Equestrian Concepts

by Achaian

Chapter Two: Train of Thought, part two

Chapter Two

Train of Thought, Part 2

A gentle beam of light careened along the harrowing journey, from the nuclear depths of Celestia’s domain, through the blackening miasma of space, the void between the stars, through countless asteroids and dust particles, the upper atmosphere; it broke through a cloud, finally piercing a glass window, bending and distorting as it went, to alight softly on an awakening Ditzy’s face.

Ditzy yawned and hugged Dinky tighter. Her precious daughter was still asleep, lost with a giddy smile in dreams that no doubt encompassed adventures larger than imagination itself. Ditzy had had some bewildering dreams as well, and none that she wanted to remember. Fire had figured prominently in some, mostly starting under her control—inevitably though, it had always spiraled into volcanic proportions, snatching up Ditzy and leaving only ashes in its wake. The burning shards of flame that had controlled her shone potently, maliciously bright, threatening to sear Ditzy's mind itself until her memories vaporized. They weren’t nice dreams, and Ditzy had been left with a feeling of painful helplessness. Crushed under the torment of the destruction she wreaked, at last she had felt someone take her by the shoulders and suddenly, gracefully, lift her out of the fire.

After that, the dreaming had become less turbulent and eventually subsided into the bliss of relaxation, of the absence of noise, the absence of turmoil, a healing sleep. Soft sensations overrode agony, soothing painful recollections. It had all probably meant something nice. She could go ask Twilight Sparkle if she had any books on the interpretation of dreams; actually, she hadn’t been to the library in some time. It probably had to do with knocking over the biggest shelf in the library or something—that tended to discourage further visits, despite Twilight’s kindness about it and their friendship.

Then the events of the last few days almost cast their pallor over Ditzy—her face would have darkened, but having an adorable sleeping foal snuggle you tended to dispel those feelings. Why must I always let go of you? Ditzy asked with internal resignation, thoughts wandering.

The mention of Twilight had made her think about Rainbow Dash and then everything that had happened in the unfortunate last few days. Gently disentangling herself from Dinky’s embrace, Ditzy slipped out of bed and downstairs, intent on getting some breakfast before tackling the day. Conveniently, she had disposed of all the muffin mix and some of the more muffin-centric cooking elements in her kitchen after Discord had visited. Ditzy shuddered as unpleasant memories lurked at the edge of her consciousness. The void of muffins in her kitchen served as an unconscious reminder, just enough to keep Ditzy on edge as she made breakfast for herself and Dinky. Ditzy scrawled a reminder for Dinky and left it next to her plate. It read: “Don’t be late for school, make sure to pay attention in class, and don’t forget to have fun! Love, Mom.”

Ditzy started out for the mailmare’s office slowly, rethinking in particular the events of last night. She had come to the determination that it was her fault: no matter the provocation that anypony could offer, it was never deserving of another wrong turn. She was trotting along the road, not flying—she had set out a little earlier; she needed a little time, and although it might make her late she would undoubtedly still get there much earlier than Rainbow Dash. She grimaced as she recalled her intentions of that evening. It was almost like she had turned into him, intent on spreading malice and pain. Had the recollections of Discord’s torment not shook her out of her haze of anger, she knew she would have done something regrettable. Ditzy had the most unnerving feeling that the cold-bloodedness that had possessed her was the same way that Discord felt whenever he visited his nefarious actions on others. Ditzy had felt justified, after all, right up until that turning point when Dash had reminded her… well, of her after Discord had finished with her.

Discord has to have the strangest attitude toward life to be able to do what he does. It doesn’t make any sense to just go around and cause random pain or pleasure to everyone he meets. Then again, everypony else does that too, whether they intend to or not. Every interaction, even the slightest glance in a single day, affected the lives of other ponies, and that small yet important realization let a small glimmer of chance into her thought. Maybe Discord didn’t know what he was doing.

“No,” Ditzy mused aloud, drawing no stares on the still-vacant early morning street; her reaction had been strong enough to draw a verbal answer. He knew exactly what he was doing.

Discord had to know that his actions had consequences, otherwise he would react very differently instead of his apparent uncaring for the fate of his victims. Although, not everypony got hurt, Ditzy conceded to herself. His reign of chaos had stayed true to randomness. Dinky had been out with Cheerilee and the class during a field trip at one of the Apple family orchards at the time, and by all accounts the changing of apples into marshmallows, leaves turning chocolate, a nearby stack of logs becoming graham crackers while Scootaloo’s mane burst into harmless purple fire had reportedly resulted in the most epic s’more time ever. All Ditzy knew beyond that was that it had been terribly difficult to get all the molten chocolate and marshmallows out of Dinky’s mane. Dinky had seemed happy enough, though, and it had been a welcome distraction from her own visitation. And he reserved the cruelest part for me.

It was deliberate.

Discord had to have his own problems. He never seemed to talk to anypony for long enough to discuss his own life—he usually just barged into others lives’ in an extremely unconventional manner for short periods of time before disappearing in a puff of smoke or behind the cover of an exploding chunk of chocolate milk. He might just need kindness, understanding and caring, healing. He might need a hug, too, if not for all the ways he’d twist it.

Ditzy arrived at the mailmare’s office, opening the door and almost running straight into Rainbow Dash.

What the hay? Dash was on time, in uniform… and looking at Ditzy nervously.

That was unexpected. Ditzy eventually broke out of her surprised expression and turned to close the office door. She had half-expected Dash to not show up at all after what had happened, and Ditzy wouldn’t have blamed her. She had had no plan for Dash arriving earlier than her: originally, she had intended to compose an apology before Dash arrived. Even if she had been afforded that opportunity, she probably would have lost it with dark thoughts of Discord.

“So, um…” Dash began hesitantly. “The mail doesn’t run on Sunday. What are we gonna do?”

Since Dash had forgone any mention of yesterday’s disasters, Ditzy decided to do the same for now and instead get on with her work.

“Sunday is when we sort all the mail that we didn’t get to during the week. If we didn’t, the backlog of unsorted mail would eventually overload the office. That would result in a catastrophic explosion of junk mail, magazines, love letters, packages, and other general correspondence that would bury Ponyville and the surrounding area in a very flammable coat of detritus, likely leading to a terrible fire that would undoubtedly cause millions of bits in property damage, not to mention homeless or hurt ponies.”
Dash looked mortified. “Has that ever happened before?”

“Fillydelphia, about forty years ago. Most of the mail that we don’t get to during the week goes into these bins, and after that we sort it into the different routes…”

As Ditzy continued to explain, Dash listened with rapt attention. Dash intended to give Ditzy a very sincere apology, plus that fiery mail explosion sounded pretty bad to her. Loyalty and decency demanded that Dash do a good job, and apologize for her rude behavior earlier.

Ditzy was thinking along a parallel line. Dash hadn’t been the friendliest pony in Ditzy’s past, but what Ditzy had done was inexcusable. She needed to apologize for her uncharacteristic behavior, and needed to give respect to Dash if she was going to deserve any.

Business came first, both realized; it would have to wait until after the job was done. Fortunately, the work went quickly—Dash took care not to make mistakes this time, so Ditzy didn’t have to stop and correct her work. They ended up finishing not long after noon, earlier than Ditzy had ever finished before, and the office looked almost as organized as Ditzy had ever seen it.
Work had prevented them from bringing up the awkward subject of what had happened the previous evening, in addition to the strange events of the day. Ditzy was pleasantly surprised by Dash cooperating so well, especially after the way Ditzy had confronted her, how she had been within a hair’s breadth of doing something truly malicious. Dash was doubly impressed at this point—Ditzy not only put on a surprising show of calm towards Dash, but also had one of the most unintentionally dangerous jobs in Ponyville. The early end to the last work day found them facing each other, about to leave the office and both grasping unsuccessfully for words that would not come.

Ditzy hadn’t thought of an apology—thoughts of Discord had consumed her this morning, and then Dash had arrived, leaving her no time to compose something that could really make up for her display of anger. Ironic that Discord would take that chance from her, considering the mental fortitude he had drained from her already. I’m just going to have to wing it and hope for the best.
As these thoughts played through Ditzy’s mind, Dash shifted about uncomfortably. She knew full well what she had to do; it was only a matter of gathering the courage. At last, Dash cried out “I need to apologize!”

“What!?” Ditzy was more than a little surprised; her eyes wide, she felt oddly relieved. “I should be apologizing to you after how I treated you yesterday!”

“I got what I deserved.” Dash’s quiet mood decomposed as she bowed her head in shame. “All those things you said—about how I was doing a terrible job, how I have a problem with responsibility… I don’t deserve my Element. That wasn’t loyalty. That was abandonment. I can’t change what I’ve done, but I am sorry, Ditzy.”

The about-face startled Ditzy, granting her a shock of new thoughts about the popular pegasus. For as long as Ditzy had stayed in Ponyville, her rare interactions with Dash had not been pleasant. Condescendingly, Dash had casually disrespected Ditzy, yet there was more than she had opted to remember. In that moment of clarity, Ditzy saw the clear worries that had crippled the athletic mare—and then realized her own flaws in conduct. For Ditzy was hardly blameless in her own past, even beyond the incident in the cloud-house, and she remembered now with shame that she had not always been silent against the rumors and insinuations, that she had also fueled the insidious fire with her own actions, that she had been quick to condemn and slow to forgive.

Old habits died slowly.

Why have I kept doing this? It's so easy for me to slip, but now I need to change...

To change was not easy, and the ingrained reaction of hate swelled and diminished as Ditzy battled herself. The plainly repentant Dash proved a potent catalyst, and eventually Ditzy drew up enough meager confidence to act.

Dash looked back up at Ditzy. Dash couldn’t see a whole lot through her blurred eyes, but she saw Ditzy stand next to her. A moment or two passed, and then Ditzy pulled her into a tight hug, fighting through her own inhibitions and reservations.

“What gives, Ditzy?” Dash was the slightest bit uncomfortable being caught in a tearful hug, and it showed as she squirmed. Ditzy just hugged her harder. Honestly, Dash had expected Ditzy to further condemn her atrocious acts, and certainly not be apologetic herself!

“I accept your apology,” Ditzy said, smiling despite the tears in her eyes, “Would you accept mine? You don’t have to, I was just… angry. I feel terrible because of it. I haven't been—”

“I think I deserve what I got,” Dash said, cutting her off before she could apologize for more distant wrongs and still looking for a release from the unrelenting embrace. “But I still accept your apology. And, uh, could you loosen up on the hug a little?”

“Sorry,” Ditzy said, disengaging her hug and setting Dash back on the ground. She felt uncertain in the moment, still reeling from her realization.

“Just one question. How come you never told about that mail explosion thing earlier? It sounds awesome!”

“You probably would have tried to set one off,” Ditzy replied, tone marginally accusatory, but she was beyond her turbid emotion now.

“Yeah,” Dash agreed. “It would have been cool though!”

“And that’s why you’re a weather pegasus instead of a mailmare.” Ditzy said with a slight smile, poking Dash playfully.

Rainbow Dash and Ditzy Doo laughed as they exited the mailmare’s office, only to find themselves about to part in opposite directions.

“You know what?” Dash said. “You’re not so bad. And I still think I owe you. Can we forget this and be friends?” She said hopefully, holding out her hoof.

Ditzy didn’t answer, but instead grinned, shook Dash’s hoof, and pulled her into a hug. You have no idea how glad I am that I can still forgive you.

“Alright,” Dash sighed with mock seriousness. “You got me.” Dash hugged Ditzy back this time, and then waved goodbye before flying off into the distance.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Ditzy arrived at the train station after dropping Dinky off to find Twilight Sparkle waiting for her. Upon seeing Ditzy, Twilight set her book down on the bench (titled The Horrendous Fillydelphian Mail Explosion) and called her over.

“Hello, Ditzy. Rainbow Dash came over last night and started babbling about mail explosions. I was wondering: was the Fillydelphian mail explosion really so bad they had to impose martial law? This book seems a little… fanciful.” She glanced dubiously back at the cover.

Ditzy shifted slightly, not so much interested in the book as the reasons for it being there. “It was probably that bad. How did you know to find me here?”

“Dash told me. Oh, that reminds me.” Twilight dug through her bag until she found a large envelope. “These are for you. Dash told me that you were going on vacation, and she suggested that we get you something to show our appreciation for all the hard work you do, especially considering you keep Ponyville from exploding on a regular basis.”

Ditzy opened the unusually large envelope with moderate amounts of curiosity and self-imposed caution. Inside it contained—No, what—her eyes had to be misaligned, tricking her.

First class train tickets, five star hotel passes, a ticket to a concert. She didn’t even get to recognize the rest of the contents before she looked up in shock. This was… unexpected, to say the least.

“I, what!?” Ditzy stuttered. “How did you afford all of this!? I didn’t want this from you. I don’t deserve any of this.”

“Apparently Rainbow Dash thinks you do,” Twilight said with a satisfied smile. “She was the one who organized it. After she calmed down from talking about horrendous mail explosions, she mentioned your vacation. We ended up rounding up the rest of the Elements and a few others by the end of the day and we all agreed that you deserved something to show how much you mean to us, although Dash was the one who came up with the idea.”

“The interesting part, though,” Twilight continued, “Is when Dash ended up trying to contribute more than Rarity. In fact, Rainbow Dash gave so much that Rarity thought that Dash was trying to show her up! We had to stop them short of selling their houses, but, ah…” Twilight said with a guilty grin. “It was pretty entertaining watching them dig through their couches for spare bits. I’ve never seen Dash as inspired as she was—but Rarity is the Element of Generosity, after all, and she does run a very successful business. She won in the end, but Dash put up an impressive fight. What happened to make her so fired up?” Twilight looked at Ditzy quizzically.

“I think that’s something that’s going to stay between good friends, at least for now.” Ditzy smiled, remembering Dash’s nervous reaction to open displays of some of her more embarrassing emotions. Although she might have gotten just a bit more comfortable with her encounter, considering how passionately she had pursued her atonement, despite Ditzy feeling at ease with Dash now.

“Alright then…” Twilight said, still curious but respectful of her friends’ privacy. “I’ll see you later—the library is still a mess after that strange mute passed through. He had the most unusual eyes…” Twilight muttered the last bit to nopony in particular, trotting off back to the library. He had gone through the entire section of books on history before Nightmare Moon’s banishment in a single day—something that Twilight would be hard-pressed to do, although admittedly that section was a little lacking. He wouldn’t talk, either—he didn’t appear used to not being able to talk, unusually enough. Twilight’s thoughts drifted back into planning the checklist of checklists she would need to clean up all the books he had left lying around.

Ditzy called out her thanks several times as Twilight trotted away. An hour later, the train arrived, and Ditzy boarded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Silent implications of secretive intents and hope regained pervaded Ditzy's mind. The wind was blowing through her mane, but she pulled her head back inside the train car, mostly because of the approaching tunnel. It was cold in there, and Ditzy didn’t want to freeze, much less stick her head out into the dark.

Ditzy had been floored, to say the least. The last week had been degrading, terrifying, perilous, anxious, surprising, but finally, and most of all, joyous. She had done things she wasn’t proud of, but it had turned out better than her wildest dreams. She wouldn’t have it any other way: if she hadn’t done exactly what she did, or didn’t do, the end result would be different. Ditzy couldn’t imagine a better result, though. Rainbow Dash had been the last of the Elements to hold the belief that she was an emotionally bereft clutz, and in a small town like Ponyville, the Elements carried some pretty hefty weights with their opinions, whether they realized it or not.

Ditzy was certainly feeling amiable as she wandered about her car, noting again the finery and the absence of other ponies. She would have really liked to have someone to talk to in her good mood, but ironically the first-class cars were designed for ponies who would rather shut themselves up, away from everypony else, rather than socialize. Ditzy could be somewhat bubbly if she was very happy, although she hadn’t really displayed it. Some even went as far to speculate that her cutie mark was, in fact, bubbles, but she couldn’t imagine why. She didn’t do anything involving bubbles. Most thought it had to do with bubble wrap, which would explain why she was a good mailmare, despite the occasional mixup. I don’t see why they cared about it and not me. It was a moot point for them to speculate. If they had wanted to know, why didn’t they just talk to me and figure it out that way?

The door to the cabin swung open, startling Ditzy out of her reverie. The same young earth pony entered who had earlier served Ditzy breakfast, with her cinnamon coat and white mane. It almost looked like it was sculpted out of ice, but somehow still managed to flow about her form as she moved. She looked a little less haggard now, but still troubled. It was clear to Ditzy that her mind was somewhere else as she brought in the lunch cart.

“Hello!” Ditzy said, bringing the other pony back into awareness.

“Oh, hello Miss..?”

“Ditzy Doo. You can call me Ditzy.”

“Can I get anything for you, Miss Ditzy?”

“You can drop the miss, I don’t care much for formalities. How about you take a break and talk for a while? You look like you’ve been working hard.”

The white-and-cinnamon pony glanced around, saw nopony else, and then flopped out on the couch opposite the bed with much less grace than was implied by her previously respectful and dignified composure.

“They do work us pretty hard,” she admitted, “And I think I owe you my name, seeing as I know yours.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Ditzy said, grabbing a cup of coffee off the lunch cart. It was a bit late for coffee, not to mention that she usually didn’t drink much coffee, but she wanted to be at full steam for when she arrived at Canterlot.
She shrugged as if it didn’t matter.

Ditzy took a sip of coffee, then her eyes widened.

“So, uh, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but…”

“This is really good coffee! Did you make this?”

“Yes, I did.” The earth pony seemed a little perturbed by being interrupted, but also simultaneously pleased and pained by the comment. “I was, uh, wondering…”

“Go on.”

“What happened to your eyes?”

Ditzy shrugged. She wasn’t terribly surprised that that was the question, but it wasn’t something that she was asked often. Most ponies assumed she was sensitive about it (she wasn’t) or wouldn’t ask her about them—so they ended up speculating behind her back about all kinds of crazy explanations. Ditzy hadn’t expected her to open the conversation with that kind of inquiry; most ponies with tact skirted the issue. She found that particular kind of tact to be more irritating than respectful.

“The truth is, I don’t know. They’ve been that way as long as I can remember.”

“Did you never have a doctor check them out when you were young?”

“I didn’t grow up in a situation where we had ready access to a doctor. I lived in the slums of Las Pegasus for most of my early life.”

“I’m sorry.” She looked terribly perturbed, and straightened into a more formal position.

“My eyes are actually pretty useful. I can still focus on one thing most of the time, but I can also kind-of look at look at two things at once. Like a chameleon. I stopped doing that when I realized how odd it looked.”

“I meant that I’m sorry you grew up in a slum!” The yet-unnamed earth pony shifted the rest of the way upright, until she was sitting properly facing Ditzy. “That sounds terrible… I grew up in Canterlot, and although Canterlot has its 'interesting' locales, I never faced anything like that.”

“It was bad, but I had my support.” Ditzy gave a half-smile as she remembered her mother.

“What do you do for a living?”

“I work as a mailmare.”

The white-maned pony leaned back and laughed. “A mailmare in a first-class cabin to Canterlot? What do you really do?”

“I told you, I’m a mailmare,” Ditzy protested.

“Is that what your mark is for?”

Something in the back of Ditzy’s head went off at that question. She had expected it to be an inquiry about how a lowly mailmare could afford first class tickets. That would have been a reasonable question, and Ditzy would have had a reasonable answer to it. This must be something that was touchy to this unnamed young mare—something that Ditzy seized upon. She had flinched in just the slightest way when Ditzy complemented her coffee, too.

“Why?” Ditzy said, looking straight into her eyes.

“Err….” She seemed entirely unexpected for such a line of questioning.

“I mean, why would you ask that question?” Ditzy clarified.

The younger pony squirmed in her seat slightly. “I don’t think that’s…”

“Coffee?” Ditzy inquired, noticing the cup of foaming brown liquid accented by a swirling path of white inscribed on her flank, even as she shifted to hide it.

“Oh, buck it.” She sighed, resting her head on her hooves as she frowned and stared at the floor. “I might as well tell you why I’m here. You’re getting close enough as it is.”

“You have my attention.” Ditzy said. She was now wide awake and very attentive, least of all because of the coffee. Maybe I can help her, or maybe she just needs someone to talk to.

"I mean, you don't mind if I talk about myself a little? I don't want to vent to somepony who doesn't care." She was nervous, visibly insecure, and Ditzy took full note.

"I'm not anypony important, and you don’t need to say anything you don’t want to. You can vent if you want to; I'm not going to tell anypony," Ditzy assured her.

“Just don’t interrupt me, okay?” The young white-and-cinnamon pony said, with a hint of desperation.

“This is your party.”

“Alright.” She said, with a look of “here-we-go” finality. “My name is Cappivalio. My friends just call me Cap. I grew up in Canterlot in a decently well-off family, just my parents and my older sister and me. I was pretty good at school, got my cutie mark about the same time as everypony else. My life was nice, and I never really thought about what I was going to do with the rest of it—mostly because of what happened to my sister.”

Ditzy was reaching for the pot of coffee on the cart to pour herself a second cup (it was magnificent coffee, Ditzy normally loathed the taste) when Cap stopped. She was staring at a speck on the metallic floor, seemingly absorbing all its narrow length and width.

“What happened to your sister?” Ditzy prompted.

“It just kind of all fell into her hooves.” Observing Ditzy’s expression of inquiry, Cap clarified: “When she got out of school, she had her whole career lined up for her. I don’t know if she ever did any work planning it out, but all of her opportunities just sort of lined and now she’s in the Canterlot Orchestra. I guess it makes sense, considering her special talent is music anyways. I just kind of expected something to happen to me like that and it never did.”

“The other big thing is my special talent. When I got my mark, I was so happy that I got it along with the rest of my class that I never really considered what it meant.”

“It means you can make a brilliant cup of coffee!” Ditzy interjected. “I don’t even think I liked coffee before…”

“Yeah, but what’s that gonna do?!” Cappivalio snapped, glaring at Ditzy, at last revealing the root of her insecurity. “If I make coffee for a living the most I can ever do is have a menial job! I won't be able to accomplish anything notable!” She fumed, as she jammed her head onto her hooves and resumed futilely attempting to move the metallic speck via telekinesis. If Cap had had a horn, Ditzy would have been sure that the metallic speck would have been replaced by a smoldering crater with vivid molten edges.

Dawning recognition flooded Ditzy as the train continued its path under the mountains. Cap was here, on the train, as a job she had probably gotten right out of school. She was just realizing that her life wasn’t going to spring up all neat and tidy in a way that enshrined her talent. She knew exactly the problem Cap had; it was something that everypony had speculated Ditzy had, that her talent was assumedly worthless and therefore caused a pony personal problems. She had, through a combination of being overshadowed by her sister, her parents implied expectations, and her suddenly underwhelming talent—which had been just fine until now—been stopped short of recognizing her potential.

“You know,” Ditzy said, after a minute of contemplative (or brooding, depending on the opinion) silence, “My talent is bubbles.”

Cap glanced up with disbelief. “Bubbles?” she asked. “But what…”

“It could also mean bubble wrap, for my work as a mailmare.” Ditzy shrugged. “Some ponies think it’s because I act bubbly sometimes. My daughter, Dinky, thinks it stands for happiness because popping bubbles is so much fun.”

“Why?..” said Cap, who was now thoroughly and honestly confused.

“Your special talent isn’t always what you think it is. It’s even more rarely what others think it is. You decide what your talent means and how you use it. If you want to do something that you think is worthy of your sister and your parent’s respect, you have to make it worth respecting.”

Cap thought about it for a minute. “So I could do something related to coffee… but maybe not exactly making coffee? Maybe, sell a coffee brand or something?”

“If you think so!” Ditzy said with encouraging warmth. Honestly, she had no idea what Cap had in mind or even whether it would work, but Ditzy knew that confidence and an idea were essential to success. The fact that Cap had grasped a concept so quickly out of her murky mood was very promising, though. Most ponies would have wrestled with the concept for a considerable amount of time before accepting it: Cap was either smart, clever, or both. And she’s definitely ambitious, not self-satisfied.

Cap rolled back on the couch for a couple minutes as Ditzy pulled out a copy of the Canterlot Times from the cart. Ditzy realized with a start the lunch cart was probably due around sometime soon and that Cap’s time here was starting to add up. Ditzy decided to let her think for a few more minutes—it looked like she was starting to word out something silently.

“… Cloudbucks.”

“What?” Ditzy said, engrossed in the Canterlot Times. It was an article about politicians, or the underground economy of Manehattan, or something like that. It got a little difficult reading the miniscule print with her eyes disagreeing on what to read.

“Um, nothing.” Cap sat upright and then faced Ditzy for the first time in several minutes. “Listen—I want to thank you for talking to me today, and if I ever see you again, I’d really like to take more time to get to know you better.”

Ditzy looked up to see a portrait of sincerity on Cap’s face; it was a welcome contrast to the forlorn expression that had haunted her that morning.

“On one condition,” Ditzy said, with as much seriousness as she could muster.

“Yes?” Cap said, eyes wide, leaning forward to catch every word.

“You get me another cup of this delicious coffee!”

Cap groaned, and then laughed with dual hints of tiredness and hope. A couple minutes later, Cap returned with a fresh pot of coffee and many promises to come visit Ditzy when she was on her way back.

Ditzy had figured that Cap had needed somepony to talk to. Call it intuition, or a hunch, or experience, but Ditzy had known that Cap was hurting beyond what she had shown on her face, and she wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to make a friend in her excellent mood. She hadn't really intended to become Cap's confidant at first, but what had happened was done, and Ditzy was by no means displeased with the result. As Cap continued on her job to the next cabin, the train exited the tunnel and emerged into glorious sunlight—not the sharp, narrow rays that had amplified her rage but a soft and gentle illumination of her car. Shadows swept rhythmically as it passed trees, the sun bursting through at unexpected moments. Gradually, they passed to reveal the first destination on Ditzy’s vacation, Canterlot.

The elegant city of the edge of the mountain beckoned; the tall spires cast deep shadows.

Comments

[Van]

Sweet, good to see this continued again. Ideas for comments abound!

I loved the tone of the beginning, and how it lead into Dash's apology, perfect pacing and the moods Ditzy went through were forced on me pretty hard again. Very well done.

Once we hit the apology, I think it got slightly 'bumpy' for a second. The mood was still right, but the suddeness of it after the leisurely build-up caught me off guard. Something I feel also happens later during Caps' conversation with Ditzy, minor hikes.

The rest of these situations felt fairly natural, but I think there should be a little more 'resistance' to the apologies and spilling your guts to a stranger. This didn't stop me from enjoying this chapter, however.

The couple moments of comic relief, for instance, got a good laugh. The insanity of the 'mail explosion' to the Starbucks reference, something surprising to me as I've seen the latter before once or twice. Perhaps it was the handling of it that made this one more entertaining? Regardless, it was funny.

I'm going to end this comment by saying I look forward to seeing Ditzy hit Canterlot, and by hoping I see this story get more views as deserved.

[SIGAWESOME]

That would result in a catastrophic explosion of junk mail, magazines, love letters, packages, and other general correspondence that would bury Ponyville

As someone who works in a related field as Dtizy/Derpy I found this highly amusing

[Granpa_pony]

“When she got out of school, she had her whole career lined up for her. I don’t know if she ever did any work planning it out, but all of her opportunities just sort of lined and now she’s in the Canterlot Orchestra. (just sort of lined 'up' and now she's...)? Or 'streamlined'? Anyway, enough nit picking! (Just tell me to stop & I will.)(no hard feelings)
Nice of Ditsy to recognise and relate that other ponies would have unfullfilling jobs and need some encourgagement!

[ponygrad]

I was kind of hoping the goody bag was full of stuff ponies send the elements to get corporate endorsements, but the mane 6 are too ethical/busy to accept them.