The Search in Winsome Falls

by Comma Typer

Expectations

Outside the window, the sun was ever getting nearer to the hoirzon and to the day's end. Quiet yet near were the flicks of switches as, one by one, lights turned on from inside the many buildings—whether they be house or store or some other kind of building—lighting up, with the streetlights, the wooden and brick rows that spoke of the simple present.

The sky was, second by second, turning slightly more orange or more red. The sunlight lessened, darkening the town yet making prominent and distinct what made ponies see well for many a night before and for the night incoming. The kites and the pegasi in the air slowly turned into mere figures in the distance.

Finally, the rolling of carriage wheels and the open talk of free ponies at the night's onset ushered in a social party that was not celebrated with shouts of announcement but rather with the silent assent of the ponies that, yes, this is now the time to rise up from their chairs (after dinner has been eaten) to breathe in the welcoming cool breeze of the dim hour and to relish in the revelries of what had been planned from before: actual parties in which ballons and streamers and confetti decorated the ponies who danced and sang and just talked in the midst of the fun, walk-outs where a group of stallions and mares would huddle together and walk about the streets of town with the intent of engaging in whatever was in the majority's thought to engage in as they passed by parks both big and small along with several shops and friends' houses, taxis ordered to rein in either family or friends (or both, which was the least common but the most anticipated as could be heard by loud and happy greetings of many from just across the street) into a carriage or two in order to whisk them away to some town or city in Equestria or even beyond—from the murmurings across the street, one could glean a yelled "Manehattan!" followed by a row of gasps and whoops.

Of course, it all seemed the more premature when the sun did set.

For that better part of the minute, the hurried starts of activity halted as the incremental darkening suddenly sped up. Ponies looked up, seeing the sun quickly descend behind the hills and the mountains over yonder, the sky turning a contemplative purple or lavender as stars twinkled into view and as the moon slowly yet obviously ascended to bring about its soft glow and shine upon the land, its glimmer being reflected on the borders of the roofs and on the blades of grass.

There were expressions of "Ooh!" and, also, expressions of "Ahh!" throughout it all, still bedazzling those who looked up with eyes of wonder and smiles of amazement, of a mind that did not want to cease being amazed by what was otherwise seemed to be mundane.

With that, the night's revelries continued in earnest, finding, in the beginning of the night, its official start of things.

All this Watts Onion and Isobar observed as they both looked out the window, standing beside each other as, now, the moonlight was on their faces.

Silence between them, background noise throbbing with its pleasant fervor of hoofsteps and hurried, excited verbal exchange.

"Alright," Isobar said, "there's that. Which reminds me—" He looked at Watts Onion "—of Princess Luna." A pause. "So, as much as I want to stay here and help you out with this Winsome Falls search or adventure, I only have, what, half an hour? Tell me, Onion, how bad is it going to be? It can't be that bad, otherwise Princess Luna would've sent you with immediate orders to rally ponies up for the cause, but you aren't doing that."

"But, it's the Princess of the Night we're talking about!" Onion countered, raising in front of him a balled up hoof as if to make or to emphasize a point there. "I don't want to be lazy about it and make myself a bad name in front of her!"

"Princess Luna is wise," Isobar said. "If she didn't sound very worried about it, then she thinks it's not urgent." He sat on the bed, still facing Onion. "Come on, think about it! Give it a few days of preparation and just relax and unwind, Onion."

"But, there's the—"

"No more excuses, Onion," Isobar said, standing up from the bed with force and speed, placing a hoof on his friend's mouth.

Onion's eyes looked at the friend in front of him.

"Lots of heroes and heroines of Equestria didn't go rushing about to get recognized as such. Most of them didn't expect to be given those nice titles—they wanted to do what they were doing because it was their passion. Now, here you come and you're not really that serious about solving whatever is going on in Winsome Falls, are you?"

"Of course, I'm serious about that," Onion said, now calming down as his voice shrank into a manageable volume. "Who would want Princess Luna to be constantly troubled in the head for a month or two?"

"Neither did our heroes," Isobar answered, "yet did they stress themselves out when they shouldn't? I don't think so. They had to be in good condition to do the great feats that we end up learning in history class, and being stressed all the time with lots of overthinking is surely not a part of that. Nor is wanting the fame more than the actual job." He shot a smirk at his friend. "Now, which of the two are you, really? Unless you're stressing about the possible fame you want to get."

"You know me more than that, Isobar," Onion said before letting out a nervous chuckle and a slow shaking of his head. "It's just, I'm being thrust into this and I'm aware of what you're saying but...it's—it's all—"

"Don't try to be talk your way out of this," Isobar said.

Silence again as Isobar sat on the bed again.

Onion, sighing, took a seat on the bed, sitting beside Isobar as they both looked out the window.

Over there, the dark blue night sky with its stars and its bright moon and not a single cloud to obscure this alluring and charming view, that view extending all the way to the boundaries that stretched far away.

With one more sigh, Onion looked at his friend. "So, anything else to demoralize me or what?"

"I'm not trying to demoralize you," Isobar answered, a hint of unease in his voice. "I'm just telling you to see the reality of it: You can't just grab me out of the day I planned out to join your 'little' adventure and, no, I know it's not little but—you're making too much out of this. I'm already trying to help you—I'm thinking about what day to join you within this week, probably entrust my responsibilites over the foals to Lobby Bud. But, he has his own life going on as well—printing the local newspapers at the press station and all. If I get yanked into your adventure and if Lobby Bud gets yanked into my organization and if we don't do this right, there's going to be some angry ponies at my doorstep—and I won't be there to help them!" A sudden smile before it went away, back to that concerned look. "Alright?"

Onion nodded.

Isobar stood up. "You've camped with your family before. I'm sure you know how to arrange all we need before we go. In the mean time, ask a few more to join you—we need more than just the two of us to get around to something concrete for the Princess herself."

Onion nodded again, his lips quivering slightly.

"Wakes Week and Dally News—why don't you try asking them?" Isobar then spoke up, a turn up of cheerfulness in his voice.

"Oh. Why didn't I think of that?" Onion scratched his head.

Isobar smiled. "Now that you have it in your head, go ask them tomorrow. As for me—" He rounded to the top of the stairs "—I must go."

Onion smiled back. "Thanks for that, Isobar."

"And—" Isobar saluting his friend with a raised wing to his eyebrow "—thanks for listening. If things go well, I'm hoping to meet you on Thursday."

Onion nodded and waved him a goodbye.

Isobar did so, too, before he flew down the flight of stairs.

Onion continued smiling as he heard the hoofsteps that rushed to the dark yet brightly lit outside. He scampered to the window and saw the pegasus spread his wings again and fly in the air.

"And, I hope to be seeing you help the Princess as well, Isobar," Onion muttered before turning to his bed.

He sat on the bed again.

Placing a hoof on his chin, he wondered and pondered and though. Looking out the window, he saw that night sky again with its star and moon.

"Maybe a night out will calm my mind down," he said to himself.

A few more seconds of looking out of that window.

Then, he got up.

"Uh, I'm gonna go out, guys!" he shouted down the stairs.

---

Stepping outside and closing the front door, he was in the open, feeling the chilling wind go past him but not shivering at all. Rather, he kept his small smile about him as he walked away from his home and into wherever he was going to.

The buildings near his house looked quite similar to that—made of brick and wood, consisting of two floors or stories. The variations that were there were minor ones that did not attract much attention to the mind: a different color of paint, a different door, a different smell emanating from inside through the windows. To these, the Earth pony didn't look at or dwell upon that much.

Across the street in front, there was a smaller park fenced off mostly by concrete and metal but, otherwise, kind and accommodating by the fountain at the center around which a few ponies were at either at the benches or on the ground. The fountain made that continuous noise of rushing and flowing water, being only an ornament to the water that crashed gently at the bottom with its fresh look.

Now at the fountain itself, he dragged a hoof across the water, feeling its smooth texture while passing through it.

And, as soon as he had went there, he went away from the fountain, now observing the ponies who were already in the park.

There was that group of planters looking about as if they were not supposed to be seen. Then, a shout of "Go!" from one of the mares and the ponies digged, planted, patted, and hurried out from their act of guerilla planting, exiting the park in gallops.

On one of the benches, a few ponies were talking to each other while, sometimes, looking at the sky in their short pauses between lines of dialogue.

There was a pony, prepared with stage light and easel, painting a portrait of the park as it was. He was calm—never saying a word but only painting, painting, painting, a look to see the park once again, and then back on to painting.

Several foals were playing in the park even in the nightly hour, chasing each other in an attempt to catch one of them. Laughs and smiles were in this game, youthful innocence displayed in this.

And, as Watts Onion exited the park and went on to the road again, he looked at his surroundings, seeing the several ponies in their different activities—eating and drinking, riding and pulling a carriage, writing or reading, strumming or listening, cooking or smelling, selling or buying, telling or knowing, and the rest, too, as all of this was being done under the lights of stars, moons, streetlights, and building lights and in the different backgrounds of street, park, restaurant, diner, house, and so on in Ambling.

A carriage carrying bundles of thick and blank newspaper, all grouped and collected under well-tied rope.

The night in Ambling was, as of now, not in a state of snooze or large slumber. Rather, it was bustling with that level of movement that characterized the start of a night's happy plans with whatever's joyful being shared around to each and every creature who was in sight, eliciting smiles at the freshness of the hour as that chilling wind gusted past once again, bringing back to mind the fact that the night was cold.

Watts Onion looked up, seeing, again, the moon and its stars in their places, adorning and beautifying the sky and the night overall.

Then, a shudder, though he kept his smile intact. "What if Princess Luna visits me in my dream tonight? I don't know how to react to that! OK, maybe it's not too serious." He sighed. "Just to check on me, that's all. Nothing that's going to break my mind or anything. Just to check on me and to ask if I'm making any progress. That's if she checks on me at all druing the night. What if it's something else? What if—no, that's me thinking it all too much again. Gotta listen to Isobar: I should be calm and relax and not think about it too much while I do my best to prepare for the adventure at hoof. No panic attacks, no stressing out, just relax like what he said." A grin appeared on his face as he walked about on the street. "Maybe a trip to the bakery would calm me down even further—take me away from the thought of it all. Or, just the diner. Yeah, a diner would be nice to stay in."

---

It was a greasy place. Loud sizzles of frying food as hayburgers were cooked up and served under one minute and horseshoe fries in less than a minute's half as the servers did not walk but ran their way to the customers who were of varied descrptions—Earth ponies, pegasi, unicorns were all there; frazzled manes and combed manes were there, too; suited and unclothed ponies were there, also; ponies tapping their hooves in anxiety and impatient and ponies who merely looked about and observed their surroundings were there.

But, the hurry must continue on in this diner: Bells were rang both on the counter and at the door, hoofsteps both quick and slow (loud and quiet), slurps and chomps of rude manners, shouts of orders and commands to this or that pony behind the counter as each and all of them were moving about in ordered haste, all the while that familiar smell of fried food wafted throughout the entire diner, almost completing the atmosphere of that diner as what's typical for such an establishment. Ponies entering and ponies leaving in a fast fashion, diner staff clothed in white and red while wearing smiles that served to brighten up anypony's night—this was what was going on inside.

Sitting at a counter on a small swivel chair, swinging about nervously, he took a hold of his hay burger and took a bite off of it. Chewing on it, enjoying the tasty experience—crisp and fried hay crunched and crackling inside as the added flavors inside burst, providing a savory flavor to that crisp; fresh lettuce and tomatoes giving that succulent zest; buns providing that cushion on which what was between them could be unified into one singular yet diverse taste of the hayburger.

And, on the counter, too, was a bag of horseshoe fries—fries shaped like horseshoes.

"It's just another night," Onion said after gulping in the first bite. "Don't worry too much about it—but how can I if it's something super important? And, of course, there's the fame—why did he have to mention that? Now that I know for certain that I'll be famous if I pull this one off right, I want that fame and I want it very soon! Imagine all the pictures of my face on the history books—" Then, he slapped himself on the face. "No!" He balled up his front hooves and let go of his hayburger. "I'm here just to loosen up and to get away from the task for a while. Then, a good night's sleep, dreaming of something else—hanging out with my friends and maybe going on a trip to some big city like Vanhoover or Fillydelphia, not dreaming about journeying to Winsome Falls. I don't want to spend too much time there." Shivering a little, he looked at his hayburger again and took another bite off of it.

Eating alone at the counter, though surrounded by tables of ponies happily telling each other what was on their mind, gesturing and gesticulating with their forehooves at times. The sizzle went on in the background as Watts Onion munched on his hayburger, smiling as he enjoyed it. After that, he wiped his mouth clean from any culinary stain.

"But, planning ahead won't hurt, right?" he asked. Some moments of pause. "No. I'll plan it all tomorrow. Right now, it's time to do whatever I want and what I want now is to eat my hayburger!"

Several ponies then looked at him with strange, weirded-out looks.

He looked around him, seeing the ponies' response to his sudden outburst.

"Uh, whoops! I'm sorry!"

Not a word was said for a while. Quiet hoofsteps and sizzles.

"I'll...just go b-back to my food, huh?"

Slowly turning away with some shuddering, he returned to eating his food.

The chatter around him went back in full force, bringing the diner back to what it was before: a good, homely and cozy place to eat in.

---

Laying on his bed, moonlight on the floor. Posters on the wall, not much going on downstairs as hoofsteps punctuated what was otherwise a quiet night.

Eyes wide open; no sign of a struggle to keep awake. The blinks were fast—as what would be expected from a pony who still had some energy left.

Looking up at the ceiling, seeing the wooden parts and materials of it.

"Just don't worry," he said to himself. "Don't stress too much about it. Everything is going to work out as planned—if I don't have a plan, then I'll plan it tomorrow. Everything will work out the way I will plan it, then."

He sighed.

His breathing apparent. Clear in the middle of the quiet night.

Some hoofsteps outside the house. Carriages rolling by. Some sentences and questions from the street.

Placing his hooves on his eyes, closing them.

Yet, he moved about, going to one side then to the other.

He woke up, opening his eyes.

"How long has it been?" he asked.

So, he looked at the clock on the wall.

"One minute? How am I supposed to go through the night if one minute feels like thirty? I have to think of something else for a while!"

Then, a bright smile. A hoof raised. "I have an idea!"

Rushing off to a shelf, he grabbed two things: a Daring Do book and a Power Ponies comic.

Throwing them on to the bed, he then leaped on to it, avoiding the pieces of literature as he landed. Getting a hold on the Power Ponies comic, he opened it and read.

"This ought to get Winsome Falls out of my head," Onion said, attempting to assure himself.

On the cover of that comic was that famous group of six ponies: the Power Ponies. Masked Matter-Horn, in sleek red and gray and goggles with somewhat flowing mane; Radiance, in flashly style and, well, radiance in the form of beauty accompanied with a costume that had depictions of gems and crystals all over; Mistress Mare-velous, suited in red and equipped with her long lasso known for stopping several baddies; Fili-Second, costumed in white with arrows telling whoever saw the cover that she was very fast (even her sharp mane and her jagged tail exemplify that); Saddle Rager wearing a suit which had flowery ornaments on it while bearing a scowl on her face; Zapp, lightning on her hooves and a dashing expression; and there was Humdrum, as small as a colt, donning cape, boots, and a mask standing beside the famed Power Ponies.

Yet, despite the strength, the agility, the wit, the smarts, and the friendship that they have bonded over the past years or issues, they weren't enough to keep Watts Onion occupied with the action-y story that promised to bring his mind away into a fantastical yet realistic adventure.

His eyes would wander off away from the pages of the comic book and into reality—reality with floors, walls, stairs, clock, and window that showed to Onion the night sky with its stars and its moon.

But, he turned his head around from that beautiful view and back to the comic.

Eyes struggling to stay focused on the words—they would sometimes dart back outside of the comic and into what was real and bringing into his mind what was supposed to be done the next day. A clinched jaw and a refocused try at reading the comic, he stormed on, re-enjoying that story inside.

After a while, without having opened the Daring Do book, he placed the comic and the book back on to where they were on the shelves. A long look at the shelves and the books that were there—from the comic books and the adventure novels to several dictionaries and thesauruses, there was a respectable collection of literature on those shelves.

Pacing the room once again, keeping a watch on the window, he sighed. Walking toward it, he looked out again through the window and saw what was outside once more.

Like before, some ponies and some carriages and some lights and some clouds though not too many to obscure the night sky.

Then, he hopped on to bed, lay on it, wrapped a blanket around himself, placed his head on the pillow, and closed his eyes.

What was in his mind then? That simple adventure of the Power Ponies—defeating the bad guys, saving Maretropolis from evil, and keeping the ponies safe from harm and danger.