A war-torn veteran is given a second chance to heal after the horrors he has experienced.
On one strange afternoon, a pony wakes up in Fluttershy's bed. He doesn't say his name; he doesn't say where he's from.
He has been given a second chance at life. But what if he can't leave the pain of the previous one behind? What if his body wasn't the only thing to be injured?
Gnarled, withered fingers gripped the edges of his wheelchair in a weak grip, no longer could he even fully form a fist. His pure white hair was thin and wispy. His scarred face was creased and lined.
Listless eyes that had seen so much stared off into the other world below—the world where normal people lived. They could not comprehend what he had watched, what he had done. The horrors he had wrought still forced him awake in the middle of the night, and the monstrosity of the enemy kept him from returning to peaceful slumber.
Deep wracking coughs left his body periodically, and each wheezing breath was a struggle for consciousness. The thin tubes of plastic that went into his nose carried oxygen into his tired body.
Turning away from the bustle of the city, he rolled his wheelchair to the back of his room. There, in the drawer, he found what he was looking for.
His feeble hands stroked the small ovals of metal with reverence, for each pair was collected from a squadmate, a friend, a brother.
He could recall their names, their faces, with perfect memory.
The man slid his own pair of dog tags off his neck and gently placed it alongside the others.
He was not just any man, but a hero. And he was dying.
But it would be on his terms.
He slowly faced the corner of the room. His eyes locked on the solitary object found there: the flag of his country.
His right hand tugged at the life-giving nozzle attached to his face until it slid free, then rose higher. Straightening his aching back, he extended his fingers as best he could. He placed the tips of his still-bent fingers next to the corner of his eye.
Someone would find him tomorrow. They would find that he died as he lived. For his country.
No.
He had died a long time ago.
Fluttershy hummed merrily as she flew through the air. The birds were chirping, the sky was a crisp blue, and Celestia’s sun shone down from above.
She landed in the soft soil and ever so gently pulled a luscious lily from the ground. Adding it to her small bouquet, she once again jumped into the sky and flitted for home, her wings barely moving as she danced in between the trees.
Chattering excitedly, a squirrel paused and waved to her, an acorn grasped in its claws.
Smiling, Fluttershy returned the wave and continued on her way.
Rounding a last tree, her cottage came into view. She flew closer and gently touched down on her porch, her hooves barely making a sound as they connected with the wood. Still humming, she pushed the door inward.
Once the inside of her cottage came into view, she slowed and looked around. Her coat on the back of her neck prickled, but she couldn’t quite put her hoof on why it did. She stared for a minute, looking at every detail, but nothing seem out of the ordinary.
“Hello, Fluttershy,” said Twilight as she stepped into the room.
Fluttershy’s heart, which had sped up slightly, relaxed. She let out a quick breath. “Oh, it’s just you, Twilight.”
“We have a . . . problem.”
“What?” she asked.
Twilight motioned her further inside and then closed the door with her magic. “Stand still.” She slowly walked up to Fluttershy and parted her mane with her hooves.
“What are you, um, doing?”
“Just checking to see if you grew a horn.” She turned around and looked at the rest of the room. “Five minutes ago, I received a high-importance letter from Princess Celestia. She said that somewhere around the outskirts of Ponyville, a powerful magic has surfaced. I was wondering if you had seen anything.”
“Is . . . is it dangerous?” squeaked Fluttershy.
“The princess doesn’t know. She has no reason to believe it is because all she sensed was raw power, but we can never be too careful. I’m on my way to get our other friends, but I decided to stop here first—in case you had seen something out of the ordinary.”
“I haven’t seen anything,” said Fluttershy, shaking her head
“That’s good to know. Wait until I get back with our friends; then we will see if we can’t find this . . . entity.” As Fluttershy nodded, Twilight’s horn charged up with a white light, and seconds later, she disappeared.
“It’s a good thing I didn’t run into it on my own. Who knows what could have happened. Right, Angel? . . . Angel?” Quickly looking around, she couldn’t see any part of the white bunny. “Angel?”
Subconsciously adding her few flowers to a vase filled with water, she slowly trotted up the stairs and peeked in her bedroom. “Angel,” she sighed good-naturedly, spying a lump under the covers. “I know you’re there, and I can see you’ve brought a friend. Come on out, Angel.”
She waited, but the lump didn’t so much as budge. “Angel,” she warned.
Again, the bulge stayed put.
Fluttershy huffed quietly and blew a stray hair out of her face. She walked up to the bed and grasped the covers in her teeth. Dragging them down to the foot of the bed, she paused, eyes widening.
It wasn’t Angel and company who was in her bed; it was a pony.
Fluttershy froze. Her pupils taking up more and more of her eyes as time progressed. Her thumping heart was all she felt, and her panicked breathing filled her ears, which were splayed back against her head.
Her wings tensed, preparing to flee, wanting to flee, but she couldn’t manage to free her stone hooves from the ground’s pull.
But then she noticed something.
The pony hadn’t moved either.
Her body now listening to her, she cautiously took a step closer. And another. And another.
She couldn’t even tell if he was breathing.
A pointy, sky-blue horn was poking out through his pure white mane, and as her eyes trailed down his body, she could see that the rest of his coat matched the blue of his horn.
Using a hoof to cover her mouth, she let out a quiet gasp. He had wings. He was an alicorn.
A thunderclap filled the room as Fluttershy stepped on her squeaky floorboard.
The alicorn rolled over and fixed his electric blue eyes on Fluttershy’s.
Seconds later, his eyes slowly closed.
Wiping the moisture from her brow, Fluttershy silently let out a breath that she didn’t know she had been holding.
Just as quickly, the eyes popped open again. Except, this time, they focused.
Neither said anything for an untold time. It could have been hours. It could have been days. It could have been no time at all.
“Who would have known angels were horses.” The alicorn let out a low chuckle. “I guess there’s still a lot we don’t know about the world.” His voice was aged well beyond his body; he sounded even older than Granny Smith.
Fluttershy opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
“Might as well find another poor soul tonight, angel. I know what awaits me.”
“. . . W-what?” squeaked Fluttershy.
“Fiery damnation. Or if I’m lucky, absolutely nothing.” He slowly laid back against the pillow and looked up at the ceiling. “Go ahead and look for someone worthy. I’ll just wait for the demons to claim me.”
Fluttershy stood a little straighter now that he wasn’t looking at her. “Um . . . why don’t I stay here for a while? Maybe I could keep you company until the . . . um, things get here.”
He looked down at her without picking his head off the pillow. “As you wish.” He then closed his eyes.
And so, for several long minutes, that’s exactly what she did.
Her lips trembled, hesitant to break the silence, but eventually, her curiosity overrode her other emotions and prompted her to sate it. “Why do you think you aren’t worthy?”
His eyelids didn’t so much as twitch, and for a second, she wasn’t sure if he had heard the question.
“Why would I be?” he asked suddenly, cutting her off. “Don’t you know who I am—what I’ve done?”
She shook her head, her mane falling about her shoulders, but upon realizing that he didn’t see her, she spoke up. “I’m sorry, no. . . . But you could tell me, I mean, if you want.”
“A chance to unload on an angel? Sure. Why not.” He let out a long sigh. “I’m an old man, angel. An old, tired, lonely man. But it wasn’t always that way. I had friends. Good friends. Brothers. I stood up for them, they stood up for me.” He trailed off, staring into the distance.
Fluttershy sat on the floor and kept her eyes trained on the strange stallion.
“We went through more than our share of skirmishes, we did. Brought down pain on the enemy. Oh, we were a nasty bunch. They called us whenever there was dirty work to be done. We did it without question and always came out on top.”
“You were a soldier,” Fluttershy stated more than asked.
“Yes. Yes I was.” He looked down at Fluttershy and met her eyes, but they were unfocused, seeing things of a long time past. “Of course, one shouldn’t say ‘always.’”
Fluttershy nodded slowly, silently urging him on.
“. . . Deep in enemy territory, w-we—” Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and continued. “The sky was as black as the darkest oil. It flowed around us and hid us from sight. We were tasked to destroy the camp, so destroy it we would. But as we got close, the sky lit up with fire. The ground trembled underneath us. Death started whizzing all around from every side.”
He opened his eyes again, and Fluttershy could see right into his very soul. “One by one, my brothers fell. One by one, they bled. One by one, they didn’t get up.”
Fluttershy wiped the moisture from her eyes and sniffed quietly.
“We did the best we could. But there were too many.” Tears dripped from his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. “Do you know what it’s like to feel your brothers’ still-warm blood on your face? What it’s like to hide with the bodies of your friends? What it’s like to lie there while the bastards hover over you? To know that if you so much as blink, the twitch of a finger will end you?”
“I-I’m so sorr—”
“I had to lay there for a day, hardly daring to breath. But after they left, I followed them. I hunted the few who were left and put them down like the rabid animals they were. One. By. One.”
Fluttershy sobbed silently, her shoulder shaking.
“I was hailed as a hero. But I know the truth: I am a failure. If I was a hero, I would have saved the lives of my brothers. If I was a hero, I wouldn’t have this blood staining my hands. If I was a hero, I would be worthy of peace on the next life, angel.”
Fluttershy slowly climbed into the bed and laid down next to the stallion. She wrapped her forelegs around him and pulled him close against her. “You aren’t a monster,” she whispered in his ear. “War is horrible, but not the warriors.”
He snorted mirthlessly.
“I had a-a-a—knew a pony just like you, once. And do you know how I helped him?” she asked slowly. “All it took was a little thing to help him get started.”
He stayed silent, but his ear was angled towards her mouth.
She kissed his brow, whispering, “I forgive you. I forgive you for all the bad things you’ve done. You aren’t a bad pony. You did what you had to do. And if your friends were as close as you say you were, your friends forgive you. Everypony forgives you, so why don’t you forgive yourself?”
“. . . How?” he breathed.
“Only you know that,” she said.
He closed his eyes and turned away from her. “There was so much more I could have done,” he whispered.
“What? What could you have done differently?”
“Everything! I should have . . .”
“You didn’t. You couldn’t.” Fluttershy winced at the steel in her own voice. “That’s not how it happened. And nothing you can do will change that.”
He said nothing for a long time.
Rolling away from her slightly, he shifted in the bed, and Fluttershy understood the meaning behind that simple motion.
She carefully extracted herself from the embrace and walked out of the room. Silently shutting the door, she paused and took a few deep, shuddering breaths. Then, fluttering down the stairs, she wiped her eyes.
A knock on the door caused her head to snap to the source of the noise. She angled her flight and landed in front of the door. Opening it, she was greeted with the sight of her close friends.
Twilight smiled and said, “Fluttershy, we—have you been crying?”
She nodded. “A little.”
“What happened?” asked Rarity. “Are you all right?”
“I’m . . . fine, and I think I found the source of the magic.”
“Didn’t I tell you to wait for us?” asked Twilight sternly, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, yes, but you see, it’s a he, and he’s, um, in my bed.”
“And do you know this stallion’s name?” asked Twilight over Rainbow’s subdued snickering.
“. . . Lost. His name is Lost. Because he needs somepony to find him.”
Fluttershy awoke slowly, her body taking its leisurely time to adjust to the morning’s welcoming embrace. She let out a silent yawn and struggled to her hooves. Letting the blankets fall off her shoulder, she rubbed her tired eyes then slid down to the floor.
She silently plodded down the stairs, but paused at the bottom and watched the scene that was being played out on the floor.
Lost was sitting calmly on the floor, his horn alight, and a small carrot in a blue aura floated in front of him.
Across from him was Angel, who, against all odds, was eating the carrot.
Beholding the peaceful relations between the pair, Fluttershy’s mouth fell open as she gasped quietly, which caused Lost to look over his shoulder and meet her eyes. “Good morning, angel,” he said, the corner of his mouth curling upwards.
She shook her head once, jerking herself back into reality, and frowned slightly. “We went over this. I’m not an angel. I’m a pony. And my name is Fluttershy.”
“Well, my name’s not ‘Lost,’ either,” he replied, his young appearance still at odds with his aged voice.
“Do you finally want to share today?” she asked, her ears perking up slightly.
His mischievous smirk grew as he turned away and continued feeding the carrot to Angel. “There’s nothing wrong with nicknames.”
Rolling her eyes, she hung her head and brought her hoof up to her temple. There was no doubt that some of Lost’s antics could cause headaches. He still hadn’t said where he was from, his real name, or anything else of importance. The only thing Fluttershy knew about him was the pain he bore both inside and out from his time serving in the Royal Guard—that much she had figured out: she knew he must have had an injury because he had to relearn how to walk and use magic, and she knew he was a soldier from their first conversation. However, she still had so many questions.
“Are you ready for breakfast?” she asked, walking past him, as Angel snatched the remainder of the carrot and scampered off to a corner of the room.
“As always. You are an excellent cook.”
She felt her cheeks warm slightly, so she hastened her pace into the kitchen. “It’ll be done soon,” she called, opening the cupboard.
Soon, four slices of toast and two apples adorned a pair of plates, and she added two glasses of orange juice to the mix.
Breakfast ready, she turned around, opening her mouth, but before she could speak, she noticed that Lost was already patiently waiting at the table. She simply spun around once more and retrieved their plates from the counter before continuing over to the table.
“Did you sleep well?” she asked.
“Fine,” he answered far too quickly. “And you?”
She nodded while taking a bite out of her apple. “Good, but what I really want to know is how you made friends with Angel. He didn’t even want to look at you yesterday.”
“We . . . reached an understanding.”
“That’s good to hear,” she said, smiling brightly.
Lost took a bite out toast, chewed for a moment, and then swallowed. “Could . . . could you teach me how to use these today?” he asked slowly, giving his wings an experimental flap.
“I would love to.” Fluttershy smiled wider.
“You can do this, Lost. You almost had it that time.”
From his seated position, Lost grunted as he ripped a few twigs out his mane with his magic.
Fluttershy sat down next to him and wrapped a wing around his shoulders. “It’s okay if you don’t get it on the first try. Or, um, more. But that doesn’t mean you can’t do it. Just relax a bit and try again, okay?”
“I’m done.”
“Won’t you please try again? I’m sure you’ll get it this time.”
“No. I’m not going to fail again. I’ve already done enough of that in my life.”
Filing away the important glimpse into his mysterious past, Fluttershy lowered her voice and cooed softly, “Lost . . . look at me, please, Lost.”
Reluctantly, he looked down and met her eyes.
“Will you try just one more time for me, Lost? Please? And I mean really try your best.”
He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly through his nose, the warm air just barely caressing her cheeks.
“I’ll be right here.” She smiled.
He abruptly broke eye contact and looked around the serene glade while the sun and all of the warmth it brought shone down from above. The world was silent, save for the gentle breeze, and they were its only inhabitants. It was if all of Equestria was holding its breath in anticipation.
Shaking his mane, the final few leaves and sticks fell to the ground. He struggled to his hooves once more and rolled his neck around until it gave a disturbingly loud pop.
“Remember, just like I showed you,” encouraged Fluttershy, taking a step backward.
“Right.” His face a mask of concentration, he slowly unfurled his wings. “Just like you said. . . .” He thrust his wings downward in one fluid motion then brought them back up, angling them slightly like he had been told, so as to reduce drag. Slowly, at first, but quickly picking up speed, his wings generated puffs of air and blasted them into the forest floor.
Soon, Fluttershy could see that parts off his hooves were coming off the ground, and seconds later, all four of his hooves left the ground.
“Woo hoo!” she cheered, clapping her hooves together. “I knew you could do it!”
As he turned his head to face her, the breeze picked up slightly and caught the edge of his wing. She saw his look of satisfaction dissolve as he wobbled in the air.
“Don’t—” she started, but it was already too late.
Instead of landing, Lost attempted to correct his flight without knowing the proper methods, so he flailed around wildly; then just as quickly as he started, he stopped flailing and plummeted face-first into the ground.
Fluttershy sprinted forward and slid to a stop beside him as he lifted his head out of the dirt. “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” he grunted. “I’ve had worse.”
With an iron grip, Fluttershy suddenly grabbed Lost’s chin and angled it upwards while she brushed his mane from his forehead. She tsked quietly upon catching sight of his torn skin. “You’re bleeding.”
He reached a hoof up to his head, but before it could make contact with the slight incision, it was firmly pushed away.
“Don’t touch it,” she chided, lifting him to his hooves. “Come on back to the house, and we’ll get you cleaned up before anything sets in.”
He nodded once and let her guide him for the short distance back to the cottage. She opened the door for him and motioned over to the couch. Catching a glimpse of his face as he passed, she frowned: the cut had bled enough to where his left eye was screwed shut and the surrounding fur was heavily matted.
“I’ll be right back.” With purposeful strides, she walked into the kitchen and placed a small bucket under the faucet before turning on the water; she also grabbed a soft sponge and a cloth bandage from one of the cupboards. Placing the former in the bucket and looping the latter around her neck, she bit the bucket’s handle in her teeth and, after turning off the water, returned to Lost.
Humming quietly, Fluttershy set the bucket down next to the couch and grabbed the bandage in her hooves. She wrapped it tightly around Lost’s head several times and tied it snugly. She pulled the soaked sponge out of the bucket and squeezed it until it was damp. She brought it up to his face and gently dabbed around the rapidly reddening bandage; once the some of the red had been cleaned from his blue coat, she rinsed her sponge in the water and moved on to his eye.
Even softer than before, she laid the sponge on his eyelid and, with long, rhythmic strokes, worked more and more blood out of his coat.
Her melodious humming was a backdrop to her every motion: she had found out a long time ago that it helped her focus on her work, as well as to distract her patients.
As she finished and paused to take in another breath, he nodded and said, “Thank you, Fluttershy.”
Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t question the sudden usage of her real name after all this time. “I was happy to help, Lo—”
A second thump, and she was already out of her room, her fluid motions seamless in the darkness.
By the time the second scream tore out of Cliff’s throat, she was inside his room.
He was thrashing around in bed, his horn alight. Each time he flailed, he covered an object in his blue glow and sent it hurtling into the other side of the room.
Quickly sprinting to the bed, she ignored everything flying around her. Something smashed into her right wing, and she was sure she felt something snap, but the sharp pain was soon replaced by a dull ache.
She stopped by his bedside and found that his wild eyes were completely open, but there was no clarity in them, only terror.
Fluttershy caressed his face while items of all sorts continued to whiz past her head. She attempted to lock her eyes on his while singing to him in a calm, steady voice, but it had a little effect. He kept thrashing.
After her lullaby had come to a close, she started another without missing a note, this time wrapping her forelegs around him and hugging him to her chest.
Finally, she felt his heart slowing and heard less and less thumping as she saw the light of his horn dim.
Leaning back, she could see his eyes glimmering with intelligence, and his breathing was deeper and slower.
She left the bedside and retrieved the washcloth from where it had been thrown. Trotting back, she gently dabbed his brow until most of the sweat was gone. She returned the washcloth to the nightstand and finished her song.
But when she stopped singing, she found Cliff’s foreleg on her own. “Please. Keep singing,” he said, looking into her eyes.
She nodded and resumed.
He closed his eyes but kept his ears angled towards her.
She kept humming her simple tune for what felt like hours, and the blissful look never left his face.
Once he drifted off, she stumbled back to her room and laid down. She was asleep before she hit the bed.
“Cliff, are you coming?” called Fluttershy, sitting by the door. She had a small wicker basket looped over her wing.
He groaned, his eyes closed, from his sprawled position atop the couch.
“You said you wanted to,” she said.
“That was before I had . . . didn’t sleep well for an entire week.”
She trotted over to the couch and placed a forehoof on his shoulder. “I promise it’ll be fun,” she said, smiling, “and I’d really like your company.”
He groaned once more and brought his hoof up to his brow. “Just let me sleep.”
She softly sighed, her ears wilting. “Oh, all right. But if you change your mind, I’ll be outsi—”
“Fine.”
“I—”
“Go,” he grunted.
“Sorry,” she muttered, her head falling. Readjusting her basket, Fluttershy returned to the door and trotted outside.
The air was a perfect temperature: not too hot, but not too cold either. Oranges, reds, and golds adorned each tree in a magnificent display that rivaled the spring’s flowers. A perfect blue filled the sky, and several pegasi were banking sharply as they raced around in the endless expanse.
Fluttershy took a deep breath and smiled slightly as the season’s change filled her senses. Admiring the simple wonders, she strolled along the edge of the Everfree until she arrived at the small meadow.
She pulled a small checkered blanket out of her basket and, after shaking it out, carefully spread it across the grass.
She gently sat down and sighed, looking over at the spot where she wished Cliff was sitting.
Heavy wing beats came from behind her, causing her ears to perk up; however, she gave no other indication that she heard.
“. . . Hey, Fluttershy?” Cliff’s voice was tentative.
“Hm?” She looked over her shoulder to see that Cliff was standing behind her, not quite meeting her eyes.
“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry I snapped at you, and I . . .” He drifted off into silence and made a half-hearted motion to the picnic area.
She smiled and tucked her mane behind her ear. “Do you want to sit with me?”
He flashed her a quick smile then trotted past her and took his seat, his face becoming somber once more. “I have no excuse for how I acted.”
Fluttershy opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a foreleg.
“I am truly sorry. You have been nothing but perfect to me, and I treated you like that.”
“It’s fine. Really. I forgive you.”
“Thank you, Fluttershy.”
She nodded and began emptying the basket of the food.
“Did I hurt you last night?” he asked.
“Hm?” She looked over at him to see that he was staring intently at her slightly discolored right wing. “Oh, i-it’s n-nothing,” she stammered, quickly looking back down at the basket.
“It’s not nothing, is it?” he slid closer and leaned down. “Can you open your wing?”
She didn’t respond.
“I didn’t break it, did I?” he asked quietly, his voice completely void of emotion.
“No, no, no!” She spun to meet his gaze. “It’s just a little bruised.”
“Promise?” he asked.
“Promise. I’ll be just fine in another day or two.” She smiled.
“Can I do anything to help?” he asked.
“You don’t have to do anything. I’ll be fine soon. I promised, remember?”
His gaze narrowed. “Is there something I can do right now that could help you?”
“Well . . . um, I mean, there is one thing that could help. . . .”
“Say it, and consider it done.”
“Well, if you rub at the tip of my wing and slowly work your way up to the base, you can get the blood flowing. And bruises often heal better when the blood can flow around them,” she muttered sheepishly, hiding half her face behind her mane.
He nodded once. “Lie down.”
Also nodding, she laid out on the blanket and relaxed her wing. “Now, gently pull my wing ope—”
She hissed quietly as he did as she instructed. “Last thing: please be gentle. It’s still sore.”
“Of course, Fluttershy,” he said, lighting up his horn.
With a feather-like touch, he covered her wing in his magic and massaged around, but never directly on, the bruise as he worked upwards. Next he rubbed the center of the ugly mark outwards and upwards.
Fluttershy winced and held back tears until a few minutes later. “P-please stop,” she whimpered. She took a shuddering breath and spoke in a much calmer voice. “Thank you,” she said. She tapped the ground next to her then laid her head down on her forelegs.
He nodded and laid down next to her, but a second later, he lit up his horn again.
“What are you—ohhhh.” Her query turned into a moan as his magic danced over her back and pressed into the tense muscles.
“I want to do this for you. You deserve it and more after all you’ve done for me. Please don’t ask me to stop.”
Her eyes drifting closed, Fluttershy’s tongue poked out of mouth as her moaning turned into contented purring; she was in no condition to answer, anyways.
“Cliff? Cliff?” Fluttershy walked around the house and listened carefully for a reply, but none came. “Cliiiiiff?”
“Have you seen Cliff, Angel?” she asked.
Angel shrugged and pointed to the door.
“He went outside?” she asked.
Pointing more insistently at the door, he nodded.
Fluttershy trotted over to the door and placed her hoof on the door handle. As she did, she noticed that the door was already ajar. She pushed it open with her hoof and walked out into the night.
The crisp air was her only greeting, for Cliff was nowhere to be found.
Hugging her wings against her body in an attempt to ward off the chill, she took a few crunching steps forward into the snow and looked around, the moon and the stars providing a silvery light that she could see by.
“Cliff?
There was nothing around her that gave any indication as to where he was, but that didn’t stop her from looking. She searched in her backyard, her front yard, and even ventured into the small glade where Cliff had first learned to fly, all those months ago; but each time she came up empty.
“Cliff?” she called. “Answer me, please.”
If he heard her, there was no indication.
“Where are you, Cliff?” she sighed, looking up into the night sky. She frowned slightly in concentration as she cocked her head to the side.
A single patch of Luna’s twinkling tapestry was missing, and it looked remarkably similar to how a cloud would.
Shivering as her warm wings left her sides, she jumped into the air and set off for the mysterious object. The air rushed past her, ruffling her coat as she passed. When she arrived at the cloud, a chill had already set in.
She landed on the cloud and saw Cliff’s form silhouetted by the bright moon.
Once again wrapping her wings around herself, she trotted forward. “There you are, Cliff. I’ve been looking all over for you. Are you all right? Why didn’t you answer me?”
His ears didn’t even twitch.
“Cliff?” she asked, shivering, as she took another step forward. She drew level with the edge of the cloud and sat down next to him.
She watched the mist billow out from his nose as he stared off into the distance; following his gaze, she saw nothing but the magnificence of the night.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked suddenly. “The way the moonlight sparkles against the snow. The way the stars shine against the pure black. . . . I’ve never seen it so clearly before.”
Another shiver wracking her body, Fluttershy nodded. “It’s l-lovely.”
“You shouldn’t have come out here without a coat,” he said, frowning.
“I was w-worried,” she chattered.
Still without looking at her, he extended his wing and slid closer to her. Once his side had made contact with hers, he firmly wrapped his wing around her, drawing her close.
She hummed in contentment as the warmth flowed from him and quickly banished the chill.
“Thank you, Fluttershy,” he said, finally looking down at her.
“Why are you thanking me? You’re the one who is keeping me warm,” she answered, meeting his eyes.
“Not for this, but for everything else. Even knowing what I told you on the first day I met you, you let me stay. You never pushed me to reveal more than I was willing, and never questioned when I woke up in the middle of the night, screaming, but you were always there to hold me.”
“Of course. You needed a friend.”
“You’ve been more than that. Just being around you has made me feel better than I have in a long, long time. I know exactly where I would be if you hadn't been there, and I don’t like it.” He gripped her tighter with his wing and used his hoof to brush a bit of her mane out of her eyes. “From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”
She let her silence speak for her as her rested her head on his shoulder and gently nuzzled him.
“You deserve to know the truth about me. The first day I was here I only gave you a peek into what I’ve been keeping to myself. I think it’s time to let it all out. . . . But only if you want to hear it.” The wing around her shoulders relaxing, his eyes slowly drifted from her to once again look across the land.
“I would be honored.”
“Are you sure? It might get . . . intense.”
“You need this. And I never told this to anypony before, but . . . my b-brother served in the Royal Guard just like you, and when he came back, he wasn’t the same. That’s how I knew how to take care of you.” She reached her hoof over to his face and tugged until he met her eyes. “I’m sure. And no matter what you say, I won’t think any less of you.”
The wing around her shoulders tightened as he nodded. “Thank you.”
