The Kind Heart and the Liar

by xara

The Letter, pt. 3

I ended up sleeping a short distance inside the forest, where the trees nearly obscured vision of the cottage, but I could still see glimpses of it. I slept well, which was unusual in itself; you learn to doze lightly and uneasily when somepony might run you out of town at a moment's notice. I was pleased by the kindness that Fluttershy had shown me, though I hoped I hadn't offended her with the brief contact. That's something else I had missed - just the warmth of a pony's touch, and twice that day I had felt it. Worries aside, sleep came quickly, and I had no dreams to disturb me.

I woke beneath the maples and chestnuts, eyes bleary and with my throat parched by thirst. It was just before dawn; the horizon had begun to lighten and the stars were dimming. I've never seen Celestia, though I have an idea of what she looks like, given the depictions in the books I'd once read. I stuffed my blanket back inside my pack, picking the whole thing up and trotting towards the nearby stream.

Across the way, birds had begun flitting about the trees; no doubt they'd soon be chirping and singing. I wondered when she usually woke up.

I bent my head down to the stream and slaked my thirst. The clear, cool water had almost a hint of sweetness, but perhaps that was my optimism about the day - a somewhat unfamiliar sensation - tinting the flavor.

I had to figure out what I would do. I'd made up my mind not to leave, but I had to find some way to occupy myself if I wouldn't be walking until I was too tired to continue. Going into town was out of the question; although I considered myself fortunate to have met a pony who wasn't bothered by my silence, pressing my luck by encountering many more seemed unwise. Nor did I wish to simply sit around all day or intrude on Fluttershy, and the few books I still carried had been read and reread until I could nearly quote them all blindfolded.

I crossed the mossy stone bridge, passing to the other riverside, but did not continue up the winding path to the cottage proper. I circled the place, seeing what else was nearby.

I saw that behind the cottage were some small pens with wooden construction; from the wooden posts and stretched wire surrounding it, I guessed they were chicken coops. Next to it were some little home garden plots. Another little path emerged from the cottage's back door, passing through the gate of a wooden fence which encircled this area.

Next to the garden I saw a pile of deep wicker baskets, used to carry the vegetables after they had been picked. Ah ha! I had an idea.

I lifted the gate's latch and it swung wide without any creaks or protests to announce my presence. I moved inside, peering at the coops. If she had roosters, I hoped they weren't yet ready to crow the alarm. I sneaked over to the pile of baskets and grabbed one, biting down on the handle and shaking it free from the rest. I retreated back through the gate, hooking the latch once more.

That done, I trotted back to the forest. I shrugged off my pack and whipped it up onto the broken stub of an oak tree branch where it would stay put. I waited a bit for the sun to start shining, since this forest was darker and thicker than most, and I needed what light was available in order to complete my task.

Once the rays had begun popping through available holes in the foliage, I walked deeper into the woods, searching back and forth, trying to keep my bearings. Lots of strange beasts and plants inhabit that place, as you no doubt already know. I almost trotted straight into a small patch of poison joke, the deep blue-hued plant suddenly popping out from behind some shrubs. Though I wondered what effect that could have had on me, it was best not to indulge that curiosity.

Not long after, I started finding the goal of my search - wild blueberries! All I had seen for miles and miles before reaching Ponyville's outskirts were rows upon rows of apple orchards, though there was one that I had stood and stared at before realizing it was a Zap apple orchard - a rare occurrence in any land. I figured - correctly, I should add - that the cultivation of other fruits was a rarity for the area. I placed the basket beneath the berry bush. Grabbed a hold of the stoutest portion of the bush with my teeth - berry bushes don't respond well to bucking, as orchard trees do - and shook it violently. Loads of berries, disturbed by the vibration and subsequently breaking off, fell down to the basket, though some missed and spilled on the ground. I'm sure some animals didn't let those go to waste after I left.

I found several other bushes laden with the little blue treats, and it didn't take too long to fill the basket until it felt near to my carrying limit. With that done, I scooped the burden up and walked southwards to the forest's edge.

I passed by my hanging pack and emerged into the open grassland. Crossed the bridge; climbed the path. She might have left her home or been sleeping late; I considered knocking, but judged it better to keep my distance. So I lay the basket below an overhang to the side of the door, where it would hopefully not be struck or ruined by sunshine before being discovered. I returned across the bridge once more, hoisting my pack from off the branch stub, located a suitable place to perch, and opened up a book. I could see the cottage door from here, but I hoped the distance and my brown coat would blend me into the background.

It must have been hours later that I finally noticed movement larger than that of a bird or a squirrel. It seemed she had indeed left before I had come back, as she came up the path at a trot. She drew closer to the cottage and slowed, noticing the basket which had been filled nearly to the brim. Fluttershy turned; I saw her head scanning around, likely guessing who had deposited the gift and wondering where I was, but I ducked low, and if she saw, she did not react.

She opened the cottage door and pushed the basket of blueberries inside with a hoof, then closed the door and left almost as soon as she had arrived. She had the most amusing and unique gait as she took off down the path - I could never forget it. Her hooves moved as if in a canter, but at the zenith of each arc, her wings sparked into motion and she soared a good three or four yards of distance. It looked, well, joyous. I wondered if she was singing or humming, but I was too far to hear.

After some more uneventful waiting, I saw her return, using a normal walk, but behind her bounced a pink-coated mare. Both of them carried small sacks. The two ponies disappeared through the cottage door. After several minutes, wisps of smoke arose from the chimney, evidence of cookery, and I smiled, guessing that Fluttershy had come up with a use for the berries. I inched closer to the line separating the forest from the grassland; despite the distance, I could hear singing from within the cottage, but that... that couldn't be Fluttershy's voice. The words were unclear, but the high-pitched, almost squeaking tone was certainly not hers. Whoever the pink pony was, she was certainly enthusiastic about baking.

A side window opened, and two pies slid out onto the sill, steam rising from them into the air. I backed cautiously away, and just in time, for the pink one burst out the front door, waving a hoof behind her and bounding down the path until she disappeared.

Fluttershy came outside then, but stood just past the door, and I couldn't tell what she intended. I thought she might call out to me, trying to see if I was around, but surprisingly, she gave a shrill whistle instead. From all the nearby trees, birds perked up at the sound and halted the flitting around they had been doing. They descended upon her, landing on her head, in her mane, on her back, and at her hooves. I saw her lower her head; I could see her mouth moving. Could she speak to the animals? That would certainly explain the proliferation of housing and the animal-friendly construction of her home.

The birds shot out in a torrent, and Fluttershy's mane waved from the force of the many wings pounding the air. They spread out like a firework explosion, flying every which way.

Some were headed right for me. Crud, I thought, but the wave of birds soon saturated the forest, and when they saw me, they alighted on my mane in turn. Piercing bird whistles sounded from right behind my ears. I could have run, but I knew I was already exposed. I could have struck the little beasts to shut them up, but as I've never given violence to the bullies and ponies who knew better, I wasn't about to attack the little friends of one who had shown me kindness.

Her eyes had zoned in immediately on the avian alarm, so I walked forward a bit sheepishly. Her face lit up in a smile once more, so you'll understand if I said I was feeling good about indulging another meeting.

Crossing that little bridge over the brook for about the hundredth time, it seemed, I approached the pegasus mare.

"I hoped you were still around," she said. "Thank you for the berries! We don't get them often in Ponyville... nopony wants to gather them from the Everfree forest... but my friend, Pinkie Pie, she was so happy to come over and help bake them into delicious pies. I just know you'd like to share a slice with me." She turned, standing in the doorway and beckoning me inside.

How could I refuse? I went inside. I had brought my pack with me; I nestled it against the couch. I moved to the same spot at the table I had used before and waited. Fluttershy brought out two small plates from a cupboard, placing them on the table, then picked up one of the pies with her hooves. She retrieved a pie server and sliced two decently-sized wedges, scooping them onto the plate. My mouth watered; I couldn't help it. She nudged one plate towards me and brought the other to her seat.

"Bon appetit," she offered, carefully pronouncing the foreign words. We dug in, nibbling the soft, still-warm and flaky crust, licking up the flowing juices and plump berries of the filling. By the sun's rays, it was a good pie.

"Oh my," she said to match my thoughts. "That was something else."

I was uncertain what would happen next. She came over to my seat, sliding the plate away from me, and with a little shy look and a nudge, pointed me towards the cushioned couch. I allowed myself to be moved, taking up a reclining position at one end while she sat at the other, tucking in her legs. I stayed silent - I couldn't do anything else - and she remained so as well.

At last, she broke the quiet. "I know you can't... speak, or even acknowledge what somepony says, so... you can't tell me your name. Maybe you wouldn't mind if I... came up with one for you? You could think of it as a... nickname, if you wanted."

She pulled her front right hoof out from its tucked-in position, and slowly reached out towards my brown flank and the silvery cutie mark of a wrench that showed on it. "Maybe your talent is... well, a wrench is used on nuts and bolts... but those wouldn't make a good name. Is it working with machines? Like trains or windmills? Hmmmm," she said.

There was no good way to pantomime my actual name, but... I had a thought. I hopped down, and she withdrew her hoof, waiting to see what I was doing. I flipped open the pack's cover and gripped one of the few books I had saved.

Tinkering with Technology read the cover as I placed the book facing towards her. She read the title, and looked at the depiction below of a pony, toolbox at his hooves, standing next to a device built of large, interlocked gears.

"Tinkering," she said thoughtfully. "Then what about calling you... 'Tinker'?" she asked. I smiled, steeling myself so as not to nod in exhilaration. She interpreted it as acceptance, and her mouth curved in a return grin. "Tinker, then." I sat down on the cushions.

With that decided, quiet resumed, but she spoke up hesitantly again. "I felt so... sad when I first saw you, I couldn't help but recognize... maybe some of what you were feeling. It reminded me... of times I've felt that way."

"You've been bullied a lot, haven't you? Is that why you travel so much? Maybe ponies don't understand... your quietness... they don't want you around. I was bullied a lot... myself."

And she began to speak about her foalhood. How she had grown taller before the other colts and fillies, becoming gangly and shy about her body. The others were relentless in teasing and tormenting her, calling her names like 'Fluttergiant' to make fun of her size, or 'Stuttershy' when she tried to stammer out responses. She was afraid to look weak to her parents by complaining - apparently Cloudsdale, a pegasus-only home, had a reputation as a real anti-coddling place - so she often ran away and cried in solitude.

"Flying camp made things even worse," she said. She'd picked up a new nickname from the bullies there - 'Klutzershy' - when her unsteady wings often sent her plummeting into the safety clouds below the launch point. Despite the rather grim encouragement of the camp coaches, her wings would seize up and refuse to work as the onlooking colts and fillies laughed.

"I wanted to give up," she said, but then her face brightened. "But there was one pony who stood up for me... her name's Rainbow Dash... she challenged the others to a race. Her heart was in the right place... but they knocked me over in the mad flight. Everypony must have been caught up watching, I don't think they even saw me fall, but I missed the clouds and streaked towards the ground... my wings slowed me a bit, but what really saved me," and here her face glimmered with true joy as her eyes closed, "was a huge flock of butterflies that stopped my fall. I'd never been to the ground before... there were so many amazing sights. Birds and squirrels and cute little bunnies... I took it all in, it was so beautiful. And then... there was a huge explosion in the sky, a rainbow appeared, trailing, but also coming out in a boom that shook the trees all around me."

"The animals were so scared... and so I tried to comfort them... and they responded! I found out we could understand each other, not perfectly, but pretty well. I got my cutie mark that day when I realized how much helping them made my heart soar," she pointed at her flank with three butterflies on it.

"The camp coaches found me not long after... but from then on, I sneaked down here whenever I could - it was the only way I could fly - and played with my animal friends. I became friends with Rainbow Dash too, after the way she defended me. I loved to watch her fly, she really is fantastic at it. When I got old enough, I moved here to work with the animals and help Ponyville. That's when I made other friends..."

She talked about the others: Pinkie Pie, the enthusiastic singing baker pony who had been here at the cottage earlier; Applejack, one of the owners of the many apple orchards outside town; Rarity, a fashion designer who loved to spend time at the spa with her; and lastly Twilight Sparkle, the most recent addition to the group, a pony after my own heart, often curled up with a good book.

She told the story of when they all gathered for the Summer Sun Celebration, when the Princess had gone missing and Nightmare Moon arrived to threaten them. The six of them set out to solve the problem, learning that they had special destinies that tied into the Elements of Harmony. They used the powers of honesty, kindness, laughter, generosity, loyalty and magic to turn Nightmare Moon back into Princess Luna and save the day, bonding the group into a lasting friendship.

Something about that story resounded with me. Elements.

Honesty.

There's a pony... who represents honesty?

My curse... could she...

I started up from the couch, interrupting the surprised mare. I had to find a way to meet her friend. If there was a chance... I ran through the room, searching, while she let out a little gasp.

The cupboards. I swung them open, looking within. There. Piled in a bowl were half a dozen crisp red apples. I seized one, rushing towards the table, where I plopped the fruit on it. I looked at Fluttershy.

"An apple?" Her brows furrowed in confusion. "We just ate... " She paused, considering. "But you know that. You acted suddenly. I was talking about my friends... you want to meet Applejack?

I rushed towards her and took her into a big pony hug.

Comments

[xara]

2008427
Thanks! It's based in part on Cassandra's curse, though poor Tinker doesn't have the prophecy that came with hers