http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6559985/1/A_Friend_for_Derpy_Hooves Your Most Royal Highness Princess Celestia, Greetings and salutations, Your Majesty. I am writing to you on this, the fourth month since my stationing in the small town of Ponyville, with my weekly report. Everything is going along splendidly, as it has been for the past few months, and I am sorry to admit that I do not have any great message of import to transmit to you. We are rapidly approaching the Winter Wishes Celebration, and we are currently making plans to select a sapling to erect in the front yard and decorate. I am hoping that crafting the ornaments by hoof will help her improve her hoof-eye coordination, especially on a much finer scale than she is used to working with. Her job continues to bring her great satisfaction, and the updates I receive from her superiors are simply sterling. With best wishes until I write you next, Your most faithful servant, Honey Muffin A young, tangerine-colored mare pushed the half-open gates aside as she stepped into the enclosed front garden. It was only a low wall, and so even from the outside (where she had gathered the day's mail from its designated box) she could admire it, the neat rows of roses and lilies growing exactly where she had planted the seeds only a few months before. Sure, they had grown a little faster than normal, but that was one of the perks of making friends with a flora-minded unicorn. Friendship had been her mission all along, after all. The scroll naming her current assignment had arrived several months ago, impressing the young mare because it had only been a scant few weeks since she'd graduated from her studies at Canterlot. The request had been ... odd, probably the oddest scroll she would ever receive. But who could turn down a request from the Princess herself? Honey Muffin edged the front door to the little cottage open with her hip, trying to balance both the mail and the groceries in her front foreleg as she wobbled her three-legged-gait towards the kitchen. Her most recent scroll to the Princess still sat on the counter, waiting to be sent, and bounced out of the way as she unloaded her day's purchases. She didn't have the house to herself for very long; she heard her housemate's hooves on the back steps as she was unloading the third bag, and turned to greet her with a smile as the door swung open. "Good afternoon, Bright Eyes. How was your route?" "Pretty good. I had to deliver a really big package; I wasn't sure I'd be able to make it all the way to Grandpa Root's place, but I did all right." Bright Eyes replied with a smile of her own, her 'good' eye focused on Honey Muffin and the other angled in a different direction, as was usual for her. It had earned her the nickname "Derpy Hooves" amongst some of the less-kind members of the town, especially those who were still earning their friendship sparkles. It was also the reason Honey Muffin had been sent in the first place, so far from her old home in the distant, elegant Canterlot. "Good, good. Could you put these in the ice-box for me? I went to the market while you were at work. I thought we could go pick out our Winter Sapling once you got home, if you weren't too tired." Honey Muffin returned cheerfully, smiling back at her housemate as Bright Eyes carefully edged the jars and bottles into their enchanted ice-box, a common fixture even here in Ponyville. It was funny; when she first received her assignment from the Princess, she'd been afraid that the smaller town would be terribly backwards and old-fashioned. When she heard how poorly the inhabitants had treated this poor pegasus, her concerns grew. Thankfully, things had turned out much better than she had anticipated, especially in regards to the wall-eyed young pegasus. Honey Muffin had been briefed by the Princess in her first (and only) royal audience, mostly regarding the nature of her assignment in Ponyville. She'd been briefly informed of the town's location and general description, although the bulk of their discussion had been focused on Bright Eyes herself. She was something of a loner, making her an anomaly in a town of highly friendly ponies, and she had been shunned for it. It was generally assumed that the nickname 'Derpy Hooves' had come about from some of these attempts to befriend her, which often resulted in nothing more than a confused, wall-eyed stare and a quick shuffle in the opposite direction. How could those ponies know that the shuffle was due to poor depth perception, instead of any lack of intelligence? Although Celestia had neatly avoided the issue of how, exactly, the pegasus had come to need her aid, she had gathered a few things both from idle conversations with her and the other town's inhabitants. Although she had been warned the pegasus was of below-average intelligence (both by her appearance and reluctance to converse with the townsfolk), Honey Muffin had found Bright Eyes to be surprisingly bright, pardon the pun. While she didn't have the depth perception of an average pony, or the large circle of friends that seemed mandatory in pony society, she was rather well-spoken, once you got her to start talking. It would seem that she was simply not used to being around more than one or two other ponies at a time, as insane as that sounded. A pony, shunning large groups of friends? It was like a fish shunning water. Understandably, Bright Eyes had not been very excited about the new pony invading her home. Her unfortunate little home had been located on the far edge of town, tucked away in a copse of tall trees, nearly invisible to the untrained eye. But a mandate from the Princess was not as easily ignored as the other ponies in her home town were, and so Bright Eyes had been relocated to a nice-sized cottage closer to the middle of town and the post office, under the pretense of "making friends with the newcomer and showing her around town." As mail-pony, she knew every inch of Ponyville, making her an exceptional guide for Honey Muffin. Yes, as strange as it had sounded, the pegasus who was regarded as socially inept and possibly mentally delayed had been entrusted with a mail-delivering route. How that logic worked, Honey Muffin had NO clue. Luckily for Bright Eyes, it seemed she had a friend in the gruff older mare who oversaw the Ponyville branch of the Pony Express, and so she was given a decent-sized route. It seemed to be one of the rare jobs in pony society where being socially inept was a benefit, rather than a detriment; unlike most of the other mares on her team, Bright Eyes took no time out to idly chat with the ponies she delivered to, and was always the first one back from her deliveries. But no amount of 'Best Mailpony of the Month' plaques could replace the void a lack of friendship caused in a pony, Princess Celestia had insisted, so Honey Muffin had been sent to 'show her the light,' as it were. "I've always wanted a Winter Sapling." Bright Eyes murmured over her shoulder, her good eye warming with delight as it landed on Honey Muffin, the other directed somewhere over her guardian's left shoulder. "You've never had one before?" Honey Muffin replied as she pushed the bag of grain into the cupboard, her eyes a little wide with surprise. How could that be? A Winter Sapling was as much tradition as - as anything! "Nope. Saw a couple in ponies' yards when I delivered the mail, though." She replied simply, stepping back to her side to snag the next item for the ice-box, placing it carefully in its place. It was a sign of how much she had progressed, Honey Muffin noted with pride, that the jar didn't clank against the others as Bright Eyes shoved it blindly inside. She was getting better at picking up on depth, even if she'd never be equal to a more sighted pony. "Well, they're very fun to plant. And then you get to decorate them with little ornaments! I picked up some extra glitter and glue, now all we need are some pinecones from the forest, and we can make our own!" Honey Muffin chirped, edging the last box into the cupboard, giving it a little push so that it would close right. This little cottage, lying dormant for so many years, had taken a fair amount of fixing up until it had met Honey Muffin's standards for proper pony homey-ness. The garden had originally been Bright Eyes' domain, until Honey Muffin had seen the hodge-podge little holes she'd dug, ready to be filled with seeds. No sense of order at all! But Honey Muffin had quickly rectified that, working with the shovel until her dark blond locks had stuck to her neck from the perspiration. That was her job, after all; to show Bright Eyes how a proper pony lived, with friends and a neatly ordered home and a steady job. Bright Eyes didn't KNOW that was her job, perhaps, but there it was. She seemed perfectly happy to accept Honey Muffin as her slightly-bossy assistant, and what was the harm in that? "That sounds really nice." Bright Eyes murmured, almost to herself, as she carefully closed the door to the ice-box, smiling at Honey Muffin a little wider as her smile was returned. "Good! Shall we go right now, then? They should still have some saplings left to choose from, and then we just have to get it planted and speed-grown." Honey smiled, her long tail flicking behind her as she headed out of the kitchen, trotting briskly off to find her winter blanket. It was getting colder outside, nowadays; it was a wonder that Bright Eyes managed to fly around in such cold weather! Then again, most pegasi were bred to withstand the cold, more so than little earth ponies like Honey. Most pegasi, in fact, had their homes in the clouds or trees, a testament to their agility in the air and attachment to nature. Imagine the scorn Bright Eyes must have felt, then, to not only be a pegasus with an abnormal symbol (bubbles were an object found in nature, sure, but not nearly as commonly as a gust of wind or a flower), and also unable to sleep in one of those cloud castles that each pegasus built for him- or herself. She had never seen Bright Eyes build one, either; it was highly likely she couldn't, but Honey didn't want to hurt her feelings by asking. "Heavy wings" were not something to be proud of, after all. "All right." Came the faint answer from the kitchen, and by the time Honey Muffin had found her blanket, Bright Eyes was waiting by the front door, wings folded snugly against her back, her good eye locked on Honey Muffin as the other one wandered somewhere to her left. The pair trotted towards the center of town in relative silence, Honey Muffin trying to make idle conversation as always, with gentle replies from Bright Eyes. She was surprisingly talkative, once you got her going. She lit up like a Winter Sapling covered in candles every time a pony recognized and greeted her, though. Even if it was only 'Happy Winter Wishes, Bright Eyes!,' it seemed to add a little bounce to her step, until it almost seemed that she was gliding next to Honey Muffin rather than walking. Although Honey Muffin hadn't ever heard her talk about it, she must have been very lonely before she'd made friends in town. They arrived at the Winter Sapling 'shop' in the center of town without much delay, and began browsing amongst the little green saplings in their sparkly pots. Although it wasn't a physical shop per se, the seasonal set-up always seemed to occur in the town square, just as it had in Canterlot for the previous years of Honey Muffin's life. "I like this one!" Honey Muffin declared after a few minutes of silent, concentrated perusal of the rows of tiny saplings. Although each tree was of a different type, the special surprise was that on the morning of the Festival, each tree would bear fruit, declaring the type of fruit that would be enjoyed for years to come. Most of them were common apple saplings, but there were some rare varieties, and every year brought a new wave of foals and fillies hoping for something particularly special. After the Festival, each fully-grown (thanks to the flora-mages of the town) tree would be carefully, magically moved into each family's back yard, to be doted upon until the arrival of the next Winter Wishes Festival. The choosing of a Winter Sapling was a very important, very serious matter, at least in Honey Muffin's upbringing. The sapling she had chosen seemed the most sturdy, and she could practically smell the luck coming off of it. She just KNEW it had to be a plum or pear tree! Her quick glance around the rows of miniature trees brought her thoughts of pear tarts and plum smoothies to a sudden halt. Standing at the very end of one of the rows, her nose practically touching the smallest, feeblest sapling, was Bright Eyes. Surely, she couldn't want to take THAT sad little thing home, could she? It didn't even look healthy enough to have been brought to sale at all, with most of its leaves falling off like that. It should be taken home and nursed back to health, not planted in their front yard and decorated! "I like this one." Bright Eyes replied with a little smile, glancing back up at Honey Muffin from where she'd been examining the little sprout. "Can we take it home?" Inwardly, Honey Muffin warred with herself. She should be teaching Bright Eyes how to live life the way a normal pony should, which included picking the biggest, strongest looking sprout, to ensure many future harvests of its fruit. It was only practical! But if Bright Eyes wanted the little gimpy one, who was she to stop her? It was half her home, after all, and the one she'd be living in by herself, if Honey ever got released from this assignment. So after a moment to consider it, staring down at the sparse little thing in its pot, she finally spoke, abandoning her first choice. Good-bye, pear tarts. "Sure! That looks like a nice enough sprout." When Bright Eyes' eyes lit up, she knew she'd made the right decision. Within a few moments, the pair had paid for their little Winter Sapling (which, if Honey Muffin wasn't mistaken, had lost a few leaves when Bright Eyes picked it up) and were soon on their way home, the sapling tucked into one of Bright Eyes' official mailpony saddlebags. They had almost passed by Mr. and Mrs. Cake's shop entirely when the delicious smell of freshly-baked Festival cookies hit Honey Muffin's nose, and she stopped and turned suddenly, calling back to her housemate. "Bright Eyes, c'mon! Let's get something before we go home!" Their breath fogging up in front of them, the pair soon darted into The Cake Shop, Honey Muffin shivering as she laughed with Bright Eyes. "Two Festival cookies and hot chocolates, please!" Honey chirped between giggles, tugging the coins out of her saddlebag as Mrs. Cake set to work. As they waited, Honey Muffin's eyes happened to land on Bright Eyes, a small smile playing around her mouth as she watched Honey Muffin shiver. "What?" "Nothing." Bright Eyes said in her soft little voice, her smile only widening as they caught sight of the elaborate Winter Wishes cake in the display case. "It's beautiful." She breathed, edging close enough to the glass to fog it up. A bit of an odd duck, to be sure. But, Honey Muffin supposed, Bright Eyes had never seen the finery of the town, living so far from it. She was basically reliving the childhood she never had - if she had a childhood at all. For every answer that she got about her 'charge,' ten more questions popped up. Honey Muffin smiled back at her, eyes bright and ears perked as Mrs. Cake called their names. The pair were soon on the road again, trying to juggle their treats while they trotted home, Honey Muffin shivering all the harder in the cold gusts of air that whipped around them. It was only a little after midday, but the air was still freezing, the sunshine weak and filtered through the heavy cloud cover. "More snow tomorrow." Honey Muffin glanced up from where she had been focused on the slushy ground, ears pricking forward. "What?" "More snow tomorrow. Or tonight, if the clouds shift quick enough." Bright Eyes glanced up at the sky, her good eye focusing on the clouds directly ahead of her as the other wandered aimlessly. "Oh. Are all pegasi this good at weather interpretation?" Honey Muffin smiled, tugging at her coat, trying to settle it a little higher around her shoulders. It was chillier than she'd anticipated; if only she'd brought her scarf! "I've spent my whole life here; I know how the clouds move." Bright Eyes answered with a little shrug, moving closer to Honey Muffin to spread a wing over her chilly companion. Honey Muffin glanced at her in surprise, ears pricked, only hesitating a moment before a smile curled her lips and she snuggled closer to Bright Eyes' side. "Thanks, Bright." "No problem, Honey." The pegasus murmured, their steps matching as they walked the much-warmer path back to their cottage. The next morning dawned cloudy and cold, just as Bright Eyes had predicted, but she was out of bed before the sun had even risen. With frost still on the windows and Celestia's time not even begun yet, she slid out of bed, brushing her mane and readying herself for her daily route. Through rain, sleet, snow and hail, nothing would stop the ponies' mail! But before she left their home, Bright Eyes poked her head into Honey Muffin's room, watching her sleep peacefully for a moment before ducking back out. She felt a little bad, just leaving Honey Muffin alone every day like this; she was new in town, and even though she didn't really need Bright Eyes' help anymore, she still fretted over her. Bright Eyes had never had anyone to fret over before. She'd never really had anyone hang around long enough for her to even get to know, except Mom of course. And when she - she of all people, the most productive mailpony but most ignored townspony - had been selected for the honor of showing her around - oh, it was indescribable! She was scared, of course, of sharing a house with someone after so many years of living completely alone. But she was excited, too, more excited than afraid. She had never had anyone to protect, or keep safe, but she knew that she would be good at it, she just knew. Just like she knew she was good at delivering the mail, she would be good at this too. She alighted on the rooftop of the Pony Express building promptly at 4:55, leaving her just enough time to slide down the Bright Eyes-sized tunnel that poked out of the top of the building. It was a little sooty, but that was just because the slide hadn't been cleaned in awhile. She arrived in the main mail room exactly on schedule, precisely three minutes before she was supposed to be there, her good eye roving around the room to look for her work station. It tended to move, if you didn't keep an eye on it just so; one day it had been next to the window, and then it had moved to beside the slide! Why they lit the slide on fire she would never understand, but it certainly kept things warm. Luckily for Bright Eyes, today her mail desk was next to the slide, and she hopped into her seat just as the lead mailmare stepped into the room, hefting several large bags over her brawny shoulders. But before Bright Eyes could trot to help her with sorting along with the other ponies, the mare stopped her. "Ey, Bright. You got a special delivery today, gotta go talk to a peg fella outside." The mare whuffed, giving her tail a sharp little snap in that direction as the other pegasi clustered around her, busily divvying up the mail by quadrants. Bright Eyes blinked at her for half a moment, then took off for the front door a little slowly, uncertain about this. She had done some special deliveries in the past - usually for the ponies who needed things done fast! - but this didn't sound like any of the ponies from town that she knew. And he certainly didn't look like anyone she knew, either. Pony feathers, she barely knew any boy ponies at all, so the fact that she didn't recognize him didn't immediately register in her brain. But the armor was something she'd never seen on any pony in Ponyville, and it made her a little afraid. His hair was all pushed up and spiky, like a brush, not like Big Mac's hair. His hair was nice and soft, he'd let her touch it once. This looked .. weird. "Mailpony, here are your packages to be delivered." The stallion spoke in sharp, clipped tones, not meeting her eyes, or even her good one. He stared straight ahead, and his wing gave one little jerk towards the pile of boxes that had been piled next to the little cart he pulled. Oh, that was a lovely cart. Despite her duty, Bright Eyes found herself drawn to the intricate, filigreed vehicle, all white and gold and shiny-bright even in the dim beams of the barely-risen sun. Before she'd quite realized what she was doing, she had inched over to it, completely unaware of the stallion's eyes on her as she drifted a little loopily to the cart behind him. It was small, just big enough for one pony to ride in, but he'd arrived alone. This must have been where the boxes were carried in on, he couldn't have carried them all otherwise. Goodness, look at all that detail, even on the inside of it! Even if no one would ever see it, it was swirly and golden and so very pretty. Bright Eyes wasn't sure she had ever seen anything so pretty before, in all her life. Her eyes slowly followed the heaviest of the filigreed swirls from where they circled around the gold-and-white wheels, their spokes elegant and tapering, up to where the swirls became well-oiled straps of leather connecting to the stallion's armor. Golden and shimmering, it protected his back, shoulders and legs, with the helmet as a separate piece up top. And that was hair sticking out of it, wasn't it? It was blue, just like his tail, so it must have been his own hair. How had he gotten it to be all brushy like that inside his helmet? Did he have a special brush? Maybe he did, but it must be a soft brush, because his hair still felt so soft, like a broom made out of - pony hair, or bunny fluff, or something soft like that. Maybe he used a special soap to - "Excuse me. Mailpony." The stallion asked, his voice a little strangled as he stared up at Bright Eyes in confused distress, the closest a palace guard would ever allow himself to become. "The packages?" He asked the blue pony currently hovering above him, stroking his mane with a vague, far-off gaze in her eyes, neither of which focused on him. Bright Eyes' good eye abruptly zoomed in on his face, meeting his confused gaze, then quickly whisked away again as she pulled back, bringing herself back to the ground with a little backwards-inside-out-loop. "Right right. Thanks for the boxes." And with that, she wrestled her four legs around the first one and took off into the air, looping a little to her left as she zoomed out of sight. A few streets passed before Bright Eyes realized that she hadn't checked the address on the first box, and so she settled herself down onto an empty patch of pavement to examine it. With great surprise (once she managed to translate the loopy, swirly writing used), she recognized the address as her own, although it was addressed to "Miss Honey Muffin," instead of Miss Bright Eyes. She wasn't sure if she even could be a 'miss,' but she knew Honey Muffin must be one; it said so on the box! But why did Honey Muffin have so many boxes coming to her? It just didn't make sense. But it wasn't her job to dissect the mail she delivered, so Bright Eyes simply lifted the box into the air once more, heading for home. The boxes were fairly heavy, but to a practiced mailmare like her, the weight wasn't difficult at all. She made the four trips back and forth between her home and the post office without any delay, and by the time she'd delivered the last box, Honey Muffin had woken up and taken off to parts unknown. Well, she wasn't home, so the least Bright Eyes could do would be to take the boxes to her room for her! The second part of her delivery went even quicker than the first, but after the first four boxes had been stacked up in her room, things began to get a little dicey. She eventually gave up on attempting to stack them all vertically, since they were starting to wobble quite a bit. But just as she settled the fifth box onto the floor, her back hoof nudged the pile, ever so slightly, in the spot where she couldn't see behind her. Like a stallion who had drunk too much, the pile of boxes shuddered, and slowly tumbled down, bouncing over one another. Bright Eyes attempted to catch as many as she could, their blunted edges dragging against her forelegs sharply, but she couldn't save the very top box as it tumbled behind her. It bounced once, twice, then the top finally gave way, popping open as piles of scrolls spilled out of it and onto the floor. Panicked, Bright Eyes fluttered over the floor, hurriedly scooping the scores of scrolls back into their box. A few of the scrolls had rolled open, so she tried to re-roll those as she went. It was difficult for a pony with very low depth perception to pick up all of the scrolls, but she worked as quickly as she could, not wanting to upset Honey Muffin with the mess. Then, as she was returning the last stragglers to their box, her askew eye lit on something familiar in one of the scrolls she was re-rolling. Slowly, she brought her good eye over to examine it, loath to break the sacred Mailpony's Code. But she hadn't opened it, had she? And besides, the scroll was about her, and there was no crime in reading something about her, was there? Her good eye quickly scanned over the line she had seen her name in, promising herself not to read anything more than what was about her. ... Derpy Hooves, who seems to be something of a recluse in the town, has a reputation of varying degrees amongst the other Ponyville population. "That girl ain't got nothin' 'tween her ears," was one notable quote, which seemed to be verified by the other members of town. The general consensus is that she is mentally incapable of caring for herself, which is all the more reason why your decision to send me here as her guardian was a wise one, Your Majesty. I will do my best with what base intelligence is there, but I must warn you that my recommendation might be for a group home for her, where she can be treated as the filly her mind believes her to be for the rest of her natural life. Although my aid would certainly help her, I could not provide her the twenty-four hour care she would obviously have need - "Bright Eyes?" The voice drew Bright Eyes' good eye away from the scroll suddenly, landing on the mare who stood in the door way. Honey Muffin smiled at her, with the same smile she'd been smiling for the last few months, needles and brambles tangled in her mane. A smile of friendship, or of pity? "Bright Eyes, what's going on? I went out to get some pinecones for us to decorate... what's all this?" She asked slowly, her eyes flicking over the scrolls, her eyes widening as she realized what she was seeing. Her eyes found the scroll under Bright Eyes' hooves last of all, and she darted forward, grabbing the scroll with her teeth, as if removing it from her sight could make Bright Eyes forget what she'd seen. She tossed it into the box without even looking at it, confirming Bright Eyes' suspicion. "Why were you looking at my mail?" "What was that?" Bright Eyes asked softly, her gaze dark in the one eye that fixed on Honey Muffin, the other wandering somewhere else as usual. "It was - it was nothing. You don't have to worry about it. It's just - letters from home, in Canterlot." Honey Muffin lied, hoping that Bright Eyes' delayed reading ability hadn't afforded her the time to figure out the basis of the scroll. What were the chances that the first scroll she picked up would mention her explicitly, right? "I'm not disabled, Honey Muffin. I'm not stupid." Bright Eyes said softly, her gaze fixed on her roommate. "You can't lie to me like I'm a filly." "I didn't - okay, I was lying, but - I don't think you're stupid! I just didn't want to -" Honey Muffin began, stumbling over her words. "You said you would do the best with my 'base intelligence.' That I was more of a filly because I was so damaged - in my brain. I'm not damaged." She said steadily, her scowl darkening and darkening until Honey Muffin feared she might burst out yelling, or screaming, or something hysterical and so very unfamiliar to the quiet pony she had gotten to know. But even as she waited for the volcano to erupt, the smallest of tears found its way down Bright Eyes' grey-blue cheek, and just like that, all of the fight went out of her. Her eyes were still narrowed, but now they were dark with hurt, not anger, and her wings drooped at her sides limply as her ears fell to half-mast. "Bright Eyes, I didn't mean-" "I'm not damaged. I did just fine by myself." Bright Eyes said suddenly, her words punctuated by a soft, sudden gulp, tears gathering in her yellow eyes. "I don't need you to babysit me anymore, Honey M-Mu-Muffin." And with that, she took off at a gallop, pushing past Honey Muffin and disappearing out the front door. "Bright Eyes, wait!" Honey Muffin cried out, galloping after her, but it was no use; by the time she'd gotten to the front door, Bright Eyes was gone. The harsh, cold air whipped around Honey Muffin as she galloped through the streets of Ponyville, but she paid it no heed. Even as the frozen air bit at her exposed neck and chest, she hardly felt it past the haze of confusion that surrounded her, choking her. She had to get herself under control: take charge of the situation, be logical about it. Bright Eyes must have been delivering the scrolls from Celestia that she'd requested. That was simple enough; she'd requested them from Celestia's scribes almost at the beginning of her assignment. She had intended to compile them in a more organized fashion, since there were so few studies on ponies with mental defects. She'd even considered another degree, using her notes and letters as the foundation for her thesis. Nothing strange about them arriving, really. She'd just forgotten how much time had passed since she moved to Ponyville, is all. A few ponies turned to watch her as she tore through the streets, their confusion fleeting but brief. Plenty of ponies were running last-minute errands, what with the Winter Wishes Festival almost upon them. One mare tearing through town wasn't enough to raise any eyebrows, even if she was without any protective winter gear. But why had Bright Eyes opened them? No, that wasn't like her - she never went snooping through Honey Muffin's mail, even though she delivered something for her almost every day. She didn't bother to hide her curiosity, but she never pressured her about it, either. She just liked to be around when Honey opened it, to see what was going on in the far-off place Honey Muffin had come from. Bright Eyes had never been beyond Ponyville's borders - she'd told her that once. It seemed like so long ago now. Tears suddenly stung at Honey Muffin's eyes, but she kept moving. Bright Eyes had never received any mail; a cruel irony, seeing as she was a mailpony. The best mailpony, Honey thought bitterly, the tiniest of choked cries escaping between her gritted teeth. Honey Muffin had found it a little annoying at first, the way she waited for her paycheck to be mailed to her every week. After the efficiency of Canterlot, Honey Muffin found it a little ridiculous that a mailpony would demand for her paycheck to be sent to her home, wasting the efforts of some other mailpony on such an insignificant thing. But during all of the months that she had been there, Honey Muffin had never seen Bright Eyes receive any other mail, except for the paycheck. It was her sole letter, and she delighted in it, eagerly checking the mailbox for days before its arrival. It broke her heart, to think of how callously she'd viewed Bright Eyes when she'd first arrived. Thinking her childish for enjoying her one thread of equine contact, trying to sneakily determine how disabled she was to take such joy in a single letter. Honey Muffin's gasps had become half-sobs by the time she reached the edge of the Everfree Forest, her chest heaving from the effort. She was more of a bookworm than an athlete - but still she pressed onward, moving slower as she tried to find something to follow. Bright Eyes was flying, but what she lacked for in hoof prints she might make up for in broken branches, or parted clouds, or something. She refused to believe that she could just disappear into the forest, never to be seen again. That's what she'd done, though, for so many years. She had lived on the very edge of the Everfree Forest, like a hermit. But -! She would have gone back to her old house, how could Honey Muffin have overlooked that? She broke into a run once more, ignoring the shooting pain in her legs as she galloped along the edge of the forest. It should be right around - there! The path, already intentionally subtle, was almost invisible now, grown over and choked with vegetation. But she could see a few freshly-broken twigs on the floor of the overgrown trail, driving Honey to gallop once more. The branches dug into her fur as she tore through the overgrowth carelessly, but she refused to slow down. "Bright Eyes!" She cried out as the small cabin came into view. It wasn't very deep into the forest, just a few yards in, although the dense vegetation kept it all but invisible to the outside. She'd only been here once before, and only very briefly; she shabby little cabin looked even shabbier, and the faint patches of moss that had begun to grow up its sides had now dominated most of the walls, and seemed to be staking a claim on the shingled roof as well. There was a dark gash where the shingles had caved in, but Honey Muffin hardly noticed it as she galloped towards the front door. She had to fight her way there, the garden now overgrown to jungle-like proportions. With a final yank of her tail, she freed herself from the garden's brambles, pushing the door open with her forehead. "Bright Eyes?" She repeated hopefully, chest heaving as her eyes danced around the interior of the cottage. She scanned, twice, hoping she had somehow missed her friend's wall-eyed visage, but it was no use. The cottage was empty. Bright Eyes, if she had ever been here, was gone. She stood in the doorway for a moment, the cold settling into her bones, then slowly walked inside. She plodded over to a rough-hewn wooden chair, settling herself down as it creaked dangerously under her weight. Everything was covered with a heavy layer of soil and decay; in the months that it had lain abandoned, time had not been kind to it. The caved-in roof brought a beam of sunlight to the otherwise dim room, its one window too weak to provide much illumination. Only the furniture remained, but even that only gave the barest hints of what it must had been like to live here. There was a pile of straw in one corner, moldered away to almost nothing, and a fireplace in front of the small, lopsided table and chairs. Small stubs of candles scattered here and there, along with the small weeds and sprouts that had taken root in the dirt floor without any pony around to clean them up. What would she do? How could she leave Bright Eyes out here, utterly alone? Honey Muffin was her friend; and to be honest, Bright Eyes was one of the most loyal friends she'd ever had. She was kind, and sweet, and funny in her own strange way, sharing in-jokes as gleefully as a schoolfilly. A tremulous sniffle escaped Honey Muffin as she stared down at the weeds, wondering if her tears would provide enough moisture for them to survive indoors. She was nice. She put up with Honey Muffin, much more nicely than half of her schoolmates had; she didn't think Honey was too studious, or too much of a neat-freak. She didn't get mad when Honey wanted to line up the plants in the garden just so. She listened to her when Honey went off on her rants about improper citations, even when she didn't understand what a citation was. And even if she thought Honey Muffin hadn't noticed, she always came in to check on her in the mornings, just to make sure she was okay. Eventually, Honey Muffin pulled herself up heavily from the chair, doing her best to stifle her whimper with a foreleg dragged across her nose. She moved where her eyes had lingered on one of the weeds, weary and disinterested. This one had bristly-looking flowers, ones that Bright Eyes would have probably eaten, "just to see how it tastes." The memory brought a small chuckle to Honey Muffin, making the sadness that followed all the more unbearable. She watched the weed for a moment, her thoughts unfocused, and found herself idly brushing her hoof over the dirt beside it. Her eyes slid away from the weed a little lazily, tears blurring her vision as she pulled her hoof back to look at the dirt underneath it. There was her hoofprint, just as she'd known it would be. But there, too, was another one, just beyond it. Honey Muffin's thoughts abruptly crystallized as her vision seemed to narrow, unable to see anything but the hoof print, and the one after it. And the one after that, too. A line of hoof prints, leading to the back of the cabin - no, to the door inset in the back of the cabin, barely noticeable except for the faint thread of sunlight around its edges. Honey Muffin surged forward, heaving her shoulder into the door with all her might. The moss-leaden door swung open, revealing the clearing that surrounded the little cabin. The line of hoof prints continued forward, disappearing into the undergrowth. Honey Muffin charged ahead with her eyes locked on the ground before her, following the trail of hoof prints deeper into the Everfree Forest. She ran for as long as she could, even as the sunlight began to fade. The forest was already dim to begin with, and once the sun began to slide downwards, things only got darker - and colder. She couldn't stop the shivers from cascading over her every time she stopped running, so she did her best to keep on the move, jogging in place whenever she had to pause to find the hoof prints again. Lucky for her, it would seem Bright Eyes didn't want to fly the rest of the way, making her a great deal easier to track. Honey just hoped her luck held out long enough to find her friend. She didn't like the sound of spending the night in the Everfree Forest, especially not alone in the middle of winter. Her hoofbeats became livelier when she found a small path worn into the underbrush, leading her even deeper into the rapidly-darkening forest. Logically, she knew she needed to stop and get out of there: she would do no good freezing to death out here in the middle of nowhere, especially since she was probably going in circles. But if she left, it meant Bright Eyes would be left out here alone, and she just couldn't let that happen. Despite the fact that Bright Eyes felt the cold far less than she did, she refused to leave her out here, for reasons she couldn't quite explain. Honey Muffin came to a slow halt when something strange caught her eye, glimmering in the periphery of her vision. She slowly turned, hesitant to leave the path, then took off at a trot, counting her steps carefully so she could find her way back. But even as the sun set over the forest, a dim glow drew her forward into a small clearing of hard-packed earth. A circle of white stones of varying sizes dominated the center of the circle, probably as wide across as Honey was long. The rocks were all various sizes, and seemed to glimmer in the fading sunlight, glowing gently under their own power. There was no other item in the circle; just the stones, pressed close enough that the seams were difficult to make out in spots. Even as she watched, a few small glow bugs ventured forward, wheeling over the circle in energetic patterns. She forced herself to look away; it was not as difficult as it would have been only a few days earlier. These stones were unlike anything she'd ever studied, but compared to the task at hand, they were merely distractions. As she turned towards the path once more, she caught sight of another faint light in the distance. After squinting at it for a moment, she realized that the light didn't bob like a glow bug, and it was far too low to be the moon or stars. Hope nearly choking her, she took off at a blind gallop, driving herself through the prickly underbrush at breakneck speed, every muscle in her body seeming to protest. But the light seemed to get bigger and brighter with each step, and the superficial pains seemed to get weaker and weaker. She learned to lift her hooves higher after she tripped over the first fallen tree, but that didn't keep her from falling when she reached the clearing. She went down surprisingly hard, considering there were no longer any brambles to trip her, but even before she landed she was propelling herself towards the light. As she got closer, she recognized the faint flickering as candlelight, streaming from a small, squarish window. She didn't dare slow down, afraid the light would disappear, but she had spent too much time in academia to avoid noticing her surroundings even as she ran. The clearing was larger than the one Bright Eyes' cabin had been built in, although the garden in front of the cottage was still overgrown and more jungle-y than anything she'd seen before. The cottage had even more moss growing on its sides, but as compared to the smaller cabin, this one almost looked better for it. It seemed to be returning to the forest as it sagged, in the tired way old houses do, but it still managed to hold itself together, and the light from within seemed to imply that it was still habitable. With a cry of triumph and exhaustion, she kicked the front door open, landing heavily as she stared into the room. This time, there was no crushing realization that she was alone; there were no weeds growing in the center of the ill-lit room, no hole in the ceiling to let in the moonlight. There were a handful of candles scattered throughout the low, long room, a packed-earth floor, and Bright Eyes sitting in front of the fire. Her expression shifted from surprise to wounded anger with surprising speed as she pulled herself upright, grey-blue ears pinning back against her mane as she regarded Honey Muffin with her good eye. "What do you want." She stated flatly, and if Honey hadn't known her so well, she would have missed the reddening around her yellow eyes, just like the time she'd come home early after Snips had called her Derpy Hooves to her face. Honey Muffin stood in the doorway, her heart pounding in her throat, her hooves seemingly locked in place. She wanted to run to her, but her hooves remained glued in place, and her words remained tangled in her throat. Bright Eyes glared at her for a moment with her good eye, then looked back at the fire, something in her expression wilting. The sadness in the motion made Honey Muffin's heart twist, driving her forward a few steps. "I- I didn't - I didn't mean to hurt you." Honey Muffin said suddenly, the words too loud in her ears after the quietness of the room. Bright Eyes' yellow eyes, fairly glowing in the dim room, immediately snapped back to her, the anger rising in her expression once more. "Didn't mean to hurt me? You told Princess Celestia that I was - that I - there's nothing wrong with me." She insisted, struggling not to let the hurt show in her words. "I know, I was wrong to write that. I was just looking at you as -" "There's nothing wrong with me!" Bright Eyes barked, her words uncharacteristically sharp, her eyes blazing. Honey Muffin's eyes widened a little in reply, and her stunned reaction only seemed to drive Bright Eyes onward. "Just because I didn't go to school in Canterlot doesn't mean I'm dumb. I'm not some child you have to babysit! I let you boss me around because -" And here some of the fire went out of her voice, the hurt returning to her glare. "Because I thought we were friends. Being bossy doesn't mean you're a bad friend. But a bad friend is someone who - who looks down on their friend." Honey Muffin let the silence stretch out for a moment, finally speaking as Bright Eyes turned away to frown at the fire once more. "I'm sorry, Bright Eyes." She whispered, trying to swallow back the lump in her throat before continuing. "I - I was mean." She looked away when Bright Eyes looked back up at her, suddenly unable to meet her gaze. "I wanted to help. When I first got here, I should have just told Celestia that you weren't as bad as she thought, but -" She spoke in a bit of a rush, trying to get the words out as her sentences began to run into one another. "So I thought, if I could teach you to be normal, then, well, Celestia would think I was a great teacher, brilliant, and all of that. But that doesn't matter to me anymore, because - because after I got to know you, I realized that I didn't want to go back to Canterlot without you. You're the closest friend I've ever had, Bright. You're the first pony who hasn't called me bossy, or a know-it-all. You ... I dunno." She fell quiet, scuffing one hoof against the floor. When Honey Muffin looked up again, Bright Eyes was a few steps closer, looking her over appraisingly. "Just because I'm not like you doesn't mean I'm not normal." She said, hurt still shining in her eyes. "Well, you're - you're not like most other ponies though, either." Honey Muffin ventured, ears falling to half-mast when Bright Eyes frowned at her. "Sorry. I - I didn't mean - that was-" "True." Bright Eyes murmured, frowning at her before she looked away, her eyes traveling around the room. This time, it seemed that the askew eye was more of a benefit, allowing her to take in more of the dim room at once. "You're right." She sighed gently, her eyes returning to the fireplace, gazing at the small objects on top of the mantle. "I'm not like other ponies. Neither was Mom." When Bright Eyes went silent, Honey Muffin leaned forward a little, venturing softly, "Mom?" Bright Eyes nodded slightly, her eyes slowly returning to the fireplace, more defeated than angry now. "Things were easier when it was just me and Mom." She murmured, her ears flattened in grief. "Mom never thought I was weird, Mom said ... she said I was her special little Bubble." Bright Eyes stared into the fire, almost able to see her mom's face there. She had so many fond memories of her - of laughing with her as a filly, showing her all of their favorite places in the Everfree Forest, teaching her how to read and write. Just her and Mom, for almost all of her life, until a couple of winters ago when she - She suddenly came back to herself when she felt a cold wave wash over her. But not just the cold shiver of a painful memory; this time, it was the sensation of a cold coat being pushed up against hers. "I don't think you're weird." Honey Muffin whispered, keeping her head down as she pressed her side against hers, trying to comfort her. "I think you're the nicest, best pony I've ever met." Bright Eyes glanced down at her, hesitating for a moment, then slowly spread her wing over the earth pony's tawny-gold coat. "I'm still mad at you." She whispered, her voice tight with tears as she drew Honey Muffin close. "That's okay." Honey Muffin murmured, bringing her head up to nuzzle against her neck. "I'm sorry." "I know." Bright Eyes returned softly, her body still against Honey Muffin's for a moment before she suddenly pulled away. Honey watched her go uncertainly, relaxing when she saw her return with a heavy, woolen blanket gripped firmly in her teeth. She staggered a little when Bright threw it over her, surprised at its weight. "Bed's no god, all molded and moth-eaten." Bright Eyes stated simply, glancing at Honey Muffin for a moment before settling herself down onto the floor. Honey Muffin followed awkwardly, her body clumsy with cold, pressing close to Bright Eyes as she snuggled against her cold side under the blanket. "Better?" Bright asked, fumbling with the blankets, finally managing to spread her wing over Honey Muffin as the pair cuddled together. "Much." Honey Muffin breathed, pressing close to her friend, basking in her warmth. She let the silence stretch out between them as Bright Eyes laid her head down, then finally spoke in a low voice. "Bright?" "Mmm?" "You'll tell me when you're not mad at me anymore, right?" Bright Eyes was quiet for a moment, then looped one foreleg over Honey's middle, her touch gloriously warm after the cold forest. "Course." "Thanks, Bright." Honey Muffin whispered, staring at the fire sleepily. She thought she would never be able to sleep, but she slipped off surprisingly quickly, snuggled warmly underneath their shared blanket. Honey Muffin stumbled sharply as her hoof struck a rock, her eyes suddenly flying open. She might as well have kept them closed; the trees still looked the same, it was just the rocks underhoof that changed, tripping her in the darkness of pre-dawn. "I'm okay, I'm okay!" She protested blearily, taking a moment to gather her legs under herself. Bright Eyes glanced back at her, ears flicking forward to listen as the other filly trotted behind her, trying to catch up. She'd woken up Honey Muffin only a little while ago, and it had been even darker than it was now. She had her route to complete, after all, and she couldn't finish it stuck out in the middle of the forest. Neither rain not sleet nor hail nor emotional suffering would stop the mail! She could hardly leave Honey Muffin behind, sleeping or not, but she was beginning to rethink her strategy of bringing her along. She was falling asleep even as she stumbled behind her, doing her best to keep up even though she was bone-tired. Cold, too, but she wouldn't admit it, even when Bright Eyes noticed her shivering. Trying to be brave, perhaps, so Bright Eyes wouldn't worry. Bright considered this for a moment, then came to a halt, waiting for Honey Muffin to catch up. "Grab on." "Grab - what? Pfhaw!" She sputtered as a yellow tail abruptly slapped her in the face. "Why'd you do that?" "You were supposed to grab it." Bright Eyes said simply, backing a little closer to Honey Muffin, not trusting her to stay upright long enough to get to her. "You grab onto my tail, and I'll lead you around the obstacles." Honey Muffin stared down at her yellow tail for a few moments, debating it, then leaned forward to grab a hold. She might have protested longer if she wasn't so bone-tired. After spending most of the previous night gallivanting around the forest, her legs were dead weight, aching dully as she stumbled along behind her roommate. She didn't even have the brightness of day to keep her awake; in the ever-present gloom of the Everfree Forest, it was nigh-impossible to tell when her eyes were open or shut. It was easier to follow behind Bright Eyes now that she had something to hang onto, so she stumbled after her a little less violently, angling gently to one side of the path to avoid a fallen tree that she only noticed as they passed it. As her eyes drifted over the fallen trunk, something in the periphery of her vision caught her attention, making her drop Bright Eyes' tail. "Hey! That's the - the thing! I saw it yesterday!" She called, turning to trot towards it, stumbling and weaving through the underbrush. "C'mon!" It was only a few moments to stumble her way over to the circle of glowing stones, gleaming out at her from the darkness like a beacon. She turned to smile at Bright Eyes proudly, despite her exhaustion, as the pegasus caught up to her. "I found it last night when I was looking for you. Maybe we could take one of the little stones on the edge, you know, for our Winter Wishes tree?" "That would be nice. I think Mom would like that." Mom? What did her mother have anything to do with that? Honey Muffin looked between the somber Bright Eyes and the glowing stones blearily, trying to put the pieces together, despite the early hour and her aching limbs. What did Bright's mother have to do with a pony-sized circle of glowing stones? Bright Eyes' mom was dead, she didn't - "Oh Celestia. Bright Eyes, I'm so - I didn't - your mom -?" "Loved glowbugs." Bright Eyes murmured, smiling faintly as she gazed down at the stones before them. She stood in place for a moment, her peaceful expression at odds with the tension in Honey Muffin's face, and moved forward. She knelt in front of the stones, her knees resting against the glowing rock, before she lowered herself to lay her cheek against the cairn. "She and I hunted down these stones and put them all through the garden, so we could see glowbugs whenever we wanted." She spoke softly, and Honey Muffin had to edge a little closer to hear her. "She called me her little glowbug when I was little. She joked about it, said Celestia had misheard 'Bug' for 'Bub' and gave me bubbles for my symbol instead of buggles." She smiled gently, and let her eyes close as she nuzzled against the rock. She was quiet for several moments before speaking again, her voice as small and fragile as a child's. "I miss her." Honey watched for a moment, eyes dark with shared pain, before she knelt beside her, pressing her shoulder against hers in a gentle motion of support. "She sounds like she really loved you." "She did. And I loved her, too." Bright Eyes sniffled, but when she opened her eyes, she was smiling, gazing at Honey Muffin instead of the rocks. She was quiet for a moment before she spoke, usually a sign that she was going to come up with something strange, like 'Watch out for the muffin trolley' or 'Today I upped the down motion.' But instead of any of those things, she said, "I think she would have liked you," and before Honey could reply, she bent down to tug at a medium-sized stone on the edge of the cairn, freeing it from the earth. "For our garden." She explained simply, and a moment later Honey Muffin reached out to help her lift the stone into her mailbag, storing the glowing cargo safely away. Slowly, as the oppressive darkness began to lift over the Everfree Forest, so too did the silence between the two mares, broken at first by tentative questions that soon grew into a steady stream of conversation. Although they had been living together for months, neither had mentioned their families in any great detail; now Honey Muffin regaled Bright Eyes with the infamous Winter Wishes That Almost Wasn't, a tale she remembered fondly from her childhood involving way too many candles on the Winter Wishes tree, and in turn Bright Eyes described how her mother had once filled the entire house with dragonflies in a misguided attempt at conservation. Before either of them expected it, they found themselves at the edge of the Everfree, looking out at Ponyville as the morning dawned over it, bright and new and more welcoming than anything Honey had ever seen in her whole life. They were quiet for a moment, enjoying the quiet of the town without the streets filled with bustling ponies, before Bright Eyes broke the silence. "I should get to the post office, I don't want to be late." She said with a determined little nod, and Honey Muffin could almost picture the next plaque for 'Best Mailpony' reflected in Bright's eyes. Her determination faded a little as she looked Honey over, bedraggled and run ragged by the forest. "Are you going to be able to get home okay?" "Yeah, I'll be fine. You deliver the mail, I'll see you when you're done." Honey Muffin smiled at her, giving her tail an (she hoped) energetic little swish. Bright Eyes lifted off, hovering in place for a moment as she eyed her, struggling to see her out of both eyes at once. Abruptly, she fluttered close to nuzzle her cheek, careful not to bump into her too violently, her warm nose sparking a flood of warmth across Honey Muffin's face. For whatever reason, the first thought that drifted through her mind wasn't I'm being nuzzled by Bright Eyes, but She certainly has improved her depth perception. "Thank you for coming to find me, Honey. I'm not mad at you anymore." Honey Muffin smiled, more brightly than she meant to, and gave her mane a shy little toss as Bright Eyes pulled away. "You should go, I don't want you to be late to work," she insisted gently, one hoof pawing the earth as Bright Eyes smiled down at her, her misaligned eyes warm and trusting. Honey Muffin somehow felt warmer and more trustworthy, just by that look alone. "Right!" Bright Eyes nodded, and kicked into the air, somersaulting once before she took off at top speed, disappearing in a serpentine blur of blue and yellow. "See you soon, Honey!" Honey Muffin made the rest of the way home with a bounce in her step, despite the leaden exhaustion that still weighed down her limbs. Even as she collapsed into her bed, too tired to care about the dirt that got tracked onto her sheets, Bright Eyes' words still rung in her ears. The last thing she saw before she fell asleep was her smile, brilliant and fairly glowing with happiness. Glow-Bug, indeed. Even for a seasoned mailpony, the day's deliveries took exceedingly long to complete. It seemed that every time she returned to the post office, there was a fresh pile of boxes for her to deliver, despite her speed and often-awarded skill at delivery. Even her fellow mailponies were too busy to chat during their routes, racing in and out of the small building in multicolored blurs. It seemed everypony was bustling around twice as quickly as usual, and Bright was momentarily afraid she might be unseated from her current position as "Mailpony of the Month." "Stamp." The tall mailmare glanced up from her clipboard, glancing around the small room with a frown. Where was Bright Eyes? That was definitely her voice, but she couldn't seem to locate her. "Stamp." Stamp glanced up, above her, where Bright Eyes floated upside-down, her misaligned eyes mere inches from Stamp's face. Lucky for Stamp, she was used to Bright Eyes' quirks. Hell, the kid slid in down the chimney every morning, standing on the ceiling was comparatively normal. "Yes, Bright Eyes? You need something else to deliver? I could give you some of Twister's deliveries, if you're already done with that pile I got you." She said briskly, eyes returning the clipboard, idly checking off a few more names as ponies disappeared with packages. "No. I was wondering - why is everything so busy today? We have more deliveries than usual." "That's because - pffthb, gack-" Stamp whuffed, twisting her head away sharply when she got a mouthful of Bright's mane, "that's because tonight's the Winter Wishes Festival. Everyone's gotta get their presents delivered on time." "Tonight?" Bright Eyes asked, her eyes widening, looking upon Stamp (and the desk across the room) with panic. "But - it's tomorrow!" "Nope. So if you -" but Stamp was cut off as Bright Eyes took off in a flurry that ruffled Stamp's mane, disappearing out the large window that all of the mailponies used when they were making their deliveries. The next few hours went by in a similar blur; all across the town, packages were delivered by any means necessary, if they didn't answer their doors quickly enough. Luckily, none of the presents shoved down chimneys got burnt, and even the package that somehow got wedged in through a doggy door came through it all right. But despite her speed, Bright Eyes still arrived home as the sun was beginning to set, the streets nearly empty and the windows lit. Even the Cakes' bakery was closed, its sugary delights shrouded in darkness as Bright Eyes flew past it. Many of the Winter Wishes trees were already lit up and decorated in their yards; by comparison, the scrawny shrub that stood in the center of her garden looked even smaller and sicker. As she passed, Bright Eyes tugged the glowing stone from her mailbag, gently settling it beside the baby tree before she continued into the house. "Bright! You ready to make some ornaments for our tree?" Honey Muffin called from where she lay in front of the fire, soaking up the heat. After her night in the Everfree, she was not leaving her only source of warmth so readily. Bright Eyes abandoned her satchel as she settled down beside her roommate, looking over the pine cones and glitter thoughtfully as Honey Muffin pushed them towards her. "I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you put the tree in the garden." Bright Eyes murmured a few minutes later, her hooves already covered in copious amounts of both glitter and glue. "Work was really busy today." "I bet, I saw mailponies flying everywhere today." Honey Muffin answered peaceably, smiling as she watched Bright Eyes work. "It wasn't too hard. I was thinking - we could change the garden if you want, so it looks more like your garden back home?" Bright Eyes glanced up at this, meeting Honey Muffin's shy, uncertain glance, and smiled. "I'd like that a lot. Thanks, Honey." "No problem." Honey Muffin murmured, looking down at her array of glittery pine cones for a moment before she chanced a glance back up at Bright Eyes. She watched her work for a moment in silence before speaking again, hesitant to break her deep concentration for something so trivial. "So. Um. I know - I know you said your mom called you Bug, but - how did Bright Eyes come about? Your name, I mean." "Celestia." "Celestia named you?" Honey Muffin gasped, leaning closer to her, despite how close they were already. "Nope, Mom named me. Named me Bubbles. She didn't believe in naming before your symbol showed up, so while I was little, I was just Bug. Then she gave me my grown-up name to go with my grown-up symbol." She beamed proudly at the memory, her wings fanning out at her sides. One bumped gently against Honey's side, but she barely noticed, and Honey didn't mind any. "But when Celestia came and found me, I was so scared, I couldn't say anything. She thought I must be an orphan, so she gave a new name and moved me into my new home, closer to the town." She nodded to herself at the memory, folding her wings back against her sides. "I never knew that." Honey Muffin murmured, blinking back at Bright Eyes before finally giving up and snuggling against her side. She was only a few inches away anyway, why bother? "Would you prefer if I called you something else?" Bright Eyes considered it for a few moments, and finished glittering her pine cone before she finally answered. "I wouldn't mind it any. It's been a long time since anyone called me Bubbles. Even longer since they called me Bug." She glanced back at Honey Muffin, some of her friend's shy nervousness reflected in her wall-eyed gaze. "Okay - Bugbles." Honey Muffin murmured, mashing the names together in her nervousness. She stared at Bright Eyes in horror for a split-second before the pair broke into laughter, nudging and butting at one another playfully. The moon shone above them brightly as they finally trekked into the darkened garden to decorate their Winter Wishes tree, spangling its branches with a hodgepodge assortment of glittery pine cones, candles, glittered envelopes, and spoons. "Spoons are lucky." Bright Eyes/Bubbles had insisted, and Honey Muffin hadn't protested. As they finished up, other families emerged from their well-lit houses, glancing up and down the street as an excited murmur began to grow in the chilly air. "What are they doing?" Bright Eyes asked, glancing up and down the street as well before looking to Honey Muffin. "They're waiting for the flora mages. They'll come and magic the trees to be all grown up, and then everyone finds out what kind they got." Honey Muffin explained, giving the last candle on the tree a little nudge, so that it balanced just so on its branch. "And then everyone goes inside and eats their Winter Wishes cake. Some people eat it tomorrow, but when I grew up, we always ate the cake right before bed." "Oh." Bright Eyes said simply, then glanced down at her hooves, giving the snow around them a little nudge. "But we don't have any cake. The bakery was closed when I flew by." "Well, we could always buy some cake tomorrow." Honey Muffin answered comfortingly, then glanced up at the moon, silent for a moment. "Or we could eat the cake I got for us while you were working." "You got us a Winter Wishes cake?" Bright Eyes looked first at Honey Muffin, then back at their house, as if she expected to see it hiding there just inside the doorway. "I couldn't let you have your first Festival without cake! But they sold out of the littler ones, so I had to buy the biggest one they had." Honey Muffin grinned, watching as Bright Eyes fairly danced from hoof to hoof, wings spreading and flapping a little in her excitement. "So I hope you really like ca- whoop!" Bright Eyes seized Honey Muffin's tail and dragged her back inside, kicking the door shut before dragging her back to the kitchen. Although they ate themselves sick on cake, and then even had enough left to eat themselves sick the next morning, they managed to drag themselves to the front window to look at their tree. During the night, it had been sped-grown into a magnificent starfruit tree - "the only one on the block," Honey Muffin noted proudly, before Bright Eyes distracted her with a tail-tug and a sticky-sweet nuzzle. Once they were less distracted, they both agreed: this was most definitely, without a doubt, the very best Winter Wishes Festival ever.