Mailmare Ditzy Doo finds an injured stranger near the Everfree Forest. Probably a nice chap, right?
Mailponies, the couriers of Equestria, carry important documents and packages back and forth throughout the land. Known for being kind, steadfast, and reliable, they are bound by a code of conduct detailing how to behave. In this code, an emphasis is placed on camaraderie between fellow mailponies. They are to trust, assist, and cooperate with each other whenever they can.
When mailmare Ditzy Doo finds an injured stallion by the edge of the Everfree Forest, she takes him under her wing. Upon waking, she discovers that he is, in fact, another mailpony, bound by the same creed as her. Through an adherence to the rules and the kindness of her heart, she allows the stallion to stay with her until he recovers. What will life be like for him under the Doo roof? More importantly, will he survive Dinky?
As Ditzy Doo skipped down the rainy streets of Ponyville, she couldn’t help humming happily to herself. She loved this part of town; it was as close to the Everfree Forest as Ponyville got, and it smelled rich and earthy. Tonight, it smelled especially wonderful, as the rain brought forth a wonderful array of loamy scents.
I love the rain, thought Ditzy, smiling through her drenched hair, which had flopped over her eyes, one of which was still rebelliously pointing in an odd direction. She, of course, knew that there would be a storm this evening. None of the weather in Ponyville was a surprise; it was all carefully scheduled and maintained by the pegasi. Ditzy, however, didn’t take part in the weatherworks. She was a mailmare, and quite proud of the fact.
It had been quite a nice day. Ditzy’s boss, a sour old pony who had somehow managed to grow 5-o’clock shadow (a secret he refused to share), must have finally discovered which side of the bed was the right one, and had also been miraculously un-grumpy the entire day. Ditzy’s mailbag had been record-breakingly light, so she had had almost an entire afternoon to do what she pleased. She had been smiling so much she was surprised her face didn’t hurt.
As she passed by a gap in the houses, though, she abruptly halted. It was as if a strange scent had wafted in her direction; she suddenly felt an overwhelming desire to run towards the Everfree Forest and search for something. Ditzy knew what this was.
My mail sense is tingling! she thought as she dashed towards the treeline, entire being focused on the strange task her letter-based psychic powers had provided her. She didn’t know what she was doing, but, whatever it was, it had to be important. Mailpony senses didn’t go off for silly things.
As she neared the threshold where Ponyville ended and the forest began, she started looking around for whatever she had to be searching for. Like any pony, she was reluctant to go into the forest, being taught since she was a foal that it was a dangerous place. However, her sudden impulse seemed to toss her normal fear out the window and brought her to the very edge of the trees.
Looking frantically around, eyes searching two locations at once, she spotted something that stood out among the greens and browns of the muddy forest background. A gray pegasus stallion, coat slightly darker than her own, lay sprawled near one of the trees, a nasty looking gash on his head. Galloping over, she contemplated what to do.
#C8C8C8, Ditzy thought, and then shook her head. Bah, numbers and letters. What should I do? This pony needs a doctor! But the doctor’s office is across town, and I don’t think I can carry him that far. Ditzy shook her head again, this time in frustration.
Think, think, what’s close by? Bakery, fruit stand, hat shop, houses… Ditzy perked up. Houses! My house! I could carry him to my house, and then go get the doctor!
Course of action decided, she flopped the pegasus over her back like a saddlebag and ran as quickly, but also as smoothly, as possible in the general direction of her house.
~~~
Panting, Ditzy finally arrived at her dwelling. It wasn’t a large house, but it wasn’t a small one either. It was fairly pretty and neat looking, maybe something you would see in the background of a postcard. Two story and white walls, it was functional, livable, and quite pleasing to see after a long day at work. Ditzy, however, was not concerned with how nice her house looked at the moment.
The dripping-wet pegasus burst through the door, much to the surprise of her daughter, who had been snoozing on the couch in front of the fireplace.
“Mama!” Dinky cried, delighted to see her mother. The small, blue-gray unicorn jumped off the sofa and trotted over to the doorway. “You’re back! And you’re all we-“ Dinky cut herself off, seeing the stranger draped over her mother’s back. “Who is-“
“Just a minute, Muffin.” Ditzy soothed, laying the unconscious colt on the couch where Dinky had been lying a moment ago. She turned back towards her daughter to find her tilting her head, blonde mane flopped over, and looking at her with a clear question in her big yellow eyes. One eye looking at her, the other still looking in the vague direction of the couch, Ditzy spoke.
“Now Dinky, mommy has to go away for a few more minutes to get someone.” Seeing the sadness in her daughter’s eyes, Ditzy amended “But I have a job for you.” Dinky perked back up. “I need you to watch over this pony, make sure that he doesn’t fall or hurt himself, OK?”
“’Kay!” Dinky answered, the most adorably serious expression on her face. She walked over to the couch and sat down in front of it, watching the comatose pony with much the same intensity that a hawk looks for prey.
“Good girl.” said Ditzy, allowing herself a small smile, and turned back to the door. Taking a deep breath, she galloped back out into the rain. Hey, it’s not like she could get any wetter.
~~~
Ten minutes later, the storm having gotten much worse, Ditzy ran back inside, accompanied by a surprisingly-dry Nurse Redcross. Dinky had dutifully not moved from her position near the couch, but she immediately jumped up when she heard her mother’s hooves on the wooden floor.
“You’re back!” Dinky exclaimed, running over to Ditzy, while Redcross immediately brought her medical supplies over to the unconscious pegasus. Ditzy wrapped her forelimbs around her daughter.
“Good job, Muffin.” Ditzy praised, hugging Dinky. Ditzy held the unicorn at arm’s length and looked at her. Dinky’s mouth opened wide and she yawned hard enough to make a manticore jealous. Ditzy grinned slightly and raised one eyebrow.
“Dinky, are you sleepy?” Ditzy asked. Dinky shook her head tiredly.
“No, mum, I’m fine.” she said. But her body betrayed her and she let loose another loud yawn.
“It’s past your bedtime, Muffin. Go on, off to bed.” Dinky tried to roll her eyes, but only got halfway through before her eyelids drooped and ruined the gesture.
“Fine...” Dinky said with as much world-weariness as she could muster (which wasn’t much). As she dragged her hooves to her room, Ditzy turned back to the nurse, one eye still watching her daughter.
Now that she wasn’t running through the rain, she could get a closer look at the stranger. As she noticed before, his coat was a darker shade of gray than hers. His ragged mane was dark blue, and his tail looked like it would be fairly strait if it wasn’t currently full of twigs and mud. The word "streamlined" came to mind as she took in his general appearance. His cutie mark was a storm cloud on top of two stylized wind gusts, and his wings looked very powerful, used to flying long distances. He would look quite nice after a little grooming, Ditzy thought. Pity he was covered in forest.
While Redcross worked, Ditzy sat down with her back to the fireplace, steam rising off her in columns as she dried off from her mad dashes across rain-soaked Ponyville.
About twenty minutes later, the nurse looked like she had finished. The colt now had a bandage adorning his head and his left forelimb. She walked over to a now-dry Ditzy Doo, and prepared to give a diagnosis.
“Well, Miss Doo, it looks like your friend was caught out in the storm over the Everfree Forest.” Ditzy did her best impersonation of someone rolling their eyes. “He appears to have sustained a head injury, possibly a small concussion, and his forelimb appears to have a slight sprain. All in all, nothing too serious. He is a very lucky pony.” Ditzy breathed a sigh of relief.
“That’s good,” she said. She didn’t know this colt, but it was the general nature of Ponyvilleians to care for those in need.
“One more thing,” Nurse Redcross began, suddenly looking apprehensive. “In this storm, it would be risky to try and move him to the hospital…” Ditzy waved her hoof in the air in a gesture of dismissal.
“Don’t worry about it. He can stay here; it’s no problem.” Redcross visibly relaxed.
“Thanks for that. Anyways, he might be slightly, um…” Redcross looked awkwardly at Ditzy for the second time in as many minutes. “…cross-eyed when he wakes up, but that is normal for head trauma patients. It is also best that he stays off that leg of his for a while. Someone will come over tomorrow morning to check up on him, alright?”
“OK,” Ditzy answered. Nurse Redcross wished her luck and walked out the door, an umbrella popping out of her nurse hat. One of Ditzy’s eyes watched her close the door, and she turned back to the stranger on her couch.
Ditzy decided that it would be best if somepony was there to greet him if he woke up in the night, so she curled up on the rug in the center of the room. The rug was quite soft, and with the fire at her back, her position was quite comfortable. Ditzy’s off-kilter eyes soon closed, and she drifted off into a peaceful slumber
~~~
The next morning, Ditzy was preparing breakfast. Dinky, in the manner of small children, was wide awake at such an early hour. The unicorn was sitting at the kitchen table, rocking back and forth in her special chair, watching her mother stir a pot on the stove.
“What’re we having, mum?” Dinky asked cheerily, if a little impatiently.
Ditzy smiled. “Oatmeal, Muffin.” she replied, apron rustling as she half-turned to her daughter. “It will be done soon.”
“Yay!” Dinky loved oatmeal.
At that moment, a groan arose from the parlour. Both ponies immediately froze, heads turned toward the direction of the noise. When the sound repeated itself a few seconds later, the two immediately dashed off into the other room, breakfast forgotten.
The colt was still lying on the sofa, but his eyes were scrunched up and it looked like he was trying to sit up. Ditzy moved close to the stranger, Dinky close behind and hopping up and down to try and get a better view. The colt eventually managed to roll himself over so that all four legs were beneath him. Hearing the rhythmic thuds of Dinky's bouncing, he blearily turned his head in that direction and opened his eyes. They were the same dark blue as his mane and, as the nurse predicted, pointing in two separate directions.
Blinded by the sudden influx of morning light coming from the window, he immediately squinted. Seeing Ditzy’s vague shape, he tried his best to look at her with his glazed eyes.
“…hello?” he croaked. My, he did sound like he went a round with a boulder and lost.
“Hello. “ Ditzy replied.
“W-where am I?” His stutter attested to his groggy and disoriented state.
“You are in my house, in Ponyville. My name is Ditzy Doo, and this is my daughter Dinky.” Dinky punctuated this with an enthusiastic wave. “Who are you?”
“Ponyville…?” he muttered, then shook his head. The action seemed to clear his mind a bit. “M-my name is Tempest Rider.” He paused. “You have pretty eyes.”
Ditzy flinched slightly. She wasn’t used to people talking about her eyes, much less complimenting them. Redcross’s nervousness mentioning the fact that the then-unconscious Tempest Rider would wake up cross-eyed was testament to the fact that ponies felt uncomfortable talking about her unusual wall-eyed visage. Something which, incidentally, Ditzy didn't understand at all.
“Erm, thank you?” Ditzy ventured.
“...What?”
The mare shook her head. His mind was obviously still muddled. “If you don’t mind, could you tell us why you were unconscious at the edge of the Everfree Forest?”
“F-Forest?” Tempest Rider squinted. “I was... delivering a package...” At this, he reached down to his haunches, as if trying to find something. When his search failed, his head whipped around, eyes wide. “M-my mailbag!”
“Mailbag?”
“Mailbag?” Dinky repeated, “Mama has a mailbag because she’s a mailpony! Are you a mailpony too?”
Tempest didn’t answer, as he was too busy hyperventilating and searching his immediate area for the missing bag. Ditzy understood his panic completely.
One of the first lessons they drilled into you during mailpony training was to never lose your mailbag. It was Rule #1. To lose your bag meant that all the irreplaceable letters inside would be lost, or worse, read by someone other than their intended recipient. As far as other mailponies were concerned, coworkers who lost their mail were the lowest of the low. Some even thought that Princess Luna had been banished to the moon for misplacing Celestia’s personal mail.
So it was completely understandable why Tempest Rider looked like he was contemplating tearing open her couch to try and find the bag.
“Hey, calm down, calm down..” Ditzy soothed. Tempest turned and looked at her.
“No no no nononono.” he babbled, very un-soothed. “I-I have to find my bag, or else, or else...” Tempest Rider’s pupils dilated as his mind struggled to come up with a gruesome enough scenario. Ditzy took this opportunity to put a comforting hoof on his shoulder.
“Don’t worry, I do understand. I’m a mailpony too.” she said, thumping her chest with her free hoof for emphasis. Tempest Rider looked surprised, then hopeful.
“You- you are?”
“I just said that!” Dinky pouted.
“Then, you can help me find my bag!” Tempest tried to get to his hooves, but Ditzy gently, albeit firmly, pushed him back down with the leg she had yet to take off his shoulder.
“Oh, no. You are not going anywhere with that leg, mister.” said Ditzy, adopting the tone she used when Dinky was being stubborn. “Nurse Redheart said you need to stay off that until it heals. I can go find your bag for you; I have a pretty good idea of where it is.”
Tempest Rider looked reluctant to hand over responsibility of his bag over to someone else, even another mailpony, but, sensing this mare wasn’t going to budge, relented. He sat back down on the couch, his crooked eyes still showing worry.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be right back.” Ditzy told him, trying to cheer him up. At that, she turned around and headed towards the door, off to the place where she originally found the comatose Tempest Rider. Before she could begin her journey, though, she was stopped by a certain unicorn filly.
“Mama mama can I come with? I want to help too!” Dinky shouted, bouncing high enough to be eye-level with her mother. She looked so adorably eager that Ditzy almost caved immediately.
“No, Muf-” Ditzy began, but hesitated. She couldn’t take Dinky with her to the Everfree Forest, but she couldn’t just leave her daughter her with a stranger!
An injured stranger, she reminded herself. An injured, concussed, cross-eyed, mailpony stranger. Dinky should be safe.
“No Muffin.” Ditzy finished. Anticipating her disappointment this time, she tactfully added, “I have a more important job for you. Remember what I told you yesterday?"
Dinky paused for thought. “Stop chewing on the chair legs?”
“After that.”
“Um... Oh! Watch over the pony on our couch!”
Ditzy smiled. “Exactly. I need you to that that again, OK?” Enthusiastic nods. “Good.”
The mailmare trotted outside and, as an afterthought, called back over her shoulder, “Remember, he has to stay off that leg!” The last thing she saw before closing the door was one confused looking pegasus and one determined looking unicorn filly looking at each other.
~~~
Tempest Rider had never been more confused in his life. He had woken up in a strange home, with strange ponies, and a strange throbbing headache. And now one of the ponies had left to find his mailbag, leaving her daughter to watch over him. A daughter who was now staring at him in the most unsettling manner he had ever seen.
Tempest decided to try his hoof at conversation. Anything to end the impromptu staring contest he was now in.
“Hello?”
No points for originality there.
“Hi!” Dinky immediately answered, exchanging her surprisingly-menacing stare for a bright smile.
“So... you live here?” Tempest asked, marginally more at ease.
“Uh-huh! With my mama! She’s a mailpony! You’re a mailpony too, right?”
"Yes, I am.”
“Cool!”
With that the conversation seemed to lull. It was considerably better than before, seeing as Dinky was now smiling at him instead of staring, but Tempest still felt uncomfortable. Here he was, sitting in a room with a filly he had never met. Forced proximity to strange young children was always awkward, and now Tempest was aware of the fact that being bandaged and concussed did nothing to make the situation any better. Quite the opposite, in fact. Trying to think of something to talk about, he sniffed.
“Erm, what’s that smell?”
~~~
“C’mon, I know you’re here somewhere.” Ditzy spoke to thin air. She had returned to the site where she originally found Tempest Rider, hoping to find the pegasus’s bag amongst the general forest debris. The mare was currently searching intently, eyes examining two places at once.
Several minutes later, however, she had begun to lose hope. The mailbag refused to reveal itself to her, and it was becoming increasingly aggravating. Ditzy knew that if the mailbag wasn’t here then it was in the Everfree Forest, and she was extremely nervous even being this close to the local terror.
Suddenly, one of Ditzy’s eyes spotted something; a spot of brown amongst a marginally-less brown background. Rushing over to the spot, she found a sturdy pair of saddlebags emblazoned with the symbol of the Equestria Pony Postal Service. Looking closer, she found, in messy mouth-writing, “Property of Tempest Rider” written on the bottom of one of the bags.
If these aren’t his bags, then I’m a tree. she thought. And I am most certainly am not a tree.
~~~
Not five minutes later (hooray for wings!), Ditzy arrived at her house, saddlebags in tow. As soon as she entered the parlour, however, she immediately noticed two problems. One, Tempest Rider was no longer on the couch, and two, she could not see Dinky.
Before Ditzy could contemplate what that meant, though, one of the problems resolved itself. She could see Dinky; the filly was visible through the doorway into the kitchen, sitting on her special chair and smiling at something her mother couldn’t see. Cautiously, Ditzy walked over and set the bags on the table, then proceeded to the kitchen. She was greeted with a rather unexpected sight.
Dinky was still sitting at the kitchen table, but at the oven, standing on his hind legs, was Tempest Rider. The stallion was wearing her apron, looking almost comical. He was stirring a pot of what Ditzy recognized as the oatmeal she had been cooking earlier. With a start, she realized she had never actually turned the stove off.
Hearing her hoofsteps, he turned his head to look at her, revealing his eyes were no longer crossed. The two stared at each other, neither saying a word. Deciding he should break the ice, Tempest opened his mouth first.
“What? The oatmeal was burning.”
At this point, Ditzy was wondering if she had ever had a stranger day.
“Well, he seems to be in pretty good condition.” Nurse Redheart told Ditzy Doo. She had come over to the mailmare’s house, as promised, to check up on Tempest Rider. She was delighted to find that the pegasus had been not only conscious, but coherent. The nurse had just finished questioning and examining the gray pony, and was now telling the curious Ditzy what she found. “He’s not going to be walking on that hoof for a few days, though. The best thing for him right now is rest.”
Ditzy turned away from where Dinky was playing a board game with Tempest, though she kept glancing back with one eye to make sure her daughter wasn’t hurting him. “So he’s going to be all right?”
“Well, a jaunt through a thunderstorm is going to be a bit beyond him for a while, but yes. He will make a full recovery.” Ditzy smiled at that.
“Good. So, how long is he going to have to stay?”
“Oh, he doesn’t have to stay with you, Ditzy. The hospital finds lodging for all-”
Redheart looked confused. “What rule requires you to detain injured strangers?”
“Rule #3.” Ditzy recited. “‘Your co-workers are your family. Treat other mailponies as you would a sibling.’ And I’m not about to let an injured sibling out of my sight.”
As the nurse considered this, Ditzy held her breath. She really hoped Redheart wouldn’t protest, as she really didn’t want to argue with her. Eventually, Redheart spoke.
“Well, this is legally lodging. I suppose he can stay with you until he recovers.” Redheart leaned in close and whispered to her conspiratorially. “Thank you, Ditzy; you just saved me a lot of work.”
Ditzy tried not to look too relieved as Nurse Redheart explain how to care for the injured pony. That had went better than she thought it would. If Redheart had taken Tempest away, then...
Well, nothing would have really happened, but she would have still felt like she failed. Mailponies don’t disobey mailpony Rules. Disobeying the rules shows a lack of trustworthiness and dependability, and a lack of trustworthiness and dependability means a bad mailpony. Ditzy was not a bad mailpony.
“...and make sure he doesn’t over-exert himself. Small flights only. Alright?”
“Alright.” Ditzy answered. With that, Nurse Redheart left the house, and Ditzy turned back to the game-playing ponies.
Tempest Rider was panting heavily, his mane ruffled and several of the playing cards stuck to his face with what looked like peanut butter. Directly across from him, Dinky was wearing a bright red hat and a wide smile, looking as happy as a young filly can be. Ditzy just stared.
Dinky, perhaps sensing that somepony was looking at her, turned to look at her mother. The two stared at each other for a moment, before Ditzy spoke.
“Muffin, what did I tell you about Dinky-rules Monopony?” she asked.
“But mama, nothing caught on fire this time!”
~~~
One bath later, Tempest Rider was now boardgame-butter free. As Ditzy walked downstairs with the stallion, she explained to him how he was going to be staying with her until he recovered.
“That’s... that’’s very kind of you, miss.” Tempest said, trying to express his gratitude. “I’ll be sure to pay you back for this.”
“Call me Ditzy, hon, and don’t you worry about it.“ Ditzy replied. “We’re both mailponies, and the rules, along with basic kindness, say that I should help you. It would go against that kindness to have you pay for it, don’t you think?”
Tempest seemed to mull it over for a moment, and then nodded. “I suppose,” he said, “But I’m still going to compensate you.” seeing that Ditzy was about to argue, Tempest interrupted, “Don’t forget, I’m bound by mailpony rules too. In this case, Rule number four.”
“‘Repay kindness in turn. Mailponies are always polite.’” the mare recited automatically. She then proceeded to frown. “Well, OK. I suppose I would do the same thing.”
“You probably would.” Tempest leaned down to adjust his mailbag, which he had not taken off since Ditzy had returned it. It wasn’t wet, though, so Ditzy assumed he had taken it off to bathe. “In any case, can you tell me where I would find a “Wigg Haarson?” I need to finish this delivery.”
At this point, the two pegasi had walked down into the parlour. Ditzy looked at the stallion like he was crazy. He had been found, unconscious, on the edge of the Everfree Forest not last night. He should be resting, not traipsing across town!
“What? No, you need to lay down and recover. Nurse Redheart prescribed bed rest, and flying across town is not restful.” Ditzy told him.
“But I need to finish the delivery!” Tempest Rider’s sense of duty was clashing with Ditzy’s insistence on healing, and so far the two forces seemed evenly matched.
“Just give the package to me; I’ll deliver it.” the mare tried. Tempest fixed her with an ‘are-you-serious’ stare.
“You know I can’t let you do that.” he replied.
Ditzy bit her lip. He was right. No self-respecting mailpony would give up their mail, even to another mailpony. She had to try something else.
“Redheart said you need to stay off your leg for a few while. You should listen to her; she’s a nurse.”
“Then I won’t walk.” he countered, flaring his wings impressively. “These babies aren't just for show.”
Ditzy felt herself losing ground.
“You’re still hurt. You need to recover your energy, not fly across Ponyville.”
The stallion felt himself winning, and looked a little smug. “I am a distance deliverypony. I specialize in long-distance package delivery. A little jaunt across town isn’t going to tire me out. I’ll be fine.”
Ditzy decided to concede defeat. “Fine,” she grudgingly admitted, “You win. But I’m coming with you.”
Tempest Rider smiled brightly and turned towards the door. “Fair enough. Let’s get going; I’d rather not have this package be late than it already is.”
Halfway through walking out the door, he turned back. “Erm, where does he live again?”
~~~
The walk to Wigg Haarson’s house was uneventful, but relaxing. Tempest kept to the air, and off his hoof, while Ditzy led him on. She tried to keep a relatively slow pace, for she was still worried that the stallion would overexert himself.
The pony in question, unsurprisingly, was a wig-maker. Why a small town such as Ponyville needed a wig-maker was as-of-yet not known, but as he had been operating for years, it was assumed he made enough money to get by. To Ditzy’s knowledge, no one in town had ever actually bought a wig, so she thought that he shipped out his wigs to rich and stuffy aristocratic types who could afford to pay hundreds of bits for fake manes. Local fashionista Rarity did the same thing, after all, and she was well off.
The pegasi arrived at the shop in question in short order. The large, classical style store had vines growing down from it’s balconies like long tresses of green hair, and it’s shop window displayed wigs of such ridiculous proportions that they looked ready to fall over like so many powdery dominoes. The sign that hung above the door showed a picture of a pony’s head with long, flowing hair beneath flowery text that read “Wigg’s Wonderful Wig Workshop.” Tempest Rider, however, didn’t seem to be taking in the architecture; instead he was looking through the window to see if anyone was home.
“I suppose it would be redundant to ask if this was the place.” he said, face pressed up against the glass.
Instead of answering, Ditzy walked up to the door and knocked three times. Hearing this, Tempest flew over to the doorstep and touched down, gingerly keeping his injured hoof off of the ground. They didn’t have to wait long before the door was opened by a curious looking unicorn.
His coat was dusty tan and his eyes were jade green, and, despite his fairly young age, his mane was bone white. Or, at least, that’s what it appeared at first glance. Upon further inspection, he was wearing one of his own wigs, powdered so liberally that every turn of his head elicited a small sprinkling of white dust. He looked at the strangers on his doorstep with mild curiosity.
“Hello,” he began, voice loud and slightly nasally. “may I help you?”
Tempest Rider quickly slipped into a professional tone. “Yes, I am here to deliver a package to a Mr. Wigg Haarson.”
“Why, that would happen to be me.” he said, and then grinned so wide his face looked like it was about to split. “Oh! I bet it’s my new scissor set! I’ve been waiting for these for weeks!”
Tempest reached into his mailbag and took out a small brown box in pristine condition. He then held it out towards the now-excited unicorn, who eagerly grasped it with his magic.
“Sorry about the delay, Mr. Haarson. There was a bit of an accident in transport.”
Wigg looked back up and seemed to notice for the first time the bandages that adorned Tempest’s head and hoof. His eyes went wide as he realized the true meaning of the professionally-detached explanation that the pegasus gave.
“My word,” he nearly shouted, “Were you hurt delivering my package!? What woeful happenstance! What wretched luck! I am terribly sorry about that! Please, allow me to compensate you! How guilty I feel!” The long-winded pony then turned around and started rummaging around in his shop.
“Sir, it’s quite alright. You don’t need to pay me.” Tempest Rider said, looking slightly nervous.
“Nonsense!” he yelled, head behind the counter. “‘Always pay the courier’ is what my wonderful uncle wanted me to learn, and since you were injured in the delivery of my wondrous new tool set, it is doubly true! Besides, you wouldn’t have been wounded if it wasn’t for my wanton desires! Now, where did I put those spare bits?”
Tempest and Ditzy, who had been watching the situation unfold with some amusement, sat there for an awkward minute before Wigg walked up carrying a small cloth bag with his magic. The unicorn dropped the bundle onto Tempest’s back, the stallion looking surprised at the weight.
“There!” the wig-maker almost yelled. “That should cover any damages and bills related to your little accident. Now, go on, and remember, wander over to Wigg’s Wig Workshop when you want wonderful hairpieces!”
As the shop owner shut the door, Tempest just stood there looking shocked and slightly confused. Slowly, he turned towards Dizty, who was struggling not to laugh while one eye looked at him and the other still stared at the door.
“Did he really just pay me for being injured?”
Ditzy was never very good at restraining laughter.
~~~
On the way back, the two ponies chatted. This was the first time they had actually done so since Tempest “arrived,” so it was mostly Ditzy asking the stallion questions about himself.
Tempest hailed from Hayton, a large city some hours of flight away. He specialized in long-distance package delivery, as he had mentioned before. He had taken the Ponyville job because, funnily enough, he thought it would be a quick, easy few bits (distance jobs were paid per delivery). It seemed fate had decided to buck him in the gut with that freak storm.
“By the way, I never got to properly thank you for saving me.” he told Ditzy, having finished his story. “Not to mention finding my mailbag.”
The mare chuckled. “You’re welcome. You are very lucky I managed to find you when I did.”
“Speaking of which, how did you find me?” Tempest asked, head tilting slightly as he flew along side her.
“Mailpony sense.”
“Ah.” One does not question the wayward instincts of postal service workers.
There was another lull in the conversation. Ditzy was still going slow for Tempest’s sake. The stallion either didn’t notice or didn’t mind. Most likely the former.
“How did you manage to get caught in that storm, anyways?” Ditzy questioned, “I know the weather over the Everfree can be unpredictable, but shouldn’t you have seen the clouds before you hit them?”
“Oh, I was aiming for the storm.”
Ditzy screeched to a halt as well as she could in midair, and whipped around to look at Tempest. The stallion managed to pull a quick stop to avoid crashing into the mare’s hindquarters. She looked at him with shock and eyes intent on staring at each other.
“You what?” she nearly yelled.
“I aimed for the storm.” he unflinchingly repeated. “Flying through storms is my special talent. See?” he turned toward the side to show her his flank. More specifically, the storm cloud and wind gusts emblazoned on his flank. Ditzy was still skeptical
“If rough weather flying is your special talent, then why were you hurt?” she asked, sounding suspicious.
Tempest frowned. “Bad luck, I guess. I’m pretty sure I got beaned by the one hailstone in the whole storm system. Normally that sort of thing doesn’t happen.” Ditzy silently contemplated the argument, eyebrows furrowing and eyes swiveling.
“I suppose that’s as good of a reason somepony could give.” Ditzy admitted with a slight sigh. She resumed flying, a mildly disgruntled Tempest Rider following.
“Well, what’s your talent, then?” the stallion asked, sounding as if his pride had been hurt.
“Delivering things.”
Tempest raised an eyebrow. “How do-” he glanced at her flanks. “Bubbles relate to delivering things?”
“Well,” the mare began, smiling slightly. “What do bubbles do?” She had obviously explained this before.
“...Pop?”
“Only the bad ones.” she clarified, “The good ones don’t let anything that’s inside out, or anything outside in. I never lose a letter, or a message, or a package. I’m the most reliable mailpony in town.”
Tempest once again raised an eyebrow at the now grinning mare. “That’s some heavy symbolism there. You sure you aren’t extremely talented at popping bubble wrap?”
Ditzy responded by trying to roll at least one of her eyes. As she did so, one of her off-center ocular orbs found itself pointing skywards. She looked at the position of the sun, and gasped.
“Oh! It’s almost time to pick Dinky up from school!” she exclaimed, and looked over her shoulder at Tempest. “Do you mind if we make a stop? The school is on our way anyways.”
The gray stallion shrugged. “Sure. It’s been nice being able to fly again. Let’s go!” he punctuated the last sentence with a cry, and took off ahead of Ditzy. She watched him rocket forward for a few seconds before stopping and flying awkwardly back.
“That’s the second time I’ve done that today.” he grumbled, “I need a map.”
Dinky, as usual, was vibrating with energy. Nothing particularly exciting had happened at school today, but Dinky was brimming with an eagerness she couldn’t and didn’t even try to explain. She was bouncing down the cobblestone path that lead to and from the school, heading towards the spot where her mom picks her up. Lost in the flood of students as they all rushed home, no one noticed that Dinky looked particularly chipper today.
Dimly hearing Cherilee call out to the horde to remember their homework, she continued on to the lamp post where she would meet her mother, doing a fairly good impression of Ponyville’s Party Pony. As she neared her destination, though, she was greeted by the sight of another pegasus standing next to her mother. Dinky was momentarily confused before she saw the bandages on his head and leg, and recognized him as the pony that her mother had found yesterday. At that, Dinky’s grin grew even wider. She liked the strange stallion; he was really good at Monopony. Most ponies fainted after a few minutes with her rules!
“Hi, Mama! Hi Mr. Other Mailpony!” she called as she bounded over. She skidded to a halt in front of the pair. Ditzy smiled at her warmly, while Tempest wore an amused grin at the name she had given him.
“Hello, Muffin.” Ditzy said, greeting her daughter with a nuzzle and causing Dinky to giggle. “How was school?”
“Well, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon were making fun of Applebloom again. But when Diamond tried to walk away, she tripped and fell in a bush! Miss Cherilee had to send her home because she was crying about the burrs in her hair!” Somehow the filly’s smile got even wider. “And we learned about rocks!”
Ditzy laughed at that. “Very nice, Dinky. Are you ready to go home?” she asked.
“Uh-huh!”
“Well, hop on then.” the mare told her, before turning around.
As Dinky clambered onto her back, Tempest Rider looked at Ditzy with an expression somewhere between astonishment and confusion. While it was completely normal for pegasus foals to cling to their mother’s backs before they could fly, Tempest didn’t think Ditzy would be doing it with her unicorn daughter. Ditzy noticed his expression, and walked towards him
“Don’t worry, we’ve done this before.” the mare whispered as she passed. With a flap of her wings, she was in the air, daughter squealing in delight on her back. Worries not entirely assuaged, Tempest flew after them, staying close behind to catch Dinky if she fell.
~~~
A short while later, Tempest’s precautions proved unnecessary. Dinky was riding on her mother’s back like a champion. Her forehooves were in the air, and her mane and lips flapped in the wind. She was obviously having a blast.
Giggling, Dinky looked around at the skyline. She always relished a chance to fly with her mom. Even though she was a unicorn, she still had pegasus blood in her, and with that came a love of flight. Given that she had no wings of her own, this was the only way for her to scratch that particular itch.
Shaking her head and closing her mouth, Dinky turned her gaze groundward. As she watched the ponies below milling about like ants, she spotted a particularly large group resting in a large grassy field. It looked like the gathering consisted mainly of families and their young, who were frolicking about and playing in various brightly-colored pieces of playground equipment. Dinky recognized this place.
“Mom!” she shouted over the wind, “Can we go to the park?”
Ditzy thought about it as she flew. Since flying around and being distracted are generally not good combinations, she reached a conclusion quickly. “Maybe tomorrow, Muffin.” she replied, “We’re busy today.”
“Promise?”
The mare smiled. “Promise.”
“Busy doing what?” Tempest Rider asked, flying up alongside the pair. Apparently he was convinced that Dinky was safe on her mother’s back and not about to plummet onto some poor pony’s head.
“Well, we are going to go the the market later.” Ditzy told him, raising an eyebrow, “You, on the other hand, are going to be resting. Like you should have been doing.”
“Aw, come on.”
No; you’re lucky I let you deliver that package in the first place.”
Wearing an expression Ditzy would expect to see on Dinky, Tempest looked like he was about to argue. Ditzy responded by increasing her speed. The stallion huffed, and attempted to catch up.
~~~
By the time the three were beside each other again, Ditzy and Dinky were standing at their front door. Slightly out of breath, Tempest touched down next to them.
Alright, maybe I do need rest. he thought.
Almost as if Ditzy could read his mind, she turned around and looked at his tired form with an ‘I told you so’ look. Sticking his tongue out, Tempest gave her a ‘Shut up’ look.
As they walking inside, Dinky hopped off of her mother’s back. He mane was wind-ruffled and dirty from the flight home. Ditzy noticed this and told her to go clean herself up.
“A’kay,” the filly replied, “But then we get to go shopping, right?”
“Right, Muffin.”
As Dinky skipped off to the bathroom, Ditzy turned back to Tempest, one eye on him and the other taking a strong interest in the empty fireplace.
“So,” she asked, looking for a conversation topic, “How much did that strange wig-maker give you anyways?”
“Oh yeah!” the stallion said, “I forgot about that. Hold on.” Taking off his bags and setting them on the ground, Tempest began to rifle through them. Since the small cloth purse was the only thing in them, however, rifling didn’t take too long. “Found it!”
Ditzy watched as he dropped the little bag on the table, and raised her eyebrows at the solid thwack it made. As Tempest undid the neat little bow at the top, the mare decided that her suspicions were correct, and that Wigg Haarson did in fact sell outside of Ponyville. There was no way he could afford to give away that much if his only business was from Nightmare Night costumes and the deep pockets of colts who had too much to drink and a high opinion of their own humor.
Bag open, Tempest Rider looked down into his strangely-gotten earnings. His eyes widened, and Ditzy craned her neck to try and see. Slowly looking back up, he turned to Ditzy, who quickly tried to look casual.
“Back on the topic of rent,” the stallion slowly said, “Does twenty bits a day sound fair?”
It was very fair. “Fifteen.” Ditzy haggled.
“Twenty it is.” Tempest said, as he fished the correct change out of the bag. Coins in mouth, he flipped them both onto his head, and extended his neck towards the hesitant mare.
“That’s a little much.” she muttered, looking unwilling to take the injured stallion’s money.
“Hey,” he said, straightening up, “You rescued me, a stranger who you found on the edge of a notoriously dangerous forest. Not only that, but you’re letting me stay in your house while I recover. That’s probably the biggest act of kindness and generosity I’ve ever seen. I owe you a lot; you saved my life. At least let me pay the rent.” His serious tone was only slightly marred by the coins still sitting on his muzzle like two patches of bronze mud.
Ditzy allowed herself a small smile. “Alright, you win.” she conceded, sticking her hoof out, “Twenty bits it is.” Smiling at his victory, Tempest took her hoof and gave it a good shake. “You better hide that bag, though. Knowing my daughter, if Dinky finds it, she may very well eat it.”
At that moment, Dinky skipped back out into the parlour. Her mane was now clean and her face was free of the grime of school and flight. Seeing her mother, the unicorn filly hopped up beside her.
“All ready, Mama!” she said eagerly, “Can we go now?”
Grinning at her daughter’s impeccable timing, Ditzy looked down at her. “In a minute, Dinky.” she told her, before looking back up at the stallion. “Now Tempest, there’s food in the fridge if you get hungry. Don’t drink the milk; it’s past it’s expiration date. And remember, you are supposed to be resting, so try and rest.”
Tempest rolled his eyes at her. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry; I’ll be sure not to fight any manticores while you go to the grocer’s. Have fun.”
“Oh, wait!” Dinky cried, before dashing back down the hall. One worrying assortment of noises later, she emerged with a brightly colored cube held in her magic. “Got it!” she said, and promptly handed it to Tempest.
“Erm, thank you.” he said as he took the strange object. It was covered in stickers, apparently arranged randomly in a three-by-three grid across its six sides. Prodding at it with his hoof, Tempest was surprised to see one row rotate. “What is it?”
“It’s a Konik’s cube!” Dinky told him, beaming, “You try to get all the same colors on one side. I thought you would get bored sitting here, so I brought it out.”
“Dinky! That was very kind of you!” Ditzy said to her daughter, proudly nuzzling her on the head.
Smiling, Dinky looked back at Tempest, who was already giving the cube a few experimental twists. Slowly, her wide grin was replaced by a perplexed head tilt. Noticing the little unicorn staring at him, Tempest stopped fiddling with the toy and looked back. Deciding that she must be staring at something on his face, he crossed his eyes. Seeing the circular specks on his muzzle, he realized he had never taken the bits off his face.
“Mr. Tempest,” Dinky asked, “Why do you have money on your face?” Suddenly, her eyes widened. “Is it the kind that has chocolate in it?” Tempest Rider could almost see her salivating at the thought.
“No, Dinky, it isn’t.” Ditzy hastily interrupted. “Now come on, we need to get going.”
“‘Kay.”
Mother and daughter headed out the door. As Ditzy closed the door, her last glimpse inside was of Tempest Rider contemplating the cube, twisting it slowly and deliberately.
~~~
Sun setting behind them, Ditzy and Dinky Doo returned home. Ditzy was carrying some saddlebags on her back, overfilled with the various foodstuffs that she had bought at the market, the bags that wouldn’t fit in being carried on her wings. Dinky, on the other hoof, was levitating a chocolate bar in front of her, some of it in her mouth and more of it smeared across her face. Her mother had bought her the candy as a reward for being so thoughtful towards Tempest Rider, and Dinky was having a delightful time with it.
Approaching the door, Ditzy contemplated how to open it. Her wings were full, and she felt that if she tried to open it with her hooves, she would tip over from the weight of the stuff in her saddlebags. She didn’t want to open it with her mouth either; licking doorknobs is gross. Oh well, this is why she had a daughter.
“Dinky, can you open the door for me, please?” she asked her chocolate-covered child.
Dinky swallowed, nodded, and set her chocolate bar on her head, making her mane even more candy-coated. A faint glow surrounded the doorknob, which then twisted and swung inwards. Waltzing inside, Dinky took her candy bar from her head and continued munching, face now looking more candy than filly.
As Ditzy walked in behind her daughter, she was greeted by the sight of Tempest Rider still sitting on the couch. No longer was he slowly and contemplatively turning the cube; the colors blurred as he twisted and rotated in a frenzy, face wearing an expression that suggested the toy had just insulted his mother.
“Hello?” Ditzy asked, concerned.
Pausing in his hurricane-like attempts to solve the puzzle, Tempest jumped and looked up. “Oh, hi.” he replied, “That was a short trip. How’d it go?”
Ignoring his question, Ditzy said, “We’ve been gone for a few hours.”
Tempest looked surprised at this. “What? No way. It’s only been...” He glanced at the clock, and jumped when he noticed the position of the hands. Suddenly, his frustration returned twofold.
“Aaaargh!” he shouted, “By the stars, this thing is impossible to solve!”
Dinky chose that moment to walk back into the room, candy bar gone but candy face still present.
“I can solve it.” she cheerfully quipped.
Tempest was dubious, and slightly insulted. “Really?” he asked doubtfully, “Well, prove it.” Holding out his hoof, he waited for the filly to take the toy.
Accepting the challenge, Dinky took the puzzle in her magic and levitated it over to her face. The unicorn carefully scrutinized the cube, tongue poking out the side of her mouth as she rotated it, studying all the sides. After twenty seconds of close examination, she suddenly started twisting the cube in a whirlwind, colors fading into a uniform gray blob with the speed. Another twenty seconds of furious clacking later, she stopped. The sides of the box were now all the same color, and Dinky was grinning so widely that any normal pony would have strained a facial muscle.
“Done!” she exclaimed, setting the cube down on the table and walking back out of the room, off to do whatever little Dinkys do.
Tempest Rider was stunned. It had been hours since he had started trying to solve that thing, and now that little filly had solved it completely in under a minute. Wide-eyed, he stopped staring at the freshly-solved puzzle and looked up at Ditzy, who was trying, and failing, to stifle a laugh and a smile.
“H-How did she do that?” he asked. Recalling the incident in slightly better detail, he added, “And why was she covered in chocolate?”
“Dinky’s a special one.” she replied, chuckling, simultaneously answering both questions. “I’m not sure even I understand her, and I’m her mother.”
Ditzy gave Tempest Rider another minute to brood. Tempest opted to spend that minute looking shamefacedly at the cube he had failed to solve. Glancing at the clock herself, she noticed the late hour. Trotting over to where he sat, Ditzy put a hoof around his shoulder.
“Come on, mopey.” she said, thumping him on the back, “It’s almost time to turn in. I’ll show you to the guest room.” Silently, Tempest followed, feeling his wounded pride hurt more than his bandaged legs.
The space in the guest room was primarily taken up by the bed in the center of the room. There was also a chest of simple, but functional drawers and a mirror for the resident’s viewing pleasure. The light curtains on the single window were pulled back, letting the moonlight shine in. Two candles flanked the inside of the doorway, of which only one was lit, and a lamp rested on a small table next to the bed, currently turned off. Sparsely decorated, the room had few personal touches. The scent of clean non-use permeated the room, testament to the fact that this room was rarely occupied.
Feeling exhausted from his strange day, Tempest yawned and flopped down on the bed, burying his face in the pillows.
“G’night.” Tempest mumbled into to spread, content to lie on top of the covers for the time being.
“Good night.” Ditzy replied, blowing out the candle near the doorway.
“Thanks again for letting me stay; you’re really nice.”
Ditzy smiled at the compliment. “No problem. It’s been fun having you here.”
Just before she closed the door, Ditzy remembered something. “By the way, I have the day off tomorrow, so me and Dinky are going to the park.”
“I’ll come,” Tempest replied, twisting his head so he could look at her with one eye, “As long as there aren’t any squares.”
As Celestia’s sun rose, houses all across Ponyville found themselves slowly filling with light. Patches of warm sun crept across the inside of various dwellings, sequentially lighting different bits of interior flooring as the sun continued its path across the morning sky. One of these splotches happened to be crawling across the bedroom of a certain mailmare, who was enjoying the fact that today was a day where she could sleep in. Disdainful of this fact, the spot of light coming through her window continued moving, eventually alighting on her face.
Grumbling, Ditzy Doo closed her eyes tighter, attempting to block out the soft orange glow that filtered through her eyelids. When that failed to block out the spots, she tried covering her face with her hooves. To no avail, it turned out, as she realized she was already awake. Ditzy sighed, and resigned herself to the fact that it was time to get up.
Grudging determination gained, she opened her eyes, only to immediately squint them when the sun metaphorically slapped her in the face with light. After rubbing her eyes to clear the colorful specks, Ditzy tried to open them again. When she managed this, she nearly had a heart attack as she saw what was sitting in front of her.
Dinky, blond mane turned shining golden in the sun, was right in front of her face. Since Ditzy was lying down, her daughter’s eyes were level with her own, which did nothing to alleviate the sheer creepiness of the situation. Below the happy, staring eyes was a smile so large that it dwarfed the rest of her face. The unicorn filly was not doing anything. No sound, no movement, just sitting there. Staring.
After Ditzy recovered from her silent heart attack, she softly spoke.
“Dinky, what are you doing?”
The filly’s smile didn’t falter. “Waiting for you to get up.”
Ditzy blinked. “H-how long have you been there?” she asked.
Dinky looked at her wrist. While her mother was trying to figure out what she was trying to do, Dinky replied, “A while.”
The pegasus contemplated this for a moment, and then sat up and kicked off the covers. “Don’t do that, Muffin,” she said, “It’s creepy.”
“‘Kay,” the small unicorn replied, using her magic to make the bed. Ditzy grunted her thanks as stretched at the foot of the bed, wings flaring and back arched. “Mistah Tempest is making breakfast downstairs. He told me to tell you to come down whenever you’re ready.”
Ditzy lowered her wings and turned to face her daughter, smiling. “That’s kind of him.” she said, one eye looking at Dinky and the other admiring herself in the mirror. “You want to go eat?”
“Uh-huh!”
“Well then, hop on,” Ditzy told her, turning around again. Dinky giggled and jumped onto her mother’s back. The pegasus smiled again and began to walk downstairs, a delicious smell wafting up from the kitchen.
The pair came into the kitchen just as Tempest Rider was setting the third plate down on the table. Looking up at them, he grinned.
“Morning,” he greeted as Dinky jumped from her mother’s back to her special chair. Raising an eyebrow at this display of agility, he looked at Ditzy. “Sleep well?”
“Very,” she replied, sitting down. “Work is nice, but so are days off.”
Tempest nodded in agreement, and pulled up a chair for himself. He began eating, and Ditzy looked down at her plate. Her head tilted to the side as she realized she didn’t know what this was. It looked like an omelette, but different somehow. There appeared to be chunks of something in it, along with bits of something green.
Trying not to be impolite, Ditzy asked, “What is it?”
“Good!” Dinky replied, already eating with gusto, a bit of egg handing off her horn.
Smirking at the complement to his cooking, Tempest looked at Ditzy. “It’s something I learned to make when I realized that I lived alone and couldn’t cook. I call it an Amalagamlette. You pretty much look in the fridge and put whatever you think would taste good together in an omelette.” Nodding towards his plate, he added, “This one has potatoes, cheese, and spinach. I have to say, I like the combination.”
As Tempest went back to eating, Ditzy looked at her plate, shrugged, and took a big bite. It was delicious. She would have to remember the recipe.
After everyone had finished eating and was sitting contentedly at the table, Dinky looked at her mother.
“So we’re going to the park today, right Mama?” she asked, obviously excited.
“Right, Muffin.”
Dinky was bouncing in her seat with excitement. “When do we get to go?”
Glancing at the clock on the wall, the mare replied, “Well, we could probably go...” she stopped as one of her eyes looked back at Dinky. “...After you go wipe breakfast off your face.”
Dinky was most certainly a mess. There was a piece of spinach above her eye and the bit of egg on her horn was still dangling there like a misplaced yellow earring. Her face was covered in melted cheese and chunks of potato were stuck to her cheeks.
Before Ditzy could discern any more details about the pseudo-omelette that was her daughter, Dinky dashed off, probably intending to clean up as quickly as possible so she could get to the park sooner. Chuckling, the mare turned back towards Tempest, where she was greeted with a similar sight.
It seemed that Dinky and Tempest Rider subscribed to the same school of table manners. Coagulating cheese was smeared across his face like mud at a spa, and spinach studded his face, making it look like he had some horrible flesh-eating disease. Feeling someone looking at him, the stallion turned towards Ditzy and looked back.
“What?” he asked.
Ditzy bit her lip, trying not to laugh. “...You go clean up too.”
~~~
After the two were satisfactorily mess-free, Ditzy led them to the park. Located near the center of town, the park was a quaint green field nestled in the otherwise urban area. Currently, it was filled with a multitude of ponies simply out enjoying the sunshine. Foals were playing on the brightly-colored playsets, while parents and other adults were lounging on the park benches, chatting airily with each other or simply enjoying the nice weather.
As soon as Ditzy touched down, Dinky leaped off her back and dashed over to play with the other young ones. Watching her daughter run off, Ditzy turned to Tempest Rider, one eye still watching to make sure the filly didn’t break the sound barrier.
“So, what do you want to do?” she asked.
Looking around, Tempest searched for something that caught his eye. Honestly, he kind of wanted to play on the slides. Figuring that would be more than a little creepy and not exactly good for his injured wing, he opted for a bench instead. Finding an unoccupied one sitting nicely in the shade of a large tree, he pointed his hoof towards it.
“How about sit?” he said.
Ditzy nodded. “Sounds nice,” she replied, heading off in the direction of the appointed bench. “It’s perfect lounging weather today.”
It really is, thought Tempest, gliding after the mare. It was warm, but not hot. A pleasant breeze blew through the town just enough to take the edge off of the heat. It wasn’t quite summer yet, so Ponyville was spared the oppressive humidity of the mid-year months in favor of the light springtime air.
Touching down on the bench, Tempest settled next to Ditzy. The latter sighed contentedly and leaned back farther, half-closing her eyes. Watching the hazy pattern of dappled light filtering through the leaves, she relaxed and simply enjoyed her day off, dozing.
Not two minutes later, she felt Tempest prodding her side. She half-heartedly opened one eye, focusing on him with mild annoyance.
“Erm, Ditzy,” he began, sounding slightly nervous and pointing with a hoof, “Is Dinky supposed to be doing that?”
Directing her singular optical orb toward the playground, she saw her daughter on the roof of one of the tall plastic huts, blowing raspberries at one of the colts. She smiled at this, finding the sight amusing.
“Don’t worry about her,” she assuaged as Dinky leapt from the roof to one of the small catwalks, “Dinky’s the most sure-footed thing I’ve ever seen. I’d think her father was part mountain goat if I didn’t know any better.”
“Speaking of which, who is her father?” Tempest asked, before hastily adding, “I-I mean if it’s not a bad subject or anything.”
“Not at all,” Ditzy replied, adjusting her position, “I don’t mind.” She gave him a moment to sigh in relief, and then resumed speaking.
“Not long after finishing Mailpony College, a new pony came to town. He was a traveling magician, and he came to Ponyville for a show and to spread his reputation.” Ditzy smiled at the memory. “He was so delightfully charming. And talented, too! He made fireworks and breathed fire and told the most fascinating stories! Everypony loved his performance, and Pinkie Pie, our resident Party Pony, threw a special post-show party for him. At the party, we started talking and, *cough* , drinking a little. I ended up inviting him to my house and...” At this point, Ditzy shifted and looked embarrassed.
“Well, anyways, when we woke up the next morning, we were both felt very awkward. That afternoon, he packed up his caravan and we said our strange little goodbyes. I haven’t seen him since.” The mare looked happy as she went through her old memories. “Several months later, Dinky was born. Personally, I think she looks more like me.”
“Wow,” Tempest said, “Sounds like life threw you a curve-ball.”
“Maybe,” Ditzy replied thoughtfully, “But I don’t see it like that. I feel more like Celestia gave me a little gift. I’d always wanted a foal, and now I had one. If I had the chance to change the outcome, I don’t think I would. Dinky is a wonderful daughter.”
Almost as if she could tell the two adults were discussing her, Dinky looked up from the tower she had been building out of woodchips. Glancing over her shoulder, she ran towards the park bench where the pair was sitting. Approaching her mother, she launched herself at the pegasus and wrapped her arms around her middle. Ditzy looked surprised for a moment, but then smiled and returned the hug.
After Dinky untangled herself from her mother, she turned towards Tempest. She looked at him for a moment, and then gave him the same treatment. Unsure of how to respond, Tempest tussled her mane a bit and awkwardly hugged back.
Surprise affection attack over, Dinky turned and sprinted back to her woodchip tower, off to defend it from any would-be besiegers.
Ditzy’s smile hadn’t left her face. “...Even if she is disturbingly clairvoyant.”
Tempest felt a grin of his own forming. “That was sweet,” he said. “And unexpected.”
The two lapsed into comfortable silence. Ditzy was watching her daughter play with the other foals, and Tempest watched the clouds roll lazily past.
Sitting up, Tempest decided to renew the conversation.
“As long as we’re discussing things I’m feeling awkward asking you about, what’s with your eyes? Were you born like that, or..” he asked, trailing off towards the end.
Smiling mischievously, Ditzy skillfully swiveled her eyes in opposite directions. “Actually, there’s a pretty good story behind how I got these babies. You see, it all started many years ago when I was a member of the Equestrian Secret Royal Air-force...”
~~~
“Hey!” the small orange colt shouted, “That’s cheating, Dinky! Get down!”
Dinky grinned down at the ground-bound earth pony. “Is not!” she yelled back, “You never said I couldn’t go on the roof!”
The colt stomped his hoof and glared up at the filly on top of the playset. She had climbed up to where he couldn’t get to, and it was frustrating him to no end. He’d be “it” for forever at this rate.
“How am I supposed to tag you if I can’t reach you?” he hollered.
“I dunno,” she giggled, hanging her head over the edge. “Figure something out, Almond!”
Almond slammed his nut-studded rump down on the ground, furiously trying to think of a way to get to Dinky. Finding his hooves devoid of answers, he instead started staring about at the other ponies he saw playing. His eyes scanned the various children, before alighting on something that gave him an idea. Smirking evilly, he jumped up and started running off toward what he saw.
From her vantage point, Dinky could only watch as Almond dashed out of sight. Unable to follow his progress, the filly instead started trying to guess what he was going to try. Before her psychic powers could activate, however, Almond came back into view, this time dragging another colt. A pegasus.
“Oh no,” she breathed as Almond whispered in the new-arrival's, Cirrus, ear, pointing in her direction. The pair nodded, and Almond slapped the white pegasus’s hoof. The colt rose into the air and aimed himself in her direction. Then he took off like a rocket.
“Eep!” Dinky shrieked delightedly as the white streak barreled towards her. Leaping off the roof, she landed on an adjacent railing just as the Cirrus whizzed by like a furry lightning bolt. Tracking his progress with her eyes, she watched as he pulled a wide turn and started heading her way again. She wisely decided to jump off the railing and onto a nearby slide, before hopping down onto the ground. As soon as her hooves hit the earth, the pegasus shot past her head and landed, hooves gouging trenches in the woodchips as he slid. Dinky didn’t see the impressive 180 he managed to pull by the end of his skid, as she was already sprinting in the other direction.
The unicorn panted as she hauled tail away from her adversary. The only thought in her mind was to put as much distance between her and “it” as possible. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that Cirrus was gaining on her, now on foot since they were under the playsets. Turning back to the direction she was running, she was just in time to see Almond leap in front of her path.
“Gotcha!” he cried triumphantly, rearing onto his back hooves to grab her. His satisfied smirk turned into a shocked expression as Dinky charged into him headlong. Similarly unable to stop, Cirrus barreled into the two, sending them tumbling in a ball of bodies and limbs.
When the three finally came to a rest, Almond was belly-down in the dirt with Dinky on top of him, while Cirrus was sprawled against them, tail trapped on the bottom. After shaking his head to clear the stars, the pegasus was the first to speak.
“So, um, who’s it now?” he asked. Dinky responded by giggling, which Almond soon joined in on. Soon, the jumbled heap of ponies was turned into a laughing jumbled heap of ponies.
Almond was the first to recover. “He he, hoo...” he finished, wiping his eye. “That was fun. Anyways, can you get off me, Dinky? You’re kinda heavy.”
Dinky rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Hmm...” she pondered, “Nah. You can stay there.”
“Hey!” he protested, as Dinky and Cirrus dissolved back into giggles. Pouting, he crossed his arms as he waited for them to let him up.
~~~
“...and after I channeled the entire lightning storm into the serpent’s exposed brain, he finally died. Unfortunately, all that electricity messed up my mind. Specifically, the part that controls my eyes. I’ve been like this ever since.” Ditzy finished, rubbing an eye for emphasis.
Tempest Rider raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Uh-huh,” he said, doubtfully. “So that’s how it happened?”
“Yep.”
“Really?”
“No, of course not,” she said, jokingly looking at him like he was stupid. “That’s ridiculous. I was born like this.” Ditzy shrugged. “Honestly, I can’t imagine not being able to see two things at once.”
“Well,” Tempest began, putting on a false air of wisdom, “It’s a lot like what you see, only half as much.”
Ditzy chuckled at the witty response. “Good one,” she said. “Now it’s my turn.”
“Your turn to what?”
“Ask questions,” she answered, scooting closer. “For example, why did you pick long-distance delivery as a specialty?”
“Because I don’t like flying over large crowds of ponies.” Tempest replied.
Ditzy stared (sort of) a little. “That’s... specific.” she said.
“The fact that I can fly strait through storms kinda works in my favor too,” he continued. “And you should see some of the crowds in Hayton. Some of the city blocks probably have more ponies than your entire town. And when they’re all talking and shuffling around on the street they make all these crazy updrafts and air currents that are really hard to fly in and aren’t helped at all by the twenty pounds of letters in my bag.”
“So you’d rather fly halfway across Equestria than deal with crowds?”
Tempest nodded. “Much rather.”
“...Alright,” Ditzy said, “Moving on. Um, what’s your house like?”
Rubbing his chin, Tempest thought about how to answer. “OK,” he began, having decided, “Imagine your house.”
Ditzy waited for him to continue, before she realized that that was a command. “Oh! Um, OK, I’m imagining it.” she replied, closing her eyes.
“Good,” Tempest told her, nodding despite the fact that she couldn’t see him. “Now, it’s nothing like that.”
Opening her eyes, Ditzy glared as Tempest chuckled slightly. “Ha ha,” she sarcastically laughed. “Now, how about some real information?”
“There’s nothing to say about it, really,” Tempest said, ending his laugh with a little snort. “It’s a city apartment. Four walls and a bed. The neighbors are alright, though, and there aren’t roaches everywhere, so it could definitely be worse.”
Suddenly, Tempest shuddered. “And it has been. I’ve had some really bad flat mates before. Want to hear about them?”
Ditzy shrugged. “Sure, go ahead.”
Eyes gleaming, Tempest started his story. “Alright, so once, there was this snake charmer guy that moved in above me...”
~~~
“...and then animal control walked back out of the building with twenty cages and lots of scratches. We still don’t know how he smuggled three dozen squirrels into the building, or how he got them so aggressive, but the scientist guy was evicted that day. He might be in jail now.”
Gasping, Ditzy tried to stop laughing long enough to respond. She was unable to decide whether she should feel sorry for all the unpleasantness Tempest had to go through for these stories or continue to laugh at the tales of his horrible neighbors.
Around the point where Tempest was wondering if she was choking instead of laughing and was contemplating the Heimlich maneuver, the mare finally managed to calm down enough to speak. “Wow,” she said, pausing for another chuckle, “I haven’t laughed that hard in ages. You have a way with stories.”
Tempest shrugged. “Years of long flights by myself have give me a rather entertaining internal voice,” he explained. "It also helps having funny experiences with crazy ponies in the same building to talk about."
“I can’t imagine living near ponies like that,” Ditzy continued after an amused snort. “Most citizens of Ponyville are really nice. It must be really frustrating sharing a building with such bothersome ponies.”
“Why do you think I deliver things to far away places?” Tempest joked, raising an eyebrow. “Honestly, though, it’s not really that horrible. Most of the time my neighbors are just occasionally obnoxious. Day-in day-out annoyances generally get evicted pretty quickly.”
At the mention of the word “day,” Ditzy looked to the sky. She was shocked to see that several hours had already passed since they arrived, and that it was already lunch time. A little past, in fact.
Following her gaze, Tempest too noted the position of the sun. “Wow,” he said. “Time flies when you’re having fun, huh?”
“Yeah,” Ditzy replied, standing up. “It’s already time to eat. Dinky!”
Hearing her mother’s call, the filly looked up from what she was doing, which was, currently, holding Almond’s hoof. Behind his head. While he was face-down in the dirt.
“What?” she called back.
“It’s time for lunch! Let’s go!”
“Aw!” Dinky complained, releasing Almond from the hold she had him in. Almond grunted and got up, rubbing his shoulder. The colt winced again as Dinky surprise-hugged him.
“Bye, Almond!” she said.
Hesitantly returning the hug, Almond answered “Bye, Dinky.”
Before the earth pony could react, Dinky dashed off towards her mother, leaving him slightly confused and with a sore arm. On her way, she called back over her shoulder.
“By the way, I won!”
Oblivious to what they had been competing in, Almond just watched her run.
As her daughter approached, Ditzy turned to Tempest.
“So,” she began, “Where do you think we should eat?”
Tempest stared at her blankly. “I don’t know where anything is,” he replied, “I only got here a couple days ago.”
“Oh, right,” Ditzy said, blushing a little and feeling dumb. “Sorry.”
By this point, Dinky had walked up to the pair. She sat down on the ground in front of them, pouting slightly at having to leave, but happy that they were going to get food.
“Well, Dinky,” Ditzy asked, turning to the filly and trying to dismiss the folly she had just made, “Where do you think we should go to eat?”
“Um...” the small unicorn mumbled, thinking, “Sugar Cube Corner?”
“Food, Muffin. Not treats.”
“...Oh! How about the Sandwich Place?”
“Great idea, Dinky!” Ditzy said, bending down so the small unicorn could climb on her back. Once she felt the familiar weight settle between her wings, she stood back up. “Ready?”
“Ready!” the filly exclaimed, already excited about the prospect of flying again.
With that, the pair took to the skies, Tempest Rider following close behind. Flying next to the mare, Tempest turned to look at her.
“So where is this ‘Sandwich Place?’” he asked, whilst Dinky giggled and made her gums flap in the wind.
“It’s on the other side of town,” she answered, speaking loudly to be heard over the wind. “It’s a little cafè owned by a local family. It’s pretty nice.”
“Why is it called the Sandwich Place?”
“It’s not,” Ditzy replied, nodding to her oblivious daughter. “That’s just Dinky’s name for it. She likes the place a lot.”
Tempest shrugged. “I take it she likes the sandwiches?”
“They don’t serve sandwiches.”
Now Tempest was just confused. “Then why does she-”
“Well, Mr. Rider, you seem to be healing up nicely.” Nurse Redheart said, reading her clipboard.
It was the day after the visit to the park, and Tempest Rider was getting a check up at the hospital. After Redheart had removed the bandages from Tempest’s head and leg, she had been pleased to see that the wounds were cleanly sealed and free of infection. As the nurse had poked and prodded at his tender flesh, Tempest had fidgeting uncomfortably on the tissue paper-covered table. Meanwhile, Ditzy had sat in the corner, quietly reading a magazine article about some celebrity’s new foal, one eye disinterestedly scanning the page while the other watched the examination.
Tempest looked at Redheart hopefully. "Really?" he asked.
"Yes," the nurse replied. "I'd say you're ready for regular flying."
"Does that mean I can fly back to Hayton now?"
Upon hearing this, Nurse Redheart nearly dropped her clipboard. "Hayton?" she exclaimed, "My goodness, no! That is much too far!"
Tempest looked irritated. "I can make it," he insisted, "I'm a long-distance courier. I do that sort of thing all the time."
"Absolutely not," Redheart asserted, stomping her hoof.
"But-"
"While I have no doubt in your athletic skill," the white mare interrupted, "Your body is not ready for such a journey. If you attempt it, you will quickly overexert yourself and probably end up getting hurt again. It is in your best interest to wait."
Tempest stared defiantly at Redheart for a while, before sighing and slumping his shoulders discouragedly. "Fine," he mumbled, "How long?"
"I'd say five days minimum," she said, tapping her chin. "A week to be safe."
"That long!?" Tempest groaned despairingly.
"Afraid so," the earth pony replied. "Until then, try to get some light exercise and do some stretches."
As Tempest snorted, Ditzy, who had been watching the exchange with some amusement, stood up. Tossing aside the magazine full of gossip about famous ponies she didn't care about, she looked at Redheart.
"Will that be all?" she asked.
"Yes," the nurse answered, "You are free to leave."
Tempest Rider immediately hopped up from the table and made for the exit, looking dejected. Before Ditzy could follow, however, Nurse Redheart put a hoof on her shoulder.
"A moment, please," she whispered. After making sure Tempest had left the room, she continued. "I'd like you to watch him, Ditzy. He seems like he kind of pony that would ignore my advice if he didn't like it."
Ditzy nodded and whispered back. "Don't worry; I'll keep one eye on him."
Redheart paused. The she chuckled. "You know," she said, "For most ponies, that would be a figure of speech." Dizty grinned. "I'm not most ponies."
~~~
Ditzy and Tempest were walking down the street in the midday sun. Tempest had his head down, and looked as forlorn as a lost puppy. Seeing this, Ditzy decided to give him a playful nudge.
"Come on," she said, "Cheer up. You just got a clean bill of health."
"Yeah," he replied, "But I was kind of hoping I'd be able to fly back to Hayton today."
"Are you that eager to get home?"
"Honestly, no," he admitted, "But I still feel awkward staying in your house."
“Hey,” Ditzy asserted, one eye looking at him seriously while the other gave the clouds a particularly intense glare, “You shouldn’t. You have every right to be there. You’re paying rent fair and square, and against my insistence, I might add. As long as I’m here, you are perfectly welcome in my house.”
Tempest gave the mare an grateful smile. “Thanks,” he said, “I appreciate that.”
Looking up into the sky, he gave a frustrated sigh. “But still, what am I going to do for an entire week? Sitting around doing nothing gets boring after a couple hours, let alone seven days.”
Ditzy ‘hmm’d and rubbed her chin, trying to come up with an idea. Suddenly, her eyes flashed. “Weellll,” she drawled, grinning at her idea, “The nurse did say you should get some exercise, right?”
“Yeah,” Tempest grumpily replied, glaring at the the dirt in what might have been an attempt to intimidate it into inspiring him.
“Well then, maybe you should do something that requires flying around,” Ditzy said, trying to edge him on.
When the only reply Tempest gave was a grunt, the mailmare tried again. “Maybe something you’re familiar with...?”
“That would be a good idea,” he agreed, her words making a ‘whoosh’ sound as they flew over his head.
Losing patience, Ditzy stopped Tempest and turned his head towards her. “Think, Tempest,” she commanded, “What do you do for a living?”
“...Deliver things?” he replied, confused and a little frightened.
Nodding, Ditzy continued. “So, what do you think you should do...?”
Tempest only stared blankly back at her.
Sighing in exasperation, Ditzy took her hooves off his face. “Get a job at the post office, you dunce!” she told him, bopping him on the nose.
“Oh. Ohhhh!” Tempest said, realization dawning in his eyes. “Like a mail route!”
“Great Celestia, he understands! It’s a miracle!” Ditzy cried, sarcastically waving her hooves in the air.
“That’s a great idea!” the stallion exclaimed happily, choosing to ignore Ditzy’s exaggerated display. “This way, my boss won’t yell at me for slacking off when I get back!”
It was true; the EPPS was a national enterprise, with outposts in many places. If Tempest logged hours here, they would count the same as if he had logged them over in Hayton. It was something that he had taken advantage of many times when he had been sent to more vacation-y places and didn’t want to leave for a while. Indeed, many long-distance specialists practiced this, which was part of the reason jobs were always available. It was strange that he hadn’t thought of it sooner.
“There we go,” Ditzy said, good-naturedly headbutting his shoulder. “That fixes both your problems. Now that we have a plan of action, what should we do?”
“Let’s go get me signed up,” he enthusiastically replied. “I want to start tomorrow!”
“Well then, post office is this way!”
~~~
An hour later, and after a fair amount of credential-checking, Ditzy and Tempest exited the Ponyville Post Office, one smiling and one hovering excitedly.
“Well,” Ditzy asked. “How do you feel about your new route?”
“Great!” Tempest replied, beaming. Suddenly, he sobered up. “Your boss has facial hair.”
“Yeah,” Ditzy said, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not sure how he does it; I’ve never seen another stallion with anything like it.”
“I have,” the stallion told her. “My boss.”
“Huh, that’s odd.”
“Maybe it’s a boss thing,” Tempest contemplated. “Like, if you get a high enough position in something, they teach you how to grow a beard.”
Ditzy scoffed. “Right. Because everypony in a position of power aspires to have facial hair.”
Unbidden, an image of Princess Celestia with a handlebar moustache popped into both of their minds. Tempest snerked, while Ditzy stifled a giggle.
“Well,” the mare said, clearing her throat. “We should probably get home.”
“Already?” Tempest asked, looking at the sky. “It’s still early.”
“Oh, believe me, you’re going to need all the sleep you can get.”
“Why’s that?” Tempest asked, suspicious.
Ditzy allowed herself a mischievous grin. “Because you’ve got a mail route tomorrow.”
~~~
“Rise and shine!”
Startled, Tempest yelped and fell out of bed. Crashing onto the floor, he waved his limbs around in a panic, succeeding only in entangling himself in the covers. After a few moments of blindly rolling around on the floor and making noises somewhere between a choking goat and a particularly ill-tempered turkey, the pegasus eventually righted himself, sitting up with a blanket hooding his head and an irritated scowl.
“What the hay was that for!?” he yelled at Ditzy, who was standing in the doorway and laughing.
Once she calmed down, Ditzy spoke. “It’s time to get up,” she said with a chuckle.
“What?” Tempest barked. Looking out the window, he saw the sun was barely peeking above the horizon. “No way; it’s too early.”
“Mailponies get up early,” Ditzy told him, smiling with a mixture of smugness and amusement. “Now come on, Mr. Long-Distance, it’s time for breakfast.”
With that, the mare turned and left. Grumbling, Tempest followed, stopping once to stumble over the blanket again. A whispered curse and a trip down the stairs later, he arrived at the kitchen table, rubbing his eyes. Seated before him in her special chair was Dinky, looking at him happily and tauntingly awake.
“Morning, mistah Tempest!” she greeted.
“Morning, runt,” he replied, taking the opportunity to stretch. He sighed in relief as he heard his spine pop, and flapped his wings a little to get the blood flowing. The breeze created by this movement caused a small piece of paper on the floor to flutter across the room and mussed up Dinky’s mane.
“Oops, sorry,” he apologized, patting the filly’s little blond mop back into place. She giggled as he did so, making him crack a small smile.
Hearing a clunk from behind him, Tempest turned around and saw Ditzy setting a plate on the table, with two more on her back. All plates had a neat stack of pancakes on them, still steaming from being hot off the oven.
“Pancakes!” Dinky cried, throwing her hooves in the air in excitement.
“S’right,” Ditzy mumbled around the plate in her mouth. Setting the last one down on the table, she sat down. “I hope you both like them.”
Setting himself down in front of a plate, Tempest eagerly took a bite of the one on top.
“It’s delicious!” he complimented. Dinky, however, didn’t respond. She was too busy burying her face in the entire stack and munching noisily.
And they were! They were so soft, and fluffy, and golden, and tasty, and fluffy, and warm, and soft, and aromatic, and buttery, and soft...
“Mama?”
“Yes, Dinky?”
“Mistah Tempest fell asleep on the pancakes.”
Indeed he had. His head was resting on his breakfast, using the cakes as an impromptu pillow. His mouth hung open and drool and bits of partially-masticated foodstuffs dribbled out.
Ditzy laughed. “Yes, I can see that,” she said.
“...Can I pour syrup on his head?”
“No, Muffin. That would be mean.”
“Aw...”
~~~
Stumbling, Tempest Rider trotted through the door of the Ponyville Post Office, right behind a much more alert Ditzy. Squinting at the bright light, he managed to see the blurry shapes of a few ponies conversing among themselves. The rest of the mail crew, his sleep-addled brain surmised. Following the vague grey shape of Ditzy’s back, he walked up to the front desk.
“Hey, boss,” Ditzy said.
Hearing this, Tempest jolted upright and shook his head, trying to appear more awake. Looking in front of him, he saw the same large brown pegasus stallion that had been there yesterday. His chin was preposterously large and covered in 5-o’clock shadow, and atop his head sat a black baseball cap. Feeling eyes upon him, the stallion looked right at Tempest.
“Ah!” he greeted, voice loud and gravelly. “The fresh blood! Tempest, right? From the Hayton branch?”
“Yes, sir,” Tempest replied, visibly trying to stifle a yawn.
The stallion noticed this. “Something wrong, recruit?”
“No, sir. Just a little tired, sir.”
“Tired?” the pegasus repeated, then chuckled. “He he, isn’t that cute?” Suddenly, he slammed his hooves on the table and shouted in Tempest’s face. “BUT IT’S WRONG!”
“AAH!” Tempest screamed, jumping in the air and flying backwards. Heart pounding, he stopped about twenty feet off the ground and twenty-five away. Looking down, he managed to stop his hyperventilating for long enough to notice that everypony was laughing, including Ditzy and the boss pony. Suspiciously, he flew back down to the counter.
The brown stallion was still holding his sides by time Tempest touched down. “Hehehehe,” he wheezed, “I love doing that.”
Tempest glared at him. “Right,” he said angrily, stalwartly ignoring the fact that the entire crew was laughing, “Mind telling me what that was about?”
“Boss likes to do that to all new recruits,” Ditzy interjected for her boss, who was still trying to catch his breath. “He thinks it’s hilarious.”
“It is!” Boss gasped. Judging by the guffawing of all the other mailponies, they thought so too. “He actually flew away! Backwards! AHAHAHAHA!”
Seeing Tempest’s scowl, Ditzy decided to try and redirect attention from him. “Don’t worry,” she soothed, patting him on the back. “He did it to all of us. Personally, I ducked beneath the counter.”
“I screamed and jumped!” one pegasus called from the crowd.
“I almost fainted!” cried a unicorn.
“Raindrop punched him in the face!” yelled somepony from the back.
“It was a reflex!” a dark yellow pegasus with a teal mane protested. “I didn’t mean it!”
“My flank you didn’t mean it...” Boss grumbled, rubbing his stubbly cheek at the memory. Thus sobered, he looked towards Tempest. “Anyways, your cargo and route are on the table in the back room. Start time is in ten minutes. I suggest you get ready.”
“Yes sir,” Tempest replied, and marched off to get his things.
“Oh, and one more thing.”
“Sir?”
“Get some coffee, boy. You need to be awake.”
A minute later, Tempest walked into the break room properly burdened with mail and a list of homes on his route. He set the paper down on the table and grabbed a steaming mug from a nearby table, absentmindedly sipping it as he read over the parchment. Peering over his shoulder, Ditzy examined the addresses on the paper.
“Ooh, good,” she said. “Your last house is right near mine. We can meet up for lunch!”
“Ok, sure,” Tempest answered, not taking his eyes off the table. “How long should this take?”
“Depends on the day,” the mare explained. “Usually, we finish around noon, maybe a little before. Then we head back here and help with packages. After our break, of course.
Tempest nodded. “Of course.” Looking up, he asked, “Where should we meet?”
“I’ll be waiting near your last house.”
“Oh?” Tempest asked, raising an eyebrow in challenge. “What makes you think you’ll get done before me?”
“Simple,” Ditzy said, smiling confidently, “I know where I’m going. You’re going to be spending half the time looking at your list.”
“You’re on,” the stallion agreed, holding out his hoof.
An amused smirk on her face, Ditzy shook his foreleg. “On?” she questioned. “Is this a contest now?”
“It’s a bet,” Tempest answered, looking smug. “Whoever finishes last has to...” Suddenly, his eyes lit up. “Has to buy lunch! Deal?”
Ditzy rolled her eyes (in opposite directions). “Deal.”
“Good,” he said, before dashing out the door at top speed.
Ditzy watched him go, and chuckled, before following him at a more leisurely pace. She wondered when he was going to come back for his list
~~~
Lying leisurely in the dappled shade of a tree, Ditzy watched other ponies go about their business. Lunch hour was just beginning, and the traffic on the streets was starting to increase. Groups of workponies intermingled as they walked towards whatever destination they had in mind. Families with foals too young to go to school were out enjoying the sunshine or going for a little jaunt down the street to keep them awake on such a lazy-feeling day.
Just as she considered the possibility of taking a short nap, Ditzy spotted Tempest, mailbag in tow, flying in her direction. With one eye on him and the other watching a potted plant, she saw the incredulous look on his face as he saw her. Gliding down to his last delivery of the morning, he snappily popped the letters in the mailbox and made his way over to her tree.
“How did you get done so fast?” he asked with a disbelieving tone.
“Years of experience,” Ditzy cheerfully replied. “Actually, I’m impressed you got done so quickly; I’ve only been here for a few minutes. Lots of the new recruits don’t get done until past noon.”
Tempest snorted. “Well, it’s not like I’ve never delivered things before.”
Ditzy chuckled. “Now, about that bet...”
“Yes, you won,” Tempest sighed in acceptance. “I’m buying. Where should we go?”
“I know a place,” Ditzy replied as she sat up and stretched. “Follow me.”
~~~
“‘The Porcelain Horseshoe?’” Tempest asked, staring up at the large wooden sign. Above the diner’s name was a picture of an immense horseshoe painted a shining alabaster white. A slightly ajar cerulean door leaked an aroma that smelled slightly like cinnamon.
“Sounds froofy, I know,” Ditzy said as she trotted inside, “But this place has the best sweetbread I’ve ever tasted.”
Doubtful, Tempest followed. Upon entering, he was greeted with a sight he most certainly didn’t expect. While the name made it sound like a high-class club where rich ponies would gather to discuss their favorite types of imported cheeses and flick cashews at plebeians, the inside gave off an atmosphere of friendliness and joviality. Ponies sitting at tables talked and laughed with each other in between bouts of stuffing their faces with food. The decor seemed to have a theme of “blue,” with the walls being painted sky-tones, the floor being cobalt tiles, and the tables being a rich indigo. What Tempest assumed to be the restaurant's namesake was sitting on the mantelpiece: a gleaming white shoe apparently made out of solid porcelain, encased nicely in a regal wooden frame with a glass pane in front. Spotting Ditzy already sitting down on one of the cushions surrounding the tables, Tempest walked over and sat down across from her.
“Well?” Ditzy asked once Tempest had seated himself. “First impressions?”
Cocking his head to the side, Tempest thought for a moment. “It’s nice,” he admitted. Sniffing, he added, “It smells really good too.”
“That’d be the Sweet Potato Special,” said a copper-colored mare as she walked up to the table. “Fresh outta the oven. Get it while it’s hot!”
“Hi there, Two-Tone!” Ditzy greeted, waving a hoof in her general direction.
As the unicorn turned her head, Tempest noticed that while one side of her mane was pearly white and vaulted high, the other was ruby red and laid flat against her head. “Oh, Ditzy!” she gasped, her waitress’s smile turning into a genuine one. “I didn’t see you there, hun! How’s it going?”
“Great! Just stopping by for lunch!”
Two-Tone chuckled. “Good ta hear! I’m still waiting to hear back from that hairdresser. ‘Til then, I’m stuck here.” She stuck our her hoof. “Here’s hopin’.”
Ditzy bumped her hoof against the unicorn’s. “I know you’ll get the job, Tone. You’re the best hair stylist I’ve ever seen.”
Putting her leg bag down, Two-Tone levitated a pen and pad up. “I take it you want the usual?” Ditzy nodded.
Looking over at Tempest, she continued, “What about you, hun? You know what you want, or do you need more time?”
Suddenly, Tempest realized he hadn’t even looked at the menu. Thinking fast, he said, “Uh, I’ll have what she’s having.”
Nodding, Two-Tone tucked the pencil behind her ear. As she trotted off to the kitchen, Ditzy shot Tempest a curious glance.
“You don’t even know what I ordered,” she accused.
Tempest shrugged. “Guess I’m going to find out.”
Quickly, the two lapsed into silence. After a distant shout of what sounded like ’Oi, Cooky, we got orders!’ Tempest decided to try and start a conversation.
“So,” he began, “Is there a story behind the name of this place?”
Eager to end the silence, Ditzy nodded. “Mm-hmm,” she affirmed. “You saw the shoe on the mantle, right?” After a positive nod from the stallion, Ditzy went on. “Well, they say it belonged to Pegalisus the Mad.”
“Who?”
“Ooh, you haven’t head the story!” The mare clapped her hooves together excitedly. “That means I get to tell you it! Yay!”
Settling down into a more comfortable position, Ditzy began the tale. “Once, way up north in Solitrot, there was a son of a pegasus noble named Pegalisus. Throughout his foalhood, he seemed completely normal, if a bit ‘creative.’ Eventually, through family ties, he managed to become head of the weather development team. That’s when the chaos started. At first, it was just little things; a missed shower here, an oddly windy day there. But then it started to get stranger. Frogs started falling from the sky, bitter cold winds started blowing in summer, liquid rainbows started coming down like... well, rain. The cause of the unstable weather was eventually traced back to Pegalisus, and the citizens of Solitrot formed an angry mob. They stormed to his estate, which he had turned into a virtual fortress over the years. The mob and the city guard laid siege to the place for three days, all the while Pegalisus stood on the battlements and shouted gibberish at them. It only ended when they captured Pegalisus after he came out and tried to shoo them all away with a broom, of all things. From that day forth, he was known as Pegalisus the Mad, and psychological exams are required to hold positions of power in weather control.”
“Ok...” Tempest said, “That’s a really cool story and all, but what does that have to do with the shoe?”
“I was getting to that. They say that, while he was still in charge, he ordered new shoes for everypony in the force. Shoes made out of weird things. Granite, obsidian, rubber, wood, all sorts of strange materials. He himself got a set of porcelain ones, which he never took off.”
“Why would he do that?”
“‘Cause ‘e was a nutter.” Two-Tone interrupted as she walked over, two platters held aloft by an amber aura. “Nutters do all sorts ‘a weird things.”
The unicorn grinned as she put the plates on the table. “I try. Here’s your food.”
“Thank you, miss,” Tempest said, trying to be courteous. Two-Tone just looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
Quietly, she chuckled. “Polite one, innit he?” she laughed. “Found yourself a nice catch, eh Ditz? Anyways, nice talking to you, but I gotta get back to work. Bye!”
As the waitress trotted away, Ditzy blushed furiously at what she had implied. Luckily for her, however, Tempest had been busy inspecting the dish before him and had not heard her comment. While she was trying to pale her rosy cheeks, Tempest spoke up.
“So,” he began, still staring at the plate, “What are they?”
On the plates before them were two piles of lightly frosted pastries. They had a slight orange tint to them, and smelled vaguely of warm cinnamon.
Quietly coughing, Ditzy answered. “Sweetrolls. They’re a bit like a cross between muffins and cupcakes.” She licked her lips. “They taste amazing.”
With that, the mare began eating with impressive gusto. After watching her for a moment, Tempest shrugged and flipped one of the rolls into the air with his hoof. Catching it in his mouth, his eyes widened. It was delicious! He immediately started decimating the pile of confectioneries with great enthusiasm. Face-first.
~~~
After the sweetrolls had been vehemently devoured (much to the amusement of Two-Tone) and the meal paid for by Tempest (also much to the amusement of Two-Tone), the pair of pegasi started on their way back to the post office. Tempest, still trying to brush icing out of his mane, attempted to start some mid-flight conversation.
“So,” he started, “Now that the mail is delivered, what are we supposed to for the rest of the day?”
“Well,” Ditzy responded, picking up a little speed, “Like I said earlier, now we usually deliver the packages that came in during the day. Some of them were dropped off by locals, some came from other cities and are on the final leg, some are heavy loads, you know, that sort of thing.” Hearing Tempest chuckle, Ditzy looked at him questioningly.
“Hehe,” he quietly chortled, “It’s kind of funny actually.”
“What?”
The stallion twirled a hoof in the air in a vague gesture. “It’s just that, you know, I’ve always been the one to take packages to their last leg. Now I’m taking them on their last leg. It’s ironic or something.”
“Not quite ironic,” Ditzy corrected, “But I see what you mean.”
“Whatever,” Tempest said, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t become a mailpony to get grammar lessons.”
Ditzy opened her mouth to correct him again, but decided against it. After a few more minutes of silent flying, Tempest piped up again.
“What’s the strangest thing that ever happened to you on a delivery?” he asked.
“Erm,” Ditzy hesitated, caught off guard by the unprovoked question, “I don’t know.”
“Come on,” Tempest egged, “You have to have a funny story somewhere in that head.”
“Just give me a-”
“Funny story, funny story, Tempest want a funny story!” the stallion chanted, grinning stupidly and bouncing up and down.
“Alright, alright!” Ditzy cried, laughing. “I have a story! I didn’t realize I was flying with Dinky.”
“Hey,” he said, smiling victoriously, “My strategy works.”
“Anyways,” Ditzy began, ignoring the smug look on Tempest’s face, “The weirdest thing was probably when me and Raindrop dropped a bunch of stuff on the most powerful unicorn in town.”
“What kind of stuff?” Tempest asked curiously.
Ditzy bit her lip. “A plant pot.”
“That’s not so bad.”
“And an anvil, and a cart full of hay, and a piano...”
Tempest winced. “Ouch. Did she sue?”
“Thankfully no. She was too busy stalking Pinkie Pie, the party pony.”
“Um, Ok...”
With one eye looking at Tempest and the other staring at a flock of geese, she jabbed the stallion in the side. “Your turn,” she told him. “What’s the weirdest delivery you ever made?”
Tempest rubbed his chin in thought. “Hmm,” he pondered, “I guess it would have to be that time that I flew through that one storm that passed through Fillydelphia. You see, there had been a veterinary convention...”
~~~
Tempest was just finishing his story as they landed outside the office.
“...And when I gave the lady the package, one of the Guinea pigs that I missed fell out of my mane and started running around on the floor. Apparently she had some phobia about rodents, because she jumped up on a chair and screamed.” He snorted. “Didn’t even give me a tip, mean old nag. If only she knew what I went through to get that box to her...”
“She probably would have had a heart attack,” Ditzy added. Suddenly, she visibly shuddered. “I can’t imagine having all those hamsters crawling all over you. It must have been terrible.”
“Don’t remind me,” Tempest said, clenching his eyes shut. “I can’t even look at anything small and furry anymore without getting chills.”
“I don’t blame you.”
Walking through the door, the two headed for the back room. It was immediately apparent that they were two of the last ponies to arrive back from lunch. All around the board where delivery jobs were posted, ponies were jostling each other trying to get closer. Standing at the back of the pack, Ditzy looked at them with a frown.
“Darn,” she pouted. “Looks like we get the leftovers.” Tempest only stared at the pile of mailponies, wondering if he was looking at a fight for jobs or a pack of starving wolves.
After the majority of the crowd had cleared off to start their deliveries, Ditzy waltzed up to the board, Tempest close behind. Leaning in close, the mare perused the list in the same way that a wine enthusiast might examine a bottle. Suddenly, she jabbed her hoof into one specific job.
“Perfect!” she exclaimed, removing the sheet containing the delivery information from the adjacent pocket.
After watching her look at the other jobs more casually for a moment, Tempest decided to inquire. “Why is that one perfect?” he ventured.
“It takes me right by the schoolhouse,” Ditzy answered, taking another envelope from the board. “I pick Dinky up soon. This is how I usually get her home. Sometimes, if I get good jobs, I can just stay home with her.” She placed another two envelopes in her bag and turned to face the stallion. “Of course, since we were late, that’s not likely to happen.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” the mare said, smiling. “You’re the last guy, so you have to take the rest. Pick up room is in the back. Hop to it.”
As she trotted off, Tempest looked at the remaining jobs on the board. There were only four left. Picking one up, Tempest looked it over.
This can’t be too hard, he thought.
~~~
By the time the jobs had been finished, Tempest had revised his opinion. The leftover deliveries he had received had taken him to all the four corners of Ponyville and back. His still-recovering wings ached and he felt buzzing in his mane from several trapped flies. Touching down in front of the office on what he hoped was his final stop of the day, he shook the offending insects from his windblown indigo mop and trotted into the doorway. A short bit of spacial comprehension later, he trotted through the doorway and into the office proper. Seeing Ditzy sitting at the front desk conversing with the boss stallion, he headed her way, hoping that they hadn’t noticed his little collision with the woodwork.
“Hello, Tempest,” Ditzy greeted.
“Hey, rookie,” the grizzled pegasus grunted.
“‘Ey,” Tempest mumbled, spitting his signed order completion forms out on the desk.
Sweeping the papers into a box to be gone through by interns later, the brown stallion asked, “So, how’d your first day go?”
“I learned to never be the last one to the job board,” Tempest growled, an irritated frown on his face.
Ditzy and the boss chuckled. “True enough,” Boss said. “Now, go on, you two. Day’s over.”
Needing no further invitation, Tempest grumbled his farewells and left, Ditzy close behind. Soon, both of them were airborne and headed towards Ditzy’s house. About halfway there, Ditzy abruptly stopped in midair.
“Oh, horseapples,” she exclaimed, smacking her forehead. “I need to pick some flour up at the store real quick.”
“Go ahead, then; I can find my way there,” Tempest replied. After a moment, he gave her a creepy smile. “I know where you live.”
Ditzy jabbed him in the side. “Don’t do that; it’s scary,” she chastised. “I’ll probably only be a few minutes late.”
“Gotcha,” Tempest confirmed, flying off.
I bet I wouldn’t have used so much flour this morning if Dinky hadn’t tried to help with the pancakes, Ditzy thought, fluttering off in the other direction.
~~~
With a large bag of flour balanced precariously on her back, Ditzy landed on her doorstep. Silently appreciating the skills that carrying Dinky around had given her, she reached for the doorknob. Just before she opened it, she hesitated. Inside, she could hear strange noises; it sounded like a small filly giggling and squealing, and somepony attempting to make monster noises. Easing the door open slowly, the mailmare peeked inside.
Within the house, something rather strange was taking place. Dinky, making all manner of happy noises, was sitting on Tempest Rider’s head. Tempest, for his part, was galloping madly around in circles, bucking and playfully trying to shake Dinky off. They both looked to be having gratuitous amounts of fun.
In the middle of his pseudo-rodeo, Tempest noticed Ditzy standing in the doorway. He screeched to a halt, Dinky squealing and holding tightly to his mane. As the filly giggled, Tempest tried to quickly come up with something to say.
"Iiiiiiii'm gonna getcha!" Tempest Rider playfully rumbled, dropping into a crouch.
"Nuh-uh!" giggled Dinky, hopping to the other side of the coffee table.
"Gonna catch ya!"
"Nope!"
Tempest, feeling much more awake than he had for the past three days, slunk around the edge of the table, trying to get at Dinky. Squealing, the filly bounded away in the opposite direction. Tempest, smiling mischievously, slowly pulled himself forward, belly on the ground and rump in the air, looking for all the world like a cat about to pounce.
Chasing Dinky around was quickly proving to be a source of great entertainment (and bruises) for Tempest. The little unicorn was fast, agile, and Tempest swore she teleported when he wasn't looking. Always up for a challenge, the pegasus had taken to playing with Dinky like a cat with a ball of yarn, much to her delight.
Leaping forward to cut off a potential escape route, Tempest managed to back Dinky into a corner. Smirking confidently in his victory, he sat down on his haunches and looked at her.
"Well, my slippery little friend," he said, twirling an imaginary mustache, "It seems that you are..." He laughed manically for effect. "Cornered!"
"Booooooo!" Dinky catcalled, sticking out her tongue.
Ignoring her, Tempest crouched low. Dinky saw his haunches tense, preparing to leap, and backed up slightly. Quickly, he sprang forward, using his wings for extra propulsion. As he landed, however, a look of surprise crossed his face as he was met with nothing more than a face-full of rug.
Dinky, with her gift of foresight, had jumped upwards the moment before Tempest had launched himself. Landing on his head, she had used it as a springboard to catapult herself over the airborne stallion. Currently, she was standing a few feet back, giggling as Tempest picked himself up off the floor.
"Clever girl," he growled, spitting out a bit of carpet fuzz, "But how long will your luck last?"
"Until you give up!" the filly squeaked.
With that, Dinky dashed off in the other direction before Tempest could turn around. Sliding around the corner, she immediately skidded to a stop, eyes wide at what she saw. Tempest, not far behind, powered around the corner after her. Unfortunately for him, he could not stop as suddenly as Dinky, and ended up slamming his chin on the ground in his attempt to cancel his momentum.
Before them was Ditzy, with a raised eyebrow of suspicion adorning her face. "What are you two up to?" she asked.
"Nothing," the pair answered in unison, not meeting the eye that was looking at them.
"Awful lot of noise for 'nothing,' don't you think?" she calmly accused, trying to hide a small grin.
Instead of answering, the two ponies just glanced around nervously. Suddenly, Dinky bolted upright and pointed a hoof at Tempest.
"It was his idea!" she cried, before galloping away.
Looking back over his shoulder, Tempest yelled, "You little liar! You started it!" Looking back at Ditzy, he added, "She did, you know."
Ditzy, greatly amused, was chuckling into her hoof. She could get used to mornings like this.
~~~
"Package duty?"
The brown stallion grunted an affirmative, not looking up from his clipboard. "Both of ya. Two of the usuals are apparently 'sick'." He spoke the last word with a tremendous amount of doubt. "And you two are fillin' in for them."
Tempest, accepting of his new fate, nodded in understanding. Ditzy, by contrast, was looking nervous, no doubt remembering how disastrous her last attempt at package duty had been.
Either by virtue of empathy or mind-reading, Boss was aware of how Ditzy was feeling. Setting down his clipboard, he looked into her askew eyes. "Just be careful this time, Ditzy," he assuaged, "And everything will go fine."
Hesitantly, Ditzy nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Good," he said, looking back at his clipboard. "Truck's in the back. Get flappin'."
A few minutes later, both gray pegasi were flying alongside a pony-driven flying truck. While the navigator directed the two pullers to their destination, Ditzy and Tempest followed closely behind. Since they were there to do heavy lifting, they didn't have anything to do until they reached their goal.
Trying to pass the time, Ditzy struck up a conversation. "Thanks for playing with Dinky, by the way," she told him. "She really enjoys it."
"So do I," Tempest replied, smiling fondly. "It's really fun. I swear though, it's like trying to catch a dragonfly using your back hooves."
Ditzy chuckled at the analogy. "Imagine trying to get her dressed for a school play."
Tempest's pupils immediately dilated. "I'd rather not."
"Really, though," the mare continued, "I do appreciate it. The last time she had somepony so willing to play with her was when my cousin Moddy stayed with us for a week."
"Moddy?" the stallion questioned, looking at her funny. "Moddy Doo?"
"Yes, that's right," she replied, raising an eyebrow. "He lives way over on the Isle of Pony. Why?"
"I think I delivered a package to him once."
Ditzy looked surprised. "Really?"
"Yeah. Big black fella, right? Looks like he hasn't seen a pair of shears in his life?"
"That sounds like Moddy, alright," she confirmed, amused at his description. "I don't think he's gotten trimmed since he moved out."
"Hey, guys!" a voice called from the front. "We're here! Time to get unloading!"
"Got it!" Tempest yelled back, opening the door in the back.
Before Ditzy could follow, he emerged carrying a large cardboard box. Taller than it was long, it likely contained something akin to a cabinet. Something likely to be heavy. Ditzy blinked. That should take both of them to carry..
"Erm," she hesitated, "Tempest?"
"Yeah?" he nonchalantly replied, slowly lowering himself to the ground.
"Isn't that heavy?"
"Not really, no. Why?"
Ditzy scratched the back of her head. "Because we are both supposed to be carrying it."
"...Oh."
Flapping over, Ditzy took the other end of the box and began helping Tempest bring it down. With both of them, the decent was much smoother and more controlled. Ditzy, however, was still astounded at how well Tempest had been doing before. He must be very strong.
Over at the doorway, the navigator, a pegasus named Sine Heer, was watching as the package recipient signed the delivery confirmation form. Peering back over his shoulder, he noticed that Ditzy and that new guy, Tempest, were getting close.
"Hey," Sine asked, turning back towards the pony signing the form, "Where do you want the box?"
"Oh, just put it down anywhere," he distractedly replied, waving his hoof. "I'll take care of it."
"Got it." Turning around, he shouted at the heavy lifters. "Set her down anywhere, you two!"
With an audible thud, the pegasi dropped the box on the ground slightly to the side of the walkway. Ditzy, freshly unburdened, immediately started rubbing her back. Flying and lifting things simultaneously always did a number on her muscles, particularly the ones between her wings. Sighing as she felt her spine pop, she flew back up to the level of the truck, Tempest close behind. Silently, they waited for Sine to return so they could repeat the process at the next house.
~~~
"Aaaaaand, done!" the mare said, handing Sine back the piece of paper. Tucking it away in his satchel, the stallion stepped to the side and allowed Ditzy to hand the mare her package.
"Thank you, ma'am," he said, dipping his head slightly. "Have a good day."
"You too! Bye!" With that, the mare, now one parcel richer, closed the door, eager to free her new possession from its paper prison.
Flapping back up to the delivery truck, Sine took out another paper (he was very fond of documents) and crossed off the name on the very bottom. Nodding in satisfaction, he called out to the crew.
"Alright, fellas, we're done for the day! Take her home!"
"Wait!" a voice cried from inside the van. Tempest. "There's one more!"
"No way," Sine whispered doubtfully, flying towards the back door. "That was the last package on my list."
Once inside, Sine immediately spotted Tempest sitting at the end of the container. Squatting right next to him, apathetic to Sine's insistence on its nonexistence, was another cardboard box, sealed and in pristine condition. Huffing in annoyance, Sine stomped over to it, staring the cube down as if he could intimidate it into ceasing to be.
"See?" Tempest pointed out, unaware of the battle of wills taking place between pony and dried tree pulp.
"Yes, I do," Sine curtly replied. Resigned to the box's corporeality, he peered at the shipping address to see whom the box was to be delivered. At first, the label looked blank. After a second, he realized that it was blank.
No shipping address? he thought, scratching his head. On a whim, Sine picked up the box. It felt light. Too light. Shaking the box from side to side, the stallion was met with neither sound nor sensation of shifting weight.
"Dumb thing's empty," he grumbled, tossing the box back on the floor. "Stupid interns; ruined a perfectly good box! Boss is going to hear about this."
Tempest, by virtue of having ears, had heard Sine's irritated mumbles. Wondering how somepony could accidentally label, seal and load an empty box like that, he looked over at the cardboard interloper. It wasn't exactly a small box, after all. It was at least the size of a small child, and that's not exactly something you would misplace.
Hmmm, small child... Tempest thought, an idea already half-forming in his head. Darting out the back, Tempest caught up to Sine and tapped his shoulder.
"Hey, Sine," he began as the stallion looked at him impatiently, "Can I keep that box?"
Sine looked at him questioningly. After a moment of thought, he replied. "I suppose so. We can't reuse it now that it has the stickers and seals on it, so we'd probably just throw it away anyways. Go ahead and take it."
"Thanks, guy." thanked Tempest, turning back to grab his loot.
"If you don't mind me asking," Sine added, mild curiosity getting the better of him, "Why do you want it? What are you going to use it for?"
Tempest grinned. "I have an idea."
~~~
Sitting in the center of the parlour, Dinky was practicing her magic. Currently, she was trying to levitate a ball and a hoop at the same time, and make the ball pass through the hoop. It was a standard test of skill for young unicorns, teaching both multitasking and precision, two vital skills for manipulating the magical energies of the universe. Dinky, however, was having absolutely no trouble getting the ball through it's little metal goal; she had long since mastered levitating two things at the same time. For her, the main problem in this exercise was keeping the tools from bursting into flames.
Hearing a sudden knock at the door, Dinky jumped and dropped the spell, causing the little metal sphere and its partner ring to drop to the ground with a muffled clink. She quickly stomped out the small fire she had accidentally created, scorch mark blending in with the many similar patches on the rug, and cantered over to the door. Hopping up to the level of the window, she managed to see her mom and Tempest standing on the doorstep.
Enthusiastically, she unlocked the door. As soon as the two adults entered, the filly immediately tackle-hugged her mother, sending her staggering back half a pace at the surprise impact.
"Hi, mom!" she greeted happily. Before Ditzy could react, Dinky dropped to the floor and gave Tempest the same treatment. "Hi, Mistah Tempest!"
"Hello, Dinky," returned Tempest, looking down at the filly attached to his neck.
Ditzy chuckled quietly into her hoof. "Hello to you too, Muffin," she said, nosing her daughter's side. "Now let go; you don't want to choke him."
"'Kay," Dinky complied, releasing Tempest from her death grip.
"I'm going to go make some sandwiches," the mare added, heading towards the kitchen. "You two behave."
As her mother trotted off to make snacks, Dinky turned back to Tempest. For the first time since he came in the door, she noticed an object on his back. Cocking her head to the side, she tried to get a better glimpse of his mystery burden. Failing that, she looked up at him with a question in her big golden eyes.
"What's that?"
Grinning mischievously, Tempest flipped the box over his head and onto the floor in front of him. "Oh, just a box."
"What's in it?" Dinky asked, stepping forward.
"Why don't you look inside and find out?" he countered, popping the top of the box open with the ease of long practice.
With unusual caution, Dinky placed her front legs on the rim of the box. Peering in, her expression turned to confusion. "It's empty!"
"Oh, really?" Tempest questioned, voice like silk. "I'm pretty sure there's something in there. You just have to look closer."
In an attempt to get a better view, Dinky pulled herself up farther, back hooves leaving the ground. Despite her new height advantage, she still failed to see anything of interest in the cardboard vessel. "I still don't see anything," she pouted. "What's supposed to be in here?"
Unannounced to Dinky, Tempest had been slowly creeping closer. Smiling evilly, he whispered.
"Oh, just... a little filly!"
With that, Tempest knocked the box backwards, sending it and Dinky tumbling, the latter emitting a high-pitched 'eep!' of surprise. Thanks to Tempest's supreme mastery of the subtle art of box-tipping, Dinky landed on her rump just moments before the open ended side of the box came falling down on her, trapping her inside a brown corrugated prison.
Tempest was now laughing raucously to himself, finding his simple-yet-effective prank intensely humorous. Suddenly, he heard a strange noise, causing him to look up from his reverie. Glancing around for the source of the disturbance, his eyes caught movement in the form of the recently-filled box being nudged across the floor. This time, eyes on it, he managed to catch the experimental scoot of the cube as its occupant hesitantly pushed it from the inside. A few seconds later, a similar motion occurred, but in the opposite direction. After this second push, the box abruptly began sliding around the floor rapidly in wide, excited circles. Tempest, watching this with some sense of curiosity, was just starting to get dizzy when the box scraped to a halt.
"THIS IS THE BEST THING EVER!" a loud, but muffled voice called from beneath the brown container, before resuming it's frantic laps around the room.
Not long afterwards, Ditzy came back into the parlour, carrying a tray of several freshly-made sandwiches. What she saw, however, made her pause mid-stride. On the couch sat Tempest, grinning hugely and watching what appeared to be a living cardboard box scurry around on the floor. Said box was scampering in large circles, going dangerously fast and occasionally emitting a fillyish giggle of happiness.
Deciding to continue on with her original path of travel, Ditzy heading towards the sofa. Setting down the tray on the coffee table, she looked at Tempest with an eyebrow raised and a question in one eye, the other watching the rampaging package circle around on her floor.
Noticing her for the first time since she entered the room, Tempest saw her unasked inquiry. "This is hilarious," he chuckled, motioning towards the upside-down box. "She's been going at it for a solid two minutes."
"I assume my daughter is under there?"
Tempest nodded, and scooted over to give the mare some room to sit down. Accepting his invitation, Ditzy set herself down on the sofa, and turned to watch the Dinky-in-a-box scurry around the room. Taking one of the three sandwiches on the plate, she handed another to Tempest, who took it with a quiet 'thanks.'
Eventually, however, even Dinky's seemingly inexhaustible reserves of energy apparently ran dry, and the box slid to a quiet stop. Taking this as her cue, Ditzy took the plate with the remaining sandwich on it and set it on the floor in front of the now-still cardboard cube.
Hearing the clink of plate on floor, a small purplish snout peeked out from under the rim of the box, just enough to let the occupant see outside her corrugated domain. Upon seeing the snack placed not a foot away, the muzzle immediately withdrew. All was still for a moment, but suddenly the container leaped into the air in a predator-like fashion, coming down neatly over the food with a quiet thump. Immediately, animalistic sounds of feeding began emitting from beneath the cardboard cloak.
"Erm, Dinky," Ditzy started, concern etched on her brown, "Don't you want to, you know, come out of there to eat?"
"THERE IS NO DINKY!" came a booming yet squeaky voice. "I AM PYXIS, GODDESS OF THE BOX! ALL THAT IS SQUARE AND CARDBOARD IS MY DOMAIN! TREMBLE, MORTALS! TREMBLE!"
~~~
Abruptly, Celestia jolted up from her studies. Looking around, her brow furrowed in concern as she tried to identify what just startled her.
"Something wrong, 'Tia?" asked Luna, sitting on the other side of the library table. She had noticed her sister jump, and knew her well enough to see when she was agitated.
The Sun Goddess just shook her head, her ever-flowing mane quivering just slightly at the disturbance in its imaginary breeze. "I swear I just felt someone challenging our rule."
Luna just rolled her eyes. "Honestly, 'Tia," she admonished, "That's the third time this month you've said that. It's probably just all that spicy food you ate."
Celestia licked her lips fondly at the memory of tonight's dinner. "Hey, say what you want about Guongxian food, but they have the best flaming rice I've tasted in millennia."
~~~
"Come on, Dinky, it's time for bed," Ditzy pleaded, tapping the box with a hoof.
"NEVER!" the box shouted back, backing up a pace from the contact. "PYXIS REFUSES TO PARLEY WITH DISSENTERS!"
Ditzy pinched the bridge of her nose. "Dinky, it's been four hours. It's time to come out from under the box."
"PYXIS IS ETERNAL!"
Tempest, who had been watching (and laughing) on the sidelines as Ditzy argued with her 'imaginative' daughter, decided it was time to intervene. Trotting up to the box, he tapped it's top, causing it to flinch away again.
"Pyxis," he humored, "I think it's best that you go to bed now.
"...Why should we trust you?" the pseudo-goddess asked warily.
"Because you're out-ponied and out-gunned," he replied, thinking fast. "General Doo has you surrounded. I suggest a tactical compromise. Perhaps, in the future, you can gather your forces and lead an uprising and overthrow her. Continued resistance now, however, will only result in complete destruction."
The box was silent for a moment. Quicker than he could blink, the box lifted and Tempest found himself with a filly on his back, clinging tightly to his mane.
"Fine," she grumbled, going from megalomaniac to sweet little filly in an instant. "But you have to carry me."
Surprised by the turn of events, the stallion was nonetheless quick to react. "Fair enough," he agreed. "Come on."
As the two walked away, Ditzy just stared, cross-eyed and shocked. After a full few seconds, she managed to recover enough to remember the basic motor functions that allowed her to follow.
By the time the mare caught up, Dinky was already climbing off Tempest's back into her bed. Quickly trotting over to her side, Ditzy nuzzled her daughter, earning a huge yawn from the suddenly-exhausted filly.
"Good night, Muffin," cooed Ditzy, pulling the covers up to the unicorn's chest.
"G'night, mom," the filly answered tiredly. Turning over, she looked at Tempest expectantly.
Tempest, slightly surprised, realized what she was asking. Bending down, Tempest also nuzzled her head. "Good night, pipsqueak."
"'Night," Dinky yawned again, before rolling over and promptly falling asleep, leaving the two adults to tiptoe their way out of the room.
Before they left, both ponies turned around and looked at the sleeping filly. Snoring gently, there was no evidence of the shouting, vengeful goddess that had been present a few minutes prior.
"That was a very clever way to get her to go to bed," Ditzy whispered.
"I know," Tempest replied smugly.
"...If she grows up to be a war-leader, I'm blaming you."
"Aaaaand last one!" Tempest announced, dropping the paper onto the counter. Having just come back from his late-day deliveries, depositing his signed delivery confirmation forms left him smiling with a feeling of accomplishment. Ditzy, who had dropped off her forms just moments before, sat behind him, waiting patiently.
Boss swept the papers into a box using the same dismissive movements that Tempest had become familiar with over the past week. Forms 'properly' stored, the brown stallion looked up and almost gave the tiniest of smiles. "I guess it really is your last one, huh?" he stated, sitting straighter.
Tempest, who had been buckling his mailbag shut, glanced up. "Huh?"
"Well, you said you were staying for a week, right?"
"Yeah... Why?"
Boss looked at him strangely. "It's been a week, hasn't it?"
Upon hearing this, Tempest's eyes widened. He was right; it had been seven days. Tempest had barely even noticed the time passing. He was now considered recuperated enough to fly back to Hayton.
Ditzy, sitting in earshot, also started. Quickly, she felt her surprise being replaced by sadness. She had gotten used to Tempest staying with her. Waking up to the stallion running around and playing with Dinky had become a welcome and enjoyable part of her morning. The idea of him leaving made her ears droop.
Tempest, realizing the silence had stretched on for too long, decided to say something.
"Huh..."
Higher brain functions cease to function properly under shock.
The brown stallion snorted, starting to clear the day's detritus from his desk. "So, when're you leaving?" he asked with his characteristic bluntness.
"Erm," Tempest hesitated, glancing nervously over his shoulder at Ditzy. "I don't know. I haven't thought about it."
It was true. While, during the beginning of the week, Tempest had thought frequently of going home, those ideas had quickly been pushed to the back of his mind. Most of the stallion's time had been spent enjoying himself with Ditzy and Dinky. Now, all of the sudden, the deadline was sitting on his doorstep. The knowledge that he was to be off soon felt as sudden and jarring as crashing into a glass wall at Mach 2
Boss quickly finished his tidying and made to leave. "Well," he said, "If you ever stop by again, be sure to visit. You're not bad, rookie."
Absently, Tempest nodded. Turning to the exit, he was followed closely by a despondent-looking Ditzy. Nosing the door open, the stallion lead the way into the cool late-afternoon air.
Electing to walk home this time, the pegasi traveled in awkward silence, avoiding the other pony's eyes. Both felt a potent sense of sadness at Tempest's imminent departure. Similarly, both were hesitant to vocalize their feelings and break the quiet that had grown between them like a thick, amorphous weed.
Eventually, Ditzy decided play hedge-clipper. "So, I guess you're all better now, huh?" she hesitantly began, trying to keep the melancholy out of her voice.
Eager to dispel the uncomfortable air, Tempest nodded. "Yeah," he agreed, faking cheerfulness. "Time sure flew by quickly, huh?"
"It really did," the mare muttered, looking down. Suddenly, her eyes lit up. "We should celebrate!"
"Good idea!" he concurred, getting genuinely excited. "What should we do?"
Ditzy 'hmm'd in thought, placing a hoof under her chin, quickly returning the appendage to its original purpose of walking. While one eye traced the path of a nearby squirrel, the other took note of the sun's position in the sky. "I think there's enough daylight left for a picnic," she suggested, nodding towards the celestial body.
Tempest stopped to clap his hooves together in excitement. "Perfect!" he exclaimed, thankful for something to take his mind off of his cloudy thoughts. "Where should we go?"
"How about the park?" the mare suggested. After Tempest agreed, she added. "Since it's for you, you should decide what to bring."
Tempest only had to think for a moment. "How about something from that big gingerbread building that smells really good?" He had noticed it while on his route one day, and had became entranced by it's strangely alluring aroma of cotton candy and explosions. "I assume they sell food?"
"That's Sugarcube Corner and, yes, they do," Ditzy replied, a small grin on her face. "They sell candy, pastries, and anything else you feel guilty about after eating."
"Sounds like my kind of place," the stallion quipped, licking his lips.
Ditzy quietly chuckled. "Probably. How about you go get Dinky and I'll get the food?"
"Deal!" agreed Tempest, giving a humorous salute. "See you there!" With that, he flew off, not realizing that he would have to carry the little unicorn-shaped explosive on his back.
Ditzy, for her part, watched the eager stallion flap off with a smile. As soon as he disappeared over a rooftop, however, she felt her gloomy feelings hit her like a wet, soggy mattress. Despite the fact that they were about to have a celebration, she couldn't shake the knowledge that the stallion would be leaving soon. Even though he had only been there for a little over a week, it felt like she had known him for years, and him leaving made her throat constrict.
The pegasus shook her head and pushed the dreary thoughts to the back of her mind. She couldn't dwell on such things now; she had treats to buy! Turning, she headed off to Sugarcube Corner, mentally bracing herself for the imminent encounter with the only pony she knew that was more of a handful than her daughter: Pinkie Pie.
~~~
A couple hours and several delicious pastries later, the sun had set and the picnic basket was empty. Tempest and Ditzy were lying on the blanket the stallion had thought to grab while at the house, watching as Dinky burned off her sugar high by chasing fireflies and unintentionally leaving scorched hoofprints on the ground. The stallion was stretched out on the ground, his head resting on his front legs as he made sure that the little filly didn't accidentally set the entire world on fire. Next to him, Ditzy was simultaneously keeping one eye on her daughter and stargazing.
Satisfied that the planet was not in danger of immediate and cataclysmic conflagration, Tempest turned to look at the mare. "Thanks for doing all this," he said. "I really appreciate it."
"Oh, it's no problem," Ditzy replied, waving a hoof. "It's a nice night to have a picnic, and Dinky always loves-"
"No, I mean for everything," Tempest interrupted, sitting up. "Letting me stay at your house, helping me find a job, everything. I don't think I can ever repay you."
Ditzy felt herself blush at the praise. "It's nothing, really," she insisted. "Anypony would have done the same thing."
Tempest shook his head. "Not in Hayton they wouldn't. If somepony had found my lying on the streets in that city, I'd be lucky if they had gotten a doctor."
Ditzy was taken aback. "That's terrible."
The stallion chuckled. "Yeah, that's why I take so many traveling jobs. Ponies there aren't exactly the nice sort."
Suddenly, Ditzy's eyes lit up. "There's something we can do!" she exclaimed, beaming. "We could take a delivery job!"
Tempest looked confused. "What, together?"
"Yeah!" she continued, looking excited. "It's perfect! It'll be like a finale, and I can make sure you're ready to fly!" Lowering her voice, she added. "I trust Nurse Redheart with my life, but I'd still rather see for myself. It would be kind of dumb for you to leave and immediately get yourself injured again." To herself, she also admitted that she wanted to delay his departure as long as possible.
Tempest could feel himself warming to the idea. "Alright," he conceded, "Sounds like a good idea." Suddenly, he gave a devilish grin. "And it means that I get to watch you try to keep up."
Before Ditzy could give a witty retort, Dinky charged over and tackled the stallion to the ground. Hitting the ground with an 'oof,' Tempest watched as the filly hopped up and down on his chest, leaving small sooty hoofprints with every impact.
"OhmygoshyouguyshavetocomeoverandseeallthebugsIfound!" she rattled, vibrating from all the energy she had absorbed from the sweets. "TherewasabunchnearthisbushandwhenIwalkedbytheyalltookoffandnowtheresthisbigcloudanditssoamazing!" She punctuated this outburst with a high-pitched giggle, and then dashed off, leaving two stunned pegasi in her wake.
Slowly picking himself up off the ground, Tempest brushed off the ash imprints left on his chest. "How long until she crashes and it's safe to be near her again?"
Ditzy thought for a moment. "I'd say we probably have ten minutes before she collapses," she calculated, "Then we'll have to carry her home."
"I'll do it," Tempest offered. "I'm already covered in soot; a little more won't hurt."
~~~
"A bounty board job?"
Hesitantly, the brown stallion scratched his head. The 'bounty board,' an affectionate nickname for the table containing non-express delivery jobs, was filled with forms detailing long-distance commissions. While normally the board was left to be picked over by the distance specialists, there was no rule stating that the jobs were forbidden to anypony. In fact, many of the common route-workers occasionally took up one of the well-paying deliveries, whether for a change of pace or a sudden need for a boost in income. Of course, many of them came back from their little 'vacation' with sore wings and a great need for a nap, proclaiming their determination to never do anything like that again. Something that never failed to amuse the specialists.
Tempest nodded vigorously, while Ditzy more calmly answered. "Yes. For both of us."
The pegasus internally winced. Reorganizing schedules to account for for one missing pony on a delivery splurge was a hassle on its own; doing so for two would most certainly be a paperwork-flavored migraine. Still, he couldn't in all good conscience refuse; the pair seemed to really want the trip.
Boss sighed in resignation. "All right," he grumbled. "But you owe me one, Ditzy."
The mare smiled in appreciation. "Thanks, Boss!" she said cheerfully, trotting past him.
"Yeah, thanks!" Tempest added, close behind.
The stallion watched the two canter away for a moment, before turning back to his desk. Taking out a pen, he groaned inwardly. Might as well get started, he thought, preparing to drown himself in tapes of all shades of red.
"Now," began Tempest, peering closely at the list of available jobs, "Since we're both taking a job, we're going to need two packages to the same location."
Ditzy, sitting closely behind him, nodded. Since Tempest was the expert in this area, she was content to let him do the picking. Of course, she thought, If everything is that obvious, I could probably figure this out myself.
"We want something close by," the stallion continued, heedless of the mare's internal voice, "And nothing too heavy. After all, you're new to cross-nation flight, and we don't want you getting exhausted."
Ditzy grunted an affirmative. Still all very simple.
"Also, since it's early in the year, winds will tend to come more consistently from the east. Most urban or domestic pegasi won't notice, but since we're going to be flying for hours at a time over open country, it's a significant factor. I noticed you tend to favour your right wing pretty heavily, so we shouldn't go north, or you'll tire out much more quickly. If we can, we should find something to the west or south-west. That way, we can get a good tailwind and cut a few hours off our trip."
OK, much more complicated now. Subconsciously, Ditzy tucked her right wing tighter to her body. She had never noticed herself favouring it, but apparently it had been evident enough for Tempest to notice. Silently, she wondered if all long-haulers thought like this.
"I took the liberty of looking at a weather report earlier." Tempest added. "There's a cold front heading west from below us, so strait south is out. Judging by it's speed, though, it shouldn't get more than a few miles past where we are now, longitude wise." Tempest harrumphed and glared at the board. "All of that really limits our options."
Ditzy remained quietly seated. It was strange seeing Tempest being so professional. She never would have guessed that so much planning and calculating could go into delivering a package. They had covered the basics of long-distance in training, of course, but that had mostly been about pacing and maintaining manners in foreign places. This detail surpassed all of the knowledge that Ditzy had obtained and forgotten from all those years ago.
Briefly, she wondered if she should add something. No, she thought, he knows what he's doing.
As if he could hear her, Tempest looked over his shoulder. "Well, come on then," he insisted, Nodding towards the board. "You look too."
Hesitantly, Ditzy walked up. Keeping Tempest's suggestions in mind, she began examining the offerings. On each sheet of paper was the package's destination, weight, size, and the reward for delivery. Bigger, heavier packages to far-away places cost more to ship than small and light ones. Keeping this in mind, Ditzy immediately skipped over some of the ones that had high pay, quietly astonished at just how many bits some of them returned. No wonder most of the specialists she knew could afford to have so many vacations.
While scanning the listings, one of Ditzy's eyes alighted on a familiar name. Appleoosa.
"Hey," she said, tapping Tempest's shoulder, "How about this one?"
The stallion looked closely at the note. "Appleoosa," he muttered, mentally picturing it's location relative to Ponyville. He smiled. "South southwest. Perfect!" Turning back to the other jobs, he began scanning them quickly. "Now we just need to find another one headed there, and- Ah ha!"
Victoriously, he tore the paper from the board. Motioning for Ditzy to take the other one, he headed towards the doorway to the back room. Ripping off the sheet, Ditzy followed close behind.
Sitting at a desk piled high with forms, Sine Heer watched the pair approach with an expression of minor curiosity. As the two set their respective papers in front of him, however, his face lit up with a wide grin. Eagerly, he reached for his favorite quill, one that suspiciously resembled his cutie mark. He quickly skimmed the words on the pages, before looking back up.
Quill expertly held in the side of his mouth, he asked. "Going for a commission, eh? Both of you?" Two nods. "Alright then. First things first, we need to take care of some paperwork."
With a grin one might find on a foal in a sweets shop, Sine started filling out forms containing all manner of legal mumbo-jumbo. He crossed 't's, dotted 'i's, and wrote in dates with the efficiency and speed of a clockwork printing press. Pausing only occasionally to ask for clarification of a name or year, two identical piles of paper were quickly sorted out.
Setting his recently-finished work to the side, Sine Heer turned towards the ponies in front of him, looking at them much less fondly than his ink-and-tree-pulp friends. "Now, before I let you go, we have protocol to go over."
Tempest rolled his eyes. "I know," he grumbled. Ditzy, less familiar with this process, simply watched.
Sine cleared his throat, and then began speaking in a tone that showed tedious and meticulous memorization. "As mailponies, you have the important job of transporting goods across the land and beyond. That being, you are responsible for communications between ponies, and other creatures, of all kind. Your duties are paramount to maintaining relationships with others, from the mightiest of nations to the most common peasant. As such, the epitome of manners, politeness, and civility is expected of you. To make sure you are aware of what is required of you, you are now required to recite Mailpony Rules One, Two, Five, and Six."
Tempest, having gone through this every time he delivered something, was aptly prepared to answer by the time Sine finished his monotone monologue. Ditzy, however, was caught off guard by the sudden request for rule recitation. Fortunately for her, ingrained responses took over and she found herself speaking after only an almost impercievable hesitation.
"Rule One," the two began in unison, "Never lose your bags. They contain items that are the sole property of the recipient, and are to be guarded at all costs." Sine quickly checked off a box on a new form. "Rule Two, let nothing stop you. Your duty as couriers is sacred, and neither inclement weather, physical barriers, nor personal failings shall prevent you from completing your duty." Another scratch on paper, another irritated look from Tempest. "Rule Five, never divulge the contents of your bags. The objects in question are for, and only for, the recipient." Ditzy coughed, wishing for some water. "Rule Six, you are the links between places. On your heads rests the responsibility of maintaining connections, so act appropriately and be kind."
With several mouthfuls of memorized tenets out of the way, Sine checked off the last box with satisfaction. Placing the paper neatly on top of the pile of other, equally-mundane documents, he waved a hoof at Tempest and Ditzy.
"Taken care of," he said, already pulling out even more forms. "You can go now. Packages are in the back."
Tempest, needing no further invitation, eagerly left the dry stallion to drown himself in his beloved ink. Ditzy, grabbing both job forms, followed behind.
Catching up to him, Ditzy handed the now sheepish-looking stallion his paper. "Do you have to go through that every time you get a job?" she asked, watching as he put the sheet in his bag.
Tempest shrugged. "Depends on how much the forms guy likes you." Snorting disdainfully, he added. "Of course, judging by how dry that guy is, he'd probably make his wife submit everything in triplicate."
"Hey," Ditzy protested, "Sine isn't mean, he just... um..."
"Has a library stamp instead of a heart?" Tempest finished.
"...Fine. I'll give you that one."
~~~
"So, where are we taking Dinky?" Tempest asked, flapping alongside the cross-eyed mare.
Ditzy, the filly on her back waving her legs in the air like tree branches in a storm, raised her voice to be heard over the wind. "My niece Sparkler's house. Dinky is going to be staying there until we get back." She paused to chuckle slightly. "Even though they're cousins, you'd think they were sisters for how close they are."
The small unicorn clapped her hooves together in glee. "Yay! Sleepover at Sissy's house!"
Tempest laughed and reached over to ruffle Dinky's mane. "Just promise to not burn down her house, alright?"
"Oh, don't worry about that," Ditzy assuaged. "Sparkler always puts away anything flammable when Dinky comes over."
Several minutes later, the group touched down outside of a small, well-kept hut. A cobbled path lead up to a quaint white door surrounded by a small, colorful garden. Trotting up to the porch, Ditzy rang the doorbell with her nose. As the door swung open, Dinky hopped off of her mother's back and onto the ground.
"Oh, you're right on time!" came a voice from inside. Quickly, the source of the sound stepped out into the sunlight, where it was revealed that the owner was a pink unicorn mare with a scruffy purple mane. As she stepped fully out into the light of day, the diamonds on her flank sparkled and shined just like real gems.
Smiling broadly in welcome, the mare wrapped Ditzy in a strong hug. "Hey there, Aunt D," she greeted, tight embrace causing the pegasus to cough.
Returning the hug, Ditzy managed to wheeze. "It's good to see you too, Sparkler."
Releasing Ditzy from her death grip (and returning to the mare her ability to breathe), Sparkler looked at the other pegasus present. Eyebrows furrowed, she cocked her head to the side as she tried to answer an unspoken question.
Huh, thought Tempest, Must run in the family.
"Rider, right?" asked Sparkler, looking him up and down. "Tempest Rider?" She held out her hoof, staring at him as if daring him to take it.
A bit confused by her attitude, Tempest nonetheless complied. Giving her hoof a firm shake, he nodded. "Right. Nice to meet you, Sparkler."
The mare raised an eyebrow at him, and set her leg back on the ground. Just as Tempest was wondering if there was something on his nose, she smiled. Turning to a now-recovered Ditzy, she spoke. "Confident. I like him."
Ditzy rolled one of her eyes at her niece. Before she could give a sarcastic reply about how relieved she was that Tempest had passed her inspection, however, Dinky bounded up to to the front of the group.
"Sissy, Sissy!" she squeaked, jumping up and down. "We're gonna have a sleepover!"
"Well, hello there, Runt," joked Sparkler, grabbing Dinky in a headlock and giving her a noogie, causing the filly to squeal in delight. "How's my favorite little pyromaniac doing? Explode anything good lately?"
"Uh-huh!" Dinky chirped. After Sparkler let her go, she sat down on her rump and cheerfully started counting off objects on her hooves. "There was a pencil, some marbles, my history textbook, a little tree, and one of Mama's drinking glasses!"
Sparkler whistled. "Wow. You're getting better at controlling that, huh? That's not half the amount of stuff as last time."
At this moment, Ditzy stepped forward. Taking Dinky's overnight bag off of her back, the mare passed it over to the small unicorn. "Sorry, Muffin," she said, "But we have to hurry. Why don't you go put your bag inside?"
Nodding, Dinky grabbed her pack. As she trotted inside, Ditzy turned to Sparkler. Making sure the filly was out of earshot, she whispered to the unicorn.
"I trust you've prepared?" she hissed.
Sparkler nodded. "Yep. I have three fire extinguishers at the ready and I put flame retardant spells on everything I could. Not even Dinky could burn this place down."
"Don't tempt fate," Ditzy warned. Raising her voice back to normal level, she continued. "And remember, no parties..."
Sparkler sighed in exasperation. "I know..."
"No playing 'Biggest Boom Wins,'"
"Spoilsport..." the unicorn grumbled, pawing at the wooden porch.
"And no stallions over."
"One time!" Sparkler protested. Turning to look at Tempest, she continued. "One time a stallion came over, and she never lets me forget it!"
"I remember him!" Dinky chimed, fate choosing that particular moment to let her waltz back into the conversation. "He had tight socks and a funny belt!"
The result on the conversation was immediate. Sparkler glared at her younger cousin, blushing furiously. Ditzy, face scrunched up, was struggling to contain her dredged-up anger. Tempest, meanwhile, was trying to prevent himself from chocking to death on his own laughter.
"I've told you before," Sparkler insisted, "I didn't invite him! It wasn't my fault!"
"Uh-huh..." growled Ditzy. This was obviously an argument they have had many times before.
"I'm serious!" the unicorn continued. "One of my friends must have ordered him and sent him over as a prank!"
"Then why do I keep seeing you with him?" asked Ditzy, seething.
At this, Sparkler immediately lost her aggressive posture. Rubbing the back of her head, she mumbled. "Because he's nice..."
Before Ditzy could respond, she felt Dinky nosing at her shins. Looking down, she saw her daughter staring back up at her with big, soulful eyes.
"Mama," the filly asked, "What's wrong?"
Ditzy bit her tongue and swallowed her anger. Sighing, she smiled at Dinky. "Nothing, Muffin. It's just grown-up talk."
Dinky, silently accepting this as an answer, moved on to a different question. "Mama, when are you coming back?"
Smiling, Ditzy bent down to nuzzle her daughter on the head. "We'll be back tomorrow. We're just going to Appleoosa."
Suddenly, Dinky wrapped her arms around Ditzy's neck. "Promise," she mumbled, burying her head in her mother's mane.
Ditzy was caught off guard by this sudden request, but nonetheless returned the filly's hug. "I promise, Dinky," she soothed.
Dropping down, Dinky gave a similar treatment to Tempest. Hanging from his neck like a living necklace, she said. "You too," she insisted.
Tempest, surprised, stumbled back a pace. Recovering quickly, he awkwardly patted the filly on the back. "Don't worry," he assuaged, "I'll make sure she gets back."
"Thanks!" chirped Dinky happily, displaying the jarring shift of tone that only the young or unstable are capable of. Skipping over to Sparkler, she headbutted her cousin in the chest. "C'mon, Sissy! It's almost time for lunch!"
As the filly trotted through the open door, three confused adults watched her. Sparkler, the first to recover, turned to look at the two baffled pegasi before her. Hesitantly, she spoke.
"Erm," she began, "Well then. See you tomorrow I guess. Safe trip." With that, she spun around and, with no small amount of trepidation, followed her smaller relative into the house.
Ditzy and Tempest stood on the porch for a good ten seconds more before the latter shrugged. Nudging Ditzy to wake her up, the stallion took to the air. Soon after, he heard the wing-beats of the mare come up beside him, and adjusted his pace accordingly.
The pair flew in silence for several minutes, sun burning bright above them as they made their way home. Ditzy seemed contemplative, one eye still trying to look back towards her niece's house. Seeing this, Tempest tapped her on the shoulder, bringing her mind back to the here-and-now.
"Hey," he asked, "You OK?"
Slowly, the mare nodded. "Yeah," she said. "It's just that Dinky doesn't usually act like that. I'm a little worried."
"Don't be," the stallion insisted. "You're her mother; she's just anxious about you being away. She loves you, after all."
Ditzy cracked a small smile. "You're probably right. Thanks."
"No problem," Tempest replied, grinning. Deciding to move to a different topic, he began. "So, your niece is dating a-"
Quickly, Ditzy threw a hoof in front of his mouth. Looking at him dangerously, she growled. "Not. Another. Word."
Satisfied, Tempest filled in the last box on his imaginary pre-flight check-list. All necessities were accounted for; they had food to last them until they got to Appleoosa, bits to purchase a room once they got there, and, of course, their respective cargoes, without which would result in a delivery most shameful and unsuccessful.
"Tempest?" Ditzy asked. "Not that I'm questioning your experience or anything, but shouldn't we have gone over this before we left?"
The stallion felt himself flushing. "I know what I'm doing," he insisted, flying further ahead in an attempt to avoid more questions.
A futile effort, as it turned out. Flapping harder, Ditzy quickly caught up to him. "Tempest," she chided, "Did you forget to check our stuff before leaving?"
Tempest looked away shamefully. He grumbled something which Ditzy felt could be interpreted as 'Maybe.'
"Come on," she gently ribbed, "Everyone makes mistakes. It's nothing to be ashamed about."
The stallion frowned. "It's different for this," he mumbled. "Forgetting something on a big trip can be catastrophic."
"What," Ditzy asked, laughing, "Are Celestia and Luna going to make meteors come down on our heads because we didn't bring enough dried apricots?"
"Ha ha," laughed Tempest sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Okay, so maybe not 'catastrophic.' How about just 'very bad?'"
"Elaborate."
He rubbed his chin in thought. "Well, the first time I made a long-distance delivery I forgot to bring extra food. I had to use my lodging bits to keep myself from starving. Ended up sleeping beneath a bridge." He shuddered. "Never forgot food again."
Ditzy winced. "Ouch. Sounds nasty."
"It was. There was garbage everywhere and some homeless pony kept touching my leg."
Now the mare looked confused. "O... kay. That's strange." She shook her head to clear the odd thoughts. "If that's true, why did you forget to check our bags this time?"
Sheepishly, the stallion looked anywhere but Ditzy. "Well, this is the first time I've ever flown with somepony else. I only checked my bags."
"Is that all?" Ditzy asked. "That's not bad. That's actually pretty reasonable."
"Yes, I know," Tempest sighed, "But it's such a rookie mistake. If anypony else found out, I'd be the laughing stock of the bounty board."
"Oh, quit moping," she teased, jabbing him in the side. "Everypony messes up every now and then. I would know."
"Yeah, but most mistakes don't end up with us sharing a garbage-bed with some very touchy hobos," he grumbled.
Ditzy swiveled her eyes, opting not to respond. Taking this as an invite for a change in topic, Tempest asked, "So, has Sparkler foalsat Dinky before?"
The mare nodded. "Yep, all the time. Like I said, those two are like sisters."
"What do you think they're up to now?"
~~~
"Dinky! Get down off of that cupboard!"
"Nuh-uh! Not until you get off the fridge!"
Gritting her teeth, Sparkler dug her heels harder into the cold steel of her refrigerator and pushed with all her might. In response, the glow around her horn intensified, causing the corresponding blob of magical energy around the metallic sphere in the room's center to turn slightly more purple.
Dinky, sitting on a flame-retardant cupboard on the other side of the room, felt sweat drip down her face. Grimacing, she put even more power behind her spell, trying to force the ball past the flag on Sparkler's side of the kitchen. Slowly, tantalizingly, the orb began to inch its way away from her, trailing sparks and smoke where her magic lost focus.
"Heh, you're getting pretty good at this, Dinks," Sparkler admitted. Suddenly, she flashed a wide grin. "But not good enough!"
Dinky felt the massive surge of energy from her cousin before she saw its effects, filling her with a sense of dread even before the contested object began jerkily moving towards her. She huffed, and she puffed, and she put all of her magical power behind stopping the ball, but it still continued it's sporadic advance.
Sparkler, assured of her victory, allowed herself a devious smile. The smug grin was quickly wiped from her face as she felt an all-too-familiar sensation begin to build in her chest. Panicking, the mare tried to stifle the urge. In, vain, it seemed, as the feeling only continued growing in proportion with her ball's progress across the room.
"AAACHOO!
Several things happened at once. One, the force of Sparkler's sneeze disrupted her concentration, and thus her flow of magic. Two, Dinky, unaffected by her cousin's diaphragmal spasm, failed to cut off the flow of energy through her horn. Three, the ball, free from one half of its active forces, sped along the path of least resistance.
Right towards Sparkler.
The mare, recovering from her sneak-attack sneeze, looked up just in time to see the small sphere barreling towards her, trailing magic and flames. Everything slowed down. She couldn't move, she couldn't think, all she could do was watch with a growing sense of primal terror as the magically-charged projectile sped towards her at Mach 1.
*THUNK*
"Sparkler!" cried Dinky, leaning towards her cousin. "Are you okay?"
Sparkler, who had miraculously not fallen off the fridge, was currently sprawled on her back, gripping the place where the ball had impacted her with her hooves. Right between the eyes. Ouch.
"I'm fine..." she managed to groan, rolling over onto her stomach. "The only thing hurt is my pride." Pushing herself up, she winced. "Okay, that's a lie. My face hurts pretty bad too."
Dinky looked down and scuffed her hooves. "Sorry..."
Sparkler shook her head, cringing as the movement made her head throb. That was definitely going to leave a bruise. "Don't worry, Dinky, it's not your fault."
Worries assuaged, Dinky asked the next thing on her mind. "...So does that mean I won?"
Sparkler grinned ruefully. "Fine. But we're playing two out of three. And if you melt or vaporize the ball, you automatically lose, alright?"
"Aw..."
~~~
"...Hopefully nothing too dangerous."
Tempest, satisfied with the answer, looked into the sky to check the time. He was surprised to see that it was almost noon. Mentally charting their position, the stallion figured that they could stop for lunch.
"Hey, Ditzy," he called. "It's about time we stop for food."
"Got it!" she returned. Secretly, she was relieved. While she was loathe to admit it, her wings were very sore and she would greatly appreciate a rest.
Gliding downwards, the pair spotted a lone-standing tree. Settling themselves in its shade, they began taking out their food. It is probably fortunate that they saw this tree when they did, for it was one of the last ones before the real wasteland began. The next time they would see foliage-based shade would be when they hit the extensive apple orchards of Appleoosa.
While the train to said frontier town usually took at least an overnight trip, pegasus flight was much faster. With the lack of other stops and the ability to fly over obstacles, a trained distance flier could make the journey in a little under half a day. Doing some quick estimations in his head, Tempest figured that they they would arrive at town just before sunset, barring any surprises.
"Erm, Tempest?" Ditzy asked, waving a hoof in front of his face. "Are you going to eat or just stare at your food?"
Startled out of his reverie, the stallion jumped. "Huh? Oh, sorry," he apologized. "Just doing some math."
Ditzy quirked an eyebrow at him. "Math?"
Tempest rolled his eyes. "Alright, not math math, just guessing-math," he snorted, pulling out the rest of his lunch. "We should get there in a few hours."
The mare nodded and went back to her delicious sandwich. Before her nutritional package could reach her mouth, however, she spotted something unusual lying next to her companion's assorted foodstuffs.
"Um, Tempest?" she questioned, for the second time that minute. "Is that... instant coffee?"
"Hmm?" the stallion replied, looking up from rummaging in his bag. Following one of her eyes, he saw the shiny plastic package she was currently examining. "Oh, yeah. That it is."
"...Did you bring a coffee maker with you?"
Tempest scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. Why would I do that? Those things are heavy."
"Then why do you have it?"
"Um, for lunch? Duh?"
Ditzy, confused, cocked her head. "How can you drink coffee without a coffee maker?"
Rolling his eyes, the stallion gave a small smirk. Quickly, he snatched up the package and tore off the top. With one swift motion, he dumped the entire contents of the bag into his open mouth. Ditzy, wide eyed, could only cringe as he began grinding the fine powder between his teeth.
Taking a swig from his water bottle, Tempest grinned. "Like that."
Ditzy stared, her face showing a combination of shock, disgust, and admiration. "That... was very strange."
Tempest chortled. "You should see some of the other guys; they practically breathe this stuff." Nodding towards his bag, he added. "I've got another pack, if you want some."
The mare visibly recoiled. "No, no, I'm good," she laughed nervously. "You can have your strange eating habits, I'll stick to my sandwich."
Tempest shrugged. "Suit yourself. But believe me; if you do long hauls, you learn to love caffeine. It's a fact of nature."
~~~
One meal later, the pair were back in the air, Tempest much more perky from his caffeine buzz. With the wind at their tails, the pegasi made great time. In fact, they arrived at Appleoosa a full half hour before Tempest predicted. Looking below, they could see the town was constructed in classic frontier-town fashion. There was a long main street that lead all the way through town, strait as an arrow, with all the important shops, services, gathering places, and, of course, the obligatory saloon lining its edges like looming guards. Everything was faithfully depicted in the old-timey settler pony style, with all the wood, large signs, and rump-smacking doors one could ask for. Off in the distance, past some tall rock formations, a picturesque apple orchard stretched as far as the eye could see. It almost looked like it was pulled strait out of a postcard.
Touching down outside the rustic-looking post office, the stallion turned to his companion. "Alright," he began. "My package goes here. You want to come in?"
Ditzy shook her head. "Nah. You go ahead; I'll wait here."
As soon as the stallion had disappeared behind the old-style saloon doors, however, Ditzy let out an explosive breath. Panting heavily, she frantically looked around the wide street for anything she could use to quench her thirst. Spotting a metal trough outside of a farrier's shop, she dashed over as fast as her sore legs would allow. Once there, she promptly dunked her entire head below the surface, taking great gulps as she felt the water cool her sweaty face. Cringing at the water's taste, a mix of old metal and feet, she nonetheless swallowed the water as fast as she could without choking. Once her lungs began to burn, she resurfaced, resuming her panting and looking like a half-drowned dog. Shaking her head in a vain attempt to dry her mane, she hurriedly cantered back over to the post office.
While she would never admit it to her friend's face, she was dead tired. Her wings were beyond sore, and she swore she could feel every one of her feathers pulse with pain. At this point, she was basically holding herself up with nothing but strong will and a brave face. After all the stick she gave him for having trouble waking up early, she didn't think she could bear to see the smug grin he would give her when he saw how utterly exhausted she was.
Speaking of smiles of the Tempest variety, one was currently walking back out of the post office, attached to the face of a familiar stallion. Of course, this grin was less smug and more one of satisfaction of a job well done. As he trotted over, he immediately noticed Ditzy's sopping wet head. Much to her dismay.
"Ditzy?" he asked, concerned. "Why are you dripping?"
"Oh, I got thirsty," she lied, nodding her head in a random direction in hopes that there was a water source that way. "But when I got there, I tripped and fell in. Silly me."
He bought it. She mentally sighed in relief as he shrugged dismissively. "Careful next time," he cautioned. "We don't want you getting hurt."
"I'll try not to drown in any buckets."
Rolling his eyes, Tempest sarcastically laughed. "Ha ha. Anyways, we still have to deliver your package."
Taking that as her cue, Ditzy opened up her saddlebags and removed the box in question. Moving the label in close and closing one eye, she managed to make out the name and address.
"Braeburn Apple," she announced. "And he lives..."
"...Right next to the saloon."
Standing outside their destination, the two ponies prepared to knock on the door. The house itself was fairly typical of Appleoosa: wood, old-fashioned windows, an abundance of apple-themed decorations, etc. One major difference was the color. While most of the other buildings in town opted for more muted shades of brown or tan, whether from stylistic choice or dust, Braeburn's abode was painted a garish yellow color. Potted plants bloomed on the porch, despite the oppressive heat and sand, providing more bright splotches of color to the house that already stood out in the desert like a mime in a rainbow factory. On the door rested a brass door knocker shaped like an apple, being of questionable use, considering the door was the kind that swung open. The smell of fresh apples wafted out of the open windows, providing a rather stark contrast with the odor of salt and sweat coming from the adjacent saloon.
"I guess this is the place," spoke Ditzy, one eye reading the package and the other admiring the home's tasteful choice in paneling. Walking up to the front door, she pondered on whether to use the knocker or just call. Her decision was made for her, however, as a yellow stallion in a cowpony hat and stylish vest burst through the entryway like he had been shot out of a cannon.
"Visitors!" he shouted, jumping for joy. Coming uncomfortably close, he grinned in a way that was both enthusiastic and creepy. "Howdy! And welcome to AAAAAAA-"
"Braeburn..." interrupted a threatening voice. Turning around, all three ponies saw a gray stallion with an impressive mustache and a silver star on his chest. Said stallion was currently glaring at Braeburn, who was looking very intimidated indeed. "What did ah say before?"
"N-no scaring the tourists," Braeburn laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his head. "Sorry, boss." Satisfied, the gray stallion nodded and walked away, probably off to do manly things.
Once he was gone, Braeburn coughed. "Eh he, sorry 'bout that," he said at a much more reasonable volume. Extending a hoof, he gave both Ditzy and Tempest a firm shake. "Anyways, mah name's Braeburn. How can ah help ya?"
"Well, Mr. Apple," Ditzy began, "We're here to deliver a package to you."
At this, the stallion cocked his head. "Really? Huh, that's odd. Ah ain't expectin' anything." Shrugging, his face returned to a manic grin. "Oh well; ah always enjoy getting parcels!"
Tempest removed a sheet of paper from his bag and passed it to Ditzy. "Sign here, please."
Taking a hitherto unnoticed pen, Braeburn quickly scrawled his signature, even managing to make the 'B' look like a small apple. While the pegasus went to store the paper in the confines of her bag, the cowpony immediately set about eviscerating the package's top. Once the container's lid was reduced to pile of shredded tape and cardboard, he gave a foalish squeal of delight, startling both of the other ponies present.
"COOKIES!" he yelled, plunging his head deep into the box. From within the confines of his rectangular heaven, Braeburn gave off an alarming series of eating noises. Amid the crunches, smacks, and slurps, the mailponies caught each others' eyes, and saw that they both were thinking the same thing: should they stay and watch the strange spectacle, or back away slowly?
Just as they were about to quietly retreat, the noises halted and Braeburn resurfaced, face covered in chocolate and hat still miraculously perched on his head. "Woo," he exclaimed, "Them's some good treats!"
"We are glad to see you are satisfied, sir," replied Ditzy in a business-like tone. "We hope you enjoy your... cookies."
Seeing the two making to leave, Braeburn dashed in front of them. "Now wait just an apple-pickin' minute," he protested, barring their way. "Y'all can't leave yet! Ah haven't properly thanked ya!"
"Sir, I assure you, that is not necessary." This time, it was Tempest who spoke.
"Nonsense!" insisted Braeburn, stomping a hoof. "It's the least ah can do for bringin' me cookies!" Rubbing his chin in thought, a light-bulb flashed above the stallion's head. "I know! How about ah treat you to a few rounds over at the Salt Lick? On me!"
"Um, sir-"
"Braeburn." "Braeburn. I don't know if that's a good idea. We have a long flight tomorrow , and getting ourselves dehydrated the night before probably isn't the best idea."
"Oh, don't worry," the vested stallion replied, waving away their concerns. "It's just a few cubes! Just make sure ya don't overdo it!"
Sensing that he wasn't going to give up, the two pegasi looked at each other. Reluctantly, they both nodded. Immediately, Braeburn popped up behind them, and started nudging them along.
"Well, come on then!" he said, trotting past them now that he was satisfied that they were moving. "Time's a wastin'!"
Following more slowly, Tempest leaned over to Ditzy. "Be careful," he whispered. "Don't go overboard on the salt; flying with a hangover is the worst thing you can experience."
Silently, Ditzy nodded. She wouldn't let herself go; she knew her limits when it came to salt.
~~~
Well, at least she thought she did. Apparently, Appleoosan salt was much more potent than the Ponyville variety. Despite the fact that she had only had four cubes, the mare was already swaying in her seat, eyes slightly more crossed than normal.
"An-and then ah said 'Filly, you can't do that! It'll splatter everywhere!'" Braeburn announced quite loudly, giggling.
Absently chewing on a salt cube, Tempest nodded. He was currently watching Ditzy closely, concerned for her current levels of intoxication.
"An' ya know what? She did it anyways! And it did make a huge mess!" He hiccuped. "It took forever to get out of her mane."
"Uh-huh," mumbled Tempest. Ditzy was trying to wave the bartender over again, smiling deliriously.
Braeburn bit down on his cube with a loud crunch. "Still the most fun ah ever had bakin' a cake, though. Right barrel o' laughs, that was."
Tempest reached over and lowered Ditzy's frantically waving arm. The mare turned to look at him, irritation evident in her eyes.
"H-hey," she slurred. "Was th' big idea?"
"Ditzy, remember what I said about not eating too much?"
The mare snorted. "Pssh; I'm f-fine. I know my limitssh."
Tempest removed his arm. "Alright," he warned. "But remember, you have to fly home to Dinky tomorrow."
At that, the mailmare remembered her promise to her daughter. The thought seemed to sober her up. A little.
"Alright," she admitted. "Maybe I've had enough."
"Aw, yer done already?" Braeburn complained. "Phooey. It's only been..." As he glanced out the window, the stallion saw that it was quickly getting dark. "Sheeee-oot. Where does the time go?" Standing up, he grunted as the feeling returned to his legs. "Well, ah reckon we better get goin'."
~~~
Standing outside the local inn, Tempest looked up into the building's windows. It was easily the most modern building he had seen in town, though that wasn't saying much. It still had the rustic-looking wooden eves sticking out of the front, but the door was of the more familiar variety, with a knob and mail slot.
Feeling Ditzy shift against him, Tempest looked down. The mare was currently leaning against his side, too off balance to walk unsupported. Tempest knew she would regret eating so much salt much more in the morning, and felt a little sorry for her.
"Well, here we are!" announced Braeburn. While still looking slightly tipsy, the stallion had managed to walk competently enough to not fall down. Yet.
"Thanks for showing us the way here, Braeburn," thanked Tempest.
"Aw, shucks," he said, shrugging. "T'weren't no problem. Now, y'all have a good night's sleep. And welcome to AAAAA-" Suddenly, Braeburn clapped his hooves over his mouth. Looking frantically from side to side, he dropped to a whisper. "Appleoosa!" With a conspiratorial grin and a wink, the cowpony turned around and started walking away.
Right into a post.
With a thunk that made even the intoxicated Ditzy wince, Braeburn went down like a sack of bricks. Quickly, he sprung back up.
"Ah'm, OK."
Unsteadily, the stallion toddered away, looking like he would fall over at any moment. Tempest watched him go, sending a silent prayer to Celestia that he would get home and not fall in a well.
After the tipsy stallion had rounded a corner, the pair slowly walked into the inn, Ditzy still leaning heavily on Tempest's shoulder. As they approached the front desk, Ditzy rubbed her head under his chin.
"Thanksh for being so nice," she slurred, grinning stupidly.
"Erm, you're welcome?" Tempest replied, reaching to ring the call-bell and missing. Even though he wasn't tripping over his own hooves, he was still having trouble with the more dextrous of tasks.
"I mean it!" the mare insisted as the clerk approached. "You helped me on the flight here, you shtopped me from eating too much *hic* salt, an-and now you're being a right gentlecolt and helping me shtay on my hooves!" She hiccuped again, and gave the blushing stallion a quick nuzzle. "I like you."
As the stallion blustered embarrassingly, the inn's attendant finally came up to the front desk. Judging by the bags under her eyes and the irritated scowl on her face, she been woken up by the unexpected ringing of the call-bell. Picking up a random set of keys from the rack, she practically threw them at the pair. As the mare walked away, she mumbled something along the lines of 'Pay on the way out,' mixed with a few words that don't bear repeating.
Tempest eagerly snatched up the keys and led Ditzy away, the intoxicated mare being a little too affectionate for his blurry mind to properly respond to. As they walked in what he assumed was the right direction, however, they encountered their first obstacle.
Stairs.
In a vain attempt to bypass what was currently an extremely threatening bit of architecture, Tempest glanced down at the chunk of wood attached to their room key. 207.
"Horseapples," he cursed.
Hearing the swear, Ditzy looked up from the floor. As she blearily focused an eye forwards, she snorted. "Wha? Ish just stairs."
With that, the mare confidently strode ahead, stepping onto the first stair with only a slight wobble in her step. Grinning confidently, she continued her ascent, rising to the challenge both metaphorically and literally. Unconvinced, Tempest followed close behind, bracing himself to catch her should she fall.
Glancing behind her, Ditzy saw the stallion following close on her tail. Smirking smugly, she decided to tease him. "Hey, quit admiring my rump."
"Focus on the stairs," Tempest commanded, trying very hard to prevent his cheeks from going red.
Ditzy partially rolled her eyes. "Spoilsport," she muttered, putting an extra sway in her step just to annoy him.
Thankfully, the stairs, though imposing, were few in number. Ditzy soon set her front hooves on the landing where their room would be, causing Tempest to let out a sigh of relief. The stallion, feeling the ordeal was at an end, allowed his muscles to relax and his guard to drop. A fatal mistake, as it turned out.
Among the general pony population, there is a phenomenon know as 'phantom step.' Though currently a mystery to modern science, its existence is well known and has been proven time and time again. It occurs when one has reached the top of a staircase, but the brain does not register it. As such, it instructs the pony to reach for the next step. Since there is no next step, however, the pony's hooves fail to find purchase and instead plummet the last few inches back onto solid ground. During these few inches of freefall, the brain, the most malevolent of all trickster gods, sends a rush of complete and utter terror through the body, telling it that it is currently falling and about to be turned into a myriad of meaty splatters on the ground. This experience is grouped together with dreaming about rolling off the edge of the bed under the headings "Neurological Mystery" and "Really Annoying."
While the symptoms for a healthy, alert victim of phantom step are typically limited to a slight stumble and a small heart attack, Ditzy was currently neither healthy nor alert. As such, the second her surprised brain registered her hoof hitting the ground several inches below where it thought it would, her leg immediately crumpled. The resulting loss of a critical point of balance caused the mare to lean precariously to one side. Once her center of mass was sufficiently askew, her entire body fell backwards, right into the surprised and unprepared Tempest.
Oh Celestia, is this what death feels like?
Tempest groaned and rubbed his head where he had banged it on the way down. Shaking his head to rid it of the stars, his brain reminded him that there was another entity involved in the tumble.
"Ditzy?" he called, a little more loudly than intended. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm *urf* fine!" he heard.
Opening his eyes, he saw the mare in question in a most comical position. Her back was propped up against the wall, with her front half resting on the floor and her rear legs dangling above her head like a gray and fleshy mobile. Opting not to laugh, Tempest instead crawled over and began helping her to her hooves.
"You hurt?" he asked as she began stretching.
Stomping her hooves, Ditzy shook her head. "Nothing seems broken." As she extended her wing, however, she winced and quickly retracted her left. "Ouch; that's going to bruise, though."
"Let me see," the stallion asked. When, he reached for it, though, the mare shied away.
"It's fine," she insisted. "It'll be back to normal in the morning. Now, come on; we really do need to get up these stairs."
With some of her pride salvaged, Ditzy headed back to the staircase, albeit with much more care than last time. Thankfully, they made it up without incident, and Tempest was soon fumbling with the keys as he tried to unlock their room for the night.
Wherein they discovered their second problem.
"Um, there's only one bed."
Dumbly, Tempest nodded. Within the room, there was one small couch, one end table, one door which presumably led to the bathroom, one window, sans curtains, one lamp, one dresser, and one bed, with accompanying nightstand. It seemed the room was meant for one.
Immediately, the chivalrous part of Tempest's brain took over. "You take the bed, I'll sleep on the couch." When he attempted to head towards his self-designated resting place, however, Ditzy extended a leg and pulled him back.
"Oh no you don't," she said. "I just knocked us down a flight of stairs; you take the bed and consider it an apology.'
"You hurt your wing," countered Tempest. "You don't need to mess it up more by sleeping funny."
"My wing is fine, and we wouldn't have fallen if I had kept my hooves. Take the bed."
The stallion was rapidly growing tired of this back-and-forth. "Alright, look," he began. Reaching into his bag, he removed a shiny bit. "We'll flip a coin. Heads, you get the bed; tails, I get it. No do-overs, no reflips. Deal?"
"Deal," Ditzy agreed, shaking hooves.
With the bargain struck, Tempest tossed the coin upwards. As the bit twirled in the air, moonlight from the window glinted off its shiny metal surface. It quickly reached the apex of its flight, and gravity once again took hold, bringing it downwards with the same force that kept the moon from flying off into space and seriously bothering Mars.
Once the coin reached ground level, however, something strange happened. While normally one would expect to hear the pitter-patter of the metal circle bouncing and rolling on the wooden floor, the room was instead met with silence. In puzzlement, both ponies looked down to see why their problem-solving device was not making the correct noises. What greeted them was a sight most unexpected.
Sitting there, in defiance of all probability, was the coin, wedged between two slats of wood and defiantly sticking its edge strait up in the air. With the end result neither heads nor tails, the two pegasi looked up at each other.
"No do-overs..." mumbled Ditzy.
"This is awkward."
"It could be worse."
Tempest snorted. Adjusting himself, he tried to find a comfortable position that wouldn't jostle his wings against Ditzy's own. "How?"
"Well," began Ditzy, smiling mischievously. "The bed could be half its size. Or filled with snakes."
The stallion rolled his eyes. "Alright, barring strange reptile intrusions, this is still pretty uncomfortable." He shifted. "I don't suppose this could be one of those things we never tell anyone about ever?"
"I dunno," Ditzy mused. "I think I'd like to tell all my friends about how I shared a bed with the handsome stallion from out of town."
Ditzy was no stranger to being woken up by the sun. Many a morning had began with her waking up to the feeling of dappled sunlight on her eyelids. However, instead of gentle dots of light on her face, this time she felt like her eyes were being attacked with spears of horrible blinding pain.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaa! she thought, reaching up to cover her face with her hooves. When she tried, though, she felt her movements restricted by an unknown obstacle. Something warm and fuzzy. Worried, Ditzy tried to open her eyes, only to get a metaphorical slap in the face from Celestia as she realized her face was pointing directly towards the uncovered window. Groaning, she resigned herself to being blind until her head stopped throbbing.
Once her frontal lobe stopped trying to tunnel its way out of her skull, the mare finally managed to pry her eyelids open. With the sunlight still in her face, she had to squint in order to see anything beyond the blinding white light. Through her half-lidded eyes, she managed to glimpse a blurry gray form laying in front of her. Her front legs were currently wrapped around it, and she could feel warmth emanating from its surface.
Before her hazy brain could puzzle its way through what this mysterious object is, it suddenly moved. From the end nearest her head, a long appendage rose, bringing with it a blur of something blue. With slow and deliberate movements, it slowly rotated, until the top end was right in front of her face. It blinked.
Oh. It was Tempest. And they were... Oh.
Tempest seemed to realize this at the same point as her. "This is... the second most awkward position we could have woken up in."
Ditzy, laying on her side, currently had her front legs wrapped around Tempest's torso. Currently, her face was scant few inches from his own, and she could feel his wings digging into her abdomen. Their hips were uncomfortably close to each others', causing the already warm feeling of sleeping close to rise to very unpleasant levels.
After untangling themselves from their awkward spooning, both ponies stoop across from the other, looking anywhere but themselves. Eventually, Ditzy spoke.
"Never leaves this room?"
"Agreed."
With that, Ditzy sat herself down on the bed, grimacing and rubbing her temples. Embarrassed or no, she still had a killer of a migraine, not to mention her mouth was as dry as the desert outside. Seeing this, Tempest walked off into the bathroom. He returned a moment later, toting a large glass of water.
"Here," he suggested. "Drink this."
Eying the cup suspiciously, as if it would attack her, the mare gingerly took it in her hooves. Bringing it to her mouth, she tilted it back, and almost fainted with relief when the cool liquid washed over her swollen, dry tongue. Quickly, she began gulping it down, since she had literally eaten a large amount of salt and not drunk anything for several hours. There is no possible analogy that is more fitting than that truth.
"Hey, slow down," Tempest warned. "You'll make yourself sick."
Reluctantly, Ditzy slowed her frenzied gulping to a pace less reminiscent of a fire-hose in reverse. After four more glasses, the mare's thirst finally abated. Her pounding migraine had been reduced to a dull throb, and she no longer felt like she was about to cough up sand.
"Thanks," she told Tempest, getting up off the bed.
"I told you not to go overboard," said the stallion in a mocking tone. "You're lucky I stopped you when I did; any more and you'd be vomiting."
"Yes, yes," admitted the mare, looking annoyed. "I'm sorry. You can quit rubbing it in."
Tempest chuckled, much to the Ditzy's chagrin. "Maybe later. How about we go get breakfast? We'll want to start off early."
At the mention of food, Ditzy perked up. Nodding, she began stretching her stiff muscles. When she extended her wings, however, she winced and immediately pulled back her left. Tempest noticed.
"That's the second time you've done that," he accused.
"It's fine," she insisted. "It's just a little bruise."
"Little things lead to big problems," countered Tempest. "We should get it looked at before we leave."
Ditzy sensed he wasn't going to give. "Fine," she conceded. "But can we do it after breakfast? I'm starving." As if in agreement, her stomach gave off a loud growl.
Tempest nodded. "Deal. Now, come on; breakfast is complementary."
~~~
Nervously, Ditzy sat on the examination table, trying to pass the time by twiddling her hooves. The doctor had come and gone, taking with him a few magic images of the inside of her wing. Close by, Tempest sat reading a magazine as old as he was, completely uninterested in whatever out-of-date gossip it was dribbling. The table next to him was covered with similar magazines, all old and most stained with some unidentifiable liquid. Bored with fidgeting, Ditzy instead began scanning the clean, white interior of the room for something interesting. Eventually, here mismatched eyes settled on a chart, helpfully labeled 'How Much Does It Hurt?'. On it, there were five pictures of a pony's face, with multiples of two up to ten beneath them. The faces ranged from happily smiling to an exaggerated frown with teary eyes.
That's a stupid pain scale, thought Ditzy. It doesn't even have all the numbers. And who smiles when they're in any amount of pain?
She was distracting herself, and she knew it. Despite her calm, bored expression, she was actually very worried. Since the confrontation in the hotel room, she had tried opening her wings several times. The results had been consistent: each attempt resulted in a lance of pain, followed by a quick withdrawal to her side. While she was loathe to admit it, she was starting to think that she might be more injured than she originally thought.
That didn't stop her from trying to ignore it, though. "Why do doctors always put posters and stuff in the rooms?" she asked.
Tempest looked up from his colorful rag. "Probably to make it feel less like a cell, I suppose," he surmised. Nodding towards one such picture, this one featuring a multitude of colorful kittens, he continued. "They might help calm ponies down, too. I mean, foals like animals, right?"
"Yeah, but what if they form weird mental connections?" Ditzy added. "Like, what would they do if foals started associating cute animals with needles?"
"In all my years, I have never seen somepony learn to associate puppies and stabbing pain," went a new voice. Unbeknownst to Ditzy and Tempest, the doctor had walked back into the room while the two were arguing. The doctor, whose name-tag helpfully identified as 'Doctor Makewell,' looked surprisingly unprofessional for one of the medical vocation. His white coat was, of course, clean, but it looked like little other grooming had been done. What mane peeked out from under his hat (an odd combination of ten-gallon and head-lamp) looked brown and unkempt. Despite his grungy appearance, however, the seriousness of his appearance was increased immensely by his lab coat and the clipboard floating in front of his face.
Looking closely at said clipboard, Makewell spoke. "Well, Miss Doo, it appears I have some good news and some bad news."
That didn't sound good. "What's the bad news?" the mare asked tentatively.
"It appears you have sprained your wing. You are, effectively, grounded until it heals."
This was very bad. "And the good news?" Ditzy was silently hoping that he would reveal some magic device that would make 'until it heals' mean 'for the next ten minutes.'
"The good news is that it is a relatively minor sprain. You should be airborne again in about three days."
"Three days!?" shouted Ditzy. "No nonono, I need to get home tonight!"
Doctor Makewell seemed taken aback by this sudden outburst. "Well, if it's that urgent, you can probably take the train..."
"The train takes too long! I won't get there until tomorrow!" By this point, Ditzy was hyperventilating. She had promised Dinky she would be home today. Not the next day, not in four days, this day. And now she was being told she couldn't, that she was going to have to break her promise to her daughter and come home later than she had swore.
Turning her frantic emotions on the doctor, Ditzy glared at him. "There has to be a way to get to Ponyville by nightfall! You're a doctor; you know things! How do I do it?"
Faced with a manic mare, Doctor Makewell was feeling more than a little uncomfortable. In fact, he was feeling downright scared. "Erm, I-I'm sorry, miss. The t-train is the fastest way out of town by land. The only other way is by air, and you, um, c-can't fly."
Ditzy violently shook her head. "Nonononono," she gibbered. "There has to be another way! There's no way I'm going to disappoint Dinky!"
Tempest, who had been sitting quietly, sat up. Tapping the frightened doctor on the shoulder, the stallion looked at him with a determined face.
"What are those cloth things called?" he asked seriously. "The ones you carry injured ponies around on?"
Makewell looked confused. First we was being verbally accosted by a frantic mare, and now he was being asked for the names of hospital implements? It wasn't even noon! "...Stretchers?"
Tempest nodded. "Yes. Those. How much do they weigh?"
~~~
"That's your plan!?"
Pulling on a rope, Tempest nodded. Satisfied that the knot was secure, the stallion began tying the other end of the rope to one of the poles of his recently-purchased stretcher.
Ditzy shook her head in disbelief. "This is insane."
Before them lie a small pile of ropes and a cloth stretcher. Snaking out from the tangled clump, four pieces of rope were tied around each of the corners of the rectangular device in a series of complicated knots. On the other side of the fibrous thorn-bush sat Tempest, expertly tying a third piece of rope to his own body. Currently, two others were wrapped around his torso in a harness-like fashion. Anyone watching would think that the stallion was tying himself to a stretcher. Of course, they would be exactly right.
Tempest either didn't hear her or purposely refused to acknowledge her protest. "Hey, can you help me with this? The last one is always the hardest."
The mare looked at him incredulously. "No!" she said. "No, I will not help you! This is crazy! You cannot possibly think you can carry me all the way back to Ponyville!"
"I can, and I will." Seeing the mare wasn't going to help, Tempest instead began re-checking the knots on the stretcher. "Don't worry, I won't drop you. I know what I'm doing."
"It's not about that!" the mare protested, though she wasn't too keen about plummeting to her death either. "I didn't spend all that time recuperating you just for you to go and injure yourself again on some heroic stunt!"
"That's exactly why I'm doing this," Tempest countered, looking up from his knots. "You helped me when I was hurt, and now it's my turn. It's like a cruel twist of fate or something." Turning around, the stallion again presented his untied harness. "Now, are you going to help or not?"
Ditzy hesitated. Even though she was disinclined to allow Tempest to airlift her all the way home, her will to resist was waning; she wanted to disappoint Dinky even less.
"Fine," she conceded, walking over. "But I'm not going to enjoy it."
Tempest grunted as Ditzy finished the knot. "I don't expect you to."
~~~
For the third time in as many minutes, Ditzy felt her stomach heave as the airborne gurney gave another sickening lurch. Fighting hard to keep still, the mare pulled her legs in closer to her body. This ride was far from pleasant. With every jostle, Ditzy fear that she was about to tumble over the side and end up as a meaty splatter. She trusted Tempest completely, of course, but it was impossible to repress the sudden, intense terror that comes with the threat of possible death.
"How you holding up down there?"
Looking upwards, Ditzy squinted as the midday sun shone right in her eyes. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"
"If I wasn't holding up, we'd have crashed."
Ditzy contemplated this. "Point taken."
As they lapsed into silence, Ditzy distracted herself by looking at the scenery. It truly was a beautiful sight; the sun almost directly overhead painted everything in rich contrast. Rocks worn smooth by desert wind gleamed brightly, shining like broken glass embedded in the sand. Red cliffs cast deep, dark shadows beneath the slightest overhang, making the surrounding stone look like it had been carved in the style of a patchwork quilt. Desert scrub dotted the barren landscape, breaking up the plain of dry, cracked mud. Looking ahead, she could see the ridge of tall hills that was the land-bound train's main obstacle. They were fast approaching, and, looking below, Ditzy could see the first small foothills that would lead up to the peaks.
Realizing how far they had gone, Ditzy looked up. "You should rest!" she called. "It's been a while since you stopped!"
Tempest grunted, wiping the sweat out of his eyes. "I can keep going! It's fine!"
Ditzy frowned. "No. If you keep going, you're going to exhaust yourself. We need to stop for lunch, at least."
"But-"
"No buts! I'm not going to let you hurt yourself on my behalf!"
"...Can we at least wait until we get to the mountains?" the stallion asked. Feeling pressured for time, he was reluctant to stop for any reason, and was seeking to extend his flight by any length.
Fortunately, Ditzy accepted the compromise. "Deal," she agreed. "But then you're going to rest if I have to hold you down."
Several minutes later, the pair were set up on a relatively-flat ledge, looking out over the scenery. The shade provided was a great boon, blocking the oppressive heat of the sun and making their resting place infinitely more comfortable. Currently, they were set up on a small blanket, eating a small, bland lunch.
After being scolded by Ditzy and nearly choking, Tempest had stopped wolfing down his food and was now eating at a slightly more reasonable pace. Even as he swallowed his tasteless sandwich, though, he couldn't help but notice that Ditzy was acting peculiar. The mare kept tapping her hoof on the ground and fidgeting, seemingly unable to sit still. She also regularly glanced up at the horizon in the general direction that Ponyville lied. Well, one eye did; the other remained rebelliously fixed on the ground. Those well-versed in the art of body reading would immediately recognize these signs as a manifestation of a feeling of impatience or a desire to get moving, possibly due to time constraints or a limited window of opportunity.
Tempest wasn't well-versed in the art of body reading.
"Something wrong?" he said, mumbling around the food in his mouth.
Looking over at him, Ditzy sighed. "Sorry," she apologized, "I'm just worried that we won't get there in time."
Tempest contemplated his sandwich, wondering if he could fit the rest into his mouth at once. "We can get going now, if you'd like."
"No, no" protested Ditzy, shaking her head. "You need more time. If you collapse from exhaustion, neither of us will be able to get out of here."
The stallion snorted. "I'm hardly about to faint," he argued. "Anyways, why do you want me to sit here if you're worried about making it home?"
Ditzy rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I'm torn, okay?" she answered, sounding frustrated. "I want to get to Dinky as soon as possible. I mean, you saw what she did before she left, right?" Tempest nodded, though Ditzy wasn't looking. "How could I disappoint her after that? I just... can't." She stomped her hoof. "But I also can't stand to see you hurt yourself trying to rush me home."
Brief angry spark subsiding, Ditzy sat back down, tracing circles in the dirt. "It feels like I'm freezing to death, but the only thing I have to make a campfire is a flamethrower." Chuckling, she added. "Or Dinky."
Tempest blinked. "That's... a colorful metaphor."
"It wasn't a metaphor."
The stallion rolled his eyes. "Analogue, then. Whatever." Leaving no time for Ditzy to correct him again, he shoved the remains of his sandwich in his mouth and stood up. "If it makes you feel better, we're making great time. We'll make it just before sundown at this rate, assuming nothing pops up."
"After this is over, I'm never getting hurt again," Ditzy grumbled. "I hate feeling so helpless."
As soon as she finished speaking, both ponies felt the wind pick up. Out of instinct, Tempest put his nose in the air and felt the tug on his mane. He smiled.
"Look," he said, smiling. "Now the wind's blowing our way! I guess even the weather wants you to get home on time."
Ditzy shivered. "As great as that is, does it feel cold to you?."
~~~
"Hey! I think I can see Ponyville!"
"Really!?" Excited, Ditzy rose up as far as she dared. Craning her neck, she managed to see a colorful smudge on the horizon. "I see it!"
"We'll be there in no time!" Tempest announced enthusiastically.
As they drew closer, however, the two ponies noticed something strange. Above the motley blob of Ponyville, a dark shape was gathering. At first, it was just a few wisps of gray cloud, like something a lazy weatherpony might leave around. Over time, though, the wisps grew larger, darker, and more numerous. Eventually, the myriad spots coalesced into one large, imposing wall. Something that both pegasi immediately recognized.
"Storm," growled Tempest.
"What?" gasped Ditzy. "No! We're so close!"
The stallion sniffed the air, trying to gauge how far off the storm was. How he used his nose for this is anypony's guess. "It looks like we still have some time before we hit it. We can keep flying until then."
"Ooh, I hope we can get close," Ditzy mumbled.
~~~
Suddenly, Dinky looked up from the table. Sparkler, noticing her cousin's movement, glanced up from her plate. Swallowing, she spoke.
"Something wrong, Dinky?"
The filly glanced suspiciously at the ceiling. "Mama just tempted fate."
~~~
They were ten minutes from Ponyville when the first winds struck.
Like a bull with a face made of hammers, the first gust took them by surprise with incredible force. Tempest was blindsided by the sudden wave of air, and was flung a full meter to the side before he managed to recover. Ditzy, with even less control over her momentum, merely held on for dear life as her stretcher pitched to the side, pulling Tempest off-balance again.
"I-I think it's time to land!" the mare cried, legs latched onto the sides of the gurney hard enough to bend the wood.
"You think!?" was Tempest's only answer. Struggling against the torrential sea of winds, the stallion fought his was downwards, inch by agonizing inch. Up ahead, the rain curtain drew ever-closer, tailwind pushing them towards it faster than either pony appreciated.
Tempest shook his head. When his brain kicked back in, he yelled back. "Don't worry! Those knots are as strong as steel!"
Well, he was right.
With a lurch, Ditzy felt one corner of the stretcher drop. Heart beating a tattoo on her ribcage, she threw a panicked glance upwards. What she saw made her entire body freeze in dread.
"Tempest!" Hearing his name, the stallion looked down. "The rope!"
The rope, specifically the rope on the front left, was fraying. While the knots on either end of it remained perfectly secure, the center of the rope was unraveling, threatening to break at any moment.
Tempest felt his heart leap into his throat. Without giving himself time to think, he dove downwards. As he descended, racing the rope, he yelled.
"JUMP!"
With strength born of desperation, Ditzy bunched her legs beneath her and leapt. Time seemed to slow down as everything came into sharp focus. The first sparse raindrops glimmered on their way down. The last few strand of rope, unable to bear the mare's thrust, broke with an audible snap. Tempest's terrified face neatly mirroring Ditzy's own, albeit with less crossed eyes. Closer and closer they drew, hooves nearly touching, until...
THUD
With a wince-worthy impact, the ponies collided. Thinking quickly, Ditzy threw her front legs around Tempest's neck, holding on with all her might. Using the rest of her momentum, she swung her lower body upwards and gripped the stallion's waist. Tempest, in a similar motion, grabbed onto Ditzy.
No sooner than the mare secured herself than Tempest was nearly pulled out of the air by the stretcher. No longer held by all four ropes, it hung sideways, catching the wind like a sail and yanking the stallion around like an anchor. Tempest immediately set about trying to unattach it.
One of the unfortunate side-effects of tying really good knots is that they are really hard to undo in an emergency. Tempest quickly found this out as he attempted to remove the ropes from his rear legs. With the luxury of being able to stop and look denied to him, the stallion's only option was to blindly scratch where he thought the one bit of rope that would release the knot was located. Fortune must have smiled upon him, though, for his vague flailings quickly caught the loose end. Pulling on it, he was rewarded with the wonderful feeling of rough hemp sliding off his leg.
Unfortunately, the leg he had managed to free turned out to be his left leg. Once the stretcher dropped, Tempest immediately noticed that having the entire contraption's weight on one side made balancing very difficult. He lurched to the side, eliciting a terrified squeak from Ditzy, and winced as he had to wrench himself back into position.
It seemed that fate had decided that inconveniencing Tempest was much more fun helping him, as the moment he righted himself the rain hit in earnest. With the rain came the winds, and the stretcher began being tossed about like a beachball at a sports game. Tempest's right legs were yanked outwards with a powerful gust of wind. Grimacing, he yanked back and, to his surprise, felt the we rope around his back leg snap. At this point, the stallion wasn't sure if he should be angry at that Appleoosan vendor for selling him a shoddy rope, or thanking his lucky stars for the existence of poor merchandise.
With three of the tethers gone, all of the stretcher's weight was focused on Tempest's front right leg. The unbalanced force was proving very hard to fly with, and Tempest felt himself losing control of his flight. With his lack of precognition, the stallion had tied his upper body in a more complex fashion than his lower, which, in any other circumstance, would have been a beneficial choice. Here, however, it just meant that he couldn't rely on the wind snapping the rope, or being able to slip the thing off like a coat that was pulling his and Ditzy to their deaths. Thinking on his hooves (sort of), Tempest formulated a plan.
"Ditzy!" he said, shouting to be heard over the wind. "I need you to do something!"
"What!?" she yelled back, well-deserved panic seeping into her voice. With their current position, Ditzy's forelegs were wrapped around Tempest's neck, and her head was curled tight behind his.
"On my back, there are two ropes! I need you to bite through the nearest one!" Tempest felt his leg be nearly pulled out of its socket by a strong gust of wind. "And hurry!"
With something other than directionless terror to focus on, Ditzy quickly set about her task. Through the rain and mist, her uncooperative eyes sought out the rope scant inches from her face. With a voracity more common to predators, the mare ferociously began chewing at the fibers with her blunt equine teeth.
It was slow going, but the rope eventually gave way. With a final snap, the entire rigging fell away, plummeting to the ground far below. Hopefully no one was there.
"Got it!" Ditzy needlessly cried. "Can you go down now, please?"
No longer being whipped about like a child's plaything, Tempest finally tilted his wings downwards. Relief flowed through his veins as images of being safe on the ground appeared in his head. These images were quickly shattered as he felt the air around him grow noticeably warmer, and he began rising.
"Son of a Nightmare!" he swore. "Updraft!"
This was the worst thing that could have happened. Buoyed by the rising air, Tempest had no choice but to float upwards. While he could ordinarily shear through the warm column like a bear through a playpen, with a passenger clinging to his chest his maneuverability was somewhat limited.
"Why are we going up!?" yelled Ditzy, panicking. "We need to be going down! Down is safe! Why aren't you going down?"
"I can't," grunted Tempest, bracing himself.
"What do you mean you can't? Isn't your special talent flying through storms?"
"It is," confirmed Tempest. Suddenly, he felt it. His cue: the tell-tale brush of cold air across his scalp. "Now hold on."
With that, the pegasi streaked forward like a cannon shot. The updraft had lead right into a slipstream, and now Tempest was shooting through the air, mane blown back and Ditzy clinging to his chest, wondering why everything seemed to hate her today.
Holding onto the wild air currents in slipstream is not easy feat in the best of circumstances. With a passenger and a raging storm around him, Tempest knew he wouldn't be able to ride the ferocious gale for much longer; already he could feel the air around his wings fraying as the river of wind began to try and spit him out like a watermelon seed. The threat of violent eviction in the forefront of his mind, Tempest closed his eyes and concentrated.
"Anytime you want to do the whole 'special talent' thing is good!" Ditzy shouted, eyes closed for a completely different reason.
For a few horribly long seconds, Tempest was flying blind. The wind whistled past his ears, howling a threatening cadence. Invisible bits of debris scraped past his face. Rain lashed both ponies, weighing them down like a thick carpet flung over their shoulders. Far below, trees bashed and swayed in the blowing gale. Tempest opened his eyes.
More importantly, he opened his mind.
With new vision, the stallion examined his surroundings. Invisible eddies suddenly shown as bright as starlight. Great waves of wind crested and collapsed like a transparent ocean. Huge storm clouds were painted in various colors, forming a complex pattern that was both invisible and meaningless to anyone but Tempest. Everything was suddenly clear.
Finally, thought Tempest. I was beginning to think I'd never do this again.
"Hold on!" he shouted to Ditzy.
"Gee, thanks! What do you think I'm doooiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-!" The mare's sarcasm was cut off by mortal terror.
Diving and weaving, Tempest flew through the air like a well-oiled machine. No movement was wasted; every dip, dash, and duck helped move him and his passenger forward in some way. Briefly dipping into a fast-moving current, he used the added momentum to burst through a particularly turbulent patch of air. A sudden aileron roll helped the stallion to avoid a collision with a rising air column by a hair's breadth. To an outsider, it looked as if Tempest knew exactly where everything in this system was; like he had been born to fly through this storm system alone.
In reality, Tempest was having a panic attack.
Oh no, oh no, big gust coming on the left. Where can I go? Down? No, too rough. Up, then. Is there a- there's an updraft! Gogogo!
Tempest shot into the updraft and catapulted himself over the threatening mass of air.
Oh Celestia I feel so off-balance! I am never flying with somepony else on my chest again! Alright, focus, focus. What's next? Big jetstream at two o' clock. Can't go left or right. Mother of-! Baggywrinkles! BAGGYWRINKLES!
"Is this a bad time to admit I'm terrified?" yelled Ditzy, legs sore from resisting gravity.
"Not at all," replied Tempest, diving. "I am too."
"That doesn't make me feel better!"
Slowly but surely, Tempest was losing his edge. The strain of carrying another pony was making him sloppy. His wingbeats were becoming irregular, and more than once he was coshed on the side of the head by a gust he had failed to dodge. As his falters grew more and more frequent, Tempest began to search for somewhere he could land, struggling to look past the rain. With the wind whipping at his face more fiercely with every passing moment, he resigned himself for an "emergency" landing.
I have to be near the edge of Ponyville, he thought. There has to be something soft to aim for, like a pond or a compost heap or-
There. Blurred by the rain, a vague red shape appeared. Large, imposing, and edged with what was probably white, it was unmistakeable. A barn. And where there were barns, there was...
"Hang on!" yelled Tempest. Putting on a last, desperate burst of speed, the stallion tucked in his wings and curled up in a ball, Ditzy at the terrified center. Like a meteor, the two pegasi rocketed towards the ground, wind howling around them, Tempest turning in midair so his back was facing forwards. Down, down they fell, closer to the ground with impossible slowness, headed right towards...
*FWUMP*
...A large pile of hay.
Shaking off the impact, Ditzy quickly pulled her way to the open air. Once free of the straw's wet grip, the mare began batting the yellow stalks out of her mane, looking around for Tempest. She didn't have to wait long, as the stallion clawed his way to the surface mere feet from her, spitting out mouthfuls of the sodden crop on his way out. After Tempest had finished evacuating his esophagus of their makeshift landing pad, he frantically spun his head around, looking for the pony he had just ferried through a thunderstorm. Ditzy smirked opted not to say anything as the stallion spun a full 360 degrees, not noticing his target was directly in front of him. Once Tempest was done making a fool of himself, the two pegasis' eyes met. For a long moment, they held each other's gaze. Ditzy was the first to laugh, with Tempest close behind.
They both looked utterly ridiculous.
Once the hearty guffaws, tinged with large amounts of relief, had subsided, Ditzy lunged forward through the damp hay and wrapped Tempest in a tight hug. While perhaps a little uncomfortably reminiscent of the life-or-death grip that had been present a minute before, Tempest was no less eager to return it. Between the two of them, the hug conveyed two messages: "Thank you for saving my life," and "Let's never do that again."
Pulling back from the hug, Ditzy began shaking her mane free of straw and rain-water. Tempest closed his eyes and raised his foreleg to protect his face from the myriad water drops and twigs. After Ditzy was finished with her impromptu grooming, Tempest lowered his leg, only to hear the mare gasp. She had a panicked expression on her face, and looked ready to bolt.
"Dinky!" she exclaimed, before dashing off in the general direction of town.
Grasping her meaning, Tempest too leapt out of the pile. After shaking a few stray straws from some unsavory places, the stallion dashed off in hot pursuit.
~~~
Forlornly, Dinky stared out the window. Of course, with the torrential rain outside, her view was restricted to a few meters past the glass pane. With her chance of finding something outside minimal, the filly resorted to the age old game of racing raindrops down the outside of the window.
Just as Little Drip was about to make a comeback against Señor Surface-Tension, Sparkler crept up behind her little cousin.
"Dinky," she said, looking down at the smaller unicorn. "Are you alright?"
Abandoning her game, Dinky turned around. While she didn't say anything, the pensive look on her face was all the answer Sparkler needed.
Sighing, the mare knelt down to Dinky's level. "You're worried about Tempest and Ditzy, aren't you?"
Dinky nodded. " 'S raining," she mumbled. "They'll get all wet."
An idea flashed into Sparkler's head. Smiling, she nudged the filly's chest. "Yes, they will." Nodding toward her living room, she added, "Why don't you go start a fire so they can get all warm when they get here?"
Dinky gave a small smile. " 'Kay," she agreed, hopping off the windowsill.
As the filly trotted out of sight, something occurred to Sparkler. "In the fireplace!" she called. "The fire goes in the fireplace!"
Once Dinky was out of sight and hopefully not about to burn down her house, Sparkler's smile vanished. Taking her turn to look out the window, the mare spoke under her breath.
"Hurry up, you two. Dinky's worried about you guys."
As soon as she finished whispering, there was a loud thunk at her door. Sparkler stared at it in confusion, and after a few seconds the noise was accompanied by a series of rapid, softer knocks. Recognizing this as the universal cue to answer the door, the mare walked over and pulled the wooden portal open. Outside, she was greeted by a welcome sight.
Ditzy, hoof raised to knock again, was glaring at Tempest, who sat on the stoop rubbing his forehead. Both were soaked to the bone and covered in straw, and Ditzy had a sopping wet bandage covering one wing. All around them, rain poured down, Sparkler's canopy providing a small island of relative dryness in the downpour. Upon hearing the door open, Ditzy adjusted her gaze and saw Sparkler, looking both relieved and confused.
"We're here!" she announced. "Sorry we're late." Tempest, for his part, took this opportunity to shake himself dry, earning another glare from Ditzy.
"Come on in," ushered Sparkler, motioning with a hoof. "Dinky's in the living room."
As Ditzy took her turn to shake herself, Tempest walked in. After Ditzy followed moments later, Sparkler shut the door behind them.
"There's probably a fire in or near the fireplace," the unicorn said. "Why don't you two go warm up? I'll get some blankets." Without waiting for an answer, the mare walked away. Looking at each other, the ponies shared a simultaneous shrug and trotted into the parlour.
Miraculously, the fire was contained completely within the stone fireplace. Tasteful wooden decorations from a variety of cultures dotted the walls, giving an air of eclecticy to the room. White fabric couches filled one corner, and a well-used and over-stuffed chair occupied the other. A china cabinet filled with various colorful trinkets rested against the far wall, all manner of shiny baubles covering its various shelves. A quaint teak table sat in the middle of the room, covered in old newspapers, magazines, and adventure novels, along with quite a few empty beverage containers. In front of the fireplace rested a small brown rug, sticking out by virtue of its mundanity. On the soft, fireproof rug was Dinky.
Ditzy crept into the room. "Dinky?" she called softly.
"Mama?" responded a tired voice. Turning around, Dinky's eyes shot open at the sight of her mother, all trace of sleepiness gone. "Mama!"
With meteoric speeds, the filly hurled herself at her mother. For the first time that day, Ditzy found herself on the receiving end of a neck-based death-grip. And she couldn't be happier.
"I'm here, Muffin," she assuaged, tears adding a bit more moisture to her damp fur.
Noticing Tempest close behind, Dinky detached herself from her mother and gave Tempest a similar embrace. "Thanks," she whispered close to his ear.
Once she felt she had hugged both ponies sufficiently, Dinky stood in front of both of them. Upon noticing the bandage on Ditzy's wing, she gasped. "Mama! Your wing!"
Walking forwards, Ditzy nuzzled her daughter's head. "Don't worry, Muffin; it's just a scratch. I'll be better in a couple days."
Mid-nuzzle, Ditzy felt Dinky let out a small yawn. "Buuuuuut," the mare teased, "I think it's past somepony's bedtime."
Blearily, Dinky nodded. Trotting over to the fireplace, the filly set herself down on the cushy rug, quickly settling into a pattern of gentle snoring.
Smiling, Ditzy followed, curling herself around her daughter snugly. Upon noticing a distinct lack of sound, the mare opened one eye and saw Tempest standing in the doorway, unsure of what to do. Ditzy shuffled a little and raised a wing, beckoning him over. While initially hesitant, the stallion nonetheless took the invitation and came over, sitting down and curling up with the two.
Placing her head on top of Tempest's neck, Ditzy sighed contentedly. With her daughter safely snoring against her chest, she felt that all the troubles of the day had been worth it. With the combined effects of the warmth of the fire, their own body-heat, and their shared exhaustion, both Tempest and Ditzy soon fell asleep.
"I found the blan-" said Sparkler rather loudly, before cutting herself off. Near her head floated several thick wool blankets, wrapped in a purple aura. Looking into her living room, she spotted the pile of ponies in front of her fireplace. She covered he mouth with a hoof.
"That is the most adorable thing I've ever seen," she whispered. Silently, she floated one of the blankets over and threw it over all three ponies.
"Good night," the mare breathed, tiptoeing back to her room, a smile on her face.
~~~
"Do you really have to go?"
Glumly, Tempest nodded. Three days ago, he had woken up wrapped in a blanket next to Ditzy and Dinky. In a bizarre twist of fate, he had spent that time with them, making sure Ditzy didn't hurt her injured wing. Now that she was fully healed, however, whatever flimsy excuses for him to remain were gone. For the second time that week, two ponies found themselves in a farewell where neither wanted to leave.
"Hayton is where all my everything is," mumbled Tempest forlornly. "Whether I like it or not, I can't abandon my job." It sounded hollow, even to him.
"You'll come to visit, right?" Dinky piped up, looking at Tempest with big eyes.
Tempest bent down to her level. "Definitely. Next chance I get, I'm coming back. I don't care if I have to carry two fridges all the way here."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
Standing back up, the stallion was met by the golden eyes of Ditzy. The two stared at each other, trying to find words to express what they were thinking. Ditzy made up her mind first.
Lunging forward, the mare wrapped Tempest in a tight hug, which was quickly reciprocated. Holding tight, the ponies squeezed like they never wanted to let go. Which they didn't.
"I'm going to hold you to that too." Ditzy said.
"Go ahead," replied Tempest. "It would be harder to keep me away."
The two separated. Standing back at a more normal distance, Tempest smirked. "I think I might apply for a transfer."
Ditzy smiled. "Well, if you do, you know where to find us."
He nodded. "That I do. Goodbye."
"Goodbye."
With that, the stallion took off. Knowing that the longer he dawdled the harder it would be to leave, he wasted little time in turning around and flying off. With two sets of eyes on his back, Tempest flew away from Ponyville, against his best wishes.
"Mama?" quipped Dinky, once the stallion was little more than a speck above the trees. "He is coming back, right?"
For once, both of Ditzy's eyes were looking where she wanted them too. She took a deep breath. "He promised, didn't he? He doesn't strike me as the type to break a promise."
Smiling sadly, Dinky nodded. The mare, eyes moist with held-back tears, gave her mother a quick hug. No longer a small filly, she did not need to jump up to reach her mother's neck. In fact, Ditzy actually had to look up to meet her daughter's eyes, which never failed to unnerve her. Such is the curse of offspring.
Where once had been a small unicorn with a penchant for combustion, there was now a fully-grown mare. Her purple-gray coat had been groomed to a lustrous shine in preparation for her departure. Eyes once shining with youthful innocence now glowed with more mature mischief. She had grown her mane out, feeling the short and poofy style she had worn for many years made her look too childish, and tied the excess bits back in a practical and less in-the-way ponytail. The once bare spot on her flank now sported a shining orange swirl, showcasing her talents with everything flammable.
"I'm going to miss you, mom," sighed Dinky, breaking the embrace.
"I'll miss you too, Muffin," replied Ditzy, ruffling her daughter's mane. "But I know you'll do great at the Institute. You're not my little filly that accidentally set fire to everything anymore."
"Yeah," laughed a new voice. "Now she's all grown up, and doing it on purpose."
Turning towards the sound, Ditzy smiled. "Oh, Tempest," she jokingly scolded. "Are you ever going to forgive her for lighting your scarf on fire?"
"Never," replied Tempest, grinning sarcastically. "That little stunt nearly cost me my mane."
"Yeah, but it got me my cutie mark," said Dinky, rubbing her fire-swirl appreciatively. "I was so happy I didn't care that you grounded me for the entire week."
The stallion walked in for a hug. "It's going to be pretty boring without you around, squirt," he sighed. "I'm going to miss you."
"I'm going to miss you too, dad," repeated Dinky, sounding like her mother. She heard Tempest chuckle; it warmed his heart when she called him that.
“Have fun at the Institute of Whatever, scamp,” he replied, pulling her tighter.
“It’s the Canterlot Institute of Destruction and Demolitions, you dumb brute,” scolded Dinky jokingly. “Call it by its full name.”
Pulling back, Dinky took a good look at her family. They were noticeably older; Ditzy's eyes crinkled when she smiled, which was often, and Tempest's indigo mane now sported a pale steak whose existence the stallion stalwartly refused to acknowledge. These were all cosmetic differences, of course, and very minor ones at that. Both pegasi were still fit and healthy, the effects of regular flying well-evidenced. They weren't quite to the level of 'kindly old couple from down the road.'
"My little filly is off to Canterlot," said Ditzy, wiping a tear from her eye. "I can hardly believe it."
"I have to say, I'm a bit jealous of you, scamp," laughed Tempest. "Not many ponies get to make a career out of breaking things."
"Demolitions isn't just 'breaking things,' dad," Dinky protested. "There's a lot of little nuances and calculations to be done before you can even-"
"Yeah, yeah," interrupted the stallion, waving a hoof dismissively. "Math and blah blah blah. At the end of the day, you're still making big things into a bunch of smaller things."
Dinky glared at him. After a moment, Tempest broke into a grin. Wrapping the unicorn in a headlock, he rubbed her head playfully.
"Ah, I'm just messing with you. I'm glad you're going into something you love."
"Let go of me before I light you on fire," grumbled Dinky, muffled by Tempest's leg.
Suddenly, a voice sounded from behind them. "Oh no! Are we late? Did she leave?"
Dinky recognized the voice immediately. "Sparkler!" she shouted, breaking free of Tempest's grip. Whirling around, she saw two figures fast approaching, trying to go as fast as they could with package on the mare's back.
Panting, Sparkler and her partner stopped near the others. “Sorry we’re late,” she wheezed, “We slept in a little.”
“Yeah,” the pegasus beside her gasped. “It was the first time we’ve actually slept in weeks.”
Bounding over, Dinky wrapped her legs around Sparkler in a giant hug. “I’m so glad to see you!” she squeaked.
Returning the hug, Sparkler gave a low chuckle. “I am too, Dinky,” she replied. Using her magic, she lifted the bundle off of her back. “And look who I brought!”
Dinky squeaked in glee as Sparkler relinquished her hold. "Oh my gosh! You brought the baby!"
"Whiplash," answered the other pegasus, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Though I'm starting to think we should have named him 'Trouble.'"
Putting a hoof to her mouth, Ditzy barely suppressed her laughter. "I told two you a foal would be a lot of work, didn't I?" she smugly taunted.
"Yes," admitted Sparkler, scuffing her hoof. "But we didn't realize it would be this much work!"
"Yesterday, he broke the bathroom door," added the pegasus. "How does a two-month-old foal even do that?"
"Breaking things runs in the family."
"How can you call anything this cute trouble?" asked Dinky, playing with the baby by holding her hoof just out of reach. Whiplash gurgled in response.
"Keep in mind, Dinky, you were a pretty cute baby too," warned Sparkler. "And look how you ended up."
For the second time, Tempest wrapped his legs around Dinky's neck. "Yeah, burning down houses for a living and still cute as a button!"
"For the last time, let go," demanded Dinky, struggling in the stallion's grip.
"Actually, hold her there, dear," suggested Ditzy, smiling deviously. "I think it's time for a hug."
"Agreed," added Sparkler, moving in for the kill.
As one, all the mobile ponies embraced Dinky, wrapping their legs around her in farewell. Dinky continued to struggle for a moment, before relenting and giving in to their affections. In the background, the foal burbled.
"Oh, I'm going to miss you guys," lamented Dinky, feeling herself tear up.
"We're going to miss you too, squirt," replied Tempest. "Try to visit, alright?"
"They couldn't stop me if they tried."
Slowly, Sparkler and her partner untangled themselves from the emotional bramble-bush. "Sorry," apologized the unicorn, "But we really have to get back home."
"No worries," assured Ditzy, "We're just glad you could come."
Using her magic, Sparkler lifted Whiplash onto her husband's back, and set about securing him. Once her offspring was properly strapped down, she began babytalking.
"Say 'goodbye,' Whiplash," she spoke, voice oozing with sweetness and face contorted in a terrifying facsimile of something cute. "Come on! Say goodbye for mommy!"
"Hun, you know he can't talk yet," said the foal's current bearer.
"Hush. Come on, Whippy; say 'goodbye' for mama!"
"Ppppthhhppt!" went Whiplash.
Sparkler shrugged. "Eh. Close enough." With that, the family walked off.
Dinky and co. watched them go for a few moments. Suddenly, Dinky spoke. "I'm going to miss them," she mumbled.
Nuzzling the unicorn's head, Ditzy replied. "And we're going to miss you, my little pyromancer."
"Yeah, what are we going to spend all our money on, now that we don't have to pay for your repairs anymore?" Tempest joked.
Ditzy responded with a sharp thwack to the head. "You are just full of terrible jokes today, aren't you?"
"Ow," Tempest whined, rubbing his new bump. "Thanks. Now I'm full of bad jokes and a headache."
Seeing her parents' antics, Dinky chuckled. "I'm going to miss you guys, too."
Ditzy sighed. "Do good out there, Muffin. We love you." She chuckled. "And bring us back plenty of grandfoals, you hear!"
While Tempest burst out laughing at the classic parent joke, Dinky blushed a bright shade of crimson. "Mooooo-ooom!" she yelled, mortified.
Ditzy had a chuckle at her daughter's expense. "Oh, you know I'm just teasing you, Muffin," she laughed. Suddenly, her expression dropped all levity. "Seriously, though. Grandfoals. And lots of th-"
Before Ditzy could finish her request for her daughter's procreation, a loud bong echoed through town. Shortly after, another ring followed. And another. Altogether, twelve bongs sounded, each identical to the last. The three ponies looked at each other apprehensively.
"Noon," muttered Dinky. "I guess the chariot will be here soon."
"Yeah," mumbled Tempest, scuffing his hoof on the ground.
Deadlines are a funny thing. Until they are actually in your face, it's almost as if they don't exist. Once they're there, though, you can scarcely believe that you had ever blown them off. You will vow to do better next time, and not wait until the last minute. Then, the next time a deadline arrives, you do the same thing again.
The family was now feeling that.
Dinky gulped. "I-I guess I should get going, then."
Her parents nodded. "Yeah," replied Ditzy, biting her lip. "You don't want to miss your ride."
Dinky didn't respond. Instead, she just stood there, looking both eager and sad. On one hand, here she was, about to go to the place that would teach her everything she could ever want to know about her future career. On the other, she was about to leave her family. Never had such conflicting emotions been present in her mind. Not even when learned a new fireball spell by burning down a market stand, and had to work for a month to pay it off.
Suddenly, Dinky couldn't take the tension anymore. Lunging forward, she wrapped her parents in a tight hug. "ByemomanddadIloveyouI'llvisitsoon!" she babbled, before galloping off in the direction of the town square.
As the sound of Dinky’s hooves on the cobble faded away, Ditzy rested her head on Tempest’s shoulder. “Well, there she goes,” she sighed. “Off to become a fully grown mare. Without us.”
“Yep,” replied Tempest, trying to look stony and not doing very well. Absently, he brushed at a wet patch on his shoulder. “What are we going to do now?”
“I don’t know,” answered Ditzy, scrunching up her brow in thought. “What do couples do after their kids leave?”
Suddenly, Tempest put on a mischievous grin. “I can think of one thing,” he said. Quickly, he bent down and used his head to scoop Ditzy onto his back. Feeling herself being torn from the ground, the mare gave a yelp of surprise before landing on Tempest’s back. While she was disoriented, the stallion had turned and was now headed back towards the house, Ditzy thrown across his back like a pair of saddlebags.
Once she had regained her bearings, Ditzy found one of her eyes looking at their current destination. Understanding his intent, the mare started laughing. Typical.
“Woah, there, lover boy,” she chuckled. “You’re going to have to do a little bit more for that.”
“What if I promise to make dinner?” the stallion quipped, giving a wry smile over his shoulder.
Ditzy ruffled his mane. “Getting closer. Keep trying.”
