—which is good—because even on all fours his height already topped Big Mac’s by a good hoof and a half.
Narrowing his eyes, Spike steps forward, his wings unfurling in a gesture of concern… or anger. It’s harder to tell with dragons. “Sweetie,” his voice rumbles, growing more urgent. “Where is Twilight?”
I can fully understand why he is so concerned as I look down at myself. Dripping wet, my once-beautiful, rich brown cloak with its wide hood hangs sopping wet, rough tears along the sides, scorched holes still smoking lightly—Rarity is going to be furious, a high-pitched voice in the back of my head notes. I raise my hoof to forestall him, when he rushed past me with such speed that I could only call out his name before he was out the door. Whatever comforting words were on my tongue disappeared as I yelled, “Spike! No! Don’t, she’s—“
The purple flash is bright as a bolt of lightning, and I clench my eyes against it. The young dragon flies back into the treehouse, the force of the magical mine detonating sends him tumbling across the floor, energy arching across his body.
“Spike!” a voice not my own cries out. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the air warp and shimmer. I take a wide stance as my horn automatically cast a half dozen warding and defensive spells. Twilight Sparkle, Archmage of Canterlot, pays me no attention as she rushes toward her ‘little brother,’ her well-cut robes flowing about her—completely dry robes, I note with some small resentment. She comes to a halt, kneels down next to him and shakes his shoulder with a hoof, calling his name all the while.
He props himself up on an elbow; one sharp-taloned hand going to his head as he lets out a groan. “T-Twilight? What’s going on?”
After seeing that he’s okay, Twilight visibly relaxes and casts me an appraising glance. I narrow my eyes. “Not bad, Sweetie. You not only managed to rapid-teleport out of the combat zone, but were clever enough to detect every trap on the way here… well, every one related to the test, at any rate. When you rushed through the door, you triggered the snap-spell that tells me when somepony has opened the library’s front door. Given that it is three in the morning, it wasn’t much a guess as to who it was, and thus where you were.” Her voice takes on a slightly sharper edge. “I’m a bit disappointed you didn’t notice when I teleported into the kitchen, despite the dampening and invisibility spells I had already engaged.”
I have to admit, she presents something of an amusing picture at the moment, one half of her regarding me sternly, the other—which her conscious mind seems wholly unaware of—still kneeling protectively near Spike, one hoof absently resting on his shoulder. The dragon himself merely lies there, taking in the scene with a bemused, if slightly annoyed expression.
Twilight’s eyes narrow a bit as she voices her final appraisal. “Seven out of ten.” She smiles, her stern features melting into an expression of approval and warmth. “Not bad at all, my little apprentice.”
I don’t relax my stance an inch, a gamut of contained spells still charged and ready. She lets out a small laugh and nods. “Training over.”
I collapse in a heap, the past four hours catching up to me in a wave.
A minute later, I open my eyes to see Twilight helping Spike to his feet, apologizing profusely while he grumbles a torrent of complaints.
The muffled sound of an explosion in the distance catches everypony’s—and dragon’s—attention; Twilight whips her head around, staring in the direction of the sound, her eyes wide.
"You didn't deactivate the mines?!" I ask in disbelief.
Twilight lets out a panicked sound and disappears in a flash of purple light.
-----
"She didn't deactivate the mines?!" Scootaloo's incredulous voice rings out, her eyes wide as she stares at me from across the table.
I laugh. "I know, she's so embarrassed!"
Scootaloo is less amused. Glowering at me, in fact. "Why are you laughing?! Somepony could have gotten seriously hurt! I've seen the two of you practice, and I ain’t gonna lie—it’s kinda scary."
I wave a hoof. "They were only stun-mines, limited packets of disruptive energy. No more. And how could anypony know that Applejack would pick this of all mornings to set up her stall before dawn?"
Scootaloo gapes at me. "Are you kidding me? AJ triggered it?!" Her expression is torn between horror and hilarity. Scoots' natural reaction to anything is to laugh at it, no matter how serious. It’s a trait of hers I find both endearing and infuriating, but this time the tables are turned, and she doesn't like it one bit. She looks so adorable with her bed-raggled mane that I can't resist, and break down laughing at her.
"Sweetie! This is serious! Is AJ okay?" she demands, pounding the table with her hoof.
I straighten up, regaining my composure and lifting my coffee from the tabletop, taking a sip. "Yeah, she's fine now. She was knocked pretty good by the spell, but you know how tough earth ponies are, Applejack in particular. " I chuckle. "Her apples were scattered everywhere. I guess she triggered the mine head on, and it sent her right back through her cart. At first she was furious, but now she just wants Twilight to leave her alone for two seconds and buy her a new wagon. Twi's been at AJ's side since it happened, and apologizing every other minute."
Scootaloo can't help but smirk at that. "So where are they now?"
"In the square. AJ's trying to sell her apples, Twilight's probably still distraught and scaring away all her customers. You know how she gets."
Scoots nods fondly, taking a drink from her own cup. I scrunch up my nose and change the subject. "How can you stand it like that? You put enough cream and sugar in it to drown a cat; you can't even taste the coffee."
It’s a long-standing thing between us, and she pinches her brows together in disgust, looking at my own cup. "Riiiight, because yours doesn't taste like charred wood at all."
We pretend to glare at one another for a moment before sharing a chuckle. Scoots leans back, half-yawning as she stretches her back against the chair, hooves raised high above her head. She lets out a satisfied moan, and I bite my lip. "So, what are you up to today?" she asks. I quickly smooth out my expression before she catches it.
"Oh, um—" I cough. "I'm..." What am I going to do today? I certainly have some plans set up for tonight, but I don't want to ruin the surprise. So naturally, I deflect. "Eh, I think after last night, I'm going to get a nap in. Just lay about the house, maybe read a book. Y'know."
She doesn't seem to catch anything amiss about my dodge, which is understandable given how much she hates mornings—something else we share—and the fact that I do look pretty ragged...
-----
I had trudged into the apartment just after daybreak. Scoots says she never sleeps well when I'm out; she woke while I was working the chain lock back into place. When I turned around, she was leaning against the frame of our bedroom door; her eyebrows raised high as she regarded me, clearly unamused. I had accrued another small lake on my trip back, which was now making its home on our floor. I offered her an embarrassed smile, reaching back and pulling my now thoroughly tattered cloak off and hang it on the peg by the door, before shaking the excess from my mane. Looking back at her, I found her ears laid back and her eyes narrowed at me. I was about to ask what her problem was—probably a bit more snappy than I'd have liked—when she turned around and trod back into our room, chuckling to herself. Huffing and wondering what her deal was, I glanced about the room and noticed the water running down the walls around me. Oops. Sighing, I grabbed a towel and cleaned up the water before giving myself a more thorough drying in the bathroom.
By the time I'd trotted wearily over to the bed, the sun was already lighting the horizon, the Apple and Carrot family's roosters going completely insane. I don't know if I'm the only pony those birds drive crazy, but I've lost count of how many times I'd lain in bed, a pillow clamped over my head, contemplating how much work it would take to hunt down and capture a couple Cockatrices, throw them in the birds' coops and then get away with the whole affair. Probably more than it was worth.
Scoots and I had awoken several hours later, the morning already pressing into early afternoon. I came to curled up against her, my back pressing into her soft chest. She had one wing draped over me—a gesture of unspoken protectiveness that melts me every time—and I snuggled back into her. She responded with an incredibly loud snort as she woke up, which caused me to go into a small paroxysm of giggles. She bit down on my ear, and I gasped. She was good at shutting me up when she wanted to. Still enwrapped within her wing and arms, I scooted around to face her, and she drew me in for deep kiss. The taste of her tongue and softness of her lips was always particularly impressive coming out of a deep sleep. Something about newly returned senses being more acute, perhaps. I lost all interest in carrying the theory further as her hoof slid along my neck and snaked down past my belly. I gasped, and she bit down on my shoulder as she rolled me onto my back.
After breakfast, by which I mean a half pot of coffee each, Scootaloo went out for her daily training sessions. I know I told her I was probably staying in, but now that she'd gone I began to feel restless. Not bored, just... restless. Warm afterglow notwithstanding. With a sudden devilish grin, I decided I knew exactly what to do: I would go pay my sister a visit, and see if she had time to fix up my cloak.
-----
"Sweetie, whatever have you done?!" my sister cries with her standard degree of melodrama.
I sigh. "I'm sorry, Sis," I say, trying to hide my grin but eager for her next overblown reaction. "Twilight only has so much time on her monthly visits, and she decided that though my curriculum was moving forward at an advanced rate, I had been extremely lacking in one particular area," I say as I trail her through the foyer into her main workroom.
"Mmhmm," Rarity hums at me, one of her ears flicking as she begins rummaging through her supplies and materials. That particular tick is one of her more amusing—and less obnoxious—traits. Her right ear always does this little flicking motion when she begins to concentrate on her craft. "And what would that be?" she asks, somewhat surprising me she had paid even that much attention. My sister tends to get more than a little absorbed in her work.
My grin spreads, and I simply say, "Combat magic." I bite my lip to stop from giggling as I wait for that to penetrate. I don’t have to wait long.
"Mmhm—bwahaa?!" I swear, she very nearly squeals. She wheels around, her eyes darting between me and my cloak as she takes in the damage done to it. "Are you... oh, Sweetie, you must be joking!" She knows I’m not. I hate it when she does that. "Combat magic, darling? We do not—I mean... really!" She stops as I just stare at her, trying to suppress my laughter.
Rallying, she tries again. "Sweetie Belle, honest-ly. I don't mean to impugn your studies, and of course I hold Twilight in the highest respect, but what in Equestria was she thinking?" Her voice begins to rise again, and I settle in to enjoy the show. "Taking my baby sister out in the dead of night, in the middle of a torrential rainstorm no less, and... and hurling fireballs at her!"
Okay, show’s over; this is getting a bit much. I am not a foal anymore. "Rarity,” I say, stomping a hoof. “I'll have you know I'm quite grown-up now, thank you very much. And I'd appreciate it if you gave me at least a little bit of credit. Twilight says I'm one of her best students." I don't like to boast, but I can't deny I felt a certain amount of pride in that. I know Twilight well enough to know she just doesn't do favoritism, and when she's playing the role of professor or archmage, she can get scary serious. Any position I currently hold, I damned-well earned it.
"Oh, Sweetie, you know I didn't mean—"
"Whatever," I say sharply, cutting her off. "Can you please just fix up my cloak?"
She looks wounded and I feel a brief pang of guilt, but her implied insult is still burning. She nods and says, "Of course. It will be good as new. Give me till tomorrow?" I nod, muttering my thanks as I turn to leave. I resist the urge to give Opal a swift kick on my way out. Barely. Dumb cat.
------
I linger in the park for a while, enjoying the warmth of the clear day, especially after last night. I finally remember to bring a book with me, and split the rest of the afternoon between reading up on a rather diverse range of magical theories, and watching the foals play and splash in the shallow waters of the pond. I’ll never understand how Twilight manages to take such a dry subject and bring it to such vibrant life under her quill. I’ve tried explaining my passion for the field to Scoots a few times, and while she follows well enough—as well as any non-unicorn can, I suppose—it just doesn’t hold the same appeal for her as it does for me. Don’t get her started on the Daring Do series though.
I slip the book back into my saddlebag and rise, wincing at a pinched nerve in my neck. I go through a couple stretches that Scootaloo taught me a while back, and am surprised as ever by how well they work. With a contented little smile, I look up to the sky and my heart leaps right into my throat. I’m utterly shocked to see how close the sun is to the horizon. Ohhhh not good! Scoots will be home in... half an hour! Gah! With a speed born of complete panic, I gather up my blanket and water bottle, shove them haphazardly into my bag, snatch it up in my teeth and vanish in a brilliant flash of magic.
The world spins momentarily as my vision clears. Long distance teleports always disorient me more than quick jumps, and I’ve never been able to figure out why. Shaking my head, I remember I’m on the clock. Aaaand this place is a wreck. Damn. I know I don’t have time to tidy up before Scootaloo gets home, but it irks me all the same. Dashing into the bedroom, I pull off my saddlebags and empty them into the closet, then throw them onto the unmade bed. I rush around to my bed stand, open the drawer, and stuff a couple key items within before slinging them over my back once more. As I barrel out of the bedroom, my shoulder catches the doorframe. I move to compensate, and my front hoof catches the tip of our rug. Suddenly I’m a screaming, wide-eyed pony that was never meant to be airborne. I crash right down and through a wicker hallway stand, coming to a tumbling halt against a wall with my head on the floor and my rump towards the ceiling. Groaning, I flop down onto my side and take in the additional mess I’ve made. I don’t have time for this! Frantically, I gather the strewn items up in my magic—pausing a moment to cast a fond glance of a framed picture of me, Scoots, and Bloom the day after we got our marks—and unceremoniously toss the lot of it into the hall closet.
I can feel the seconds creeping up on me. Scootaloo has never kept anything close to what could be called a schedule. She could be out of practice at any time, depending on how long her mid-training nap took, or end up staying until long after nightfall if she discovered a particularly challenging new trick. I can’t count how many times I’ve waited up for—Ahh! Time! Wasting it. Move! Saddlebags, where—There. I grab them up, making certain their contents are still safely within, and rush to the kitchen to scribble out a hasty note. I set three flowers atop the fold of paper, and turn toward the door. Which is, of course, right when I hear the key being slid into the lock. My ears fold back and I look left and right for some escape. Closing my eyes, I disappear once more in a flash of magic.
-----
Opening the door cautiously, Scootaloo peered inside. “Hello?” she called into the apartment, one hoof raised pensively off the ground. “Sweetie? Are you home?” She stepped into the apartment and stopped. I know I heard someone in here. “Sweetie?” No answer. Frowning, Scootaloo shucked her bags, lowering them to the floor before moving soundlessly forward. She doubted anypony would break in, but something about this situation felt wrong. She knew there was somepony in here a moment ago, but now the place appeared deserted. Stalking about the apartment, she checked the bathroom, guest room, bedroom, even the closets before she was certain there was no interloper to be pummelled.
“Huh. Weird,” she said aloud, trotting into the kitchen for a glass of water. Grasping the cup handle with her teeth, she stepped on the lever that poured fresh, cool water from the faucet. She filled her glass before turning to gather her things and sink her tired flank down on the couch. That’s when she spotted it. A letter and three flowers, sitting there on the dining room table. Scootaloo ambled over, setting her glass down and nosing open the letter. Sweetie Belle’s elegant, if obviously rushed, quillwork was etched on the paper. Scoots,
Bloom invited us over to hang out for a while. Went ahead. Meet us at the clubhouse. See you there. BYOC!
Lov Don’t forget to take a shower!!
Love,
Sweetie
Bemused, Scootaloo looked down at the three flowers laying on the table. A white rose, bright orange tulip, and red rose arranged next to one another, their stems entwined. The hell is she up to this time?
Annnd Chapter Two
I think one of my favorite parts was Twilight accidentally blowing AJ up.
1010567
I mean, who can blame her? We've all been there, right?
Loving it so far, keep it up!
I'm wondering what Sweetie's got going on as well. Nice chapter.
Yet another phenomenal work. I love it!
Another awesome chapter. Really, I love it. You're a great writer, keep it up. Can't wait for the next chapter.
Brilliant! I love it! Another!
Actually, I'm going to bed. It's late. Bye.
Not gonna lie the beginning threw me off, but once I figured out what was going on I loved it. Looking forward to Sweetie Belle's scheme, and maybe we'll see some Apple Bloom as well.
Mmmm. Sweet, sweet Scootabelle. Adorable lovemaking and an awesome action sequence.
Now I wonder what her plan is.
Only 7/10? Not sure if disappoint in Sweetie or not, considering it was a test coming from teh Twili Sparklez... I wonder how our Sweetie from TSC would do... xD
Another great chapter! Can't wait to see what happens in the clubhouse
I think I know what's going on.
Woot for update! When is the next chapter coming?!
oi49.tinypic.com/iqeccj.jpg
Awesome chapter, I wonder what Sweetie Belle has planned.
MOAR
:D I love this story!!!!!
Taking my baby sister and throwing FIREBALLS at her?!
Me:
XD Sweetie Belle and Rarity= Best pony
I love this story. Your detail is amazing and I can't say I found any errors.
I have three words for you: Keep it coming.
-Ignis
Definitely gonna be keeping an eye on this one.
Oh what a beautiful and fun little story. You're doing a great job here with the characters and the humor. I'm definately enjoying it and I'm looking forward to what happens next.
Awesome chapter, but I gotta ask...
What's BYOC?
1010570
I can't go a week without accidentally detonating a magical stun-mine under AJ.
1010580>>1010602>>1010605>>1010669>>1010729>>1010776>>1010845>>1011097>>1011124>>1011557>>1012120>>1012331>>1013280>>1013955>>1014572
Thanks guys (and girls) I'm glad you're enjoying the tale so far :)
You.
1011378
Sssshhhhhh.
1014852
Heh, if you gotta ask, the next chapter is probably not for you.
1016030
I hear that. On a side note Var, you do realize this confirms my shipping story theory.
1016416 All I know is "Bring your own..." WHAT'S THE 'C'?!
1017047
Lol. "Cider" mate.
1017051
1017088
Uh, heh. Care to translate that range of reactions good sir?
1017160
"Really?"
"Dafuq?"
"Dafuq?"
"Wow..."
"Dafuq..."
*facehoof*
I can't believe I couldn't figure that out.
1017173
Yeah, sorry, I don't speak string-emoticon :P
1017202 No problem. Still... unbelievable. How could I not figure it out? Now I'm pissed at myself.
Thoroughly enjoyable. You, Sir, have been bookmarked. Of course, this means you'll have to come up with the rest of the story.
Twilight, for her added years, is still Twilight.
1023226
Glad you're enjoying it sir. Following chapter(s) are well on their way. Once I get enough scenes in mind, I usually just jot these installments down in a couple hours. Anywho...
---
So yeah, for all you writers out there, I'd like to get your take: This story is my first foray into first person writing, and in this chapter, I decided to get a little experimental. You'll note that I begin in 1st-P simple, then transition to 1st-P perfect for the flashback, move back to simple, then flow into 3rd-P omniscient for Scootaloo's end section... aaaand I'd like to get some feedback on that. Was it jarring? Did it work, or was it too rough to maintain immersion?
Any and all feedback will be greatly appreciated! An again, thanks for reading ;)
I never really gave much thought on shipping for the CMC until this came along. I am now thoroughly sold on Scootabelle. I am definitely looking forward to more of this.
As for your writing, I felt it flowed quite smoothly. Your choice of perspective for each scene fit well, and the line breaks make each shift clear.
Another chapter snuck in under my nose, so I favorited to keep track of any more. Anyway, onto the review.
From what I could tell both from the reading for enjoyment and a more critical eye, I found little to no grammatical or spelling errors. I could probably be strict and get you on starting a sentence with 'And', but that's more for reviewing essays than stories. Too, this is first person, mostly, so some informality is to be expected. The only other thing I could possibly see that would be confusing is the sentence where you describe Twilight not leaving AJ alone: "At first she was furious, but now she just wants Twilight to leave her alone for two seconds and buy her a new wagon." At first glance, I'm not sure if you're saying AJ wants -Twilight- to buy her a new wagon or if AJ wants Twilight to go away so she (AJ) can buy a new wagon herself. It's only because of the first bit of sentence and if you switch the two around, it should read fine. Still, it's just nitpicking.
For your concerns on the ease of reading through the different perspective shifts, I can only echo a comment above mine and say it read fine with the page breaks. Without those, there would have been trouble, but with each new scene unfolding the way it does, it's perfectly understandable. Along with that, your word choice and sentence wording flows along at a steady pace, making it easy to follow along. In fact, I really want to compliment you on how well it feels to read your non-dialogue pieces, such as the beginning - there's something exquisite about it that I just -wish- I could create for my own writing.
As far as my entertainment goes throughout the piece, I found it rather strange, in a way. At the beginning of the chapter, we're introduced to something a little more dangerous. It wasn't what I expected when I came to read it and it feels just the least bit out of place considering where we stop at in the first chapter. However, once I get over the different frame of mind I need to be in, I find myself curious to find out more about this training Sweetie Belle has with Twilight. I suppose this is my request that we see some kind of adventure or circumstance at some later date with the two of them. Mayhaps not in this story, as it -is- slice of life, but at some point. It's intriguing. As for everything else, I was entertained enough to keep reading and wonder about what exactly Sweetie is doing, echoing Scoots' own sentiments at the ending. Color me interested in how is moves along.
With all of the above taken together, the quality of the piece is great. Your writing skills feel almost overkill for a slice of life story and take that as a compliment. It feels just a bit to simple for your vocabulary and range of writing; as if you're choking off a lot of your creativity to stay within the bounds of this story. Again, this just might be my wish to see an adventure happen at some point, but i thought I'd mention it all the same. Despite that, the story is still a fun, light read and remains such throughout.
Until the next chapter.
F***IN' CLIFFHANGER, RAAAAAAARHHH!!!
1016030 wow a week?! I can barely go 2 hours without my magical stun-mines blowing her up, you must be some sort of advanced wizard... unicorn
Hey, hey! This story is great fun! The first chapters have been very entertaining indeed, and I am looking forward to seeing this one unfold. Keep up the great work!
I predict a drunken threesome somewhere in the near future.
Or perhaps not. I just get the feeling alcohol will be involved at some point, and it'll all just lead to a very awkward situation.
The next chapter's certainly gonna be a fun read.
I really want to like this story, but the sex references (and now alcohol) are throwing me off a bit. Oh well.
Damn it.
I wanted to make some kind of witty comment, but I'm too busy being in love with this story.
The Zenith: Sweetie Belle comes off as completely real. Even during infodumps you infuse the narration with a sense of personality and--for lack of a better term--life that prevents it from getting boring. Plus the dumps are so short that I have to be sharp to catch them, so bonus points there.
They say Discord's in the details, but in this story the details look more like Faust to me. It's the little things that make this piece magical, like how Sweetie's word choice reflects Rarity's influence even as she works to leave the nest. Or how Scootaloo doesn't sleep as well when Sweetie's not at home. Or how Sweetie is the little spoon. Or--no. I want to go on, but when I like a work too much I start to get all and sound like a fancolt.
The Nadir: It's meta; I despair of ever being able to cram this much quality into such a tiny word count.
TL;DR: Faving, upvoting,
stalkingwatching.I ma thoroughly enjoying this story and that says something because I usually don't care for first person stories.
1024817
Croswynd-
Firstly, thank you much for the attentive analysis. Secondly, please excuse this belated reply.
>Conjunctions
Yes, I’ve a major issue with that as well. Often, I’ll outright tell authors not to do it—even though it’s becoming far more acceptable overall—in preference to an explanation of extremely careful application. Bad habits an all.
>Tonal shift
Aye, the first chapter’s hook was sexual, the second’s was introducing a more dangerous feeling. Although that’s not something I’m… actually, I’m actively trying to -not- delve into that arena too much with piece. My primary work—Divergence—is a sprawling thing of pathos and adventure, and it just never bloody ends. I’d really like to actually -finish- a story this time around, heh. Though if that theme does interest you, then I’d love to hear some of your thoughts on Divergence. I’d just request you check it out as hosted on Gdocs. I’ve been having issues uploading the revised chapters here on Fimfic. *shrugs*
I thank you very much for your compliments; I’m quite fond of this writing thing, and your words are some of the most gratifying an author can hope for. Cheers!
1035645
InsufferableUnicorn-
I’m thinking you might be ‘Huh?’ Is that correct? In any case, I appreciate your input and kind words; you flatter me sir. Though I admit I'm a bit befuddled by your "it's meta" comment.
Thanks for your thoughts all, the next chapter is giving me some shit, but it’s getting there. Till then!
1097024
Aye, you've sussed out my secret identity.
No flattery here. I may gush, but I never flatter; it hurts both parties in the long run. I can understand why you'd be suspicious of my motives, though.
As for the "meta" thing, that's just poor wording on my part. I meant that my primary complaint was actually outsode of the story. For a native English speaker I trip over my words far too often.
1097168
Heh, well, either way, I really appreciate your comments! As an addendum, I have to say I'm pleased to see you've hung around /fic/! Always nice to have a new addition to the 'pone-fic is srs bsns' community, lol.
So, this-
> I meant that my primary complaint was actually outsode of the story
Just makes me all the more curious. What was/is it?
1097324
I'm happy to stick around, and intend to do so long after my fic's fate is decided. While I still enjoy the rough charms of FiMchan, Ponychan's warmth has been most welcoming.
Heh, I should've held my digital tongue; my "complaint" was solely my whining that my fic does so much less with so many more words. Like my favorite pony () I have a narcissistic streak, and so I tend to talk about myself when I have no business doing so. My apologies.
I can try to find an actual fault with your tale if you like, but I warn you that this tends to happen to me with fics I enjoy.
You must write more.
I enjoyed this second chapter even more than the first, awesome job, I'm loving it. On to the next chapter!
1010570
It's on my bucket list.