Background Pony

XV - Being There

Dear journal,

How does a pony affect the world around her? Does she play an active part in the community? Does she work closely with individuals, or does she work from the shadows, pulling strings from a distance?

What if she can do neither of these things? What if she still wishes to make the world a better place for everypony she knows and loves? What if those whom she cares about could never know a single thing she's done, good or bad, to properly thank her for the motivation to begin with?

I'm rediscovering a truth. In this village that serves as my prison, and on the fringes of a haunted landscape between the firmaments, I'm starting to grasp something that was taught to me long ago, but only now makes sense.

Improving the world is not always about adding things to it, or removing important factors. Construction and destruction are simply means of shifting around the elements that are at our disposal. It's far too easy to forget that we ourselves are factors that mold and shape this universe, and oftentimes the best way to solve a problem—or at least understand it—is by simply being there.

It is suddenly storming. I don't think I will make it home in time to stay dry. I'm running and running as fast as I can. Gaaah! Slippery puddles! Gotta be careful. Mommy's gonna be mad at me for ruining my mane. Of all the worst times to go outside...

There's a flash of lightning. I hear myself shriek and I gallop faster through the rain-slicked streets of Canterlot. I can see my apartment up ahead. Oh sweet Celestia, I am so soaked!

I come to a stop in the stairwell to my home, skidding into the shadows. I bump into a wall and wince. I don't realize how cold I am until right now. I shiver in the crook of the alcove, watching as streams of rain trickle down from the overhang above. The planted trees and flower gardens along the sidewalk are being flooded in the ugly, gray weather.

"Ohhhhhh..." I moan. I look at the candied cone levitating in my telekinesis and pout at the sight of all the ice cream having washed away. "Unnnngh!" I moan again, stamping a green hoof. "And I just gave away my only two bits!"

I turn the cone over and over in my magical grasp. There's another boom of thunder, but it no longer frightens me. With a dull spirit, I lean forward and lightly nibble on the edge of the cone. It's soaked and soggy and thoroughly ruined by rainwater, but a tiny piece beneath it all is still sweet. I suckle on the sensation, hoping it will prepare me for the tongue lashing I'm about to get from Mommy. With a heavy sigh, I trudge up the steps of the stairwell towards my apartment door on the second story.

I hear something. It's different from the rain and my hoofsteps and the thunder. I stop in my tracks, feeling thunder again, this time in my chest, for I realize that the odd sound is coming from directly beneath me. Slowly, I squat down and peer through the gap between the steps, curious as to the source of the labored whimpers and sobs.

It is then that I see her, curled up in the corner, shadowed from the rain and lightning. She's small, about my age, only tinier than me. She doesn't have a cutie mark either. I can't see her face from all of the red and violet tangles of wet mane hair muffling her cries.

For some reason, I'm not afraid. I swallow the cone whole and nearly gag. "Bleachk... Tastes like cardboard!"

I giggle at myself, but the filly doesn't laugh one bit. She's too busy crying. It's like she doesn't even know that I'm here.

"Hello?" I march quietly down the steps and move towards her, smiling. "Did you get caught in the rain too? It's all because of those lazy pegasi! Ugh! I wonder if this happens everyday in Cloudsdale. Heehee! What do you think?"