No Correlation Whatsoever
The summer had reached the point where blankets became unnecessary. Oh, Apple Bloom still kept one on her bed, mostly because Applejack insisted that the thing be made each morning and there had to be something present to straighten up -- but for the most part, she slept on top of it. Snuggling under sheets was a fine thing, but it was something best reserved for fall through spring, when it would be necessary, not to mention comfortable, private, and an ideal haven for planning out the weekend's Crusading activities. If the three fillies still needed to pick things to try by that point, which surely they wouldn't and the other option was something Apple Bloom simply couldn't think about for more than a few seconds at a time, if even that. Because they were right. They knew they were right and one day, their marks would prove they'd been right the whole time.
But summer was the time for opening the windows and letting any slightly cooler night breeze in, for letting the air caress the aches which so easily came from Crusading (and the bruises, cuts, sprains, bare patches where portions of her mane used to be), and simply resting, as exposed to the night as her older siblings would let her be because both had stupidly insisted that if there was any cutie mark waiting for the talent of full-time living within wild zones, Apple Bloom would get her chance at it about ten minutes after leaving the double family funeral.
Apple Bloom hadn't bothered with the thin cotton sheet before going to bed the previous night: it had simply been too warm even with every window open and the clockwork fan wound to the point where the springs creaked. She'd simply curled up on top of the mattress, rested her chin on her front hooves, and slipped off into the nightscape for her typical dreaming of marks yet to come. Except that -- the dreams had been odd ones, where the land shifted beneath her hooves and Sun blazed down on her at odd times, the orb seeming to dip lower in the sky just to discomfort her all the more, clouds floating to ground level and bathing her in warm moisture. Warm moisture that came with extremely bad breath.
And then the cloud's teeth gently closed around her left ear.
"HEY!"
Normally, Apple Bloom would have started upon being woken with such a sensation, let all four legs jerk out and spent a split-second hovering between mattress and fan. But she couldn't. Because there was a dog on top of her.
"Winona! Get offa me! Get offa mah ear!"
The dog's teeth weren't hurting Apple Bloom: the grip was just strong enough to let her know the teeth were there. On her ear. With the rest of the dog (mostly) draped across her back. And the border collie regarded the filly with misty eyes and made a sound halfway between whimper and coo -- but did not move.
"Down, Winona! Down! Come on, get offa me... down!"
Winona whimpered once, then released Apple Bloom's ear and slunk down to the mattress before jumping to the floor.
"What's wrong with you?" Apple Bloom asked, and naturally received no response. "Y'wanna go t' Fluttershy? Or worse, Sweetbark? 'cause Ah will drag you if Ah have t'... bitin' mah ear..."
Normally, the threat of being taken to either the animal caretaker or Ponyville's licensed, officially graduated, and perpetual pass-along vet would have sent Winona under the bed for a good long sulk. Instead, she simply sat on the floor and continued to regard Apple Bloom with confused dark eyes, completely uncomprehending of what the filly could possibly be complaining about.
"An' on top of me..." Apple Bloom grumbled as she automatically checked her flank, just in case any cutie mark had appeared during the night. (Even if that particular mark didn't actively demonstrate it, Rainbow Dash's existence seemed to prove it was at least possible for a pony to manifest something associated with sleeping.)
No mark, as always, and she no longer bothered with any morning sigh. But the movement let her catch sight of the sheet -- the one which had been steadily pulled out from under her during the night, wadded up into a collie-sized circular nest at the far end of the bed.
Apple Bloom frowned. "Maybe y'do need t' go an' see Fluttershy," she softly worried. "Ah know Ah didn't do that, and y'got no reason t', Winona... none at'tall..."
She got out of bed, headed for the bathroom: morning toiletries would have to come before the trot to the cottage at the edge of the wild zone's fringe. And Winona followed her, rubbing first against her left legs, then the right ones, circling and watching Apple Bloom with those misty eyes. Every so often, the dog would take a play nip at the filly's ankles. And that was normal, something Apple Bloom was entirely used to: border collies had to herd something and when Winona was bored or hadn't gotten enough exercise during a given day, she would often start corralling the pony members of the household. A simple order stopped it every time -- except this one.
And Apple Bloom was so distracted from trying to keep Winona off her heels, she paid absolutely no attention to anything in front of her. Which included the fact that the little patch of carpet in the bathroom's center had also been wadded up into a makeshift nest.
One leg tangled. Then two, followed by a third.
Majority painfully ruled.
Applejack chuckled. "Yer turn," she said, and went back to making breakfast. Most of the family was gathered in the kitchen, with two exceptions: Granny Smith was sleeping in and Winona had been forcibly pushed out of the room by a determined Apple Bloom, who was trying to ignore the constant confused scratching at the closed door.
"Mah turn?" Apple Bloom protested, confused by the simplicity of the response. "What do y'mean, mah turn? Mah turn for what?"
"Y'don't remember? Not surprised, little sis... some days, y'don't seem t' pay much attention t' anythin' unless it's happenin' to you, an' when it does happen t' you, y'can't be bothered t' remember it for more than a minute... It ain't nothin' serious: no need t' go t' Fluttershy and Ah ain't never gonna use Sweetbark, so don't even start. Bad enough what that pony does without us givin' over a single bit an' makin' it worse."
A deeper chuckle from Big Mac, who'd been stirring a dumpling mix and had just let the ladle slip out of his teeth. "Perfectly natural, Apple Bloom. Winona's just in heat, that's all."
"Heat?" Apple Bloom frowned. "What's that mean?"
"You really don't remember?" Big Mac asked.
Applejack snorted. "Wasn't her the last time, so..."
"Easy, AJ," the stallion gently said, and the older sister grumbled before returning to chopping the lettuce. "It just means her body's at that point where it's telling her she wants puppies, Apple Bloom. And she's getting everything ready. Practicing, really. So anything she can crumple up, she will, because the puppies would need a nest and she's making sure she can do one the right way. And for what happened to you -- that's just more practice. She's treating you like a puppy. So she's gonna stick close when she can. She'll sleep on top of you and try to move you by your ear, herd you everywhere. And when she isn't doing that, you're gonna find her in a lot of dark, quiet spots, looking for a safe place to give birth. It'll wear off in a couple of weeks."
"An' last time out," Applejack half-muttered, "it was me she did it t' for the whole run, every mornin', everywhere..."
"Oh..." Apple Bloom replied, eyes widening. "So -- is she gonna have puppies?"
"I dunno," Big Mac honestly answered. "This is a couple of weeks earlier than it was around this time last year. AJ an' I were thinking about it, but we didn't have time to find a male border collie for her -- not one we trust. The one Thistle Burr uses is a nasty critter: don't want the puppies turnin' up with that in their blood. We'll take some time and look faster, but I don't know if we're gonna get the right match for her before the heat wears off -- an' she won't be interested after that, Apple Bloom. Window opened before we were expectin' it... so now we've gotta scramble."
Applejack sighed. "An' the other problem is that there ain't much call for border collies 'round here. Not that many farms around with tenants, and the dogs gotta herd somethin'. Not a good pet for the town types: no work t' do an' too little room for 'em to run. Plus they're dogs... meat-eaters. Not as bad as talkin' somepony into a kitten, but... well, if there ain't the job t' do, there ain't a pony t' take 'em in. Even Fluttershy can't shift 'em. Don't want Winona t' have the puppies unless we know we've got homes for every one who shows up."
Apple Bloom had stopped listening after 'I dunno'. "Okay," she said. "Can Ah go play after mah chores?"
Applejack's eyes narrowed. "Playin' -- or Crusadin'?"
"Playin'," Apple Bloom lied.
"Apple Bloom, if Ah hear one explosion or scream or anythin' --"
"-- Ah'm just gonna --"
Their older brother took a very small, extremely audible breath. Both sisters stopped.
He chuckled. "Make sure you check the south crops before y'go. Gonna be back for lunch?"
"Ah dunno."
"Won't plan for it, then." His teeth began reaching for the ladle -- then paused. "She slept on you?"
"Yeah. Well, Ah dunno if she was there all night, but she was sure there when Ah woke up."
He nodded. "Take a bath before you go out."
Apple Bloom nearly reared back onto her hind legs. "A bath? But Ah took one last night before bed! Ah ain't done nothin' today! Ain't got no muck or tree sap or --"
"-- take a bath, Apple Bloom," her big brother gently ordered, and returned his attention to the dumplings.
The filly grumbled under her breath, then went back to her morning routine: breakfast, chores, and checking on the tenants, with the added pressure of having to keep Winona off her heels the whole time. And then she left Winona behind and happily trotted off to find her friends without having bothered to take a completely unnecessary bath first, because she hadn't done anything at all to warrant needing one and her big brother was just being stupid for no apparent reason and so could be comfortably ignored, especially since he'd been among the north crops when she'd left and would never have any idea that she'd skipped the dumb thing. After all, it wasn't as if not taking an extra stupid (and extra-stupid) bath could ever have any consequences.
Just like none of the Cutie Mark Crusaders' activities truly led to any real consequences at all.
None whatsoever.
The first dog didn't particularly bother her, at least not on sight.
There really weren't many dogs in Ponyville. A few working ones on the farms, perhaps two dozen pets scattered around the town, added to whatever number Fluttershy was currently trying to find homes for. Carnivores as pets... well, some ponies would, but most shuddered and looked into getting something in a hopping model. (Unless they'd previously been to Fluttershy's cottage, in which case, the world of tortoises suddenly began to open up.) And of course dogs were expensive: food with meat in it... Winona effectively paid her own way, but the ongoing price of caretaking was just too high for some ponies to handle.
But there were a few. And a number of those had owners Applejack muttered about, those who let their canines do something the pony companions called 'free-walking' and her big sister described as 'hoof-fouling' because those dogs were left to wander around the settled zone without pony company, happily sniffing and wagging their tails and engaging in bodily functions anywhere they liked with nopony around to clean up after them, which AJ felt was the whole point of 'free-walking' in the first place: not having to take responsibility. Publicly cleaning up after dogs wasn't exactly fun for earth ponies and pegasi: the tools required to do so... well, the end that went in the mouth never touched the stuff, but knowing it was out there on the other end made it too easy to gag, which inevitably meant losing the load: cue vicious cycle. Not cleaning up was so much easier... for the owner. The ponies who came down exactly the wrong path two minutes after the wrong time tended to disagree.
This dog was a midsize brown beagle, one Apple Bloom had seen before. "Heya, Bryce," she smiled. "Just out for a walk, huh?" She automatically checked the road for bath-inducing spots and found none.
Bryce barked and wagged his tail. His head arced forward, and the nose wriggled in a way that made Apple Bloom want to laugh.
"Okay, then! Y'have a good day, all right?" she giggled, and trotted by.
About a minute later, a cold nose poked into her left hind leg.
Apple Bloom jumped, spun in midair, landed facing Bryce. The beagle wagged his tail again.
"Don't do that!" Apple Bloom protested. "Ah didn't hear y'comin' at'tall! Ah don't mind the company, but you've gotta let me know yer there! Come on, Bryce... walk by mah side if yer gonna come with, okay?" More tail wagging. "Good dog... Come on, let's go find Sweetie Belle -- why y'sniffin' mah flank? What's so fascinatin' about mah flank that y'gotta sniff it like that? What are y'even smellin' there? -- y'can't smell cutie marks comin', can you? Naw, that can't be it -- can it? Maybe... HEY! That's mah leg! Whatcha doin'? Get off!"
Apple Bloom kicked out to the left: the dog flew off, rolled once, and sprang back to its paws, tail still wagging happily.
"Go away, Bryce! Just go away! I don't wantcha followin' me no more!"
Two barks and a long-range sniff.
"Right! So -- leave! Now!"
"Both of you, jus' go away, y'hear me? Come on! Leave me alone! Ah ain't got no food for you! Ah ain't your pony friend! Head home!"
"Now listen t' me, all four of you! Ah don't wanna see any of you ever again! If Ah find a hose, y'all are in so much trouble... Ah've got a pegasus friend, y'know! Don't need no hose! She can get up t' a cloud and make it rain right on you forever! She's gonna -- an' you're all jus' waggin' away... that's right, Kyle, y'live near her, 'course y'know, probably told all the others, stupid gossipy dog..."
They hadn't tried to reach the clubhouse: Apple Bloom had plotted multiple courses and the single best one -- the trail which didn't go near the homes of additional dog owners, although it required passing through multiple No Trespassing zones and the homes of several ponies who had sworn to call the police if they ever saw the Crusaders again, not that any of them truly worried about that part or understood it in any way -- went too close to Fluttershy's cottage for comfort. Instead, they had huddled in the library, which had Scootaloo faking yawns on instinct and made a suspicious-seeming Twilight glance in their direction at the muted sound of each fresh whisper. Every so often, the unicorn would leave her desk and trot around them, carefully looking to see if they had any boring books (which, according to Scootaloo, was pretty much all of them) in their possession. She also seemed to be making a sincere attempt to hear exactly what they were saying, something which was only interrupted by the presence of other patrons, and so they timed their important words around her absence: adults always got things wrong.
Apple Bloom had no idea what the librarian was so worried about. After all, the dogs were still outside. Oh, sure, they tried to push their way in every time a pony entered or exited, and they just sat near the door the rest of the time looking eager and happy like the whole tree was the best birthday present in the world and one word would set them on the ribbon to pull away the wrapping, but at least they were outside. Mostly. Except for when they did slip past a pony and Twilight's field had to grab them before they could make a beeline for Apple Bloom. Not that the unicorn had noticed just where all the dogs were trying to reach: the interceptions had been too fast. But Twilight still seemed way too worked up for three fillies innocently sitting near a corner of the library, close to a window so Sweetie Belle could occasionally peek out and verify the dogs were still there. It was like she was paranoid. Waiting for something bad to happen.
Sometimes the librarian was just weird.
"So what are we gonna do?" Apple Bloom asked her friends while Twilight directed a pegasus stallion to a small shelf containing tomes full of classic cloud molding techniques.
"Ask them to go home?" Sweetie Belle proposed.
"Ah tried that. Didn't work."
"Politely?"
"Ah don't think that makes much difference, Sweetie."
"We should use them for something!" Scootaloo proposed. "As long as they're all here anyway, right? Maybe they can help us get our marks!"
"Oh, yeah?" Apple Bloom curiously challenged. "Like how?"
"Well... I could try to jump them on my scooter!"
"There's a mark for that?"
"We don't know there isn't! But we've probably got to make it a little more -- spectacular. So it's mark-worthy. Like, instead of just jumping them all by themselves, we could put a flaming hoop in the middle of the pack! And then they could line up next to a cliff and you'd have to get an extra twenty body lengths on the jump to reach the other side... yeah, that's worth a mark, right! Come on, guys! I'll even let you two go first!"
The unicorn and earth pony thought about that for a few seconds.
"How about the Gorge?" Apple Bloom proposed.
"Even better!"
"I don't know..." Sweetie carefully said. "I don't think this is something that brings a mark..."
"How do you know?" Scootaloo insisted. "We haven't tried it yet! What if that's our mark and we never find out because you stopped us!"
"No, that's not what I meant, Scootaloo," Sweetie cautiously replied. "I think -- maybe this is bringing a mark. Right now! I think maybe Apple Bloom's about to do it!"
Pegasus and earth pony blinked.
With an excitement Apple Bloom would never be able to block, "Y'wanna gallop that by me a little slower? Sweetie, if y'think Ah'm about to do it..."
"Well... remember what some of the Bearers told us about how they got their marks?"
Scootaloo groaned and buried her face in her front hooves. "Oh, not this again..."
"Think about Fluttershy!" Sweetie bulled ahead. "The butterflies came to get her before her mark appeared, right!"
"I don't know," Scootaloo grumbled. "I stopped listening when she started saying stupid boring stuff that didn't mean anything, forget about the dumb singing..."
"Pinkie!" Sweetie foraged forward. "She threw her first party before the mark! Twilight was doing magic before hers showed up! Rainbow Dash was in the middle of a race already! Don't you get it?"
"Get what?" a frustrated Scootaloo shot back. "That you wind up with a mark because you do perfectly ordinary things you're already good at and love doing, instead of trying cool stuff which nopony's ever done before?"
A long pause.
"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard!" Scootaloo shouted.
An angry Twilight spun on one hoof, the field-held tome moving with her and just barely missing smacking the startled patron in the snout. "Shhhh!"
They shushed. The sudden silence allowed them to hear an inquisitory sixth type of bark from outside.
"I know it's stupid, Scootaloo!" Sweetie continued at much lower volume. "But that's not what I'm talking about! For all those ponies, the stuff associated with their marks was already happening before the mark appeared! And Apple Bloom doesn't have her mark yet --" they all glanced at the yellow flank "-- but now all these dogs are coming to her from all over town! Maybe they know her mark is coming and they're showing up because it has to do with them! Maybe Apple Bloom's about to get a mark in dog training and they want to be here for it so they can help her show off!"
All three blinked several times. Scootaloo's were a little slower. "What... I don't even... you really believe that?"
"Yeah!" Sweetie insisted. "Why?"
A slow grin spread over the orange face. "Because it's brilliant! Let's go outside and try it out!"
Apple Bloom was a little more dubious. "I dunno... if Ah was gonna get a mark for trainin' dogs, wouldn't they be kinda -- listenin' t' me?"
"They're just waiting for the right moment!" Scootaloo gushed. "Maybe it's not for making one dog listen! Maybe you need a whole pack! And that's why they're still coming! Maybe you'll get a mark in -- tying dogs to the front of a scooter and having them pull you along! Or maybe even on a cart! And then you could go really fast and we could still put that flaming hoop at the edge of the Gorge, or how about this, we make it float in the middle somehow..."
"Training a pack?" Apple Bloom asked, hope beginning to surge. "You think so?"
"It could happen!" Scootaloo grinned.
"But... we're not there yet..." Sweetie thoughtfully added.
"Well, Ah know that..." flank check "...'cause Ah don't see no mark..."
"Because if it's a talent for training packs..." Sweetie got up, trotted to the window, peeked outside, came back. "Is seven dogs enough to make a full pack?"
"Dunno."
"Where would we find out?" Sweetie asked.
All three sat still on the library floor for half a minute and thought about it.
"No idea," Scootaloo said. "And it doesn't matter, because we know the answer! If Apple Bloom's mark is going to be for pack training and it hasn't appeared yet, it's because seven isn't enough for a pack!"
"So we need more dogs!" Apple Bloom happily realized.
"Yeah!" Sweetie gushed. "Let's go get some!"
The three fillies left the library. Twilight immediately asked the patron for a moment, trotted over to the abandoned area, and inspected it for scorching.
Getting more dogs was easy.
Admittedly, it could have been easier. Apple Bloom's theoretical approaching mark didn't seem to work on every canine. The youngest puppies merely yawned when she trotted by, although most of them woke up in a hurry at the cacophony following in the Crusaders' wake. Similarly, the oldest hounds just glanced up at the confusion and then went back to snoozing in their yards. And the adult females did nothing more than occasionally narrow their eyes and take a few breaths through their teeth before the fillies took the hint and scurried off.
But the males -- all of them they could find who could get out of their yards on their own or be assisted because getting a mark was a Cause any pony would surely understand this time and therefore borrowing a canine or two could hardly be classified as theft when unknowingly allowing the Crusaders to use their pets was really a public service... Well, any male dog spanning an age range from the teenage moons through just short of senior status was only too happy to follow Apple Bloom wherever she went. It seemed to indicate a rather narrow range of talent, certainly nothing near what a certain yellow pegasus was capable of -- but Apple Bloom promptly decided a small focus meant more ability within that range and prepared to do something which didn't even come close to settling.
They kept it to the pets within Ponyville and around the farms, though. While there were more pack additions to be picked up at the cottage, going there risked having Fluttershy wonder what they were doing. And for some reason, whenever they tried to explain themselves to the Bearers on any activity whatsoever, especially those associated with the Cause... well, pretty much all of the adults kept behaving in strange ways around the fillies. And Fluttershy... she could get all twitchy and trembling, even more so than usual, acting like something bad was about to happen and reaching that conclusion on absolutely no evidence which the Crusaders cared to remember whatsoever. So it was best not to risk getting the animal caretaker worked up, just in case a bad no-basis-in-fact false realization accidentally came to be.
(All three Crusaders recognized that adults lost the important aspects of their decision-making and reality-recognition processes somewhere along the way. It was something they tried not to think about too much beyond desperately hoping it wouldn't happen to them.)
Eventually, they led the nascent pack to a secondary use area, one well away from the main clubhouse. It was a clearing about forty body lengths across, nestled within the woods behind Golden Harvest's farm. It was within the settled zone, so offered that small margin of safety (which Scootaloo often grumbled about, as she felt that wild zones had to offer truly wild marks). It was completely unclaimed, so the only ponies who ever complained about their using it were the police, fire department and occasionally, an emergency environmental impact assessment team dispatched from Canterlot, with whom they were now on a personal-name basis. Sweetie Belle had occasionally proposed changing sites as the response teams now knew exactly where to go and therefore interrupted too many attempts just before the last scheduled explosion would trigger a mark, but they hadn't been able to find any other locations with the required amount of open space.
The lingering chemical stink was starting to get annoying, though. And none of them had any idea why all the bark on the surrounding trees was turning blue.
Still, it was enough room to host the trio plus twelve dogs of assorted sizes and breeds, all of which had the same rapt look of anticipation on their faces. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo were patrolling the edge of what Apple Bloom had staked out for Command Territory, keeping the newly-founded pack from getting too close. The dogs were totally fascinated by her flanks. And her legs, neck, head, ears, and pretty much every other part of her, but as far as Apple Bloom was concerned, it was now all about the flanks.
She took a deep breath. It was the moment of truth.
Again.
She'd lost track of the sheer number of truth moments they'd been through together, mostly because every last one had turned out to be a Moment Of Lie.
But this was the one, because it was going to be the last.
Apple Bloom closed her eyes. Reached deep inside herself, questing for magic. Ignored that which was always there, dismissing the Cornucopia Effect (and all that came with it) because there was certainly no mark waiting within a pony's racial ability and anything which had happened to Twilight obviously didn't count. Delved down, down to the core of herself, clenched imaginary teeth around intangible tail and wrenched it to the surface at the moment her eyes snapped open and she said the word which would trigger the manifest, make her the first of the friends to finally achieve the most important thing in their lives and give the other two a real road to follow instead of all the stupid paths which the adults only suggested because they'd somehow lost track of that important stuff too.
"SIT!"
Nothing happened.
Well, of the dozen dogs, three gave her confused looks, seven ignored her, one scratched itself, and the last tried to make a break for it past Scootaloo's left and got blocked by a diving pegasus just in time. But nothing important happened. None of them obeyed her. They didn't listen. And there was -- flank check -- no mark.
Apple Bloom sighed. "Horse apples."
"Apple Bloom!" exclaimed a shocked Sweetie.
"Ah can say it! Ah'm old enough! Horse apples, horse apples, horse apples -- hey! One of them's squattin'! Let me check mah flank! ...aw..."
"We're just trying the wrong thing!" Scootaloo decided. "A mark's not going to come from something so basic as just telling a bunch of dogs to sit down, right? We've got to try something more -- interesting..."
"Like what?" Apple Bloom naturally inquired.
"I still know where there's a Gorge we can try to jump!"
Earth pony and unicorn thought about that for a while. The dogs, seeming restless, as if they too were wondering just when a personal goal was going to be reached, tried to break some of it up with urgent-sounding barks.
"Ah dunno," Apple Bloom decided.
Scootaloo's voice went slightly snide. "You don't know about getting your mark?"
"Naw! Ah just dunno about trying the Gorge first thing! Ah think we should -- hook up the dogs first an' try a little run down the paths. See how they steer an' all."
"Well, if you want to be boring..."
"An' then once we know jus' how fast they go, we can pick the part of the Gorge we wanna hurdle!"
Scootaloo grinned. "Now you're talking. So. Where do we get a cart at this hour?"
Unfortunately, the cart at the Acres was locked up behind all hope of Crusader borrowing, with chains woven through the wheels in such a way that the only way to remove them without using the right key was by breaking every last spoke. It was a completely silly measure which Applejack certainly had no reason to implement after the fourth time they'd borrowed a cart from the Acres, especially since the older sister was only on her third cart of the Crusade overall and if the replacement number had matched the borrowing -- well, that still wouldn't have been an excuse and certainly the cost of any and all repairs when things were less than totally destroyed, compared to the infinite gain of a mark, had to come in a distant second place. Or even further back. There were times Apple Bloom considered that her big sister had no true sense of priorities whatsoever, and those times were known as 'every moment when Ah'm awake and 'bout half the time Ah'm asleep'.
The carts owned by the surrounding farmers were pretty much exactly the same, only with more chains, an assortment of warning spells visibly glowing around the perimeter of the sheds, and a number of signs which mentioned them by name and suggested things to be done upon intercept, none of which they understood and all of which they would have ignored if it wasn't for those stupid chains and spells and the one patrolpony who hadn't been there three weeks ago. (They'd had to leave that last area quickly. The dogs had been starting to make more noise, and Apple Bloom had nearly chorused it when the poodle had gone for her left hind leg again.)
On second look, the scooter just didn't have the surface area to hook the dogs up to it. Oh, they still could get rope: untying a large number of summer hay bundles provided and as for putting it back -- well, they always tried to put things back later, unless they broke or burned or exploded and then it was the responsibility of families and adults and allowances which were supposedly docked into the shadowlands and beyond. But after they'd gotten enough rope, they could see that the scooter handle simply didn't have enough room for all those loops. They would be overlapping to the point where there was more rope than handle, which would make it harder to steer and since only Scootaloo could ride the thing normally...
So no cart, and no scooter. Problem.
However, under the other hoof, the adults only tended to lock up things they were (for no comprehensible reason) afraid the Crusaders would borrow. And it was summer. There were certain things nopony would ever lock up in the heart of summer, especially items they used but once a year to begin with.
And that brought them, taking the back roads all the way because the dogs were having less and less interest in remaining quiet and every occupied house they passed behind had ponies peeking out back windows to see what all the racket was about, to the sled.
"Sweetie? Why does Rarity even own a sled? Ah never exactly see her doin' anything outdoorsy in the winter."
"She got it at a stable sale for cheap -- somepony was moving and couldn't take it. And whenever the Weather Bureau schedules snowfall for Hearth's Warming Eve, she likes to take it out around Ponyville and toss gifts off the back," Sweetie shrugged. "Little stuff. Hoofwarmers, mostly."
"So who pulls it?"
"Any stallions she can talk into doing it."
"An' she keeps it at Mr. Flankington's because...?"
"Something about not suing him after that one free sample had her sick for a week...? And it's not like the Boutique has the storage space anyway, so I guess this place makes sense..."
Scootaloo nodded to that. "Sure stinks, though."
"Yeah," Sweetie agreed. "Rarity says he works on recipes out here."
"The dogs don't seem to like it."
"Ah don't like it. D'you think the wood is gonna stink like that too?"
"It'll probably get better once we get it out of the workshop," Sweetie decided. "Just don't knock over anything that's bubbling. Or glowing. Or smoking. Or... whatever that one's doing. We don't want him to know we were here."
"So," Apple Bloom considered, "if he gets back home early 'cause nopony went to his place t' eat again an' finds the sled ain't here...?"
"He'll just decide Rarity took it for a while," Sweetie decided.
"In the summer."
"Yeah."
"While the Boutique's still open."
"Sure!"
"With no snow anywhere and nothin' but dirt on the roads."
"Uh-huh."
"Makes perfect sense t' me. Let's get 'em hooked up!"
They found four harnesses in the back of the sled, but that wasn't as helpful as they'd thought it would be. Very few dogs matched ponies for sheer size, and no representatives from any of those rare breeds resided in Ponyville. It meant none of the harnesses fit properly on even the largest dogs, and they wound up borrowing a number of heavy cloths from the shed in order to pad things out enough for a rough fit. Which left the dogs covered in both harnesses and heavy cloths in the summer, but they seemed to be okay with it. Scootaloo still made sure to borrow plenty of water and load it into the back of the sled. She also tried to borrow something which sort of looked like water, and the cascade effect from that action... well, afterwards, they were fairly sure they'd recreated enough of the glows and bubbles and smoke and whatever that one was doing to get away with it. Besides, the new stinks in the shed probably didn't mean anything real and the woozy feeling started to clear as soon as they got outside. Really, adults shouldn't keep things like that around out in the sort of open because fillies might need to borrow things in the name of the Cause and that meant anything which happened was in no way the Crusaders' fault, or so Scootaloo kept insisting over and over as she dizzily reeled in a circle for twenty minutes after leaving, nearly falling on the miniature pinscher twice. The other two repeatedly agreed with her until she could remember that they'd done so for more than five heartbeats at a time.
The ropes were rigged to sled and harnesses and anyplace else they could think to tie them on. Some of them immobilized the reins, but what did that matter? The dogs were supposed to respond to Apple Bloom's emerging talent, not the suggestion of some stupid pulls on lines. And maybe a few of the ropes seemed to weave through each other in ways which threatened to tangle and trip or just spontaneously tie up into a giant loudly barking knot with forty-eight legs, but Apple Bloom had directed the weaving from a distance and that meant the talent which was so rapidly approaching emergence would have taken care of everything to perfection, because wasn't that what a talent did? There was nothing to worry about whatsoever, as long as this was what her mark would be for. Which it clearly would, because they were so obviously on the right track this time, just like all the other times before.
(She'd had to give the directions from a distance. The dogs just loved her too much to hold still around her while her head tried to weave in and out around their torsos. They had demonstrated that several times, and some of them had continued trying to do so on her legs.)
And yes, there was no snow for the sled's runners to go over. Some of the back roads weren't as maintained as the main ones -- which included pretty much all the ones which the Crusaders snuck around on -- and there were rocks there which might potentially do something to a traveling vehicle. But dirt was almost exactly like snow, right? Dirt could be powdery. It was certainly heavy. Wet dirt was mud, and slightly wet snow was slush. When you got right down to it, the only true differences were color and temperature and all sorts of other unimportant stuff which would in no way prevent a sled from traveling down a poorly-maintained dirt back road with lots of rocks in it.
So in the end, all three considered that they'd set things up perfectly, the same way they always did. After all, they'd had so much practice at doing things perfectly, it was a wonder none of them had a mark for it.
They clambered into the sled.
"Ready?" Apple Bloom asked.
"Ready," Sweetie agreed.
"Very ready," Scootaloo grinned.
"Okay!" Apple Bloom smiled. "Let's do this! Dogs -- go!"
Nothing happened.
"Forward?"
The lack of accomplishment echoed.
"Move out?"
A wall of zilch blocked their passage.
"Um... anypony got an idea?"
The dogs broke up the silence with more confused barking. Several tried to turn around and get closer to Apple Bloom. Ropes did interesting things, some of which approached the fractal.
"I know!" Scootaloo erupted. "You two wait right there! I know where to get just the thing! Hang on!" She scrambled down, galloped to her scooter, and got her wings buzzing. "This won't be long..."
She vanished down the road. The other two Crusaders waited in the summer heat, listening to the increasingly confused sounds from the dogs and the seeming desperation which grew with every peal.
"Sweetie?"
"Yeah?"
"Ah really hope this is mah mark."
"Do you really want one for dog training?"
"Ah'll take one..."
There was more barking.
"Is that a green plume of smoke from Mister Flankington's house?"
"Naw. Ain't comin' from the right place. It's probably the shed."
"Do you think -- that has something to do with us?"
"Can't be. Anythin' we could have done with replacin' all those mixes would have happened when we did it!"
"You're right. I'm just being silly. It's all the barking. It's giving me a headache."
"Tell me 'bout it."
They waited for a while longer as Sun continued to do its work with a little too much enthusiasm.
"Any idea where Scootaloo went?"
"What?"
"Any idea where Scootaloo went?"
"Sorry! Ah can't hear y'over all this barkin'! It's like somethin' has 'em extra worked-up!"
"I know!"
"What?"
And then a small orange body landed in the sled. "Got it!"
The smell hit them first: just that was more than enough for Sweetie Belle to gag while Apple Bloom tried not to retch. And when they got their first look at the thing...
It was red, with streaks of white and a thick, marbled border. It had a round hard part in the center with the foulest-looking soft red bullseye they'd ever refused to imagine. It glistened under Sun. It was dripping blood. Red drops were splattering against the wood of the sled, sinking in and staining...
It was the foulest thing they'd ever seen in their lives.
"It's meat!" Scootaloo grinned. "I went to Sugarcube Corner and got past Pinkie and the Cakes going both ways! They never saw me! I remembered that Gummy's birthday is coming up and Pinkie always likes to get him something special to eat after the main party! I checked the freezer and found this! It mostly defrosted on the way back..."
"Isn't that -- really expensive?" Sweetie half-gagged, swallowing back her nausea.
"We're just borrowing it! Anyway, see how I tied the string around it? And now all Apple Bloom has to do is put one end of the long bouncy stick in her mouth and hold the meat out in front of the dogs! That'll get them going -- they'll chase the thing forever! And once they're moving, that's when her talent for giving them commands will kick in and her mark will manifest!"
All three ponies looked at the sickening, stinking thing.
"Let's do it!" Apple Bloom decided. "Scootaloo, pass me that stick!"
The stick was transferred. The proper red-spotted portion went in Apple Bloom's mouth.
"I dripped a little blood on your end," Scootaloo added, "but that's okay, right? Right? Apple Bloom? Sweetie Belle? Is there a talent for changing colors? Because you're both turning kind of green --"
"It's... worth it..." Apple Bloom retched out around the edges of the stick while vowing to spend three days giving her tongue its very own personal bath. "Totally... worth it..."
She swung the stick. The meat moved, ending in a position about half a body length in front of the lead dog.
They stopped barking. Twenty-four eyes focused on a single point.
The sled moved.
The Crusaders were collectively convinced that some activities had no potential marks associated with them, because they did those things practically every week to the point of becoming experts. And therefore, if anypony in the world would go through manifest from engaging in those actions, they would have accomplished the feat moons ago.
Picking themselves out of debris fields. Removing bits of wood from manes and feathers. Inspection for injury. Coming up with excuses as to why nothing which had happened possibly could have been their fault in any way. No marks available for any of those things. They had proven it. Repeatedly.
On the bright side, having to scrub the bloodstains out of the wood was no longer a problem.
"Ah wonder how much sleds cost," Apple Bloom mused. "Applejack said mah allowance is docked so far ahead Ah'm gonna have t' be born three times just to pay off last summer." Her older sister hadn't explained how that was supposed to work. Neither had her brother. Or anypony else.
"She got it really cheap," Sweetie Belle assured her. "She said she practically got it for a song."
"So maybe Rarity can just sing for the repairpony?"
"Maybe... and she knows that wood sculpture spell, Apple Bloom! Maybe that can sort of sculpt all the pieces back together!"
"Does it work on splinters?"
"I don't know... maybe if she sings at the same time?"
"Nopony sing," Scootaloo grumped. "And that means you, you stupid dogs! Stop barking already! You're all fine! Why is that one howling? I checked all of them and they're not hurt! What is wrong with them?"
"Ah dunno," Apple Bloom sighed. ""Ah'm startin' t' think this ain't gonna be mah mark after all, Scootaloo. Maybe we should just take the dogs home an' try somethin' else?"
"I guess," Scootaloo grouchily said. "If you really want to give up before anypony else tries it..."
"We're out of sleds," Sweetie Belle pointed out.
"We can substitute!"
"With what?"
"Doesn't that one cannon have wheels?"
"...yeah, but it's really heavy. We'd need more than twelve dogs."
"Fine," Scootaloo lied. "Anypony see the meat?"
"The dogs ate it," Apple Bloom told her.
"Oh. How much does that stuff cost, anyway?"
"A lot," Apple Bloom sighed. "Trust me on this."
They started trudging back towards Ponyville. The dogs followed. Closely.
"Weird green cloud over there," Scootaloo noted.
"Yeah."
They reached the first home and tried to drop the poodle off in relative silence, which the other eleven dogs made just about impossible. The poodle himself finished the process.
All three tried picking him up and dropping him over the gate. All three watched the poodle vault the barrier to become part of the pack again, rejoining the barking, wriggling, nearly-fighting scrum struggling to stay as close to Apple Bloom as possible.
They tried another home for that first return. And then another. Followed by a fourth option, and a fifth...
"Ah don't get it!" Apple Bloom protested. "Why won't they go home? They've gotta be gettin' hungry!"
"They had a snack already," Sweetie Belle reasonably pointed out.
Apple Bloom wasn't in the mood for logic. "Maybe Ah've got another disease! Somethin' that makes dogs want t' be near me! Maybe Ah'm gonna turn into a dog! What does mah tail look like? Check mah ears!" She was starting to spin in place. "Anypony think Ah sound like Ah'm barkin'? Somepony tell me Ah'm gonna be okay, anypony --!"
"-- easy!" Scootaloo yelled. "You're fine! They're just being stupid dogs! That's all this ever was -- stupid dogs being stupid and giving us stupid hope!" She glared at the pack. "Stupid, stupid dogs!"
The sheepdog and the small brown mixed breed wagged their tails and drooled in her general direction.
"But we've got t' get rid of 'em! Ah can't have 'em follow me home! Big Mac and Applejack ain't gonna overlook that one! They'll act like Ah did somethin' wrong!"
"Okay," Sweetie Belle said, her voice reassuring. "So what we need is something which would drive dogs away."
"Something dogs are scared of," Scootaloo nodded.
"The scariest thing imaginable," Apple Bloom concluded.
Scootaloo grinned. "I know just the --"
-- white and yellow hooves came up, jammed against the pegasus' mouth.
"Scootaloo?" Sweetie Belle asked. "You know I love you like you were my own sister, right? We're friends and nothing's ever going to change that?"
The shocked pegasus nodded.
"An' Ah feel the same way?" Apple Bloom added. "There's practically nothin' Ah wouldn't do for you, anywhere, any time at'tall?"
Another slow nod.
"Good," both said in a perfect chorus which reached into every word to follow. "And if you tell us to go get Angel Bunny, we're still never going to speak to you again."
They lowered their hooves.
Scootaloo sank to the ground and pouted. Dogs swarmed around her body, keeping Sweetie Belle very busy for a minute.
"Fine," the pegasus finally groaned. "So we'll just go with the second option..."
It had taken two of them to go get the second option -- and Apple Bloom couldn't be one of them, because the dogs would have drawn too much notice during a very visible passage through town and adults would have begun asking completely unreasonable questions, the same way they always did. So they'd retreated some distance into the woods, and Sweetie Belle had teamed up with Scootaloo to boost Apple Bloom onto a low, thick tree branch: one she could safely jump down from, but a height which the leaping, barking, frantic dogs couldn't reach. And then her friends had left.
They'd been gone for some time. Apple Bloom was measuring the passage by Sun, the increasing volume of the pack, and the number of times they'd marked territory on the tree.
"Shut up," she tried again.
They didn't.
"Maybe somepony put a spell on me," Apple Bloom considered aloud. "We were in the library... maybe it was Twilight! Maybe she's all mad and stuff and wanted to teach me a lesson with that dumb Want It-Need It for some stupid reason... whatever that might be... it's not like Ah ain't never done nothin'..." The quadruple negative wrapped itself around her in a protective barrier, keeping reality out. "Except that this started before Ah reached the library at'tall. But she's got power, so maybe she's got range too... didn't see no glow, though... shut up, y'dumb dogs, shut up..."
But she was starting to hear voices now. Loud ones, arguing tones strong enough to break through the near-howls.
"So you take the saddlebags for the last few hoofsteps! I had to carry it the whole way up until now, and I did practically every other part too!"
"I'm not going to carry that!"
"Why not?"
"They're saddlebags! They go too close to my wings! What if my wings got hurt?"
"What if my side gets hurt? No -- what if it gets hurt more? Do you know how many times --"
"-- and that just proves why I shouldn't do it!"
"Are you saying your wings are more important than my side?"
"Your side doesn't fly! So -- duh!"
"Oh, yeah? If we were gonna have a flying contest between my side and your wings, who would win? Or would we just tie for last?"
Silence. Except for the constant barking.
"I'm sorry."
"Me too. I'll wear them all the way back, okay?"
"Okay. And I'm really sorry..."
Gently, "Forget it."
They came into view, Scootaloo trotting somewhat ahead of Sweetie Belle. The unicorn was burdened by the extremely ornate saddlebags. One of them was visibly empty. The right side was bulging. Wriggling. Writhing. Sweetie winced as one of those bulges went into her ribs. "Let's just do this fast, okay?"
All of the dogs stopped barking. As one, they looked at Apple Bloom. They sniffed the air. They looked at Sweetie Belle. They sniffed in that direction.
Canine tails went between legs. Several dropped to the ground. A low, harsh, desperate whine emerged from two throats. But they did not leave the tree. Would not abandon Apple Bloom.
"What took so long?" the young farmer demanded. "Did y'have trouble sneakin' in?"
"You have no idea," Scootaloo groaned. "We saw Hazard and Fallout again. I don't know what they're doing in town today, but we had to keep out of sight. They were babbling something stupid about some dumb cloud. And there were ponies racing all over the place, the Flower Trio was screaming and it sounded so funny through those gas masks... you know, just more stupid adult stuff which doesn't matter. And then Rarity was trying to keep the Boutique open anyway, and we couldn't find her special traveling carrier saddlebags in the five seconds I gave us to look..."
"I took these instead," Sweetie said, the last word half-broken by a grunt of pain. "Rarity said they took her forever to get the stitching right on, so that meant they had to be extra-strong!"
"Makes sense," Apple Bloom decided.
The right saddlebag writhed faster. Something white emerged from one of the many rents in the fabric, went back in. A sound of pure anger tore through the air, and the dogs trembled in place all the faster. They didn't want to stay. They couldn't make themselves leave.
"So how we gonna do this?" Apple Bloom asked.
"I'm just going to open the saddlebag," Sweetie Belle winced. "And... I guess everything just takes care of itself after that. All we have to do is get her home afterwards. So... ready?"
Apple Bloom and Scootaloo nodded. Sweetie Belle craned her neck back, flipped open the lid with her teeth, jerked her head out of the way just in time.
Opal emerged.
That was the short form. The one which stuck in Apple Bloom's dreams for years to come was 'a spitting, hissing, fur-fluffed, ears-back, claws-out spiraling unstoppable mass of purest fury and destruction emerged to wreak vengeance on everypony who had confined her'. And then some.
The dogs made a very fast decision. Unfortunately, it was also a group one.
The cat was temporarily occupied. Very temporarily. It would surely finish with the two ponies within seconds and then it would turn its attention to them. And some things just weren't worth it.
The panicked pack rushed past Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle, who were both busy learning an important lesson in feline imprisonment, one they would actually remember for more than five seconds: that the ponies who take pains to confine a furiously protesting cat had better not be the ones who let her out again. And the dogs ran away.
Apple Bloom jumped down, joined the battle. It took the three of them to corral Opal and get her under control, which ultimately meant that they failed to dodge all the jumps, took a lot of swipes to their snouts, and generally suffered through all of it until the cat decided that a full measure of revenge had been exacted and disinterestedly wandered back off towards the town.
They checked each other for claw wounds. And also for marks, just in case there happened to be one in getting completely outclassed by an angry cat. Only the former came up with results.
Apple Bloom managed to smile anyway. "Well, that solved everythin'!" she declared. "No more dogs! All Ah've gotta do is get home and get these scratches cleaned up." She checked herself again, noted the inevitable presence of tree sap. "Maybe a bath, Ah guess... thanks, everypony! Ah woulda had t' put up with them for hours if y'hadn't had that idea, Scootaloo! An' Sweetie, Ah know it wasn't easy t' carry her in..."
Scootaloo had the grace to blush. "And I can't carry her back when she's already left... I'll get the next one, okay?"
"Okay," Sweetie Belle smiled, then rubbed at her oft-injured nose. "I'd better clean up too. And you too, Scootaloo. See you tomorrow?"
"Sure!" Scootaloo declared. "One of us will have something new to try by then! We always do -- say, do you hear something?"
The trio stopped, listened to far-off sounds. There was the fearful barking, because it had continued through all the time since the pack had fled, with the sound changing only through distance. But there now seemed to be a certain amount of -- screaming. Lots of yells. Shouts. And the repeat of one particular word reached them with perfect clarity.
"STAMPEDE!"
The triple-sound that followed that announcement was probably caused by a trio of bodies simultaneously hitting the ground.
"Um..." Apple Bloom glanced towards Ponyville, ignoring the huge green mass of vapor now looming over the town. "Y'don't think that has anythin' t' do with us... right?"
"Nah," Scootaloo declared.
"I can't see how," Sweetie Belle decided.
Which was when a pale-yellow pegasus mare with an oddly discolored cloud on her flanks appeared overhead.
"Apple Bloom," Fallout said pleasantly. "Scootaloo. Sweetie Belle. Would you three mind following me in, please? I'm pretty sure we need to have a little talk."
"But we didn't --"
"-- Ah dunno what --"
"-- we haven't --"
''-- now."
"Repeat after me," Big Mac said.
"Ah don't understand why y'want me t' --"
"Repeat after me, Apple Bloom. No argument. No backtalk. Say my words and only my words, so I know you understand them."
"All right..."
"When Winona is in heat --"
"When Winona is in heat --"
"-- and sleeps on top of me --"
"-- an' sleeps on top of me --"
"-- I will smell like her --"
"-- Ah will -- really?"
"And just about every male dog in town will follow me, hoping I'll eventually lead them back to her."
"An' just about every stupid barking boy 'round here will chase mah hooves all day 'cause they think Ah'm gonna get 'em a date with Winona."
"So when my big brother tells me to take a bath, I will take a bath."
"You ain't got no big brother."
"Apple Bloom."
"Fine... when y'tell me t' take a bath, Ah'll take a bath. Even when Ah just had one the night before."
"Thank you," Big Mac said.
Apple Bloom exhaled.
"Now. About the stampede. And Rarity's sled. And the cloud. And the damages to the town, gardens, shops, Roseluck's manestyle..."
The list went on for six minutes. There were no repeats.
Apple Bloom mostly stopped listening after 'about'. The tone was enough.
Two pebbles came through her open bedroom window and bounced off the mattress. Apple Bloom forced herself to trot towards the cool breeze, resisting the urge to stop and rub at her stinging nose every other hoofstep. Applejack had insisted on personally painting all the scratches with disinfectant. Four times.
She poked her head out under Moon, looked down. Orange and white hooves waved up.
"So," Scootaloo stage-whispered, "how long are you grounded for?"
"Forever."
"What's forever?"
"Two whole weeks."
"Wow. That's really forever."
"Ah know. Can't leave the Acres. Can't go t' town by mahself. Can't do anythin' but mah chores and whatever anypony in town wants me t' do for cleanup. And Big Mac's gonna watch me when Ah do that. Can't try any Crusadin' at'tall."
All three sighed. The punishments for things which were in no way crimes simply never fit.
"But..." Sweetie slowly began, eyes bright, "the clubhouse is part of the Acres... did anypony specifically say you couldn't go there?"
Apple Bloom blinked.
"Naw! Nopony said that at'tall!"
Scootaloo grinned. "Great! See you tomorrow? I've got a new idea!"
"What is it?" Apple Bloom asked. "Somethin' good!"
"Yeah! You know that theory Sweetie Belle had -- that marks just sort of float in the air, invisible, waiting for somepony to do something which makes them notice and head for that pony? And how some marks just don't show up any more because ponies stopped doing the things which made them appear?"
"Ah remember..."
"Well, I overheard Rainbow Dash when she was returning a dumb book to Twilight the other day! Something about mercenary companies and how there haven't been any in centuries! So those marks must have been floating around forever waiting for somepony to do the right thing and get their attention!"
Sweetie nodded, her mane vibrating with enthusiasm. "They've been waiting for a hundred forevers! They must really want a pony to do the mercenary stuff again so they can show up on a flank already! They're lonely, Apple Bloom! We have to give them a home!"
"Makes perfect sense!" Apple Bloom enthused. Then, "Uh... Scootaloo? Sweetie Belle? What is mercenary stuff?"
"I don't know." Scootaloo grumbled. "It's in some stupid book."
Sweetie smiled. "I'll look at the table of contents tomorrow, okay? That'll do it!"
"'cause tomorrow's the day!" Apple Bloom declared.
"Sure is!" Sweetie Belle agreed.
All three smiled in anticipation of rapture.
The sound of a midrange explosion tore through the night. Apple Bloom wondered if Applejack had heard it.
"Um..." Sweetie Belle glanced over towards what seemed like the right direction. "Do you think that came from Mr. Flankington's?"
"Maybe," Scootaloo cautiously offered.
"Do you think... it has anything to do with us?"
"Nah," Apple Bloom decided.
"Of course not!" Scootaloo insisted.
"You're right," Sweetie Belle agreed again. "I'm just being silly."
And Apple Bloom went back to bed while the other two raced away from the Acres. Because they were right. They knew they were right and one day, their marks would prove they'd been right the whole time. It was just the stupid adults who kept getting everything wrong.
All things considered, it was best to leave before that part happened again.