Wind Whistler Investigates

by EcliptorCalrissian

Wind Whistler Investigates

“The legendary Firefly zooms through the clouds at lightning speed! The awed crowd below cheers in… awe! Hey, I don’t have writers.”

In truth, the blue-furred pegasus was far from the cloud layer high above, and even farther from any listeners, who’d surely have laughed at her narration.

“Watch as she performs the dreaded Tempest Twist! Then, she launches into the Feathered Frenzy of Fury! Oh no, she’s plunging into a tailspin! Will she pull up in time?! She spirals towards certain squishification on the cold hard ground below! The audience gasps in terror! I can’t look! Wait, what’s that?! Yes!! With only inches to spare, she narrowly avoids certain death!”

With that, she pulled out of her controlled spiral dive with a good twenty feet to spare. She’d practiced those stunts, including appearing to lose control and then pull up, at least a hundred times but she wasn’t yet sure of her ability to time it to only miss the ground by inches.

“And what’s this? She’s going for the dreaded Double Inside-Out Loop! The last pegasus who tried ended up in a full-body wing and hoof cast! I hear she takes all her meals through a straw these days! Will Firefly be the first to master it? Annnnd, she nails it! The crowd goes wild!”

...Someday, she added mentally.

In reality, she’d kept on flying straight, towards home. She was sure that someday, on the way to becoming a famous stunt flyer, she’d have mastered the loop and added it to her repertoire. But these days, too much was at stake to risk trying it while alone and without a net or at least water below. She’d pursue her dream, but she had something even more important to focus on.

Speaking of which, having completed her last delivery run for the day, it was time to head home, and say hello to her number one fan - the one who called her “Mom.”

In a house of pegasi, every window doubled as a door. She entered on the second floor, where her daughter could usually be found, her muzzle buried in some book or another. Finding it empty, she explored the rest of the house; nobody home. “No audience for my dramatic entry,” she said. “Oh, well.”

The daredevil started to worry, but pushed it away. On a weekend, without school to worry about, she’d probably be in one of her usual spots around the forest. She trotted out of their front door, slowing to snack on a couple mouthfuls of the grass outside, and took off once more.

----

“Subject six appears to be attempting to climb a small sapling. Unsuccessfully. Subject’s youth may play a role in such behavior. Subject nine swims alongside subject fourteen near the bank of the river, and attempts to flick water at subject fourteen with his beak.”

A small filly tiphoofed around the riverbank, carefully observing the group of ducks around her. Each had a tiny band tied around its left leg, a number written on each.

“Subject nine is swimming upside down. Each of them has shown such behavior at least once. Possibly feeding on plants or insects in the water? Nine does it more often than the others; if my theory is correct, it likely explains subject nine’s greater width.”

A moment later, a blue-and-pink blur whizzed toward the riverbank, stopping in an instant next to the filly. Both ponies’ manes blew in the wind of her arrival. The ducks around the filly ran towards the river. “How’s that for an entrance!” Firefly crowed.

“Mother, you’re scaring away my test subjects! I can’t collect data like this.” She ran after the ducks at a trot.

‘Test subjects,’ of course, Firefly thought. Someday, she knew, her daughter would be one of Dream Valley’s foremost geniuses. Either the kind who changed the world forever, or maybe the kind that cackled maniacally about how they’d show everyone ever to call them mad as they brought the dragon/moose/dinosaur hybrids they’d just made in their dimly-lit underground labs to life.

Though their personalities were total opposites, the filly looked a lot like Firefly herself had in her childhood, only with the colors swapped; her body was blue and her mane and tail were pink instead of the reverse.

Where the mother was marked with a pair of lightning bolts, a series of whistles adorned the daughter’s flanks. No one, least of all little Wind Whistler herself, was sure of the meaning.

Firefly went to follow her, but the filly skidded to a stop.

“I mustn’t agitate them further,” she said, not looking away from the ducks. “I shall follow them slowly. Hello, Mother. It is most agreeable to see you once again. Will you accompany me… no, no, wait!”

She turned to face her mother with a look of surprise, as if she’d just noticed her. She then ran toward her, her voice high and cheerful. “Hi, Mommy! It’s great to see you again! How was, uh,” she paused to think of the next appropriate line. “How was work?”

The filly looked down, and when she spoke again, her voice had returned to normal - her normal; emotionless, clinical, and unsettlingly unchildlike to many who heard it, but music to Firefly’s ears. “No, that’s not quite right,” she declared. “Wait, wait… give me a moment.”

She looked back to her mother, and this time, spoke with her father’s precise accent and pattern.

“Hey, hot stuff. How’s the delivery game?”

Firefly burst out laughing, but quickly covered her mouth with a wing. If she’d been told that she was hearing his best attempt at a child’s voice, she’d have believed it. She wished he could have seen it, but Tornado worked odd hours. He wouldn’t be back until later that night.

Firefly shook her head. “Wind Whistler, you…”

“Of course that’s not right,” Wind Whistler said quickly. “Wait, I can do it!” In an imitation of Firefly’s old friend Medley, as scarily perfect as her impression of her father had been, she tried, “That’s some great flying! You’ll blow ‘em away at that competition!” And then, her voice instantly returning to normal again, she calmly asked, “How was that? Does it align more closely with a customary greeting?”

Through it all, her face remained expressionless.

“Oh, Wind Whistler,” Firefly said. “With this sort of thing, there’s one very important rule you must always remember.”

“Yes, Mother?”

“You never, ever, ever have to try to sound like everyone else, or anyone else, with me. Or your father.”

“Are you certain? I have heard others describe me as strange. Unsettling. My demeanor has always been inconsistent with what they appear to expect. And sometimes some of them become angry, or laugh when I wasn’t attempting humor, or they look at me the way you do when I’ve been ill or injured. My technique must be refined.”

Firefly knew her daughter well enough to know some of her tells. Her face still didn’t change, and her voice didn’t crack or rise, but she was talking faster now - only slightly, enough that someone who didn’t know her well might miss it. But to Firefly, she may as well have burst into tears.

She’d seen the misunderstandings her daughter faced, had to step in more than once when adults thought she was being defiant because surely someone so intelligent couldn’t really have not understood this or that, and knew that though some of her fellow foals were impressed by the things she knew or could do, some weren’t nearly so kind, and few understood her well enough for real closeness. As ever, she remained her serious, logical self through it all, and Firefly wondered if it ever got through her armor.

Listening to her try to sound like everyone else, hearing the way talking about it changed the way she spoke even a little, that she was talking about it at all instead of the thing that had occupied her attention all day long… that was a yes, it seemed.

Firefly wrapped the filly in her wings and held her close. “I am certain. I wish I could say bridging the gap between you and others gets easy, but… it will get easier, over the years. But most importantly, you deserve to find others who’ll love you just the way you are, like your father and I do! It’s not wrong to be different. Look at me, I hang out with other athletes. We run, and fly, and make everything a race or some kind of competition… and I love Medley, but I can’t carry a tune in a bucket,” she said.

It was true that Wind Whistler could sometimes be literal-minded, but she’d explained that metaphor to her once before. At least once or twice per conversation, Firefly added something like that; practice for the filly who had trouble understanding such things.

Firefly went on. “Medley is amazing when it comes to anything related to music. She can just read the sheet music and play a song she’s never heard before, she knows all these complicated terms, and when she’s with other musicians it’s like they’re speaking another language… what I’m saying is, we’re very different but it’s okay, and we’re still friends.”

“I find your singing to be very pleasing, Mother,” Wind Whistler said. “But I believe I understand.”

She seemed to, but then, she always did.

“I always thought I was the worst because I was always comparing myself to her, and it’s her thing,” Firefly said. “Maybe it’s not very logical to think like that,” she added pointedly. “But my point is, either of us would be the one who’s different, and confused, and confusing, if one of us was crammed in a room with all the other one’s other friends all the time. And we’d think less of ourselves if we compared ourselves to them at their own game. But it doesn’t mean either of us is wrong, or that we can’t be friends or understand each other. And also, there’s others who are into the same things and think the way as you do. I won’t lie, it’s harder than if it’s something like music or flying. But you’ll find your… your teammates, your orchestra.”

Wind Whistler paused for a moment, hopefully considering it. “Thank you, Mother,” she said at last.

The filly’s face and voice rarely gave away her feelings, but the fact that she’d listened so long, that she remained in her mother’s embrace even with her all-important experiment at stake, told Firefly all she needed to know.

Finally, Wind Whistler did step away. “I must continue my observation,” she said. “My methods would take too long to explain - well, longer than most ponies seem to want to listen. But, my final results should prove most informative.”

Once again, she was talking a little faster than she usually did, subtly enough that anyone who wasn’t related to her might not notice. Firefly guessed that this time, she must be very excited about her experiment. Of course, it could also mean that she was still upset at her most recent speedbumps when it came to communicating with the ponies around her. Knowing that faster speech sometimes meant she was feeling something pretty strongly didn’t always mean knowing what that feeling was.

“So, what are you doing?” she asked. “It looks like you’re just watching the ducks.”

“I am,” Wind Whistler answered. “It has taken many hours of careful observation.”

Firefly again thought back to how she hadn’t seen Wind Whistler as she’d gone out that morning. Sleeping in wasn’t the filly’s way. “Wait, hours? Where were you when I left this morning? Don’t tell me you were out here.”

Wind Whistler hesitated, either not wanting to answer or taking a moment to remember that “don’t tell me” wasn’t usually meant literally. Firefly had taught her that one long ago.

“If I am to be honest, then that is what I must tell you,” she said. “I have indeed been following them since before you awoke.”

“The entire time?” Firefly said. “You didn’t eat or anything?”

“I hadn’t the time,” Wind Whistler said. “It was rather difficult and time consuming to catch each duck to attach the label ribbons, but it was worth it to be certain of which is which. Telling them apart might have presented difficulty.”

“‘Might have presented difficulty?’ It’d be impossible!”

“You understand my dilemma, then. Four and Twelve are of similar size, and Fifteen and Nine share that dark patch by the neck. Six, Eight, and Eleven all have a similar white patch in back… it’s easy with the others because they have multiple distinguishing features, but it would indeed be impossible to be certain of avoiding any misidentification.”

“I wouldn’t have thought anyone could tell them apart that well.”

“Really?” Wind Whistler said. “I do not find it particularly difficult. Even so, proper research protocols should be followed. I must be thorough.” Wind Whistler pointed at one of the ducks. “Look there, see how Twelve sometimes wanders away from the others. I’ve observed him for signs of any cognitive differences, but it’s difficult to tell after only seventeen hours of observation. Clearly, more will be needed.”

“Seventeen - you mean, you’ve been watching those ducks since late last night? When did you sneak out of the house?”

“I was not sneaking, Mother,” Wind Whistler protested. “I went to bed when instructed; I remained for some time. Was that...” she hesitated; either uncertainty, or one of the ducks had made a sound she needed to pay attention to. “Was that not what I was supposed to do?”

Firefly sighed. “You’d make a great lawyer, if your scientific career doesn’t pan out. That excuse wouldn’t get you anywhere if you were any other kid, but you’re really not trying to twist what I said, are you?”

“I do not understand,” Wind Whistler said. “Have I done something I should not have? If so, I am sorry.”

Wind Whistler’s voice remained matter-of-fact and even, and her eyes never left the ducks, but her folded wings were tightening against her body. She really was getting worried. Firefly always took a measured approach to those moments, finding a balance between nurturing and helping her to become stronger and more knowledgeable. Instead of wrapping her up in her wings again, she simply stepped a little closer.

“I’m not angry, I just want you to get enough sleep so you don’t fly right into a Stratodon’s jaws or something. From now on, stay in bed at least until the sun comes up, okay?” She thought for a moment about how her literal-minded daughter might take that. “...unless you need to use the bathroom, or some danger means you shouldn’t stay in bed... you know, just be logical about it. You’re good at that.”

“I will comply,” Wind Whistler said.

“So, you hungry? What did you eat out here?”

“There is only arrowgrass in the immediate vicinity, and I must continue my observation.” Wind Whistler said. “I do not believe that I will starve if I don’t eat for a day or two, however.”

“A day or-” Firefly sighed. “Probably not, but I’m not gonna wait and see how long you can go. We can stay here for a while longer, but once the sun sets, I’m dragging you to the dinner table.”

“But—!”

Firefly gave her a look.

“Dragging will not be necessary,” Wind Whistler said. Most others would miss the disappointment in her voice, but Firefly had had to pull her away from one of her projects to eat or sleep more than a few times - sometimes literally.

“Glad to hear it,” Firefly said.

For a time, the two were silent, Wind Whistler watching the ducks and Firefly watching her watch them. Few knew that Firefly even knew how to sit still this long, but she actually had Wind Whistler to thank for it. Seeing the world again through the eyes of a child who was just discovering it all had taught her to appreciate it again, to take time to pay attention to it instead of simply flying over. When something in the trees or the water would distract Wind Whistler, Firefly would look herself, try to see what had stood out so much that Wind Whistler had decided it was worth diverting her attention from her project.

The sun began to set, and the two were soon surrounded by the glow of the mother’s namesake insect.

“Did you know that different species of firefly have different flash patterns?” Wind Whistler said, breaking the silence for the first time in a while. “The male and female members of the same species also have different patterns, it lets them recognize each other.”

“I didn’t know that,” Firefly said. “But do you know why I call myself Firefly?”

“I believed that it was due to your speed. You could appear to come out of nowhere and vanish as quickly, similar to the light of the insects.”

“That’s what I let everyone think. The fact is, when I was just a bit older than you, and practicing my stunts, I crash-landed in this area all the time. It’s the nearest water and it softens your landing some, but not totally. Or at all, if you miss and hit the dirt facefirst.” She motioned with her hooves. “Eeeeeeeeeeoooom… SMACK! Ptooey!”

Wind Whistler giggled. Firefly wished she could hear that laugh more often. Hopefully, it was natural, and not something she felt she was ‘supposed’ to do.

“Yeah. I got to see a lot of fireflies as I limped back to the house, or waited for Posey to come to me with her medicinal plants. She never needed so many before I came along, she always said. I took the name because it represents never giving up on getting it right, even when it hurts, at least to me.”

“Probably the change in air currents. It’s different over the water, the land, and the marsh to the southeast.” Wind Whistler said. “As you fly even a short distance, you encounter varying atmospheric conditions.”

“You know, that’s probably it,” Firefly said. The stunt flyer had known full well that that was the cause for years, of course, but wasn’t going to tell her that. “And you know... remembering those times also keeps me a bit more humble.”

Wind Whistler quirked an eyebrow. “Curious. Aunt Medley has said that being humble is not a trait that you are known for.”

“Oh, did she,” Firefly said. “Remind me to throw a really big rock at her... no, don’t give me that look, I wouldn’t actually do that. Remind me to tell you what a joke is someday.”

The eyebrow went up again. “A Crabnasty, a dragon, and a troll walk into a bar,” Wind Whistler deadpanned. “They all say ‘ow.’”

Firefly laughed. “That’s a good one! Where did you hear that?”

“There are many jokes that begin with characters entering a drinking establishment. I didn’t understand most of the ones that I have heard, so I considered it carefully for some time. I still fail to understand the other jokes, but I realized that the word ‘bar’ has multiple meanings, and the logical result of walking into a different kind of bar than the one that is usually intended would be quite painful. It seemed amusing when I thought of it.” She paused. “Did I do it right? I think I’m starting to understand these things.”

Firefly laughed and hugged her with a wing. “You’re not supposed to explain a joke. But, that was a good one! Mind if I use it sometimes?”

“Really?” Wind Whistler said instantly. “I would like that. Will you tell them that I was the source?” There it was again, the way she was talking a little faster. When it was about something good, from her it was as good as hopping with excitement.

“I’ll be sure to give credit where it’s due, pumpkin.”

“You still insist on that nickname,” Wind Whistler said. A second or two later, she remembered to add a sigh.

“You better believe it,” Firefly said. “When you were a baby, it took the rest of your body a while to catch up with the size of your head. I should have known back then that I’d have a genius on my hooves.“

“Perhaps that should be my name, then. We could have another naming ceremony.”

Firefly laughed. “You really are practicing the joke thing, aren’t you? Though I hope you stop short of my level of sarcasm.”

“Keeping that up for an extended period would be virtually impossible,” she said.

Dusk faded to darkness as mother and daughter followed the ducks down the river, back onto the riverbanks a few miles downstream, and eventually, back to the road that led past their home.

“Here we are,” Firefly said, stopping by the “Duck Crossing” sign as Wind Whistler’s subjects crossed the road. “I’m still not sure what it is you’re trying to see, but it’ll have to wait ‘til morning. Don’t want your dad to start worrying, do we?”

“No, Mother,” she said. “Perhaps I shall learn more next time.”

“What is it you wanted to find out, anyway?” she said. “Try as I might, I can’t see what you were looking for.”

“It is a very difficult puzzle that has bothered me for quite some time,” she said.

“Oh?” Firefly said.

“This is where the ducks always cross, is it not?” She gestured to the ‘Duck Crossing’ sign with a wingtip.

“Of course,” Firefly said.

“Their level of intelligence consistently appears to be lower than what most of us would consider sapient. I have monitored them extensively, and all of what I have seen appears to confirm this, even though individual subjects can show different levels of understanding.”

“Yup,” Firefly said. “They eat, they quack, they get in the way of your cargo carriages and you’ve got to gradually slow ‘em down so you don’t get squashed if you stop short.”

“You understand. In which case… how is it that they are able to understand the signs well enough to consistently cross the pathways at the designated points?”

Firefly froze.

“Mother?” Wind Whistler said.

Firefly covered her mouth with both wings, and turned away from Wind Whistler, and tried to hold her breath. Don’t you dare laugh at her after everything she told you before! she shouted at herself internally. She tried to scrape her leg against the nearest tree hard enough to hurt without being obvious.

None of it helped, and soon she was laughing her flanks off, leaning against a tree so as not to fall over.

“M-mother?”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, honey! I don’t mean to, you know?”

“I do not understand,” Wind Whistler said. “As usual, it seems.”

This time, Firefly did wrap her in her wings again. “Listen… the ducks… they don’t cross where we tell them to, we just put the signs where they always cross. The signs just warn us so we can slow down. It takes time if you’ve got a big carriage hitched to you, you see.”

“Oh,” Wind Whistler said. “Oh. I believe I… can see… how one might find that humorous.” She lowered her voice. “Keeping your silence on this matter would be greatly appreciated. I am prepared to offer my services in the kitchen, indefinitely.”

“Hey, don’t offer too much too soon,” Firefly said. “Negotiation’s an art. And you know I’ve got no secrets from your dad, or Medley,” Firefly said. When she stepped back, she could see that Wind Whistler’s face was bright red, even through her fur. “But, it doesn’t have to go any farther than the two of them,” she added.

“Thank you,” Wind Whistler said, turning to walk down the path towards home.

“And don’t worry about getting things wrong!” Firefly said cheerfully. “It’s how we learn. You gotta land facefirst in the swamp a few times before you can master the tricks! Trial and error, that’s just how life works - even the biggest brain around can’t cut the ‘error’ part out.”

“I suppose not,” Wind Whistler said simply.

“C’mon, pumpkin,” Firefly said quietly. “Let’s head home.”

Wind Whistler walked in silence for a while, her usual neutral expression no doubt still concealing her… was it disappointment in the mystery having a simple solution, or in herself for making a mistake? Or had Firefly done more damage than she thought by laughing?

Firefly watched her daughter walk at a steady pace, no sign of her feelings making themselves known.

What I’m doing right now - this is you all the time, isn’t it? Firefly thought. Trying to figure out people who just aren’t wired the same way. Doing the math about what means what, always sure you’re probably getting it wrong. My poor pumpkin.

Wonder what you’re thinking right now. Are you designing a better carriage that can slow down faster in your mind, doing all these big calculations from some complicated physics book you read once last year and still have memorized, thinking of how you’d get the pony in the harness to be able to reach the control, and how the brake would lock down on the wheel just so and maybe a net so the items in the carriage won’t be thrown forward? Or are you mad at yourself about the ducks, kicking yourself the way you do every single time you’re not perfect, as if anyone expects you to-

“Mother?” Wind Whistler said, not turning to look at Firefly.

“Mm-hmm?” Firefly said.

“As you have mentioned, it is rather late in the evening, and our absence may cause Father to worry. Also, I have noted a significant increase in the number of mosquitoes that surrounds us.”

“You’re telling me,” Firefly said, flicking her tail at the insects.

“As such, I have a proposal for you to consider,” Wind Whistler said. Now, she did stop and turn to face her mother.

“Lay it on me,” Firefly said. At Wind Whistler’s quirked eyebrow, she amended it to, “Let’s hear it.”

“It is quite simple,” Wind Whistler said. “Race you home.”

And with that, Wind Whistler blasted off into the sky.

Ah, that kid, Firefly thought with a grin. “Ten seconds head start, pumpkin!” she shouted after her. “After that, no mercy!”

You’re going to be just fine, pumpkin, Firefly thought as she counted down, and then took off after her.

I promise.

Author's Note:

Wind Whistler may be a genius, but she was a kid once too, and genius kids are still kids sometimes! Finding her voice was tough - though she still talks much more formally than anyone around her, a child in her second or third year of school just hasn’t been exposed to as many things, or learned as many words, as the adult version. You can’t write ‘em the same way. I must have tweaked every single one of her lines ten times...

As for the idea of her being Firefly’s daughter, it’s not as farfetched as you think - they’ve got the same colors, but the placement’s swapped! People will say “but they’re the same age,” to which I say… says who? We are never told anyone’s age. I like to think of present-day Firefly as one of the older members of the group. In FIM terms, she's less Rainbow Dash and more who Rainbow Dash will be in 15-20 or so years when she has Spitfire's job.

As for Wind Whistler's dad, there’s no dramatic or sinister reason for him to be late today. Tornado didn’t run off with some cute flutterpony or get eaten by stratadons; I just didn’t have anything for him to do!

Comments

[hawthornbunny]

Welcome to Fimfiction! This was a cute little fic. No grammar issues, good pacing, nice characterization that comes through easily and clearly, and Wind Whistler is adorbs. <3

If I have a suggestion it's that maybe there could be more environment/location description, although this might just be my lack of G1 knowledge that prevents me from getting a clear picture in my head.

A few other nitpicks:

In truth, the blue-furred pegasus was far from the cloud layer high above

Firefly has a pink coat. I assume you meant "blue-maned". :)

----

On Fimfiction you can use the [hr] tag, which makes a nice-looking horizontal break.

Also, randomly; may I suggest that you check out The Lunaverse? It's a long-running alternate-universe MLP series which I really enjoy, and your story put me in mind of it. I think you might like it. :)

[EcliptorCalrissian]

9298740
@hawthornbunny
D'oh! I'll have to go back and change that, about Firefly's mane, dunno how I missed that in editing. >_< Thanks.

As for the location, I don't think it's something that more G1 knowledge would help with. I just pictured a super generic riverbank down the path from a super generic house and didn't go into detail 'cause I thought it wasn't important. :p

[Halira]

A tiny suggestion to help this story out in addition to what hawthirnbunny already mentioned; add a cover art to this. If need be just a stock picture of Wind Whistler from the internet would work.