Chapter 25
The Haunting
Admiral Biscuit
Once again, I skipped buying food at the market, although I did purchase a roll of ribbon. There was probably enough food left in my pantry to get me through another day, or if not, I could just get dinner at the pub when I got back to town.
It was time to tell the old stallion where Windflower’s bones were, but to do that I had to find them again first. I didn’t think he’d appreciate me bumbling through the woods with him in tow, especially if I couldn’t find it right away.
I did tell Milfoil where I was going, and that I’d do my best to be back by nightfall. That way if I didn’t return, she could organize a search party for me.
•••••
It was a pity that ghosts don’t leave footprints. It looked like everything else that lived in the woods had. I wasn’t much for identifying them, although I could guess some from context: squirrels went in looping paths, usually ending at trees, and deer didn’t.
Had Windflower made friends with any of the animals in the forest? Or would they run off in fear if they saw her? A lot of animals were inquisitive, and if they thought that she posed no threat, they’d approach her eventually. Perhaps if I knew forest animals better, they might have been able to lead me to her.
My original intent had been to leave ribbons on my path on the way in, and I’d used up about a dozen before I realized that since I didn't know where I was going yet, the smarter thing to do would be to find her glade again and then use ribbons to mark my way back.
I wasn’t going to retrace my steps and untie the ones I’d already put up, though.
•••••
I didn’t find it. I’d told myself that I was going to go back to Haywards Heath when the sun was at the tops of the trees, but when it got there, I was feeling that I was close, and that I could stay just a little bit longer.
Then I decided that I’d stick with the original plan, and I was glad that I had. It was nearly dark by the time I got into town . . . once the sun went below the horizon, it got dark quick. I didn’t fancy the idea of bumbling through the woods at night, trying to find my way home.
I hadn’t asked Milfoil to start a fire in my fireplace or make dinner for me, but she’d done both of those things. It wasn’t anything fancy—just a pot of vegetable stew.
I got myself a bowl and sat at the kitchen table. I half expected Milfoil to get off the couch and join me, but she stayed where she was.
I was still in the kitchen, eating my soup, when Windflower came downstairs again. Milfoil’s ears perked up, and she moved off the couch.
I stayed right where I was. Windflower would approach closer if she didn’t see me, and it was natural to be in the kitchen. It felt like it would be even more natural for me to be stirring the pot of soup, so I got the spoon and started stirring. Monsters don’t stir pots of soup.
Hopefully, Milfoil wasn’t offended by excess stirring of her soup. I didn’t think that she would be. Soup probably couldn’t be ruined by stirring it too much anyway.
•••••
I didn’t know exactly what I was expecting to happen. How close would Windflower be willing to get? I couldn’t imagine her sitting down on the couch or curling up on the rug in front of the fireplace. Not fleeing when she saw us was probably the best that we were going to be able to accomplish for a while.
The next thing to work on was somehow communicating her wants and desires. I wasn’t sure if she could speak, but of course that wasn’t the only way to communicate. She could hold things in her mouth, and lots of ponies wrote like that. Maybe she could, too. If there wasn’t any significant progress today, I could ask Milfoil about getting pens and paper for her.
Wood stoves couldn’t be turned down, and the vegetables were getting mushy—maybe I could ruin the soup by stirring it too much. I got out a cooling rack and carefully set the pot on it.
•••••
The next afternoon, I went out in the woods again. The ponies hadn’t brought any more snow, and my own wandering footprints were easy enough to find. That was good; that kept me from following the same tracks again.
I searched until dusk, didn’t find her hiding spot, and went back home again in defeat.
•••••
Before I set out the third time, I invited Milfoil to dinner at the restaurant of her choice. It wasn’t fair that she was spending so much time cooking and watching the house for me, and I wasn’t doing anything in return.
She accepted immediately.
I cut my unsuccessful woods exploration short, so that we’d have plenty of time to eat before Windflower arrived.
It was a little bit strange for her not to be at my house when I arrived, although it was too early to wait for Windflower, and there wasn’t anything for her to cook.
She probably wants to get ready to go out to eat. That was an odd thought. Ponies were always ready, weren’t they? They didn’t have to put on clothes or anything.
I hesitated at her door. True, she’d been letting herself in to my house numerous times in the past, but maybe it was different if I just let myself in.
Milfoil might be expecting that, though, and might be confused if I knocked. Especially if she was in the middle of something and thought it was some pony knocking and then got upset because she’d had to stop whatever she was doing to let me in.
And I didn’t remember ever having told her that she could just walk right into my house, which led me to believe that that was a thing that ponies did.
It was the first time I’d seen the inside of her house. It was a lot nicer than mine—it wasn’t one particular thing I could pin down. The construction didn’t look any better, she didn’t have more furniture than I did, and she certainly didn’t have as many flowers. There were a few photographs and trinkets here and there, but nowhere near what my parents house back on Earth had.
Overall, though, it looked more lived in, more cared-for than my house did. More alive.
“I’m upstairs,” she called.
“Are you—” decent, I didn’t say, because I wasn’t sure what that would mean to a pony. “I mean, can I come up?”
“If you want. I’ll be down in a minute.”
It would have been safer to stay where I was, but I had been invited upstairs.
She was standing in front of a mirror, putting on makeup. She’d also put on a short skirt, sort of like a summer dress. A saddle-piece covered her back, and it fell to about mid-leg. Not enough for a human in winter, but in her case more than she usually wore.
“Sorry.” I backed out into the hallway. Even though she wouldn’t have invited me up if she hadn’t wanted me to see her in the bathroom. Or was the invitation something I should have known I wasn’t supposed to accept? A complicated sort of thing where she had to say I could come up for politeness’ sake, and where I was supposed to refuse for decency’s sake?
As promised, she came out of the bathroom a minute later, and when she saw me, she leaned over and brushed her muzzle against my side.
“Did you find her?”
I shook my head. “Not yet, but I will.”
“I know.”
“You look pretty.” That sounded dumb after I said it, but it was true.
“Thanks!” She did a weird little bouncy thing with her legs, a pony flounce. “I should have asked, where are we going for dinner?”
“I was thinking Sweet Clover’s,” I said. It was the nicest restaurant I knew of in Haywards Heath. “Unless you have a better idea.”
“It’s nice. Her food’s good.” Milfoil turned back. “Are you really hungry now? ‘Cause I could put my mane up.”
I didn’t know much about pony fashion, or fashion in general, so it was safest to let her decide. “Whatever you think is best.”
•••••
Unsurprisingly, she had a wide variety of brushes that were all designed to be held with a hoof. It felt like it would be rude to stay in the hall as she finished grooming herself; if she had a problem with brushing her mane with an audience, she would have told me to wait downstairs. Just the same, it was weird to watch. Like I’d accidentally stumbled into the girl’s locker room and they were too polite to kick me out.
She twisted her mane up into a half-bun and held it in place with a couple of springy metal clips with enameled flowers on them.
It took me embarrassingly long to notice that they matched her cutie mark.
•••••
After dinner, we went back to my house. It was dark out, but only just—we’d cut our night a bit short in deference to Windflower. I could have had a bit of a fire going, but I hadn’t thought of that; I was still too used to human conveniences as opposed to the slower tempo of things in Equestria.
Milfoil went up to my bathroom, and when she came back down she wasn’t wearing her skirt anymore. I wasn’t entirely sure what to think about that.
She did have a blanket folded over her back: the comforter off my bed.
There was no telling when she’d put the bottle of wine under the couch. She’d had plenty of opportunity, and while back on Earth I would have thought it strange that my neighbor was going into my house without my knowledge, here it felt natural.
We snuggled up on the couch together, vying for position until we’d found a way to sit that was comfortable to both of us, and then we waited.
I was still the furthest away from the hall, in order to give Windflower a comforting pony face to see first.
There wasn’t a lot to do while we waited, and back on Earth I might have suggested watching some throwaway movie, but they didn’t have TVs in Equestria. So we talked, and I found myself running my hand through Milfoil’s mane, even though some small part of my brain said that I shouldn’t, especially once I’d unfastened her pins and let her mane down.
I don’t know how long we sat in front of the fire, cuddled up under my comforter. We’d killed most of the bottle of wine, and I’d gotten up a few times to add more logs to the fire, and then suddenly Milfoil’s ears were turned away from me, down the hallway, and not long after that, a ghostly muzzle appeared, followed by most of the rest of Windflower’s head.
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You will speak when spoken to, and only when spoken to.
I think was Milfoil’s plan the entire time. Kids always apparently pop up at the most inappropriate times. Now hopefully they can help this poor lost soul.
Milfoil really needs a copy of Lyras Guide.
Your Human And You.
Care And Treatment of Dumb Pets.
Dang it cupid! Hurry the he'll up and do your job already, or does cadence need to show up and state the obvious? And dang you protagonist, just realize you like Milfoil and kiss her already
I'm half expecting at some point, the human is wandering around town, and stumbles upon Princess Cadance sniffing around, her love senses tingling. When she sees him, she just smiles, and already knows.
Candy is like, a love ninja.
So... is this a ghost story or a slow burn romance, or both? I'm not complaining, but... YOU'RE KILLING ME HERE!!!
Impatient readers are impatient!
(Okay, yes, I'm complaining
eeeeeeee!
Interspecies dating awkwardness is always adorable, especially when one of them hasn’t realized they’re dating yet.
And she’s here! I hope she is okay.
Milfoil is so cute. Watching these too is makes me squee.
Hi Windflower. Come to watch, too?
9377256
Seems to me that this story might be getting a tag update soon...
it always starts with them leaving stuff in your house.... Nothinb big though, a clothing item here, a hair thingy there... wine under the couch. Soon he is gonna have an entire stock of mane care products in the bathroom, a closet filled with ssddlebags and Milly will be trying to sell her house.
Y'know, I didn't come to this story expecting adorable slow-burn shipping.
But I'm definitely not complaining.
Here's hoping that Windflower feels up to making contact soon.
9377307
Nah, I don't think Biscuit plays that game. I think he'll leave the 'romance' tag off (assuming it's actually warranted officially at some point) just to screw with new readers.
9377331
Either way wouldn't surprise me.
It's a tough call to make, since updating the tags now loses the ongoing effect for new readers, but not updating may lose new readers when it becomes something they weren't expecting.
Glad it's not me that needs to make that call though.
You know, if Boo's cutie mark is a heart, I'm going to be really suspicious of her motives, here.
Now kiss
Make your chapters more substantial.
You have your exposure and horse fame so give us something better than briefness.
9377309
Well he thinks her house is nicer than his so maybe he can just leave it to Boo and move in with her.
Oh, God, she's not a ghost, she's a Bean-sidhe!
I wonder if young bean-sidhe have to be taught their craft. Hmmmm. How much does Milfoil know about wailing?
(Honestly, I didn't realize the double entendre until I was halfway through writing it...
)
9377242
At this point, I think she's up to the "Face pressed against window, breathing heavily" stage.
At this point it is a bit like your story “I don’t like cats”, except with pony rather than a cat.
“I don’t have a marefriend, she use my kitchen to cook me dinner, leave wine under the couch, and dress herself up whenever we do something not in my house, I pet her mane and bring her to the restaurant.
“She is not my marefriend.”
This is focusing less and less on Wildflower and more or and more on their budding romance.
*Wildflower
I have still not heard any definitive answer on this. Have I been reading it wrong this entire time!?
9377567
It's Windflower. So if you've been reading it as Wildflower, yes, you've been reading it wrong.
9377432 One way around your aggravation is to wait until the story is complete, and then read it in full.
Or (also), you can accept that the author 1) has a life outside of MLP, 2) doesn't owe us anything, 3) writes as pleases them, and especially as they can.
This is not counting Be Courteous and Thankful, which you really should do. You are getting far more out of any author's efforts here than you pay for, literally.
Oh god, this is getting unbearably adorable.
Windflower is nice too.
9377484
Right just like that ghost filly isn't your adopted daughter.
9377161
Shhh! Keep your voice down! The spooks at H.A.S. might hear you!
Hopefully our human doesn't take fucking forever to realize he's got a marefriend. I don't mind it taking a little while, but the "Thick human can't recognize a pony wants him" trope has been played and killed totally.
9377585
I'm sorry then.
You and your damnable clifhangers!
DUDE, SHE TOOK HER SKIRT OFF. IT MEANS THE SAME THING IN HUMAN!
9377776
Are you high on your own farts you narcissist? I know the New Year is here but do something productive. Move snow or something.
This story is edited and completed I am sure. Short chapters lack substance and there always seems to be something missing here. As much as I like the story it just seems choppy and lacking.
9377161
Hey! At least he speaks well enough!
9379168
Yeh want choppy and lacking? Read Twitter.
9378299
Well, here we know that he's totally oblivious to pony customs. So even though that has been used and abused many times, i would not mind it here to much.
Still i can wait to see what actually happens.
9379680
I stay away. Too annoying.
9378299 But then he'll have to deal with the jealous chimera!
But only the snake tail has the hots for him!
The goat head is obsessed with Iron Will.
And the tiger head wants to eat both human and minotaur!
Things get weird fast in that love pentagon.
She watch'em snuggle
9379168
Then go and write your own, maybe? Show him how it's done? Contribute to the greater literary pool and bring a greater sense of fulfillment to the site? Or, you know... Insult people needlessly.
9377147
Yes, this is wise.
9377150
Or, if it wasn’t her plan at the beginning, she saw her opportunity and galloped off with it. As she should have.
9377161
She really does. It would cover all sorts of important topics, like how oblivious human males are to obvious flirting, and how they don’t move their ears at all when they’re interested.
9377231
I wonder if one of Cadance’s duties is to make reluctant or unsure ponies realize that they’re actually in love?
9377242
Oh, she’d totally know. And he’d be wondering why she’s got that little smile on her face, and then later on when he goes home he’d suddenly realize.
I thought that there would be a picture of her in a ninja suit, but there isn’t.
So try this instead. Not subtle, but. . . .
derpicdn.net/img/view/2014/2/14/551816__safe_artist-colon-otakuap_princess+cadance_arrow_badass+adorable_bayonet_commando_crossbow_cupid_cute_eye+black+%28makeup%29_face+paint_headban.jpeg
9377256
Can’t my story be both?
9377277
Our protagonist is so clueless.
As okay as she can be for being a ghost. At least she’s gotten brave enough to venture back downstairs again.
9377287
Honestly, Windflower probably would be happy for Milfoil to get a stallionfriend.
9377307 9377331
Y’know, I was just thinking about that, and debating. On the one hand, it probably does need one, and it might draw in readers who like romances. On the other hand, there’s a part of me that really likes blindsiding my readers when a story doesn’t go where they think it will go, and tags can spoil that. So I think for the time being, I’ll leave it off. Maybe toss it on in a few chapters when there’s no doubt in anybody’s mind, y’know?
9377309
It’s true, that’s totally how they get you. Of course, the clothing items are a bit less likely coming from a pony . . . although a hat or a bow or something probably counts.
9377318
In all honesty, I didn’t either.
You shouldn’t be!
Having a pony she knows in the house will really help her courage.
9377403
Her cutie mark isn’t/wasn’t a heart.
But, if you look at the coverart, you might notice that the hints were there all along.
9377432
In what way? Longer? More concise word use? Less philosophical pondering from the narrator? Sex scenes and car chases? A second ghost?
I’ve had exposure ever since Twilight Eats a Peach, which at least got me horse notoriety.
If you want something better than briefness, though, try this:
images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/intermediary/f/4a86fc0f-4f13-49dd-8c34-7fc231d6c209/d88q06f-13378c1f-02e1-4e73-b375-af8fa5d98162.jpg