The train just arrived at the station of Ponyville, Ponies spilling out to the right. There is nothing special or unexpected about it, this does after ll happen every last day in the village.
When a white Earth type colt slipped off of the train, it isn’t noticed, at first. He is small and easy to miss, just the age of first class in Cherilee’s class. Only this one colt is me. My white coat resembling the colour of a guard. What may be remarkable is my mark, a shield; the two upper curves slightly resembling two crescent moons., there is also a large blue star in the center.
A small filly exited the very same train, at the far back exit. She is a middle gray, her mane darker than her coat. She had a mark as well, there is but the bracket, four corners indicating that it is there, while not showing anything in the middle. The make is signifying the void of being missing or lost. I had never seen her before.
Going to school is natural, it is my place, the job befitting any filly and colt my age. I don’t resent it. For one, I have a place to go and something to do with my time. So long as the teacher is good and teach me all I need to do, I am thrilled. I may have my mark, but aside from that, I am still the age where I need to attend to school.
Cherilee is the teacher in Ponyville. I guess I am lucky. Just as all the fellow foals in the village. I guess I could explain it to any who want to hear, but later. I have a class to attend soon.
Once I arrive at school, there is a building in the middle, the large green park covered with grasses to trot or gallop over. There are several items erected for little foals to enjoy, the sandbox, the swing. I am pretty sure I could enjoy playing here, once the other fillies and colts are here. By the looks of it, I am early for my first class.
There is no foals playing, and the sky is darker than it should during the day. Just that the stars are nowhere to be seen, just as is the moon. Although I could see a few scattered clouds. this gives me the feel of a good day to go to school, to meet new ponies, to learn and to play.
I sit down in one of the swings, feeling it the more comfortable seat, rather than on the stairs up to school. I pick up a small sandwich and slowly chew on it. Once I am done with my sandwich. I take a swing, enjoying it for a moment. Why not just take a swing at it? I am here, even if I am early. They are bound to arrive soon. Even if it may be a day of, in which case a few of the colts and fillies would come here to play. Or, at least I imagine they would.
The sun climbs higher and makes my day lighter and warmer. The Mare known as Cherilee enter the scene. She looks at me.
“Hi, I am Cherilee!” she greeted me warmly with an inviting smile.
“Hi, Cherilee. My name is Guard, I guess I am the new colt in your class!” I responded in a cheerful voice.
“You sure like it bright and early, Gard!” she responded.
“Yeah, I do. I take it you are my new teacher!” I said, matter of fact.
“That would be me. I love my job and most of the fillies and colts love me too!” she explained.
“Good, I expect us to be good friends, well before the semester is over!” I pondered.
“That sounds like a good idea. I may not have quite as many friends as Pinkie Pie, over at the Sugar-Cube Corner, but who can compete with her? Not only does she bake all the sweetest and tastiest pastries, she throws the most fun and exciting parties as well. She even knows the name and face of every last Pony in Ponyville!” she offered.
“There are the crusaders; Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom and Scootaloo!” she exclaimed as the trio entered the scene.
“They sure look like friends!” I responded.
“They are!” she pointed out.
For some reason, I could see the capes, even though they were not wearing them to school. What I couldn’t see is the colours or the exact details, but I can see their capes clearly.
“There is Dinkie Whooves, the daughter of Derpy, the mail mare!” she explained, pointing at a small grey unicorn filly with yellow mane and tail.
“She does look nice. I like the expression on her face!” I put forth, as I saw the optimism on her face.
“She is one of the nicest fillies in my class. I sometimes with the others could be more like her!” she explained.
“There is Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon!” she mentioned as the two Earth type fillies arrived, the first is pink, wearing a tiara on her head, which apparently had become her mark as well, followed by her fray friend with a spoon for a mark.
“I take it, I need to look out for these two?” I responded, pointing my right hoof at the two fillies.
“That would be for the better!” she filled in.
“Who is that? I have never seen her before!” Cherilee exclaimed, just as the little gray filly trotted in towards us from the street.
“She is apparently the new filly in the class!” I responded.
“She does have the most different mark I have ever seen!” she continued.
“I imagine row call will be interesting. She is bound to be on the list!” I suggested.
“It is time to go in, class is about to begin!” she announced with a cheerful smile.
”First of all, I have an announcement to make; we have two new fillies in our class!” Cherilee announced, once all the fillies and colts had taken their places.
At her statement, every head turned this way and that, frantically looking for the two new foals in class, curious to make out who they were. Of course, they were both new to Ponyville.
“Guard, would you please come up here and present yourself?”Cherilee put forth.
Of course that had to be said and get out of the way. I quietly rose to my hooves and moved up to the indicated position, readying myself for the task at hoof.
“Greetings, Class. My name is Guard, I am new here. For now, I am all by myself!” I said, pointing a hoof at the mark on my right flank as I pronounced my name.
“Lost. Your turn!” Cherilee continued.
The little filly known as Lost soon got to her hooves and moved up, taking the place where I had so recently been standing.
“If you as much as giggle at my name, I will make it obvious why I am Guard!” I whispered in a threatening, yet smooth, quiet voice in Silver Spoons ear as I passed her on my way back to my seat.
The look on her face was the just award I was hoping for, as her smile faded and evaporated.
“Greetings, Class. My name is Lost!” she presented herself, making a move with her right hoof, indicating the mark on her flank.
The filly named Lost stood in place for a minute, shyly observing and scanning the small crowd of fillies and colts in the class.
“Lost, you can return to your place in the class now!” Cherilee suggested warmly, and Lost soon took the word and followed her instruction, carefully taking the seat at the desk where she had been seated before.
With the presentations of the new foals of the class had been done and got out of the way; we could finally get the class going. Oh, but why am I so eager? I can as well admit, just waiting for the class is not fun, it is downright boring. Besides, I like the break as much as the next little filly or colt. Only I know I am not fearing going out into the open, some of them just may.
Straight to the point, I don’t fear bullying, I am rather standing tall. I pride myself of being the one who stands up for the once needing it.
My name and mark is not a cruel joke on me as a filly, or my place in life. I had earned my mark well, defending a fellow filly at the time. That may have been the first time, but it certainly is not the last or only time. I have even managed to stand up against a stallion who was trying to squeeze himself a better place in line. He soon backed down as he saw me, even before he saw the mark. Something in my demeanor, I guess, he never said. I saw him taking the last spot in line that day.
As much as I may enjoy and pride myself in standing tall in defence, I don’t brag about it. Doing so would merely pull one too large and aggressive Pony upon me and hurt me in the process. At least it is how I reason. Being right and doing good is what I stand for.
On has to be standing for something; good, bad or indifferent. Yet, so long as you stand for something, we know who you are and will act accordingly towards you. Of course, every Pony makes mistakes on occasion.
The class went smoothly and eventless as could have been expected. I did what I was supposed to, quietly reading the text and doing the exercises that went with them.
I cast wayward glances right and left. Checking up on who was in the class, not that I know their names or who they are, yet.
“Cherilee, the Cherry of the class. She is kind of like a Cherry, the deep purple variety. You place them in the drink or on the icing of your cake!” I pondered, quietly.
Of course, there are the two colts Snips and Snails, the bumbling unicorns, looking like a pair of minions, for all I could see.
I then have the two earth Pony fillies, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon. They clearly make an effort of quietly draw attention towards themselves. I hear their scorn in their voices, making a mental note to be on their flanks as a stamp on an envelope I could stand guard against victimization of whom ever came in their way.
One gray unicorn filly with a light flaxen hair and yellow to red wall eyes came to mind. She is nice and caring, yet fragile. She looks like the friend who may need a helping hoof to keep her chin up and the smile firmly in place.
I guess I couldn’t miss the three blank flanks as well; that fact alone feels like the obvious target, even when they are close knitted friends. I had not figured it out, just yet, they are what they call the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Last in class to have their marks.
Scootaloo, the flightless Pegasus, a clear target if I had ever seen one.
Sweetie Belle, daughter of Rarity of the Carousel Boutique.
Apple Bloom of the Apple clan. She is obviously the last in line of the local Apples. I had heard of the Apples, they are spoken of far and wide. Not because they made much noise or ruckus of themselves, but for their place in any and all communities they are part of. A modest bunch with power far beyond the obvious, once pushed towards a corner enough to do what Apples do.
Apparently, the group had never a leader, they take turns in choosing. Yet, they are close together. Tighter than friends in ways yet to be picked up upon.
From what I could hear, the filly named Twist sounds like a hit, with the voice of hers. She sounds a bit on the funny side. That could be a target for a bully; since I know we did have them here.
I cast a warm glance towards Dinky. Of course I did cast glances towards Twist, Lost and the Crusaders as well. I may not actually know them, but I feel I need to stay close to them. Not so much for myself, but they may come to appreciate the effect of one like me close by. I have an eye for who is in the clear and who is the bully.