Pumpkin Cake and the Storm Giant
PUMPKIN CAKE AND THE STORM GIANT
by CLOUD WANDER
Night commanded the cellar of Sugar Cube Corner. Above, in the infinite darkness, powerful winds battered the little house and hard rain hammered its sides. A single lantern lit the cellar, the lantern bugs batting softly against the glass.
It is a dark and stormy night, thought Pumpkin Cake, a baby unicorn.
She glanced around. Her one ally was her brother, Pound, a baby pegasus. An imperfect instrument for her plan, but she knew him to be bold and tenacious. He would have to do.
Promise to be quiet? asked Pumpkin.
Pound mimed zipping his mouth. He grinned.
All right then, thought Pumpkin. Let’s go.
They crept silently across the cellar floor.
In their corner, Pumpkin’s toys turned to watch.
Stay back! Pumpkin cautioned, waving a hoof. Leave this to us. We’ve got it.
The toys looked concerned, but held their place. As a rule, they didn’t move unless Pumpkin thought about it.
Except, of course, for Gummy. The little alligator scurried across the floor and looked up at the twins. Hey! What’s up, guys? Where are we going? he seemed to say.
Aargh! What is it with you, anyway? thought Pumpkin, crossly. Why can’t you sit still like my other toys?
Gummy swished his tail in reply.
We are on a mission, Gummy, explained Pumpkin. A secret mission of historic importance. We seek a fabulous treasure. But this treasure is guarded by the most terrifying opponents imaginable. We face impossible odds, and will likely fail and be cast into the Black Corner of Timeout forever.
But as heroes, we must struggle on. For we, my brother and I, are the defenders of goodness. Delicious goodness. This is our burden. This is our fate.
This is not for you, my little friend. Go! Be safe. And tell our tale to your grandchildren!
Gummy swished his tail in reply.
Pumpkin rolled her eyes. Or come with us, whatever, thought Pumpkin.
Pound smiled to himself.
Pumpkin and Pound continued their dark journey across the cellar floor. Gummy, for his part, was content to scuttle along behind.
Perhaps, if the monsters discover us, they will eat him first, thought Pumpkin, darkly.
Pound caught her eye. Sister, that was unworthy of you, he thought.
Pumpkin cocked an eye at her brother. Perhaps. Yet the time may soon come when sacrifices must be made. Will you be ready then, I wonder?
The twins stole behind a long-forgotten treadmill, a mysterious artifact of the Ancient World. Mom had told Dad that she meant get it back out and start using it every day, really, she meant it, but here it still stood, neglected.
What is the deal with these old records, anyway? wondered Pumpkin, as they passed an overflowing cardboard box. Dad had asserted that, no really, these slender disks contained glorious music. And yet here they lay, in the dust, silent.
High above, a roll of thunder passed over the house. Everything in the cellar shook. The twins looked up, wondering. Then moved on.
They passed by Mom’s collection of romance novels that she was too embarrassed to be seen with and Dad’s long-ignored lessons for the small businesspony. The twins were, for a moment, stymied by the reef of Pinkie Pie’s massive twelve-volume Encyclopedia Geologica, but they found a path around it.
We move in memory, Pumpkin realized. Within this dark chamber, lie the collected treasures of the Ancients, of Mom and Dad. And, perhaps, of all of the eternal line of the Cakes.
The twins inched forward in the fitful light. Gummy stumped along behind.
Then Pound touched her, gesturing. Pumpkin froze. The Queen in Pink had stirred.
The Queen in Pink was a monster! A pony in form, yet swollen to enormous size, nearly as large as Mom! The Queen was the first Guardian of the Cellar, awesome to behold.
Her servants, the Balloons, attended the Queen anxiously and stared down at the intruders.
The twins paused. Gummy crawled up silently behind them.
She’s dreaming, now, thought Gummy, looking at the Pink Queen fondly. Do you know what She’s dreaming about?
No one can know that! thought Pumpkin.
Why, She’s dreaming about you! thought Gummy. You, me and Pound, we are only things in Her dream. And, do you know what would happen if She awoke? Why— bang! You’d pop like a balloon! You are only a bit of Her dream, after all.
No, I’m not! I’m real! Pumpkin exclaimed indignantly. Besides, if I’m only a dream, what are you?
Only a dream, thought Gummy, smiling. A dream within a dream.
The twins shrank back as the Queen rolled in her sleep.
“Pickle barrel,” the Queen muttered enigmatically, then fell silent.
Again, all was still in the cellar.
To be honest, I can’t explain that, thought Gummy, embarrassed.
The twins looked at each other. On, then, they nodded.
Gummy looked longingly at the Pink Queen. Then he looked at the twins. Heaving a sigh, he swished his tail and followed them.
Pumpkin’s Mom and Dad, in their incomprehensible wisdom, had confined the twins to the cellar.
“Oh, little gingersnaps, everything is going to be fine!” Mom had declared with that weird smile that made Pumpkin doubtful. “It’s going to be a bit… breezy, that’s all. That nice Rainbow Dash, she tells me it’s going to be all right.
“It’s not like we haven’t weathered giant storms before, right? Daddy and I will be up here, making sure the house doesn’t blow away. Ha ha. So Pinkie Pie will be in the cellar with you. And all of your toys. And that nice Owlowiscious from the Library and that… cat, Opalescence, from the boutique across the square, they’ll be safe with you, too, and keep you company.”
Mom had collected them up into a hug. “Look after each other, you understand? Be brave. And I promise you, afterward, there will be cookies and milk.”
Now, Mom and Dad were gone. And then there was naught left but the abyssal darkness of the cellar.
Pumpkin had been down in the cellar before, with Dad. Somehow, it seemed larger tonight. No doubt a trick of the shadows, she thought.
They moved silently past the Shelves of Jellies and Pickles. Objects, strange and indescribable, floated in their clouded fluids. Some of them seemed to move.
Pumpkin averted her gaze and passed by, into the deeps of the cellar.
***
The second Guardian was smaller than the Queen, but far, far more savage: the White Lioness of Ponyville, Opalescence, Avatar of Rage.
Opalescence slept upon the Red Pillow, of which the minstrels sing in whispers. Upon her brow was the blasphemous Purple Bow, the true tale of which makes strong ponies blanch. And about her throat was clasped the Jeweled Collar, which glimmered with an eldritch, other-dimensional light.
“HISS-ah. HISS-ah,” breathed the creature. Even in slumber, her long claws flexed, pressing into the yielding flesh of her captive.
The Bowl of Feasting is empty, sister, cautioned Pound. The Bowl of Water draws low. And I fear the condition of the Box of Sand!
Yet, observed Pumpkin. She still holds the Squeaker Mouse of Forgetfulness, brother. We may yet have a chance. We must go on!
As they slipped silently through the shadows, the Squeaker Mouse awoke. Its sad little button eyes swung towards the twins.
Help me, it trilled in a tiny voice.
The twins paused, moved by the plaintive cry of the unfortunate creature.
“HISS-ah. HISS-ah.” With each tuna-scented breath, Opalescence drove her claws into the mouse’s body.
Free me, it beseeched them. Please!
I will free you, little friend, declared Pound Cake, striding forward, but Pumpkin yanked him back with a flash of her horn.
Brother! You are reckless! rebuked Pumpkin Cake. You think, unarmed, to do battle with that? With the White Lioness? Would you leave me an only child?
Pound rounded upon her. What would you have of me, then? Would you have me walk away, leaving this innocent in the clutches of a fiend?
I would have you show some commonsense, for once, scolded Pumpkin. I grieve for the plight of this sad prisoner as much as you, but I would not lose you to a valiant yet vain gesture.
How now, then, sister? Pound demanded hotly. If not by arms, or by cowardice, how shall we proceed?
Gummy, for his part, continued to stump along, with relentless alligator determination. He passed the twins and looked back, his violet eyes glowing, questioning. Well?
The twins stood, eyes downcast. Then Pumpkin looked up as a realization struck her.
Brother, she thought excitedly. Did not the Ancients promise not only the Plate of Cookies, but also, the Flagon of Milk?
Pound furrowed his brow. Yes, of course. What— ah! I perceive your thought! A ransom!
Yes! Pumpkin thought. Perhaps if the Lioness were offered the Flagon of Milk in exchange for her captive, his release could be obtained!
Pound looked grim. But, then, sister, we would have no milk for our cookies. Have you thought on this?
I cautioned you, thought Pumpkin, that sacrifices must be made. Did you imagine that this burden would not fall upon you? Upon us?
Pound flapped his wings and straightened. Neigh, sister. Milk would sour on my tongue were I to neglect the plight of this wretched creature. You are right. All the more reason for us to complete our quest! To claim the treasure and to win this sad prisoner’s release!
The twins gathered themselves to continue their journey.
Please, do not abandon me! No! cried the Squeaker Mouse, piteously.
You are not forsaken, Squeaker Mouse, vowed Pumpkin. We have formed a plan to win your freedom. For now, we must leave, but we shall return for you. Be brave! Upon your courage, your silence, all depends!
Squeaker Mouse nodded, sadly. Go, then. I shall endure. And cling to a small hope of deliverance. His little button eyes turned to the floor.
The foul breath of Opalescence, “HISS-ah, HISS-ah,” haunted their steps as they stole deeper into the cellar.
These tests are grim, indeed, thought Pumpkin. The first challenges our courage. The second, our resolve. What of the third?
With relentless alligator determination, the twins followed Gummy into the darkness towards the Stairs.
***
Another roll of thunder shook the cellar. Gummy continued to plod forward and the twins followed.
They passed the stack of magazines that have that one cool article we need to save and the cairn of paint buckets that are just that shade that matches the towels.
Mom’s knitting kit. Dad’s paint brushes. Pinkie’s favorite pickaxe. Glories of the Ancient World.
Then they came upon the seductive Picture Albums of Yesterday and Pound was hard-pressed to hold his sister back.
Here, brother! cried Pumpkin, struggling madly in his grasp. Here, it was recorded your pose, naked and unashamed, upon the Baby Blanket. Would you not look upon yourself, in your cuteness? I would, by troth.
You forget yourself, sister! This is not for mortal eyes! Come! Pound dragged his sister away from the tomes of forbidden knowledge.
They paused to collect themselves, in the shadow between the Cabinet of Disused Sports Equipment and the Boxes of Old Shoes No Longer Fashionable.
Thank you, brother, thought Pumpkin, shamefacedly. Thank you. Forgive my weakness.
It is nothing, Pound replied, gruffly. He rubbed her orange mane. Twin Sister, Best Friend Forever. Shall we go on?
Yes, said Pumpkin, forcing herself to look away from the echoes of the past and towards the future.
You are rough and a little stupid. But you are the best brother, Pumpkin thought.
What was that? asked Pound.
Oh, sorry! replied Pumpkin. Did I think that out loud?
Let us look forward, brother, insisted Pumpkin hastily. To the next challenge.
***
And then, they came upon the third Guardian. Or, rather, he found them.
From the beams across the ceiling, Owlowiscious, the unsleeping Watcher in the Dark, glared down. His wings were broad. His talons, sharp. His eyes were like lanterns.
Owlowiscious flapped down to the top of a pile of crates and gazed down upon the twins. His voice came as the wind in the leaves:
“Those WHOOO would pass by me
Must answer me
These riddles three
‘Ere the other side they see.”
I’m the smart one, thought Pumpkin, grimly. This contest is for me.
Pound brushed her back.
Gummy swished his tail.
This task is for me, my sister, said Pound. If I fail, learn from me, and go on!
Brother! cried Pumpkin. Do not be foolhardy!
Sister! Be strong! said Pound.
Gummy swished his tail.
Then Pound Cake stood forth.
I shall dare your riddles, old bird! he said.
Owlowiscious looked a bit annoyed at the “old bird” reference. But he shrugged.
“WHOO are you?” he challenged.
I am Pound Cake, brother of Pumpkin…, declared Pound.
You don’t need to bring me into this, thought Pumpkin, waving her hooves.
Noble son of Carrot and Cup, Pound continued. Heir to the House of Cake, Knight Errant of the Cube of Sugar.
Owlowiscious nodded sagely. “What is your quest?”
Pound glanced at his sister, then stood tall and answered, We seek the Plate of Cookies!
Then the Lamps of Owlowiscious, Bird of Prey, Lord of the Dark Between the Stars, turned fully upon Pound Cake.
“WHOO DOES THE PLATE OF COOKIES SERVE?” thundered Owlowiscious.
Pound was sorely tried in this consideration. Upon this, all depended, he knew. Finally, he offered his judgement:
Four. Or maybe six, depending on if there’s milk. I’d be happy with two, if they have sprinkles. Actually, we could leave a couple… for others, he looked knowingly at Owlowiscious.
Owlowiscious contemplated. Then nodded. “You have judged well, little pegasus. You may pass.”
***
Pumpkin and Pound were getting close to the Stairs now. They could see them ahead, climbing up into the shadows. They crept behind piles of old clothes that we really mean to wear some day, once we lose a few pounds and stacks of forgotten tomes that we really would like to finish when we can get back to them.
It’s almost, Pumpkin realized, like Mom and Dad had lives before me and Pound!
She stopped to ponder this. She understood, on an abstract level, that Mom and Dad had been alive for months, maybe even years, before she and her brother were born. But, until this moment, Pumpkin had imagined that they’d spent most of that time getting ready to be her Mom and Dad.
Had they really had lives before me? Had they been young? Had they once been children?
Oh, the idea is absurd! Mom and Dad have always been Mom and Dad. I’ve watched them every day for a year now and they haven’t changed a bit.
Everything is always going to be like it is right now, Pumpkin reassured herself. Everything is perfect right now. Mom is Mom, Dad is Dad, Pinkie is… whatever Pinkie is. Pound is as solid as one of his blocks. And we are all happy and safe in the House on Sugar Cube Corner.
Another boom of thunder shook the house. The noise was louder now, closer to the Stairs and the Cellar Door.
Gummy skittered across the floor, once again in the lead. Pound stalked warily in Gummy’s wake.
This annoyed Pumpkin. I’m supposed to be the leader. C’mon, let’s get going, she told herself.
The twins moved forward, around the collection of strange tools that seemed like a good idea at the time but how do the darn things work, I dunno and passing by the camping gear, no we really enjoy camping, except for the bugs.
Then, in the darkness, an exotic scent came to Pumpkin’s attention.
Fruitcake! she realized. Actually, Gramma Fruit Cake was pretty nice, although a little funny. Here in the cellar there was a low wall built from her holiday gifts, which were a kind of heavy construction material made of fruits and nuts compressed into a dense mass.
The fruitcake wall supported a collection of old sheet music and the black case containing the banjo that Dad meant to get back to, when he had the time, after the children are gone.
Wait. What?
After the children are… gone?
Dad had said that. Pumpkin had heard it. But only now, confronted with the black banjo case itself, had understanding come.
Why would Daddy say that? Pound and I will always be right here, won’t we? We will always be their babies. Why would we ever be gone?
Pumpkin stood staring at the black case until Pound nudged her. You coming? he asked.
Pumpkin finally turned and followed Pound and Gummy towards the Stairs. But she wasn’t sure if she was hungry any more.
***
They stood at the foot of the Stairs and looked up. The pale steps slanted up into the darkness.
Gummy gnawed at the first step.
I’ve got this, declared Pound. He grabbed the little alligator in his forehooves, flapped his flappers and he and Gummy flew up into the dark at the top of the Stairs.
Pumpkin’s horn glowed softly. Convenient, she thought. She looked up the steps and felt lighter, somehow. She found herself able to bound easily up the Stairs, close behind Pound and Gummy.
Everything’s going to be all right, she told herself, as she followed her brother and her ridiculous toy. We’re okay. Everything is okay.
At last the three intrepid adventurers had achieved the top of the Stairs and stood before the Cellar Door.
“All right, this is it,” spoke Pumpkin. “The last challenge. Let’s gird our loins and move on.”
Pound looked around. “Umm… the ‘loin girder.’ Do you have it?”
“I assumed you had it,” said Pumpkin.
“Not me,” said Pound, holding up his hooves.
“Oh, hey! No problem, guys! Leave this to me!” said Gummy.
Gummy the alligator thrust his hips into the air and wiggled them around.
“Loins girded!” he announced, essaying a smart salute.
“Show-off,” said Pound. He checked his own diaper. “Tight and dry. I’m good.”
There was something about this conversation that left Pumpkin Cake vaguely worried. Something is off here, she thought. But she couldn’t quite put her hoof on the problem.
“Let’s go, then,” she announced. Pumpkin looked at the Cellar Door.
Pumpkin generally enjoyed good relationships with Doors. They tended to move out of her way, when needed, except for the Forbidden Door to the Ancients’ Bedroom, which was stubborn. She asked the Cellar Door to open, her horn flashed and the Door obediently swung aside.
The three adventurers stepped into the Hallway. The familiar passage was shrouded in inky blackness.
THEN A FLASH, BLUE-WHITE! For an instant, the corridor was illuminated in stark relief. Pumpkin saw Pound and Gummy, in silhouette, looking towards the windows.
A heartbeat later: K-K-KI-KIRAK-A-KIRKA-DOOM! DOOM! Doom! The entire House shook as the voice of the Storm Giant burst upon them.
Loud! So loud! Pumpkin cringed despite herself. The Cellar had been safe. The House had become strange and dangerous.
Blind and deaf, she searched the Hallway for her brother, to hold and reassure him. He’s probably a little upset right now. But, although she groped through the darkness, she couldn’t find him.
Then the Front Door slammed open and the storm blew inside.
The Front Door had become a portal of bitter wind and cold rain. Pumpkin put her head down and struggled towards it.
“Close, please,” she asked the Front Door. The Front Door was problematic at times, but it usually obeyed her.
But now, the Front Door did not close. Looking more closely, Pumpkin saw that the Front Door was not only open, but gone! Poor Mr. Door, snatched away by the storm!
Pumpkin Cake crept up to the doorway and looked up in horror.
No. Nothing can be that big, she told herself, shaking her head. Nothing alive can be so monstrous!
But it was.
The Storm Giant was mountainous, swelling over the horizon. Its upper body was that of a furious, wild-eyed black stallion. Its lower body was a terrible gray funnel of wind that howled and groaned.
The Storm Giant’s eyes flashed, blue-white. Lightning burst from it. Its enormous forehooves reared up and crashed down upon Ponyville.
K-KIRAK-K-KIRAK-K-A-DOOM… DOOM… Doom… doom. The detonation of its hooves pounding against the sky and earth seemed to echo forever.
And the Storm Giant was coming closer, looming ever larger as it advanced inexorably upon the House on Sugar Cube Corner.
Pumpkin fell back from the door. “Mom?” she whispered. “Dad?”
She looked around. The hallway behind her was empty. Pound had disappeared. So had Gummy. Pumpkin Cake was alone, in the entrance to Sugar Cube Corner, the House’s last defender before the approach of the terrible Storm Giant.
No. No. This is too much for me, she thought. I’m just a baby.
The Storm Giant swelled over the town. Wind was its vanguard. Rain, its banner. Thunder, its voice. Again, from beneath its sodden mane its mad eyes flashed. Its hooves slammed down against the gentle earth. KIRAK-A-DOOM DOOM Doom!
Pumpkin shuddered. She struggled to find her voice.
“MOMMY! DADDY! WHERE ARE YOU? IT’S COMING! THE STORM GIANT IS COMING!”
Pumpkin searched the bakery. “Mommy? Daddy?” she called. No answer. The bakery and the kitchens were cold and dark. The playroom she had shared with her brother was empty. A wet, chill wind blew through the once-familiar rooms. The curtains flapped dismally in the open windows. The house seemed to cower before the approaching storm.
Pumpkin left the bakery and ran up the stairs, the sodden, cold breath of the Storm Giant chasing after her.
She looked into the family room. Empty. She ran to her parents’ bedroom and, timidly, peeked in. Again, empty.
I’m not going to cry, she told herself. I’m a big pony. I will be brave.
“Mommy! Daddy!” she called. “Please!”
Pumpkin turned to the bedroom she shared with her brother. Pound, that big chicken, I’ll bet he’s in there right now, hiding under the Covers! she thought.
Pumpkin ran inside. The once-familiar bedroom now looked huge. The distance from the door to the Bed appeared vast. The floor and walls were striped in impenetrable shadows.
Then Pumpkin looked to her right and gasped. The Closet Door was ajar! The Closet Monsters are loose!
Right now, the safety of the Covers seemed like a good idea to Pumpkin.
She galloped to the Bed. The Bed was empty. Stupid brother! Where is he?
“Pound?” she cried anxiously. You big blockhead, please be okay. “Gummy?”
Pumpkin looked up at the Bed and her favorite Blankie. Her horn flashed. Her quilt, warm and fluffy with the familiar chewed corner, flapped up and flew down to her.
Is this cheating? she asked herself, as she pulled the quilt around her. Is Blankie still a Cover, away from the Bed? I don’t know, but it’s still my best chance to keep the Monsters away.
The bedroom windows had stretched and stretched until the whole room was exposed to the sky. Outside, right outside, the raging Storm Giant covered the heavens, driving the stars away with its fury. Pumpkin hunkered down under her blanket and prayed, Move on. Move on. Please, move on.
Then, as if in answer to her prayer, the Storm Giant swiveled, eyes ablaze. It turned.
And it looked directly down at her.
No! Pumpkin thought.
The Storm Giant grinned. It reared back, determined to stamp the full force of its hooves down on her, to crush all of the love and hope that Pumpkin Cake held in her heart.
Then a voice called out, “Pumpkin Cake! To me!”
Pound! Pumpkin thought. She turned, saw a black, winged silhouette of a baby pony, and galloped towards him.
You big dummy! Where were you? Pumpkin ran to him, desperately. Maybe the Covers would protect them both from the Storm Giant, maybe they wouldn’t, but she was her brother’s last, best hope. Pumpkin raced the lightning to save him.
But the shadow was not Pound. It was a little pony, dark blue, winged like Pound but with a horn like Pumpkin.
Boldly, the little pony caught up Pumpkin with one wing and held her close.
“I AM WOONA, PWINCESS OF DWEAMS!” declared the shadow, in a voice that seemed to fill the whole world. She stamped her hoof and glared at the Storm Giant. “GET THEE DOWN, TYRANT OF THE SKY!”
The Storm Giant looked surprised, then enraged. It frantically called up all the wind, rain, thunder and lightning at its command and hurled them at the House on Sugar Cube Corner.
The sky exploded. Light and sound raged about them. Pumpkin closed her eyes tightly and shrank under her Cover. But Woona and the House were steadfast and were not harmed.
Woona released Pumpkin, spread her wings and rose in defiance of the storm. Although only a baby pony, Woona's wings seemed to span the night.
“BE GONE!” bellowed Woona. From her horn, shining silver, a lance of the purest white light thrust into the black skies, piercing the dark heart of the monster.
The Storm Giant fell back, roaring NOOOOoooooooo…, its voice sinking lower and lower until it faded into a distant grumble.
The wind fell. The rain became a friendly patter of drops. In the night sky, the clouds calmed and the brilliant points of stars peeped here and there. The windows returned to their normal size. The familiar bedroom was restored.
The Closet Door closed with a definitive thump.
But still Pumpkin pulled her Blankie around her and shivered in terror.
Woona turned her brilliant gaze down upon Pumpkin, perplexed.
“THE STORM GIANT IS VANQUISHED, CHILD. IT TROUBLES YOU NO MORE. YET, YOU ARE STILL AFRAID. WHY?”
Pumpkin shrank under Blankie, shrank down into herself and peeped into the Abyss.
Woona, her eyes blazing with an illumination more terrible, more fierce, more piercing than the Storm Giant’s, floated over the tiny foal.
“WHAT IS IT THAT YOU FEAR?”
“Mommy and Daddy have abandoned me,” Pumpkin replied, miserably. “I’ve searched and searched the house and they are gone! Mommy and Daddy are gone! They’ve left me alone! I’m not their baby anymore!”
Pumpkin couldn’t hold in her tears any longer. She sobbed, choking, as her heart broke. “Mommy. Daddy. Please. I want to always be your good baby. Please come back. Please!”
Woona descended. She drew her wings in from the night and wrapped them gently about the tiny foal.
“Ah, child, I understand,” she whispered. “My own parents are a thousand years gone, so I have faced your fear.”
“Really?” Pumpkin asked, tearfully, nuzzling against Woona’s chest. Woona seemed smaller now, but still strong. Like my brother.
“Yes,” Woona said quietly. “My sister and I, we have said goodbye to so many, so very many, over the long years.” Woona hugged Pumpkin tightly, as if she wanted to hold onto this one small soul forever.
“I will not comfort you with a lie, Pumpkin,” Woona continued, pulling back the quilt and brushing Pumpkin’s mane. “One day, you will be parted from your parents.
“They will not go willingly. Nor will it be easy for you to release them.
“But, from my heart, I swear this to you: there is peace beyond the grief. Your parents will not change, in your memory, when they are gone, except to grow sweeter as their faults fall away and their wisdom guides you to your better nature.
“They will give you their best and it will live on in you. And in your children. And in theirs. And so you are all eternal.”
Woona nuzzled her. “Do not be concerned if you do not understand. This is a tale you will discover for yourself. The tale of life. And what lies after.
“And I promise I will be there to guide you and hold you. At the end.”
Woona rubbed Pumpkin’s mane lightly and grinned. “But, be of good cheer. That day lies in the far future, and before that, child, you have a whole life to lead. And your life will be long and most remarkable. I know.”
Pumpkin sniffled as Woona stroked her and held her close. Woona was warm. She’s a nice little pony, thought Pumpkin.
“Sister?” Pumpkin looked up. Pound was standing before her, looking about uncertainly.
“I asked Gummy to find you,” explained Pound. “He seems to know his way around here. Wherever here is.”
If it was possible to swish a tail smugly, Gummy did so now. Mission accomplished, the little alligator skittered off into the darkness.
“This looks like our house. But it isn’t, is it?” said Pound.
“You are most wise, Pound Cake,” said Woona, somberly.
This surprised Pumpkin. Wise was not something she associated with her brother. She looked at her brother with a new curiosity and respect.
“This is, perhaps,” said Woona, “an idea of your house. An architecture of unconscious fear and hope that you and your sister share. I see that your souls are still joined, so that you follow each other even in dream.
“Your house, your real house, and your parents, are safe and awaiting your return.
“But first!” Woona announced, brushing her wings, suddenly business-like. “There is the matter of cookies!
“I don’t know about you two, but an oatmeal-raisin or cinnamon-apple cookie would suit me just fine right now.”
Woona giggled then and Pumpkin and Pound couldn't help but laugh with her. Pumpkin finally set Blankie aside (Well done, you!, she thought) and hugged her brother. Pound, for once, hugged her back. Then the twins, grinning, both pounced on Woona and chased the baby alicorn around the bedroom until they were all on their backs, legs up in the air, chuckling.
When they finally all calmed down, they looked at each other and announced, as one: "Cookies!"
The twins and Woona raced from the bedroom and down the stairs. The House now seemed warm and welcoming, almost apologetic, as the trio tumbled laughing down the stairs to the kitchens.
As they entered the family kitchen, the clouds parted to reveal the glowing Moon. A shaft of white light illuminated the room, gleaming across the freshly-scrubbed floor and the familiar worn countertops.
I feel Mom and Dad here! thought Pumpkin, excitedly. I don’t see them, but they are everywhere around me.
“Look there!” cried Pound. He pointed.
On the opposite side of the kitchen, upon the twins’ little table, close to the floor below the Big Ponies’ table, was a disk of purest alabaster. Upon this plate were displayed the precious foods of the Ancients, round, warm and shining in the pale moonlight.
“Whoa!” said Pumpkin, taken aback.
“Yum!” said Pound, leaning forward.
Woona gestured grandly with one wing. “Behold! The Wegendawy Pwate of Cookies!”
But then, terrifyingly, across the floor of the night kitchen, a black shadow appeared, crawling towards the twins’ table and its treasure. Crawling with relentless reptile determination.
“What is this?!” cried Woona. “What tweachewy! It appears that Gummy seeks the cookies for himself! Will this be awwowed, my fwiends?!”
“NEIGH!” shouted Pumpkin and Pound Cake, together.
And then Pumpkin and Pound, and their new friend, Woona, the Queen of Night and Mystewy, galloped across the kitchens of Sugar Cube Corner, in pursuit of the toy that would not sit still.
***
In the morning after the storm, in the kitchens at Sugar Cube Corner:
“I tell you, Cup, these kids, these kids of ours…,” said Carrot Cake, wiping his eyes.
Carrot had just come up from the cellar. He set down the empty tray and went to hug his wife.
“What’s wrong, dearest? They’re all right, aren’t they?” asked Cup Cake. They were both tired and a little groggy from staying up all night during the giant storm. At one point, in the midst of the rain and wind, Cup had been holding the ladder steady while Carrot spread a tarpaulin across a place where the roof leaked. Some of the outside trim was broken, the backyard was a mess and there was still a drip in the utility room, but Cup thought that they had come through it all right. Cup had even lit the bread ovens; she figured there’d be a lot of hungry ponies in Ponyville today.
Carrot chuckled, wiping his eyes again. “Oh, they are more than all right. Pinkie says they slept the whole night through. Didn’t mind the storm at all. Good as gold. But let me tell you what little Pound did.
“You know how much he likes his milk? Can’t get enough of the stuff. So when I gave him his milk and cookies, do you know what he did?
“He grabbed his little cup and looked ready to guzzle it down. Then he stopped, thought for a minute, marched over to Opalescence’s empty food bowl and poured it in. That cat looked surprised, let me tell you! And while Opalescence lapped up the milk, Pound just sat back hugging the cat’s little toy mouse. He looked so happy!
“Oh, and then Pumpkin! Guess what she did! She broke up one of her oatmeal-raisin cookies and gave it to that bird from the Library, Owlowiscious. And you know how much Pumpkin loves oatmeal-raisin.”
Carrot Cake looked down at his hooves. “These kids, giving their treats to the pets that watched over them all night…. They are so thoughtful, open-hearted and generous. So perfect. I feel like, sometimes, that my whole life was just getting ready for them, you know?”
Cup stood beside her husband and leaned against him, sharing the warmth of her body.
“We’ve done pretty well, I think,” said Cup, quietly. “Our children will be all right.”
Carrot nodded and hugged his wife tight.
“But I still want you to get that old banjo out,” chided Cup, as she nuzzled her husband’s neck. “You owe me that performance of ‘Froggy Bottom Breakdown,’ remember.”
Carrot Cake leaned against his wife and smiled. We’ve got a whole life left to lead, he thought.
Then he remembered the waiting bread ovens and the kitchens of Sugar Cube Corner leapt into life.