In spring, Fluttershy takes a leap of faith and reveals hidden feelings to a close friend, leading to a short, passionate affair. But come winter, she finds what of love lasts when affairs end.
In spring, Fluttershy takes a leap of faith and reveals long hidden feelings to a close friend, leading to a short, passionate affair. But come winter, she discovers what of love lasts when affairs end.
Fluttershy led Rainbow Dash towards the forest clearing. Fluttershy had never brought another pony this far into Whitetail Woods before. This forest was not a place for ponies. Ponies could so often be loud and disruptive and thoughtless. This forest was a place for the quiet and the restful, and the skittering foxes and the twittering songbirds, and for her, for Fluttershy to be alone with the trees and her thoughts. But now, Rainbow Dash walked with her.
Rainbow Dash walked slowly. She took long, easy steps. She yawned often, and sporadically hopped up into the air to dive between pairs of tree branches or kick wayward clouds out of the sky or sometimes only to hover in the air for a moment before she lost interest in that, too, and dropped back down onto her hooves. Occasionally, she would lazily flap her wings without rising off the ground and say something to Fluttershy about Wonderbolts or weather patterns or friends. Fluttershy would try to smile or laugh, because she couldn’t think clearly about what Rainbow had said. She could think only about what would happen when they reached the clearing, and everything that could happen afterwards.
Fluttershy wondered if she was making a mistake. She wondered if she would lose all she had built up with her friend, or if instead she might gain all she’d ever hoped they both might have. Because those thoughts spun in her head, Fluttershy couldn’t remember the right way to talk. So Rainbow Dash would give up on trying to talk with her altogether and busy herself with kicking at fallen branches or flipping over rocks on the path instead.
While Rainbow Dash walked slowly, Fluttershy walked quickly. She took abrupt, awkward steps, stumbling over her own legs and every little stone and root. Her wings twitched and trembled at every embarrassment, and Fluttershy kept glancing back to see if Rainbow noticed how inadequate she was. But, thankfully, Rainbow barely ever looked up at her. Fluttershy shouldn’t have been surprised. Rainbow was used to seeing her act nervous, but Fluttershy could not quiet the mosquito-wing buzz of disappointment that lingered in her chest at Rainbow’s unawareness. Rainbow Dash might have noticed that this time was different. She might have noticed that Fluttershy wasn’t only nervous, but was nervous for her, for Rainbow. Fluttershy knew she could not blame Rainbow Dash for not finding something she had hidden for so long, but if only Rainbow would ask her what was wrong…
Regardless, Fluttershy had no more time to fret over the matter, as the brook lay just ahead of them, and beyond it the clearing.
Fluttershy stumbled ahead of Rainbow Dash and crossed the trickling brook and into open space. She moved from among the old trees whose roots dug deep into earth, whose branches rose far, far above, and whose trunks were tough and scraggly with age to the small, circular clearing carpeted by low, soft grass lightly wet with dew and where the sun’s light passed down through gaps between the leaves.
Springtime had always been beautiful in Whitetail Woods. But this season, Fluttershy and the animals of the woods had strived to ensure it would be unforgettable. The branches of every tree surrounding the clearing had blossomed. Trunks close together, leaves intermixed, the softly pink, butterfly-shaped crabapple flowers brushed into and among the strikingly yellow, confetti-style bursting forsythia buds, and which met with the drooping, white pendant flowers of the yellowoods.
Fluttershy heard Rainbow Dash’s breath catch behind her. She allowed herself the smallest of smiles and glanced back. Rainbow Dash stood in the brook, the water eddying around her legs, and she looked up at the clearing, mouth open and eyes wide.
Fluttershy’s smile grew. She had hoped so much that she could make the clearing mean as much to Rainbow Dash as it meant to her. For this was the clearing where, as a young filly, Fluttershy had fallen from the sky and landed in a cloud of butterflies, and then discovered the earth and the trees and the animals. It was the same clearing where, years after, Fluttershy had returned alone as a less young filly, not to visit, but to begin a new life on the ground by herself. It was in this clearing that she had discovered the crying and hurt daisy-white bunny rabbit whom she scooped up in one of her wings and carried back to her cottage, and who became the first of the animals to live in her home. It was in this clearing that she had made new friends among the animals of the forest and stopped being alone. It was in this clearing where those friends had helped her sculpt her first garden out of the soil, and where they had shared in every harvest since. It was in this clearing that Fluttershy had lain in the grass and looked up at the sky and thought about the scruffy, loud little pegasus pony who had been her only friend when she lived in the clouds. It was to this clearing that Fluttershy had galloped to celebrate when that same pegasus pony tumbled into Ponyville one day, not so little anymore. It was in this clearing that Fluttershy had wondered and dreamed of herself and Rainbow Dash together, if only Fluttershy could work up the courage to ask. And now, this was the clearing Fluttershy brought Rainbow to, to say all she had never been bold enough to say before.
Rainbow Dash finally moved beside Fluttershy. Cool water still dripping down their legs, they walked through the dewy, deep green grass and the clusters of daisies and tulips and the flowering hydrangea bushes. A wind passed through the branches so first one-by-one and then all at once the trees rustled and hummed as if in friendly greeting, and blossoms of all colors drifted down into their manes like winter’s first snow, and neither Fluttershy nor Rainbow Dash moved to brush the flowers away.
Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash sat down together in the grass. They stayed quiet, for then the songbirds appeared. At first, they were only lightning flashes of color and beating wings between the blossoms, scarlet wings flitting in pink blooms, yellow feathers among the white petals, blue tails in green stalks. Then, not with the rigidity of scribbles on paper, but with the free-flowing, organic melody of springtime, the birds sang for them. It was a whisper there first, and then a titter here, and then a warble over there, and then it came as a full chorus of trills.
Rainbow Dash looked at Fluttershy and smiled, and Fluttershy forgot about the clearing and the flowering trees and the singing birds, and only knew Rainbow Dash’s smile.
Fluttershy opened her mouth to say all the things she had rehearsed. How she had felt when that scruffy, loud little pegasus had first stood between her and her jeering classmates. How often she thought about all the nights they had stayed up past their bedtimes and Fluttershy had listened as Rainbow Dash told her all the things they would see and do together, dreams of Wonderbolts and airshows and adoring fans, just as soon as she taught Fluttershy to fly as well as she could, and even made Fluttershy believe it all might come true. How a little bit of Fluttershy’s heart had broken when she left Cloudsdale for the ground, and how her heart had become whole again when Rainbow came down, too. How Rainbow Dash was everything she had always wanted to be, talented and strong and confident, and all Fluttershy had ever hoped to have and keep close.
But all that came from Fluttershy’s mouth was a horrible, embarrassed squeak.
Rainbow Dash leaned towards her and asked, “What?”
And with Rainbow’s face close, and in her eyes the reflections of the sunlight and the tree blossoms, and her face so very close to Fluttershy’s, and Rainbow’s lips parted and her warm breath tickling Fluttershy’s cheek, and the light grass underneath Fluttershy’s stomach, and the scent of flowers and Rainbow Dash mixing in her nose, and listening to the songbirds and the rustling trees and the trickling brook, and with Rainbow’s mouth so very, very close to her own, Fluttershy reached a wing around her friend and pulled Rainbow Dash the rest of the way towards her.
Fluttershy met Rainbow Dash’s lips with her own. Fluttershy closed her eyes and her head spun and she seemed to drift somewhere faraway and high up into the air where there was nothing but each other. She said everything she could not say in words, all the years of waiting and hoping and all feelings never expressed.
Then Fluttershy pulled back as quickly as she had pushed forward, and watched from behind her mane for Rainbow Dash’s reaction.
Rainbow Dash did not speak, and Fluttershy immediately knew that it had all been a mistake. She would have turned to run if only her legs would work and her whole world hadn’t just shattered and collapsed all around and on top of her.
Eyes wide, in a daze, Rainbow Dash touched a hoof to her own lips, and Fluttershy tried and failed to find the words to apologize.
But then, Rainbow Dash looked up at her and grinned.
Both terrified and suddenly filled with hope, Fluttershy sat and waited.
Wordlessly, still grinning, Rainbow Dash dove forward and threw their mouths together. Fluttershy’s mind went blank of everything but longing and joy, and she pulled Rainbow close.
They fell together down into the grass, and did not rise again until after sunset.
Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash returned together to the clearing in Whitetail Woods on a hot, sunny summer afternoon. It was Rainbow Dash who led Fluttershy this time, cantering ahead of her, having long since memorized the path. They had returned to the clearing dozens of times since that first trip just two months before.
Just two months! Fluttershy giggled as she stepped over a knot of flowers and watched Rainbow Dash, just ahead of her, her marefriend’s wings flaring and unflaring excitedly as she trotted between trees. Fluttershy wasn’t sure if she really believed that only two months before she had fretted and worried over how and whether to tell Rainbow Dash how she felt.
Rainbow Dash swung around suddenly and kissed Fluttershy on the lips, as if having read Fluttershy’s mind and to highlight the difference between then and now, before swinging back forwards in the same motion and continuing on ahead.
Fluttershy giggled again and tripped. It had been exactly what she had always hoped for, more than what she had always hoped for, and completely different than she had always hoped for, all at the same time, and it certainly hadn’t felt like only two months. She and Rainbow Dash seemed to have already made up for all the lost years. To Fluttershy’s surprise, it had been Rainbow Dash who drove their relationship forward. Rainbow had leapt into love with the same thrilling enthusiasm and overwhelming excitement with which she leapt into aerial somersaults and piles of hay fries at the Hayburger. It was Rainbow who visited the cottage nearly every day and stayed through the night, and who pulled Fluttershy along with her on picnics and hikes and practices, and who brought Fluttershy out on what must have already been a hundred dinners and shows, and who brought Fluttershy little gifts and bouquets every other day. Fluttershy already couldn’t imagine a time when Rainbow Dash wasn’t always a kiss and a nuzzle away.
Fluttershy hadn’t spent nearly as much time with her animal friends, or any of her friends. She hated to neglect them, but she loved the unbelievable attention Rainbow Dash gave her. She hoped they would all understand how long she had waited for this, and allow her to be selfish for just a little while longer.
Rainbow Dash sidled up beside Fluttershy and slid a wing across her back and down her flanks, breaking her from her reverie. Fluttershy felt her face go warm, and Rainbow Dash winked and nipped her ear and then grinned and laughed and jumped ahead.
Watching Rainbow Dash hop between the trees and somersault over and under branches and call to Fluttershy to hurry up, Fluttershy couldn’t help but feel that she had been swept up into one of Rainbow Dash’s flying tricks. It felt as if Rainbow Dash had plucked her off the ground and hoisted her high up into the air. Held in Rainbow Dash’s hooves, Fluttershy raced over the treetops and through loop-de-loops and tore apart clouds and flipped upside down, and it was exhilarating and incredible and overwhelming and terrifying all at the same time.
Fluttershy suddenly noticed that she couldn’t see Rainbow anymore. She paused and looked about, but didn’t see any hint of blue wings among the trees. She ran forward to catch up with her marefriend. The only thing more frightening than being swept up into one of Rainbow Dash’s tricks would be to be left alone on the ground again.
She heard the branches above her rustle, and something grabbed her from behind.
Rainbow Dash’s raspy, excited voice yelled, “Gotcha!” in her ear, and suddenly Fluttershy’s thoughts became reality.
Rainbow Dash’s hooves squeezed tight around Fluttershy’s chest, and Rainbow’s strong wings shoved the air all around them down to the ground, and they rose rapidly up into the air together. They sped through trees and swung around branches. Leaves slapped Fluttershy in the face and her stomach churned with each of Rainbow Dash’s twists and turns, and then they were above the trees.
In every direction, all Fluttershy saw was the vibrant green of the treetops, already quickly receding as Rainbow Dash carried her higher. Rainbow Dash’s wings beat furiously by Fluttershy’s sides, and Fluttershy felt Rainbow’s heavy, excited breath in her mane. Soon, all the trees below seemed to merge into one great green mass, and still they rose higher. Far to one side, Fluttershy saw little Ponyville, and far to another, the low stormclouds of the Everfree Forest, and far and away the tall north mountains. They rocketed into dewy clouds, where water droplets collected on Fluttershy’s feathers, and then they shot back out the other side and above the clouds, too. The air grew cold, and looking down all Fluttershy saw were the white tops of the clouds, like a great, wispy carpet rolled out far beneath them, and Rainbow Dash abruptly released her grip around Fluttershy, and Fluttershy fell.
Fortunately, Fluttershy’s wings spread by instinct and caught her. She rolled out into an easy glide and looked up to scold Rainbow.
But Rainbow Dash was already upon her. Still grinning, Rainbow nuzzled her neck and cheek, and all of Fluttershy’s upset feelings were forgotten. Fluttershy met Rainbow Dash in the open air and returned her caress.
But Rainbow flapped her wings again and hopped away from her, rising higher. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled at Fluttershy.
Fluttershy caught the meaning and pumped her own wings, and followed after her marefriend. She reached Rainbow Dash, and Rainbow Dash swung underneath and then beside her and then up, and they flew upwards together at a gentle pace. Fluttershy’s world was nothing but Rainbow Dash and blue. The blue was everything and everywhere, above her and to every side, and appeared infinitely vast. She flew with Rainbow Dash up through the unfathomably deep and distant blue, and it was only them, and they criss-crossed over and under each other, brushing their wings against each other in loving little touches.
Rainbow Dash swooped underneath her and playfully nipped at the inside of Fluttershy’s legs. She immediately swept away from Fluttershy again and turned and stuck her tongue out at Fluttershy, and flew quickly up and away.
Fluttershy smiled and gave chase. She beat her wings and pushed herself faster and higher, towards Rainbow.
Rainbow laughed and flew higher, and Fluttershy beat her wings ever harder to catch up. But when Fluttershy came near her, Rainbow sped up and flew further away. And then Fluttershy approached her again, and Rainbow Dash easily sped away from her, and then it happened again and again and again. No matter how many times Fluttershy drove herself within reach of her marefriend, Rainbow Dash could still slip quickly away.
The winds had gotten stronger, and blew more fiercely the higher they went. Fluttershy, not used to flying against the wind, had to work harder and harder to keep from being thrown out of the sky. And the cold had deepened, seeping through her coat and down into her muscles, and Fluttershy’s every breath came out as white mist. The light blue around them had turned a strange, pseudo-dusk of dark, deep blue. Worst of all, Rainbow was still getting ever further away from her.
Rainbow called back to her to catch up, and Fluttershy strove to fly harder, but she knew it was hopeless.
Fluttershy never could, never would fly as fast or as high as Rainbow Dash. She realized then that she would never be able to reach her. Even when they were together, Rainbow Dash would soon be out of reach again.
Fluttershy strained to push herself higher, as high as she could possibly go. But a heavy wind rushed down and into her, and she strained against that, too, but her wings were tired and sore. Fluttershy knew she had already reached a point where she would never be able to fly down to the ground without help, but still she strove to go higher, past all the pain, no matter how hopeless it was, to be with Rainbow that short while.
Just as Fluttershy’s wings gave out and she began to sink into the ocean-sky of dusk, Rainbow Dash shot back down towards her from the dark blue above and caught Fluttershy in her hooves.
Rainbow Dash whispered, softly this time, “Gotcha.”
Fluttershy relaxed and let her wings go limp, safe in Rainbow Dash’s embrace. She rested her muzzle against Rainbow’s neck, feeling her marefriend’s warm heartbeat there.
Rainbow Dash relaxed, too, and folded her wings around Fluttershy.
They fell together. Tumbling in freefall, gripping and feeling each other with their hooves, their bodies plummeted and spun and pressed to each other, and the wind tore at their manes and their limbs and they rushed together in a wild dance through the sky, out of control and at the mercy of the world. But Fluttershy didn’t care, didn’t feel any fear. For in that moment, in spite of the wind trying to tear them apart, she and Rainbow Dash fell together. As wild and out of control as she was, she was finally with Rainbow Dash. She held on tight to Rainbow Dash, tighter than she had ever held onto anything, for she knew the fall would not last, and that made every moment incalculably precious. She was suddenly glad for the relentless wind that ripped the tears from her eyes as soon as they appeared, so Rainbow would never see them.
They went from cold to cool and through the wet clouds and then from warm to hot. They passed through tufts of leaves, and then Rainbow Dash flared her wings, and all at once they slowed.
Rainbow Dash gently lowered Fluttershy down to the forest floor, and lay her on the soft grass. Their bodies were still joined, and Fluttershy’s ran her hooves through Rainbow’s mane, and Rainbow caressed Fluttershy’s sides with her wings.
With Rainbow Dash’s lips on her neck, Fluttershy knew, for that day at least, that they were in rhythm together.
Fluttershy dug her hoof down into the cold, hard dirt of Whitetail Woods. She worked silently and without complaint. When she finished, she loosened the scarf around her neck and wiped the little bit of sweat from her forehead, and stepped back.
“How is this?” she asked the chubby gopher who had appeared in front of her door a month before, two of his legs broken.
He scampered up to the burrow she had dug and sniffed. He had healed well, but he still had trouble digging, especially in soil turned tough by the cold. He disappeared down the burrow, and Fluttershy heard him sniffing about underneath the dirt. He popped back out a moment later, chittering happily.
“You’re welcome,” Fluttershy said, rubbing his head. “Goodbye, until spring. I’ll miss you.”
He chittered a farewell and dropped back down into his new burrow. He was an early hibernator, and after he finished gathering food he wouldn’t come back out until the first thaw.
Fluttershy sighed and tightened her scarf again as a cold breeze fell down upon her. There had already been a dozen goodbyes before the chubby gopher, and she didn’t know how many were still to come. Probably a hundred, if not more. She walked away from the burrow, deeper into the woods, to check on the beaver she had, years before, discovered crying and hurt and alone underneath a fallen stump. Above her, the trees had turned orange and red and yellow and brown. Fluttershy’s every step produced a brittle crunch of dried leaves underneath. The trees were quiet now except for an occasional rustle in the cold wind. The birds had already gone. That had been another she didn’t know how many goodbyes and wish-you-wells and see-you-in-springs.
The beaver lived near the brook. He would need help gathering enough sticks and logs to last through the coming winter. He wouldn’t hibernate, but he would be locked up in his pond all through the winter. That would be another goodbye, but thankfully not today.
Autumn was a season of goodbyes.
It was Fluttershy’s worst season. This season, when every one of her friends would fly away, or disappear underground, or begin staying home and sleeping all day. She would spend weeks saying goodbyes, and then have nothing left to do but ready herself for the long isolation of winter. She liked to tell everypony that she was used to saying goodbye, so much so that she didn’t feel a thing anymore when she said it, that she didn’t care at all.
It was a lie. Fluttershy had never gotten used to saying goodbye, and never would. It wouldn’t have been so bad if she didn’t always help her friends leave her. She helped dig their burrows and dens, and gather food, and point the way towards migration.
Fluttershy would never ask them to stay, of course. She would never act so selfishly. Her friends had their own lives, she knew, and sometimes their lives took them far away from her.
It was also her busiest season. At no other time of year was there so much work to be done. That meant she hadn’t had much time for Rainbow Dash. Fluttershy only saw her marefriend once every few days, and then she was too tired to do much more than talk for a while and then go to sleep. She could tell Rainbow Dash was becoming frustrated and bored. But Fluttershy had responsibilities to her other friends that absolutely had to be kept.
Thinking back on the past few months, Fluttershy suspected Rainbow Dash’s boredom had begun earlier than this. The heat of spring and summer had long since faded.
At first, the gifts and the dinners and the shows had begun to taper off. Fluttershy didn’t complain, of course. She had never asked Rainbow for any of those things, and would certainly never demand them of her. But Fluttershy had still noticed when they stopped. The unannounced visits to her cottage happened less and less, too. After a time, it became Fluttershy who most often sought Rainbow Dash out, where before Rainbow had so doggedly stayed near. Then, with the first cold nights, the trips out to the clearing had ended, and those Fluttershy missed most of all.
Now autumn had arrived, and they barely saw each other. Even when Rainbow Dash asked her to come to her practices, Fluttershy had to say no. She was simply too busy.
Rainbow Dash had told her that she understood, and Fluttershy wanted to believe that she did. But Fluttershy knew Rainbow, and she knew what Rainbow felt even when her marefriend didn’t give those feelings voice. Rainbow Dash felt hurt that Fluttershy couldn’t make time for her, and maybe even a little betrayed. And Fluttershy knew also that Rainbow became bored when others didn’t engage her, and that she grew frustrated when she felt she was being ignored.
In a way, Fluttershy felt that their relationship was like a heavy rock fallen in a calm lake. When it first hit the surface, it made a great splash of waves that rushed in all directions and left no water anywhere in the lake undisturbed. But the rock had sunk and the waves had turned to ripples, and soon those ripples would abate and the water’s surface would become smooth and flat again.
But not yet, and it wasn’t inevitable. Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash had arranged a date for that night at Fluttershy’s cottage, a whole night just for each other. Fluttershy smiled and thought about the vegetable soup and salad she would prepare and how she would ask Rainbow Dash about her practices and Rainbow would talk and shout and make silly motions with her hooves to explain how a trick worked, and then Fluttershy would lead Rainbow up to her bedroom and draw the curtains. Fluttershy giggled and blushed the more she thought about that part, but she knew Rainbow Dash wouldn’t be bored any longer after she saw what Fluttershy had planned for her there.
Fluttershy caught sight of the beaver’s dam between some trees nearby and trotted towards it, a newfound spring in her step.
That night, in her cottage, Fluttershy sat down at her dinner table. She was alone. The cottage was silent.
Her cottage had never been silent before. There was almost always a flurry of activity. Critters skittering and chittering on the floor, underneath chairs and shelves, into and out of the walls. Birds in the birdhouses, on the window sills, fluttering about the ceiling, out the window, in through the chimney. And from outside always drifted in the sounds of the cats and the dogs and the foxes and the deer playing and quarreling, and otters and beavers splashing in the brook, and crickets and grasshoppers and cicadas chirping in the trees. At night, the animals that didn’t sleep crept and lurked in grass outside, and in the house could be heard the slow, sleeping breaths of a hundred living beings. Even in autumn and winter, the sounds never fully died away.
On occasion over the past few months, all the critters had graciously gone to give Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash privacy for an evening. But on those nights, Rainbow Dash’s boisterous voice had more than made up for the lack of animals.
On this night, the critters had gone, but Rainbow Dash had never come to take their place.
From her seat, Fluttershy glanced up at the clock. Rainbow Dash was hours late.
Fluttershy had nibbled at the salad, but the soup in the pot on the table lay untouched, and mushy peas and celery slices floated atop the cold broth.
Fluttershy didn’t know to feel. Disappointed, she supposed. And she wanted to be angry, but couldn’t seem to work up the energy. She wondered if she should worry, and lie to herself and say Rainbow Dash would never forget such an important date. Or maybe she should hope that Rainbow had tried to arrive on time, but had been held up, and felt terribly bad about it, and was rushing to come and apologize.
The door of her cottage opened, not suddenly or quickly, but with a slow creak.
Fluttershy turned and saw Rainbow Dash walk inside. Rainbow’s head was lowered, her wings limp, and her steps slow.
At first, Fluttershy thought she had been right. Something unfortunate had come up that caused Rainbow to be late, but now she was here, and she would explain and apologize. But then Fluttershy instantly knew that wasn’t it at all, for Rainbow Dash didn’t look up and smile embarrassedly or apologetically, or smile or say anything at all. She only walked to the table and sat down.
Fluttershy waited.
Rainbow Dash looked over the food on the table, her eyes distant and listless. She pulled out an envelope she had tucked in her wing and set it in front of Fluttershy.
On the envelope, Fluttershy saw the winged lightning bolt insignia of the Wonderbolts. She opened the envelope and pulled out a letter. She read the words and quickly realized that they were calling Rainbow Dash far away.
Fluttershy laid the letter back down.
Rainbow looked at her, and Fluttershy saw that her eyes were rimmed with red.
Rainbow Dash said, “Please.”
Somehow, incredibly, Fluttershy smiled and said, “Of course.”
Rainbow Dash grinned and leapt across the table and wrapped her hooves and wings around Fluttershy.
Fluttershy gripped her back and cried into Rainbow Dash’s mane.
They spent the rest of the night pretending that everything was as it had been. Fluttershy told herself that it wasn’t so bad. She had expected this from the beginning. She had always known she couldn’t hold onto Rainbow Dash for long. Rainbow was too wild to stay on the ground forever. This was just one more goodbye among hundreds.
Fluttershy lied to herself through the whole night.
Again, as she had so many times before, Fluttershy walked deep into Whitetail Woods. She walked along the same well-trodden path, but the path was different now. For the first time, it had been marked by hooves other than her own. Rainbow Dash had walked it as many times as Fluttershy had that year, and it would bear signs of her presence for many seasons to come.
The forest was white with snow, and snowflakes flittered down from the sky like countless daylit fireflies and nestled in her mane and coat and tail. Snow-blanketed trees stood along the path, their bare branches, encased in translucent frost, reached up into the falling white and towards the glowing gray clouds above. The snow on the ground was perfectly undisturbed and pure except for the craters left by Fluttershy’s hooves in a trail behind her, quickly filling with new snowfall. The forest was silent and still but for Fluttershy’s hoofsteps, her calm breath, and the whispering butterfly-wingbeat of snow resting upon snow.
Fluttershy was alone again. She had almost forgotten what it was like to walk that path alone. As she walked, she saw the ditch Rainbow Dash had once tripped over while talking excitedly about a horseshoe contest won against Applejack and sprawled head over hooves to the ground and stuck her tongue out when Fluttershy giggled at her. And Fluttershy saw, too, the tree where they had met the squirrel who clambered up their legs and tugged playfully at their manes and followed them all the way to the clearing. Along the sides of the path, Fluttershy saw a hundred, a thousand happy memories, and did not feel alone.
She soon arrived at the brook, and found its water stopped in ice. She crept across the delicate surface and into the clearing.
In the open air of the clearing, with no umbrella of tree branches, the snow piles had collected and risen higher than anywhere else in the forest. Fluttershy waded through snow until she found a spot on the ground where she knew she had lain down with Rainbow Dash in springtime. She dug into the snow and sat down, tucking her hooves beneath her and folding her wings at her side. In the ground, some small remnant of the warmth she and Rainbow had shared there must have remained, as she began to feel less cold.
Fluttershy always returned to the clearing in winter. She didn’t know why. Perhaps to re-feel the sun, and re-smell the blossoms, and re-hear the birds and the running brook, if only in memory. She had never been able to. She had never seen past the stiff, lifeless reality of winter. And with all of the animals away or asleep or hiding from the cold, she had felt more alone than ever. All she had on those previous winter trips were memories of lost opportunities, and almost-beens but never-woulds, and yearning and longing for a friend who would never be anything more, and of all the years and springs and summers Fluttershy spent never as close to that friend as she knew she could have been, if not for her fear and anxiety and want of courage.
But something had changed. Something in the winter air, or the frozen soil, or the slumbering trees, or in herself, she could not tell. Where before on all those previous winter walks she had only ever seen leafless branches, now she saw the flitting, singing birds and lively blossoms of spring. Where before she had only ever seen the white-covered ground, void of warmth, she now saw the soft, dewy green grass. Where before she had only seen the air empty but for falling snow, now she saw herself and Rainbow Dash, tumbling out of the sky, holding each other fast. She felt the down feathers of Rainbow’s wings at her flanks, Rainbow’s hooves around her withers, Rainbow’s lips on her own, and the heat and passion and heady rhythm of their bodies in motion together.
Fluttershy realized it was everything that had changed, and that would never be the same again. The regret and the longing and the disappointment were gone, and replaced with memories of time not wasted, and songs not unsung, and sweet nothings not unspoken.
Fluttershy drew into herself, and the cold fell away, and the snow melted, and the trees bloomed, and the clouds were swept away. Night fell, and she rested her head on Rainbow Dash’s chest and listened to her lover’s slow, sleeping breath, and wind passed over them and they pulled each other closer. And Fluttershy knew the scene and the clearing and the spring would forever be hers.
