Strange Waifus: A Breezie Love Story (unfinished) (repost)

>You are anon.
>You've been in Equestria for a couple of years now, give or take.
>Most ponies are used to your presence by this point, though they don't necessarily appreciate it.
>Some are friendly.
>Most are just nonplussed.
>A couple are pure assholes.
>And at least three seem to just get a kick out of dramatically screaming and fainting whenever you walk past.
>When you first got here, you had met the leaders of this land.
>Celestia and Luna, they called themselves.
>Apparently they controlled the sun and moon.
>Your oh-so-witty retort to that nearly got you incinerated.
>After that kerfuffle, they just asked a few basic questions and told you to behave yourself.
>Well, that and make you a citizen of Equestria.
>That was nice of them.
>A pension was provided, until such time as you could find work.
>That didn't take long, what with the whole fingers thing.
>In the land of the boxing glove, the pointy thin stick is king.
>You decided to settle in Ponyville, it being where you first appeared and all.
>You always were a tad sentimental.

>On the whole, Ponyville is mostly harmless.
>You'd had it pegged as completely harmless up until that parasprite attack roughly two months into your stay.
>Twilight apparently tried to cast some kind of spell on them to keep them from eating all of the towns food.
>It backfired pretty spectacularly, as the parasprites starting eating everything else instead.
>You were in the shower at the time, and those technicolor fuckers ate most of your clothing before you could shoo them.
>Whatever was left over had pretty large chunks missing from it.
>Most importantly, none of them had a crotch anymore.
>That made for an awkward trip to Rarity's place.
>What made it even more awkward was that somepony managed to get several pictures of you streaking across town.
>How their camera survived the parasprite swarm is still a mystery.
>What isn't a mystery however, is your penis size.
>Compared to your average stallion dick, it was kind of pitiful.
>It was pretty alright by human standards, a little above average even.
>But you're not comparing it to humans, now are you?
>It also seems that ponies don't find your particular body type attractive. Hairlessness really doesn't do it for them.
>The obvious downside is, despite the fact that you are now past your "Ew, horses" phase, nobody really wants to fuck you.
>This has left you rather lonely, not to mention sexually frustrated.
>But, at least for today, you can distract yourself with what ponies are calling the 'breezie' migration.
>You don't know what a breezie is, but you might as well check it out.
>Who knows? It might be interesting.

>As you crest the hill overlooking the breezie migration path, you see a large group of ponies gathered on the grass below.
>A few trees dot the field here and there, but the area is mostly free of large vegetation.
>It seems like this breezie migration is actually a fairly big thing.
>Most of the town has turned out, along with the mayor, and a number of vendors selling everything from ice cream to tshirts.
>Fluttershy and a couple of her friends stand away from the crowd a small distance.
>Pegasi fill the air above you, listening to orders from Rainbow Dash.
>You spot Thunderlane with them. He was a bro, albeit a bro with an annoying girlfriend.
>Blossomforth was her name, and dick jokes were her game.
>Mostly she just made fun of how small yours was, though.
>Turns out she was a bit of a size queen, and as such considered your penis to be especially pathetic.
>Thunderlane, however, was quite the opposite.
>According to Blossomforth, it was like comparing a baby carrot to a rolling pin.
>Not only was the remark insulting, but it managed to conjure the image of your friend's dick in your head.
>That wasn't something you really wanted to imagine.
>A better image would be Blossomforth, with her rear legs spread wide, her tail swept to the side...
>Her flower beckons, dripping with juices, the engorged clitoris winking in and out.
>Sky blue half-lidded eyes stare back at you, calling to you, begging you to enter her.
>You oblige, massaging her flanks with your hands as your manuever your towering erection into her beckoning entrance.
>You begin moving in and out, slowly at first, but gaining speed thrust by thrust.
>Your near your release, attempting to hold it off as long as possible, until-

>The sudden realization that you are standing on top of a hill, in front of a lot of ponies, spaced out, drooling, and pitching a massive tent brings you crashing back to reality.
>No one seems to have seen you, fortunately.
>Seeing as this boner isn't going to die down anytime soon, and the breezie migration seems to be starting, you elect to stay in your position on the hill.
>You didn't notice before, but an extremely soft breeze seems to be blowing through the area.
>Down by the crowd, there appear to be several dozen small creatures riding the wind.
>If you had to guess, you'd say that they were the breezies.
>Not that you could tell from here.
>Good god this was a shitty viewing position.
>It's not like you had much choice, but still...
>Welp, coming out here was pointless.
>On the plus side, you did get some new fap material. Thanks, imagination!
>Looking back down on the crowd, you catch sight of Spike attempting to climb a tree.
>He's surprisingly good at it, seeing as he's a tubby little ball of scales.
>...and now he's dancing in the tree.
>Good god he is such a dork.
>A leaf falls from the branch as he jumps on it.
>It floats along on the wind, making its way toward the column of breezies.
>The collision proves to be catastrophic, the leaf scything its way through the rear portion of the convoy.
>A dozen or so small specks go spinning off in multiple directions.
>Many land amongst the crowd, but a couple drift out beyond that.
>One seems to be floating in your direction.

>The breezie slowly becomes more well-defined as it drifts toward you.
>Despite the constant twirling, you can make out that it has a cyan coat, teamed with an orange mane.
>Oversized, pale blue antennae sprout from its head, and equally oversized wings make their home on the breezies' back.
>From the panicked yelling, you deduce that this breezie is a female.
>At least you think so. It's hard to tell without any kind of reference.
>Miss orange-haired breezie is now tumbling past your shoulder.
>You turn toward her, and slowly move your right hand out, cupping it in front of her.
>She gently collides with your palm. You barely feel the impact, actually.
>It lays in your hand for a moment before attempting to right herself.
>She looks pretty cute, you think.
>Her repeatedly trying and failing to get up only confirms this observation.
>With her senses returning, the breezie finally manages to sit up straight.
>At last taking notice of the hand it's lying on, the breezie traces her eyes along your arm, up toward your head.
>When it meets your gaze, it freezes, in what you have to assume is fright.
>She probably thinks you're going to eat her.
>With the look on her face, you're afraid she's going to have a heart attack.
>You don't particularly want to be responsible for the death of something so adorable.
>You've got to calm her down, and quickly.

>You decide that telling her you're not a threat wouldn't be a bad way to start.
"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you."
>These supposedly calming words do not have the intended effect.
>Your head was aimed right at her when you spoke, and your breath almost blew her diminutive form over the edge of your hand.
>She's barely clinging on at the end of your fingers, her back legs searching for purchase, kicking out under your fingernails.
>Judging by her shell shocked expression, that was not an enjoyable experience for her.
>Using your other hand, you help lift her back onto your palm.
>She's panicked, nervous to the point of barely being able to stand. Her yellow-orange eyes stare up at you, tears beginning to well along the bottom rim.
>Damn it did you fuck that up.
>Making sure that you're facing slightly away from her this time, you speak again, in as soft a tone as you can manage.
"Sorry about almost blowing you off my hand like that. I didn't mean to scare you. Please believe me when I say that I don't want to hurt you."
>She's shivering less now, but she is by no means calm.
>You figure it's best that she's taken out of your hands, seeing as you're not really adept at caring for such delicate and tiny creatures as a breezie.
"I'll take you back the rest of the breezies, is that alright?"
>She nods her head, almost imperceptibly.
>Looking down toward the crowd again, you notice that it appears to be thinning.
>You also notice an obvious lack of yellow animal-loving pegasi.
>Her friends appear to be missing, too.
>The breezies are also nowhere to be seen.
>Did the breezies rejoin with the main group?
>Or did yellowquiet and company make off with them?
>With your current cargo, you hope for the latter
>Well, there's only one way to find out.

"I can't see your friends from up here. We're going into the crowd down there and see if we can't find them, okay?"
>The breezie in your hand nods in understanding.
>You begin to walk toward the crowd at the bottom of the hill, but quickly run into a problem.
>The mere act of walking forward is blowing your teeny companion off of your hand.
>You cup your free hand over her, forming a protective shield.
>She meekly smiles in appreciation.
>Okay, breezies confirmed for adorable as fuck status.
>With her safety from errant gusts now assured, you begin your walk to the slowly dispersing crowd.
>You're in the crowd now, but there's still no sign of Fluttershy, or any of the other breezies.
>You decide to ask someone if they know where they went.
>A green-coated mare with a pair of caramel apples on sticks for a cutie mark gives you the gist of what happened.
>The breezies that crash-landed have been separated from the rest of their convoy, and won't be able to get back home without help.
>Help that can only come from other breezies.
>Breezies who will not be coming, by the sounds of things.
>Fluttershy has taken those that crash-landed back to her cottage for the moment, but she doesn't know how to get them home.
>This is troubling news.
>It hits especially hard for your passenger, who looks like she's on the verge of crying again.
>The poor girl must miss her home terribly.
>All the more reason to take her to Fluttershy and get this breezie the help she needs.

>You're almost to Fluttershy's place by now.
>It's taken you the better part of two hours, but you got there eventually.
>Not only was it a long walk, but your breezie friend accidentally got lost more than once.
>You told her to be careful, but she apparently doesn't like listening to reason.
>Silly girl.
>The still-unnamed breezie was now riding in your pocket.
>Your arms were getting tired from being held in front of you all the time, and the breezie was starting to get cold.
>So into your pocket she went.
>She seemed to be enjoying it, too.
>Her head was currently poking out of the pocket, her eyes were closed, and her mane was flowing in he breeze behind her.
>It was like a dog poking its head out of a car window.
>At least her tongue wasn't hanging out.
>The breezie opens her eyes, and notices you looking at her.
>She smiles warmly up at you.
>You smile back.
>Damn, is she adorable.
>This little breezie seems to have warmed up to you quite a lot.
>At least she's over the whole 'almost sent you plummeting to your light bruising' thing.
>You still feel a pang of guilt over that.
>Helping her get back to her group is the least you can do to apologise.

>You're at the cottage door now.
>A rap of your knuckles against the wood elicits no response from inside.
>That's worrying.
>You knock again, harder this time.
>A moment later, the door swings open.
>Ah, so someone is at-
>...home?
>The open doorway reveals nothing but an empty expanse of floor.
>That is, until Angel hops into view from behind the door.
>Why is the asshat rabbit answering the door?
>He seems to be trying to communicate.
>Translation officer, report!
>Aye, captain! The message reads as follows: "Go away."
>Well, that was the obvious response.
>Angel doesn't really like anyone. Except Fluttershy, of course.
>The fact that he tolerates anyone else is a borderline miracle.
>You figure you might as well try talking to him.
>For some reason animals around here kind of understand language.
>It's weird, but it's also convenient, so you don't really bother questioning it.
"Hi, Angel. Do you know where Fluttershy went? And did she have any breezies with her?"
>The rabbit sighs, and then begins pantomiming something.
>First, he puts his front legs on his head, with his paws dangling outward.
>What is that meant to be? Horns? Ears? Tentacles? ...Antennae?
>He then starts flapping his forelimbs like... wings, maybe?
>His front right paw then shoots out, pointing in the direction from which you came.
>Translation officer! What's taking you so long?
>I'm sorry, sir. It's unlike any other language we've encountered before! The translation takes ti- wait, no, we're done.
>Translation: "Fluttershy took the breezies back that way, dipshit."
>Well, fuck.

>Completely and utterly failing to thank Angel, you turn from the cottage and begin to make your way back into town at a markedly faster pace than before.
>It was okay. Everything was fine.
>If the group was going to take off, they would have to wait for her. Obviously.
>They wouldn't just leave one of their own behind, right?
>Of course, they might not know that she's gone.
>Or they might think she's dead.
>...
>Maybe you should start running?
>You look down to check on the breezie in your pocket.
>She seems slightly nervous, as if she has grasped the potential gravity of the situation as well.
>You smile reassuringly.
"Don't worry. We'll get you back to your group, I promise."
>These words make her perk up a bit.
>She understands that you will get her home.
>It's a promise you intend to keep.
>Making sure that your precious cargo is well-secured, and is in no danger of being hurt by any of your sudden movements, you begin to run along the path back into Ponyville.
>If you didn't make it back to the breezie migration path in time, this breezie could be lost here for a long time to come, maybe even forever.
>You wouldn't allow that to happen.
>You couldn't allow that to happen.

>Unfortunately, you are no shadowfax, and are incapable of explaining to anyone the meaning of haste.
>After only a few minutes, your all-out sprint has degraded into a particularly vigorous jog.
>Said jog has carried you through most of Ponyville, but is by this point in time ready to fail at any moment.
>Will means little to muscle fatigue, but will yourself on you shall.
>It's not too far now, anyway.
>Just up and over the hill, and then we're home free.
>The sun hangs low over the western horizon, casting long shadows at your feet.
>It's getting late, but you hope against hope that it's not too late.
>You're on top of the hill now.
>You don't see any sign of Fluttershy, or of the breezies.
>... No.
>You're not too late.
>You can't be.
>They're just somewhere in town, right?
>You must have run past them on your way here.
>They have to come here though, if they want to get the breezies home.
>So you'll just wait here until they come.
>It shouldn't be too long.
>Extracting the breezie from your pocket, you sit down on the grass with your legs crossed.
>Holding the breezie in your hands, you whisper words of hope to her.
"Don't worry about it, little guy. You friends will be here soon, and then you can go home."
>She looks up at you, and smiles a tiny, far-too-trusting smile.
>She then proceeds to sit in your palm, and wait along with you.
>It seems that she trusts you on this.
>That trust is at the same time heartwarming, and heartbreaking.
>Heartwarming, because you've never had anyone who trusts you this readily, and this completely.
>Heartbreaking, because you have the sinking feeling that you just completely and utterly betrayed that trust.
>But you have to have hope.
>If not for yourself, then for her.
>Fluttershy will come.
>You're sure of it.

>Two hours later, and you are no longer so sure of it.
>Fluttershy hasn't appeared yet, and neither have any of the other breezies.
>You've almost given up hope.
>It's long after sundown, and the cold of the night is beginning to seep into you.
>The breezie apparently feels the chill as well, seeing as she has retreated to your pocket.
>She was shivering earlier, but appears to have warmed up.
>Now all you can feel now is her breathing, slow and shallow.
>You think she's asleep.
>It's for the best.
>You wouldn't want her to see the proof of how much of a liar you are.
>But wait a second...
>What's that? In the sky!
>Is it a bird? Is it a plane? Is it Fluttershy?!
>Nope, it's Thunderlane.
>Huh. What's he doing here?
"Hey Thunderlane. What are you doing out here?"
>"I could ask you the same question, Anon."
"I asked first, though."
>"...Yeah. You did. I was just at The Salty Spittoon with Blossomforth. I was on my way home, when who should I spot but you, sitting on top of a hill in the middle of the night for no apparent reason. I thought to myself 'Why is anon sitting there?', and then I came up here to ask you that very same question. Good enough?"
"I guess."
>A moment passes in silence.
>"So, are you going to answer me?"
"I might as well. The reason that I'm sitting here, alone on this hill, in the middle of the night, is because I'm waiting for Fluttershy."
>"What, do you have a date with her or something?"
"As much as I would like that, no. Besides, we both know she's in love with her animals."
>You both share a chuckle at this.
>"So... what then?"
"Well, I found a stray breezie, and I was hoping to return her to her group."
>At these words Thunderlane turns silent.
"So, do you know where they are? I figured that they might still be with Fluttershy, her being their caretaker and all."
>He still doesn't answer.
>Oh no.
>Thunderlane has his serious face on.
>That never meant anything good.
>"Anon... The breezies have already gone home."

>Well that was hardly shocking.
>You had been dreading this possibility for hours, and his words only confirmed your suspicions.
>It's quite the blow to your hopes of getting this little breezie home.
>But wait...
>Just because the breezies are gone doesn't mean you couldn't still get her home yourself, right?
>It would take a while, but you should be able to trek the distance.
"But we can still take her home, right? We can carry her back to the breezies ourselves. That shouldn't be too hard."
>Thunderlane takes a moment to answer.
>"Anon, the only way for the breezies to get back to their home was through a magical portal. That portal closed at sunset today."
>But that means...
>Oh fuck.
"Are you saying that this breezie is trapped here?"
>A look of solemnity overtakes Thunderlane's features.
>"As far as I know Anon, yes."
>And just like that, your dreams of a happy ending for your breezie companion are shattered.
>This girl is going to be trapped here, away from her family and friends, for who knows how long.
>Maybe forever.
>There's no way around it: You have failed her.
>Way to go, fatass.
>You just had to be a slow-ass, unfit piece of shit, didn't you?
>Well, now your laziness has ruined someone's life.
>I hope you're happy.

>"Hey Anon, are you alright?"
>It seems that Thunderlane has taken notice of your pity party.
>Staring off into space with a mournful look on your face tends to give that kind of thing away.
"Yeah Thunderlane, I'm fine."
>He doesn't look like he's buying it.
>That scrutinizing glare is surprisingly intimidating, given that it's coming from a black licorice-flavoured marshmallow with wings.
>The fact that he's also pretty buff does not do anything to lessen the affect.
"Fine. I'm not okay, okay? I just ruined this breezie's life. Excuse me if that makes me feel a little shitty."
>The look of intimidation disappears, replaced by one of sympathy.
>Oh boy, here comes the hopeful speech.
>"Anon, you didn't ruin that breezie's life. What happened to it could've happened to any one of the other dozens of breezies that came with it. You shouldn't feel responsible for an act of random chance."
>Your response is swift, and filled with the white hot fury of regret.
"You're wrong. I should feel responsible, because I did ruin her life! I was too slow to get her to the other breezies in time! Because of me she's stuck here!"
>Thunderlane pauses for a moment.
>"You said you were too slow. When exactly did you get back to this hill, Anon?"
"At around sunset. I tried to run from Fluttershy's to here, but in case you didn't notice I'm not exactly a triathlete."
>"And at what time were you at Fluttershy's?"
"Uh... late afternoon, early evening maybe? Why do you ask?"
>"Anon, the breezies had already left by that time. There's no way you could've made it."
>That's not comforting at all!
>Thunderlane, you're terrible at this.
"So you're saying she would have made it home if I had just stayed here?"
>The pegasus in front of you droops a little.
>"That's not what I meant..."
"But it is the truth. This was my fault."
>"No it wasn't, Anon. You couldn't have prevented this from happening."
"No, Thunderlane. I could have prevented this. If I had just stayed here and waited for Fluttershy to come back, then everything would be fine."
>Thunderlane is visibly uncomfortable at your distress.
>Not that you care about that at the moment.
"I'm going home. I'll see Fluttershy about the stray breezie tommorow. Right now, I just want to sleep. Good night."
>You stand up, and begin to make your way past Thunderlane toward the bottom of the hill, before a voice calls out from behind you.
>"It's not your fault Anon. You have to believe that."
>You stop, clenching your fists in anger.
"Please stop lying to me, Thunderlane. It is all my fault. I trapped her here. You'd have to be pretty stupid not to realise that."
>With that said, you leave for home.

>You're at your house now.
>Just a few more moments now, and you can sleep.
>As you enter your home, a small movement in your pocket catches your attention.
>It seems your passenger has deigned to return to the land of the living.
>Her head pokes its way out of your pocket, taking in the scenery, before moving its gaze to you.
>As her eyes meet yours, her face breaks out in a smile, and you can't help but return the favour.
>She looks so sweet.
>So happy.
>You don't want to ruin that.
>Not for tonight, anyway.
>Tonight, she gets to sleep in peace.
>As do you.
>At the moment though, your breezie companion seems to be more interested in investigating the contents of your place.
>She floats to and fro, first investigating a nearby lamp, before moving on to the larger of your bookshelves.
>The breezie's path eventually takes her to the kitchen, and it's here that her curiosity starts to make you nervous.
>You had a sink's worth of dirty dishes on display, many of which were rather sharp.
>Not wanting to see her injured, you make your way into the kitchen, cupping your hands around her in a protective dome.
>Much like you did when you first met, you realise.
>Judging by her sour expression, she doesn't take this manhandling very kindly.
"Don't be like that. I just want to make sure you don't hurt yourself."
>Your words do little to quell her rebellious anger.
>Your smile, however, seems to have a little more effect.
>Her face softens ever so slightly, and the fury in her eyes fades.
>Wow. You didn't think that would work.
>In any case, you think that's enough exploration for one night.

>Breezie in hand, you make your way to the bedroom.
>Oh, sweet matress.
>The mere sight of it makes you feel that much more relaxed.
>Placing the breezie on your night stand, you strip down to your underwear and a tshirt.
>Then you lay down your sleepy head, and attempt to drift off into blissful unconsciousness.
>But before you reach that nirvana, the sensation of tickling on your chest prompts you to reopen your eyes.
>An adorable sight greets you.
>The breezie has laid herself down on top of your chest, nestling her way into your clothing.
>She rises and falls with your every breath.
>The movement seems soothing to her.
>And the sight of her sleeping there is soothing to you.
>You watch her for a short while, but you can't stay awake forever.
>Soon enough, you drift off into a dark and dreamless sleep.

>You awake to a curious sight.
>The breezie still occupies the same place she did the night before, only now she seems to have acquired a grape.
>A grape that you have no recollection of buying.
"Where did you get that?"
>"Oh, I brought it for her."
>JESUS CHRIST WHAT THE FUCK
>The shock of hearing a strange voice in your house just after waking up almost causes you to fall out of bed.
>Fortunately for the breezie, you catch yourself before moving too far.
>She seems unperturbed, still happily perched on your chest and continuing to devour her breakfast.
>"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."
>There's that voice again.
>You look toward the source of the voice, only to find Fluttershy standing in the doorway to your room.
"Fluttershy? Why are you here?"
>You decide to sit up before getting further into the conversation.
>In response to your movements, the breezie makes her way into your lap, where she continues to feast.
>"Um, well... Thunderlane came to see me late last night. He said that you had a stray breezie with you, and I thought that you might need help taking care of them."
>That sounded reasonable enough.
>Except, of course, for one thing.
"Okay, that explains why you came over. What it doesn't explain is how you got into my house."
>"Your front door was unlocked."
>Wait, what?
"It was?"
>Fluttershy nods in the affirmative.
>Oh.
>Fuck.
>You must've forgot to lock it after coming in last night.
>Way to go, moron. Anyone could've broken in.
>Thankfully, it was just Fluttershy.
>You make a mental note not to do that again.
>There are far more nefarious things in Equestria than this meek, animal-loving pegasus.
>And any one of them could easily steal your belongings, or even kill you if they felt like it.
>...
>They could even hurt the breezie.

>The same feelings of regret and failure that filled you last night threaten to overwhelm you once again.
>You just can't stop screwing up, can you?
>First you seperate this poor breezie from the only ponies she's ever known.
>Then you leave your front door open for anyone to enter, regardless of their intentions?
>Get it together, idiot.
>"Anon?"
>Fluttershy's words bring you back to reality.
>And her questioning gaze puts you on the defensive.
>"Anon, are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"
>"Well, it's just that you were kind of not really concentrating on anything just then, and you had this really angry look on your face."
"And?"
>Fluttershy's gaze turns serious.
>It's a rare sight, and an definitively unintimidating one.
>But you know well enough to respect her when she's got that face on.
>If you don't, her friends won't be anywhere near as forgiving as she is.
>"And it made me nervous, Anon. That kind of anger isn't healthy for you, or for anyone around you. Especially not when you're taking care of something as delicate as a breezie."
"Look, I said I'm fi-..."
>A moment passes while you process what Fluttershy just said.
"Wait. Are you saying that I'm going to take care of her?"
>This was a rather pleasant surprise.
>You had taken quite a liking to that cutie, and the idea of sending her away with Fluttershy wasn't exactly the happiest scenario you could envision.
>"If I can make sure that you aren't going to hurt her, yes."
>What kind of question was that?
>Of course you wouldn't hurt her.
>You were no sadist.
"I would never hurt her! I couldn't hurt her."
>"Are you sure Anon? Are you sure you could never hurt her?"
>...
>You know deep down that saying no to that would be a lie.
>You know, because you've already hurt her in the worst way possible.
>And lying about it is something you can't bring yourself to do.
"I... yes. Yes, I could hurt her. I know I can, because I already have."

>Fluttershy's expression becomes apoplectic at this revelation.
>You're actually kind of afraid of what she'll do.
>"YOU HURT HER?!"
>Woah.
>You've never heard Fluttershy shout before.
>You weren't even sure if she was capable of the feat.
>Well, now you know.
>"WHEN?"
>Judging by the angrily pulsating vein on her forehead, you should be answering the lady.
"W-when I first met her."
>"KEEP GOING."
"I couldn't get her back to her group. I tried to get her back to the rest of the breezies, again and again, but every time I was just too slow."
>Fluttershy's face softens, moving from anger, to confusion, and finally settling on sympathy.
"I tried and I tried, but I just couldn't do it. I cut her off from her friends and family. The way that I hurt her... I can never make up for it."
>Your eyes brim with tears, as the crushing weight of your failure bears down upon you.
>You have undeniably fucked up.
>All the evidence you would ever need of that is currently sitting in your lap.
>"...Anon, it's not your fault."
"Yes it is, Fluttershy. If I had just been that much faster, if I had that much more endurance, she would be home right now."
>"But she isn't, Anon. You can't change that."
>You fail to see how this is meant to cheer you up.
>"But that's not what matters."
>Oh. So it's one of those speeches.
>"What matters is that breezie. She is here, and she needs to be taken care of. Now, are you going to able to do that, or am I going to have to take her off your hands?"
>Despite the corniness of what Fluttershy just said, it does ring true.
>You need to get the fuck over yourself, and concentrate on the here and now.
>Specifically, you need to concentrate on this breezie.
>After all you've done to her, she deserves it.
>And you kind of like the idea of her sticking around.

>You look down at the breezie in your lap.
>She's finished her grape, and is now looking up at you expectantly.
>It looks like she's waiting for you to speak.
>You may as well oblige her.
>A small grin grows across your face as you answer.
"Yes. I can take care of her."
>You look up at Fluttershy.
"Although I would appreciate a little help."
>At this, her smile grows that much wider.
>Between you and her, this breezie is going to get the best care possible.
>Of that you are sure.
>As this thought crosses your mind, Fluttershy begins to speak.
>"That's wonderful! I think you'll make a great caretaker."
"Thanks, Fluttershy."
>"I do have some advice on taking care of breezies that I think you should hear, though."
>Advice?
>Well, you might as well get as much information on breezie care as possible.
>You will be taking care of one for a while, after all.
>There can't be that much to learn, right?
"Sure, Fluttershy. I'd love to hear it."

>An hour and several dozen pages of notes later, Fluttershy was finally done with her lecture on the finer points of breezie care.
>Your wrist burns like a motherfucker from all that writing.
>But at least you now know everything there is to know about taking care of your newfound friend.
>As it would turn out, breezies are very delicate creatures.
>Their small stature meant they could be crushed or carried away by almost anything, not to mention that they were highly susceptible to all kinds of contagions.
>Hell, just a small cold could probably kill them if left unchecked.
>It was a wonder that their species had survived this long.
>Then again, they did usually live in an area of the world that could only be accessed via a magic doorway.
>That probably protected them from most threats.
>Unfortunately, your breezie no longer had that luxury.
>She was exposed, she was vulnerable, and she was almost entirely dependant on you.
>And, slowly but surely, winter was coming.
>This was going to be a daunting task.
>But you had made a promise.
>And this time, you knew you wouldn't let her down.
>After the breezie lecture had finished, you had decided to take a shower.
>You needed some time to process everything, and you figured that Fluttershy and the breezie might want some time to get to know each other.
>That animal-obsessed yellow pegasus would be helping with her care, after all.
>Some bonding time for those two would do you all some good.

>When you return, Fluttershy and the breezie are still sitting on your bed, deep in conversation.
>Or at least Fluttershy is.
>The breezie appears to be writing her responses on a sheet of paper.
>With a tiny piece of one of your pencils, no less.
>Wait, since when could she write?
>And is that writing in Equestrian?!
>You made a mental note to ask about that at some point.
"Hey, you two. Talk about anything interesting?"
>The duo on the bed finally take notice of you in the doorway.
>"Oh! Hi, Anon. Goldenbreeze was just telling me about her life back home, actually."
>Oh boy, that wasn't going to make you feel guilty.
>Though you couldn't say you weren't interested in her life.
>It would be nice to know more about the little gal.
>Wait a second, what did Fluttershy just say?
"Hold on, did you just say Goldenbreeze?"
>"I'm sorry Anon, I almost forgot to tell you. That's the name of our little friend here: Goldenbreeze."
>Oh dear.
>Judging by her reaction, Goldenbreeze really didn't like being called little.
>The fury of a million microscopic suns burned behind her eyes, as she unleashed a death glare unrivaled by anything in the known universe.
>It was lucky that Fluttershy was looking away from her at the time.
>Defusing this situation before it explodes would probably be a good idea.
>And you know exactly how to do that.
>Your gaze turns to Goldenbreeze, as you say just what you think of her newfound moniker.
"Well, I'm glad to know that our guest has a name that's just as pretty as she is."
>The fury quickly disappears from her eyes as she turns to face you, replaced first by confusion, and then by embarrassment.
>Her face quickly turns from cyan to red as a full-face blush creeps all the way up to her hairline.
>Your smile at Goldenbreeze's reaction only makes her blush harder.
>That cuteness is almost too much to handle.
>But, considering the lack of numbness in your left arm, you have to assume that you'll live.

>"It is a pretty name, isn't it?"
>These words from Fluttershy are enough to tear your gaze away from Goldenbreeze for a moment.
>Although you look back at the breezie almost immediately, it's too late to recapture the moment.
>But on the plus side, the lack of glare on her face seems to indicate that she's forgotten Fluttershy.
>That was quick.
>Complimenting a girl will get you and your friends out of anything, apparently.
>It suddenly occurs to you that you never asked how Goldenbreeze came to learn the Equestrian written language.
>Fluttershy had mentioned during her lecture that the breezies had no written language of their own.
>And its not like they could just bring books back to their homeland or anything.
>So the fact that this particular breezie was fluent was a bit of a shock, to say the least.
"Fluttershy, I have to ask: How does Goldenbreeze know how to read and write in Equestrian?"
>At these words, Goldenbreeze lights up.
>She urgently taps her paper in an attempt to get your attention.
>An endearing smile breaks out on Fluttershy's face at this, as she attempts to stifle a giggle.
>"I think she wants you to read her version of the story, Anon."
>Why thank you, captain obvious.
>You pick up the paper that Goldenbreeze has been writing on, and take a seat on the bed.
>The author of the text before you is taking a ride on her magnum opus, excitedly pointing at the passages that she wants you to read.
>Her writing is quite a bit smaller than what you're used to reading, but you can still make it out.
>Barely.
>You should look into getting a magnifying glass.
>It appears that there was also an extreme amount of abbreviation used.
>Being that small, writing full sentences that are big enough to be read by creatures like you would be very tiring, so you could see why she'd do something like that.
>It did make reading a little hard, though.
>Actually, everything about Goldenbreeze's writing made it hard to read.
>She even had terrible handwriting.
>Hoofwriting.
>Whatever.
>Ugh, this could take a while.

>From what you had made out so far, this breezie had quite a story to tell about her life.
>Due to complications from her birth, Goldenbreeze had been born sickly and underdeveloped.
>Her parents had elected to raise her anyway, regardless of any physical defects.
>Soon enough, Goldenbreeze had overcome most of these problems, although her doctors said she would never be able to speak.
>But she was the resourceful type, and found that she could communicate in other ways.
>Said communication often consisted of just excitedly gesturing at things, or sometimes miming an action, but it usually got the point across.
>Unfortunately for Goldenbreeze, a vocabulary consisting entirely of flailing your limbs around isn't a very good way to talk to other breezies about anything other than what you want at that specific moment.
>Consequently, most attempts at friendship did not go very well.
>Goldenbreeze did gain a few friends through her childhood, but they were few and far between, and quickly drifted away.
>The reason for this was that breezie society was a very social one, full of constant chatter and lively parties.
>If you couldn't interact properly, then you were essentially an outcast.
>Her parents were kind and understanding folk, but they just couldn't help their little daughter with her communication problem.
>But then, when she was around four years old, Goldenbreeze stumbled across something life changing.
>An Equestrian encyclopedia.
>Nobody could explain how it got there, but it didn't matter.
>What mattered were its contents.
>For the first time in her life, Goldenbreeze was exposed to actual written language.
>And although she couldn't understand what it was at the time, that encyclopedia would come to define her entire future.

>Every day for the next three years, Goldenbreeze went back to study that encyclopedia, if only for a few minutes.
>And every time she did, she gleaned a little more information about both Equestrian language, and the outside world.
>Everyone had always told her that the world outside the breezie valley was dangerous and forbidding.
>While this book did nothing to dispute that, it also shed light on the more wondrous things the world had to offer.
>The concept of written language - of actually being able to communicate with others without using a voice! - was especially intriguing to her.
>And, over time, Goldenbreeze mastered quite a bit of it.
>It was unfortunate for her, then, that the breezies didn't really care.
>Most breezies, when it comes to anything other than parties, seem to be slightly apathetic.
>Oh sure, they'll work if they have to.
>Survival is always high on the agenda, no matter how lazy you are.
>But if something seems like a lot of unneccesary work to a breezie, then they won't pay it a huge amount of mind.
>Unless it's entertaining, that is.
>Given the huge amount of work learning a language requires, and the extreme lack of entertainment it provides, most were none too keen to attempt it.
>Her parents did get some basic phrases down after a while, but it wasn't really anything beyond what Goldenbreeze could get across with her limb-flailing.
>The lack of enthusiasm for her newfound knowledge was saddening, to say the least.
>A whole new way of recording information, and they didn't care.
>A way for her to actually talk with them, and they just. Didn't. Care.
>...
>But the outside world might.
>After all, they were the ones who invented this writing.
>Goldenbreeze couldn't believe that she hadn't thought of it before.
>The Equestrians would talk with her.
>Of that she was sure.

>Goldenbreeze decided to tell her parents about her decision first.
>It took a while to get the point across, but when she did, they did not take it well.
>The phrase 'flipping the fuck out' would be an accurate description of the following events.
>An hour-long panicked lecture on the dangers of the outside world later, and Goldenbreeze remained unswayed.
>No matter how much her parents begged her to, she couldn't stay.
>There was just too much out there to stay here all her life.
>Even if it meant giving up the only truly loving relationship she had.
>And so Goldenbreeze had joined up with the pollen collection crews, bound for Equestria.
>From what she had heard, it was a powerfully magical land, fraught with many dangers.
>Hopefully, with a little luck, and the help of the ponies on the other side of the portal, they would make it back with enough pollen to last though the winter.
>And so her adventure across the land began.
>But pollen collecting was hard, and the hours were long.
>As the weeks went by, Goldenbreeze's dreams of communicating with the locals slowly diminished.
>On the few days when she had enough time to go out and actually try to give messages to ponies, they often didn't even notice her presence.
>And those that did notice her did not appreciate it.
>Apparently, breezies were considered pests by some ponies, and necessary evils by many others.
>Goldenbreeze had been chased out of at least two marketplaces, three taverns, and one cafe by the time she gave up trying to write to anyone.
>Even when she reached out to ponies, they just didn't care.
>If nobody would read her writing, then what exactly was she out here for?
>And it's not like the breezie convoy were doing much sightseeing during their pollen collection duties.
>She knew then that there was no point to ever having left home.
>Her dreams were never going to come true.
>She was a fool for ever having them in the first place.
>Goldenbreeze decided to just do her job and return home.
>Her parents were the only ponies in her life who truly cared about her, anyway.
>She might as well make her parents happy, seeing as she couldn't do it for herself.

>The pollen collecting group was on the last leg of their return journey when the leaf swept through their group.
>Goldenbreeze had thought that would be the end.
>That she would die without her parents ever seeing her again, her broken body scattered across a strange land.
>She honestly wasn't sure that she cared.
>But then you caught her.
>Her fears that you might do even worse to her than an impact with the ground were quickly assauged.
>And then you talked to her!
>You were the first thing in Equestria to speak, and not just immediately tell her to get lost.
>The fact that she had no paper to talk back with burned her up inside.
>But that could wait until later.
>In that moment, the fact that she had met you was enough.

>You look up from the paper, mouth slightly ajar.
>Fluttershy had left the room while you were engrossed in reading, the space she so recently occupied now full of thin air.
>It was apparent from her story that Goldenbreeze was an incredibly driven breezie.
>And the things she had acheived with that drive were insane.
>Living past a childhood that by all rights she should have died in?
>Learning to write despite a near-total lack of support?
>Venturing out into a world that she had only read about, where nearly everything could kill her with the slightest bit of effort?
>Goldenbreeze was a grade-A badass.
>For a breezie, anyway.
>You turn to Goldenbreeze, amazement evident in your features.
"Goldenbreeze, did you really learn how to read and write Equestrian all by yourself?"
>Goldenbreeze nods enthusiastically.
"And you came all the way out here to Equestria, just so you could talk to someone by using it?"
>Her nodding increases twofold.
"Wow. You're either totally insane, or a total badass. Either way: You're awesome."
>The full-face blush from earlier returns with a vengeance.
>Goldenbreeze looks so cute with her face like that.
>Her eyes actually seemed to sparkle with joy from the compliment.
>You didn't really want to look away.
>But life had other plans.
>"So, are you two ready to go shopping?"
>You look up to see Fluttershy's head poking its way around the door frame.
>Wait, what?
"Shopping?"
>"Yes, Anon. If you're going to be taking care of a breezie, you'll need supplies. And it's best if we get them as soon as possible."
>You could see the logic in this.
>Even if you didn't really want to.
>With a sigh, you reply in the affirmative.
"Alright then. Let's go shopping."

>You were now in central Ponyville, following Fluttershy to her first destination.
>Goldenbreeze sat in your left pocket, her golden mane once again flowing in the wind.
>She really liked doing that.
>It was soon to be winter, so your first destination was Carousel Boutique.
>Rarity wasn't exactly a friend of yours, but Fluttershy assured you she could get a discount for you.
>That, and Rarity was basically the only seamstress in town.
>If there were any others, you hadn't heard of them.
>And that was the kind of thing a seemingly clothing-obsessed oddity like you would know about.
>Ah, there it is now.
>The most fashionable cake in Ponyville.
>Carousel Boutique.
>Ever since you had first laid eyes on it, you had harboured the desire to lick it.
>But every time you tried, something would get in the way.
>Alas, cruel fate, why hast thou forsake me?
>Entering the store, you see a plethora of dresses, set out on manikins dotted around the show floor.
>The sounds of a sewing machine echo from upstairs, and the smell of lavender hung in the air.
>Fluttershy made her way up the stairs, presumably looking for Rarity.
>While you may have been unphased by the boutique's sights and smells, your passenger was not.
>Goldenbreeze flitted about the room in amazement at the wondrous creations before her.
>You had the feeling that she'd never seen dresses like these before.
>She might not ever have seen dresses at all.
>Her excited path took her under, over, around and even through every dress in the room.
>Eventually, Goldenbreeze alighted on one, and gestured at you to come over.
>Following her instruction, you soon find yourself standing next to a little white sundress.
>It was a full-body dress, stretching from the wearers shoulders to roughly halfway down their tail.
>A pattern in the shape of dandelions was sewn into the hem at the shoulders and the bottom of the garment.
>It was a very pretty item of clothing.
>And, judging by the pleading look on her face, Goldenbreeze wanted it.

"You want me to buy this dress for you, don't you?"
>A vigorous nod from the fashion-inclined breezie before you confirms your suspicions.
>Taking a quick look at the price tag, you can see that this dress is well out of your budget.
>Then again, if you were to get a version of it for Goldenbreeze, it would be smaller, and therefore cheaper...
"I'll see what I can do, Goldenbreeze."
>Her expression turns to one of joy, and she flies up onto your shoulder.
>Tiny arms cling to the side of your neck as Goldenbreeze attempts to give you a hug.
>The gesture is so adorable that you don't even have the heart to tell her that you probably won't be able to afford it.
>Oh well.
>Eating is for pussies, anyway.

>Soon after this, you spot Rarity making her way down the stairs, with Fluttershy in tow.
>"Ah, hello Anonymous! Sorry for making you wait so long, but Fluttershy and I were just catching up on some things."
"That's alright, Rarity."
>You hadn't even noticed, but ten minutes had passed since you first entered the store.
>Time flies when you're watching cute, you suppose.
>"So, I presume that the breezie on your shoulder is the new project I have found myself tasked with?"
"Yes. This girl here is Goldenbreeze."
>As you finish saying this, Goldenbreeze waves at Rarity.
>"Well, aren't you the cutest little thing?"
>You can feel Goldenbreeze tense on your shoulder.
>Turning your head toward a glaring Goldenbreeze, you whisper into her ear.
"Hey. She doesn't mean to insult you, okay?"
>Goldenbreeze looks up at you, fury evident in her features, but the instant she meets your gaze, it melts away.
>"Come over here so I can take your measurements, dear."
>It takes a few seconds, but Goldenbreeze eventually departs your shoulder, and moves to the work table of a waiting Rarity.
>"Anonymous, Fluttershy, feel free to take a seat. This could take a while."

>Roughly an hour and a half later, you are awoken from your daze by the lilting cry of a greatly pleased Rarity.
>"Fiiiiiniiished!"
>Fucking finally.
>You were almost ready to start reading the fashion magazines on the table next you, just to alleiviate the boredom.
>That would've been a sad chapter in your life.
>You get up, and walk over to the table where Goldenbreeze had originally gone to get her measurements.
>At first you had thought that would be the only thing Rarity would do, but when she brought out the fabric samples, that's when you knew you were in for the long haul.
>Damn her perfectionism.
"So, have you got everything you need?"
>Rarity looks up at you with a look of self-satisfaction.
>"Yes, I believe I do."
>You look over at Goldenbreeze in order to tell her it's time to leave, but her begging puppy dog look stops you before you can say anything.
>Oh, right. The dress.
"By the way Rarity, before we leave: Is it possible for you to make a breezie-sized version of one of your dresses?"
>The white unicorn's face takes on a pensive look.
>"Hmm... I may be able to. Which one do you have in mind?"
>You point to the dress Goldenbreeze had selected earlier.
"The one with the flowers, over there."
>"Ah, the Dandelion Dream. The hem patterning seems like it could be tricky, but... I suppose I could try."
>Well, glad to know she was willing to do it.
>But was your wallet willing to pay for it?
>"And I'll even give you a forty percent discount, seeing as I would be using a small fraction of the fabric I would normally. So your total bill comes to about... one hundred eighty bits."
>You take a peek in your bag of bits.
>As it would turn out, the wallet was willing.
>Barely.
>And you were glad it was, because the moment you finished handing over the bits, a beaming Goldenbreeze wraps her forehooves around you once again.
>Although she opted for your forearm this time, rather than your neck.
>A chorus of awws sounds from the two other mares in the room, as a adoring smile plays itself out across your features.
>Goldenbreeze is such a freaking cutie.

>Several minutes later, you were in the market.
>Fluttershy had left for home, but not before giving you a list of foods to buy for your breezie companion.
>Goldenbreeze sat in your pocket, taking in the sights and sounds of the various stalls that made up the marketplace.
>The list was mostly just smaller fruits and some softer nuts, along with a couple of vegetables.
>It was a simple enough task to get them, at least for the moment.
>Unfortunately for you, it was entering winter, and many of the listed foods had already gone out of season.
>Feeding Goldenbreeze through the winter was going to be difficult.
>And expensive.
>There goes the entertainment budget.
>The nuts on the list ought to keep for a while though, provided you kept them in dry conditions.
>You could also freeze the vegetables, and maybe some berries along with them.
>Alright, you've got a plan.
>Freeze and store as many of the items on the list as you can for the winter.
>You were planning on doing that with much of your own food, anyway.
>Goldenbreeze doesn't eat much, so you shouldn't need too large an amount of anything.
>But you'd buy plenty regardless, just to be on the safe side.
>Oh, and you musn't forget.
>Buy some damn firewood.
>You had a little left over from last year, but it wasn't going to last you through the winter.
>Especially if it turned out to be a rough one.
>A quick scan of the marketplace reveals your first destination, and you begin what is sure to be a long afternoon of shopping.

>It's around two hours after the start of your shopping trip.
>You're weighed down by what has to be at least a fifth of your bodyweight in purchases.
>But at least you're almost home.
>Goldenbreeze is alternating between staring at the bags swinging like pendulums from your struggling arms, and to the bulging muscles of your arms up above.
>She seemed to be amazed by your ability to lift that kind of weight by yourself.
>To a breezie like her, it must have seemed like the stuff of legends.
>Of course, to you, it was just tuesday.
>Most stallions, and a fair amount of mares around here could lift more than you, actually.
>After all, they had four stout legs to work with, and many of them were part-time farm hands.
>While you had gained a decent amount of muscle from your freelancing, it still wasn't quite enough to outmatch them.
>Story of your life.
>Goldenbreeze either didn't know this, or didn't care.
>She was spellbound.
>And, to tell the truth, you really didn't mind the attention.
>It's not like anyone else was giving it to you.
>Goldenbreeze was not exactly bad-looking, either.
>You'd be willing to say that she's the cutest creature in Ponyville.
>...maybe even the prettiest.
>...
>Brain, stop that.
>She's like a fiftieth of your size, for fucks sake.
>Probably more.
>It's like wanting to fuck a butterfly.
>The idea is a little disturbing, to say the least.
>How would you even fit it in?
>Ugh.
>Brain, you are a special kind of stupid.

>With that mental awkwardness aside, you find youself staring at the front door to your house.
>Placing the shopping in your right hand on the ground, you take your keys out of your pocket, and open the door.
>You walk across the threshold, first picking up what you had left on the ground, and deposit your bounty on the kitchen counter, going back only to close and properly lock the door.
>Goldenbreeze slips out of your pocket, and perches on top of your couch, watching intently as you begin to work.
>Her eyes don't leave you even once as you carry the groceries to their respective storages.
>You get the feeling that she's just watching where all the food is going, so she can try and steal it later.
>That innocent smile is not to be trusted.
>She might not have a big appetite, but that doesn't mean that her pigging out won't take a chunk out of your grocery budget.
>It also doesn't mean that it's in any way healthy for her.
>You don't know how much she eats at home, but you can guarantee it isn't as much as you've got here.
>You'd rather Goldenbreeze didn't end up as a fleshy water balloon.
>Then again, she doesn't seem to be concentrating much on the food itself...
>Better to be safe than sorry, though.
>Glancing at your watch, you notice the time is fast approaching nightfall.
>About time for dinner, you think.
>Your growling stomach agrees.
>Another, tinier growl from across the room also sounds its approval.
>The face on Goldenbreeze as you look over at her is one of sheepish embarrassment.
"You hungry?"
>She shyly nods in response.
>Between Rarity, and your earlier shopping spree, neither you nor Goldenbreeze had had time to eat lunch that day.
>So getting some food into you and her both would be a great idea.
"Well, then. Let's get cooking."

>Seeing as Goldenbreeze wasn't capable of lifting anything heavier than herself, and wasn't exactly skilled with a blade either, you elected not to make her help you with cooking dinner.
>Goldenbreeze, however, was having none of this.
>Regardless of your attempts to stop her, she had first familiarised herself with the recipe in the book you were using, then began to hand you any ingredients she could carry.
>One by one, she had carried over as many almonds as she could before tiring.
>They numbered about fifteen, which was a fairly high number for something of her size.
>And, as it turned out, that was just the amount you needed.
>So, kudos to her.
>Goldenbreeze was now perched on top of the recipe book, watching you work on frying up some fish for yourself.
>The green beans were almost done, and the almonds were already nicely toasted.
>Mixing them together in another bowl, you serve them onto a nearby plate, the fish following shortly after.
>A small portion of the beans and almonds dish goes onto a separate saucer.
>You carry both the plate and the saucer over to the couch on a tray.
>As you sit down, Goldenbreeze flies over your shoulder, and lands next to her little saucer.
>She looks up at you, as if to ask for permission to eat.
>Seriously?
>You're a breezie, not a dog, woman.
"What are you waiting for? Dig in."
>At your words she does just that, taking an entire slice of almond into her mouth in one bite.
>Not exactly the cleanest eater, you note.
>Then again, neither are you.
>You join her in devouring your meal, and soon enough, the both of you are finished.
>Goldenbreeze lets out a satisfied little burp.
>It's like an adorable mosquito fart.
>She jumps off of the tray and onto the couch, while you put the dishes in the sink.

>Moving to the fridge, you take some rapsberries, and pour out a small bowl of them for dessert.
>Back on the couch, Goldenbreeze takes one look at the bowl of raspberries, and leaps onto the one nearest to her, wrapping her legs around it in a bear hug.
>Her face is streaming with juices, as she feasts on the delicious treat.
>You, just to be contrary, put the raspberries into your mouth before chewing.
>It's a slightly more effective solution to the problem of getting food into your stomach, you feel.
>Goldenbreeze makes her way through only one and a half raspberries before giving up, and flopping back down onto the couch.
>Her body lies on its back, legs splayed out in all directions, her stomach slightly distended.
>She is the picture of a food coma.
>So much for watching how much she eats.
>You should probably do something about all the juice on her face, too.
>First, though, you have to do the dishes.
>That shouldn't take much more than ten minutes or so.
>Looking down at Goldenbreeze, she seemed to be half asleep.
>Leaving her alone for a few minutes shouldn't be a problem.

>Roughly twenty minutes later, you return to the couch, only to find that Goldenbreeze is fast asleep.
>Her face is still covered in juice, however, and you suspect that her teeth could do with a good brushing.
>Luckily, a tiny little toothbrush had been gifted to you earlier that day, from Fluttershy.
>That was a lucky break, considering the only other toothbrush in the house would most likely remove Goldenbreeze's face.
>And you liked her face where it was.
>Cute of that calibre is hard to come by, and it would be such a pointless waste.
>Much like it would be a waste of this cute moment if you woke Goldenbreeze up.
>She looks so peaceful, with her little chest rising and falling wih each breath, and her antennae sporadically twitching.
>The saliva trail making its way out of her mouth isn't quite as cute as the rest of her, though.
>And regardless of your feelings, you had to wake her up.
>You'd be damned if she was going to get a cavity on your watch.
>Gently, you poke her in the shoulder.
"Hey, Goldenbreeze. Wake up."
>She rouses slightly, but only enough to turn over, and immediately go back to sleep.
>You poke her again, slightly harder this time.
"Seriously, wake up."
>The glare that follows takes you aback slightly.
>She does not want to get up.
"Goldenbreeze, you have to get cleaned up, alright?"
>This does little to sway her, as she curls up once again.
"Okay, if that's how you're going to be."
>You pick her up, cupping your hands around her so she can't escape.
>Goldenbreeze pounds furiously at the fleshy cave surrounding her, but it's no use.
>She soon gives up, and flops down on your palm in defeat.
>Or maybe she's going to sleep again.
>You can't tell, but either way, she's going to get cleaned up.

>It seems as though the pissy little missy in your hand has begrudglingly accepted your proposal of a bath.
>She now sits on the edge of the sink, watching as you gauge the temperature of the water.
>You might not like how she's acting, but you don't want to scald her, or anything.
>Hm.
>It seems alright...
>But the real test is whether or notit's comfortable to her.
"Well, there's your bath. Is the temperature alright?"
>Goldenbreeze tentatively dips a hoof in, the rest of her body following shortly thereafter.
"I'll take that as a yes."
>For someone who was so against being cleaned up before, Goldenbreeze sure was getting into it now.
>You had given her enough water to submerge herself, and she was taking full advantage of it, swimming about the sink with the underwater agility of a penguin.
>Her lithe body sped about, performing various underwater gymnastic feats.
>Twirls, corkscrews, a vertical loop.
>She even breaches the water for a full second at one point.
>Show off.
>Goldenbreeze eventually ceases her acrobatic performance, and instead decides to float on her back.
>A finale follows in the form of a small jet of water fountaining out of her mouth.
>With that done, Goldenbreeze's body goes limp, and she begins slowly rotating in circles from the current that her swimming had created.
>Her eyes close in relaxation, and you keep watching as she slowly turns.

>Goldenbreeze's legs were splayed out in all directions, her body obviously in the throes of total and utter relaxation.
>Her chest rises and falls in the water, slowly and peacefully.
>The belly that she had acquired at dinner hadn't gone down at all, and the angle at which Goldenbreeze lay only made it balloon even further.
>Floating hair blooms around her head and rear legs, surrounding her with a halo of orange.
>The water causes her fur to cling to her skin, outlining her body far more sharply then you were used to.
>It seemed to outline two things in particular very sharply indeed.
>A pair of slight bumps situated themselves on her lower belly.
>Were those her... teats?
>You really shouldn't be looking at those.
>But no matter how polite you wish to be, you can't tear your eyes away.
>They're so tiny.
>They're so adorable.
>You almost hate to admit it, but... they're kind of sexy.
>But as Goldenbreeze's floating body turns, an even more captivating sight comes into view.
>A thin, tiny slit of pink peeks out from her fur, just above her submerged tail.
>That's... wow.
>You can now fully admit it.
>This is most definitely sexy.
>However, your sense of honor quickly overrides your baser instincts.
>You really shouldn't be taking advantage of the fact that she's not paying attention like this.
>She hasn't noticed you yet, so there shouldn't be any prob-
>Oh shit.
>She's spotted you.
>And that burning glare tells you all you need to know about what she thinks of your actions.
>Goldenbreeze's cheeks burn like a neon sign as her legs snap together with an audible slap.
>She moves to an upright position in the water, and angrily points to the door.
"Goldenbreeze, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-"
>Your apology is cut short by several light slaps, as Goldenbreeze hits the water in an effort to interrupt you.
>She once again points at the door, a little more insitently this time.
>The message is clear.
>She wants you gone.
>And you must oblige.

>You're sitting on your bed now, once again wallowing in self-loathing.
>You freaking pervert.
>How could you do that?
>You were meant to take care of Goldenbreeze, not ogle her when she's taking a bath.
>Can you at least try to keep your libido in check around a member of the opposite sex for once?
>It can't be that hard, seeing as everyone else in Ponyville manages to do it.
>Then again, they did all have a lifetime of training in the art of resisting that particular temptation...
>But that's no excuse.
>You should never have been looking in the first place.
>You are disgusting.
>And Goldenbreeze will never forgive you.
>Just as you think this, the mare herself flitters into the room.
>Goldenbreeze pointedly avoids your gaze, flying herself over a pile of paper on your bedside table.
>The moment she lands, she picks up her pencil shard, and begins to write.
>You might as well try apologising again.
>It couldn't hurt.
"Goldenbreeze, I want to say I'm sorry about what I did before. I shouldn't have been looking at you like that, especially not without your permission. It was disgusting and pig-ish of me to ever have done that."
>Her writing continues unabated, your words having no visible effect.
"I promise that I will never ever ever do that again."
>Still, the writing continues, with no sign of letting up.
"...Goldenbreeze, I know this is a long shot, but... can you ever forgive me?"
>She seems to twitch slightly at that, but you can't quite tell with the movement of her writing.
>A few seconds pass in silence, as Goldenbreeze finishes her message.
>Her left foreleg beckons you over, and you follow her direction.
>The writing is once again small and scrawly, but you can still read it.
>[Don't want talk about it now. Please quiet. I tired. We talk in morning.]
"Oh. Okay. Are you sure?"
>She nods curtly in response.

>This is disheartening.
>You're fairly sure you just ruined your friendship with this breezie.
>More importantly, you betrayed her trust.
>You utter piece of shit.
>Goldenbreeze seemed to just be going immediately to bed, wrapping herself in a handkerchief, and curling up on a small pillow you had left for her on the bedstand.
>You might as well join her.
>There's not much else to do, anyway.

>It was now the next morning.
>You could tell by the fact that the sun was desperately trying to force its way past your curtains.
>Despite the fact that you had been awake for the last fifteen minutes, you still hadn't found the will to force yourself up.
>Not only were you a pervert, you were also a sad sack.
>Or maybe you were just scared of facing Goldenbreeze again.
>Either way, you couldn't stay in bed forever.
>Fuck it.
>With a tired sigh, you throw the covers off, and sit up on the edge of the bed.
>Goldenbreeze is still sleeping on your night stand, a blatant reminder of what had occured the night before.
>You figure that the best thing to do right now is to make breakfast.
>Talking with her will accomplish little, and it's the very least you can do after what you did.
>Making your way to the kitchen, you decide to make something simple.
>A small fruit salad, with a little muesli sprinkled in.
>She ought to like the fruit, at least.
>You take the meal back to your bedroom, to find that Goldenbreeze has awoken from her slumber.
>She looks at you as you enter, and even smiles when she sees the food.
>That's a good sign, right?
>You sure hope so.
>Resting the bowl on the night stand, you begin to eat.
>Goldenbreeze makes off with a single grape, while you begin to take large spoonfulls of the meal.
>Soon enough, both of you are finished with breakfast.
>Now comes the awkward part.

"Goldenbreeze... you said we would talk in the morning. Now that we've eaten, can we?"
>Goldenbreeze looks up at you, then quickly turns toward her paper.
>She begins writing, leaving you to ponder what's to come.
>Is she going to ask to go live with Fluttershy?
>Will she proclaim her wholehearted hatred for you?
>Could she possibly be concocting some strange, deviantly sexual punishment?
>...
>No brain, that's silly.
>Stop being a pervert.
>As you break away out of these thoughts, you notice that Goldenbreeze has finished writing.
>Reading it, you're left rather surprised, and rather red-faced.
>You're also left wondering whether or not you might be latently psychic.
>[I don't like what you did. But I'll forgive you, if you do one thing for me. You've seen mine, now I want to see yours. Everything of yours. Then we're even.]
>You're not quite sure how to take this.
>On the one hand, she's willing to forgive you.
>On the other hand, she wants to see your dick.
>Not that you weren't proud of your body and all, but you didn't exactly want to perform a strip-tease in front of the girl.
>But, if you wanted forgiveness, this was probably the best way to go about it.
>...
>Screw it.
>Time to get naked.
"Okay. I'll do it."
>Goldenbreeze lights up at your response.
>It occurs to you then that you still haven't bathed that morning.
>A fact made very evident by your foul scent.
"Uh.. but do you mind if I take a shower first? I kind of stink right now, and I look better clean, I promise you."
>She takes a moment to consider this, but after a couple of seconds simply nods at you, and lays back down on her makeshift bed.

>A few minutes later, you were ready.
>You stood outside the door to your room, contemplating what was to come.
>A towel was still wrapped around your waist.
>You can't strip if you don't have anything to strip out of, right?
>Ha. Hahaha.
>Eep.
>Truth be told, you were pretty damn nervous.
>You knew you weren't exactly bad looking.
>The jobs you took quite often required a certain amount of heavy lifting, and your body had responded accordingly.
>But the last females in Equestria to see you naked weren't exactly considering your musculature, and they certainly weren't appreciative of what they saw.
>Who's to say Goldenbreeze would be?
>But alas, you owe it to her.
>If you don't go through with this, she might never forgive you.
>With that thought in mind, you finally open the door.
>Goldenbreeze stands up as you enter, eyeing your half-naked body.
>Her eyes are open wide, and a small smile is forming on her lips.
>It's apparent that she likes what she sees.
>You wonder if she'll like what comes next.
>There's only one way to find out.
"Hey, Goldenbreeze. Are you ready?"
>These words break her out of her momentary stupor.
>She gazes up at you in confusion, before what you just said finally sinks in.
>When it does, she begins nodding furiously.
>Okay dick, it's time to shine.
>In one deft movement, you undo the knot in the towel, and it quickly falls to the floor.
>Looking over at Goldenbreeze, it's clear your reveal has had a rather significant effect.
>Her entire body is tensed, her wings and antennae standing on end, and her mouth hangs open in shock.
>You thought her eyes were wide before, but they were practically jumping out of her skull now.
>And... hold on.
>What was that on the pillow?
>It... it's a wet patch.
>Wow, she was really loving this.
>Judging by the tingling sensation from down below, she wasn't the only one.
>It seems like little anon has decided to come out of his shell.

>Goldenbreeze was transfixed by your fast-growing erection.
>Her eyes focused solely on your dick, and a small trail of saliva began making its way across her chin.
>She is literally drooling at the sight of you.
>More than a few women had seen your penis in your life, but this was not a reaction you ever remember recieving.
>Now that you had recieved it, you had to say that it felt pretty damn good.
>You stay like this for a minute or so, letting Goldenbreeze examine your dick from afar.
>She doesn't move for the entire time, and in fact, doesn't seem to blink.
>It's kind of creepy.
>But alas, all good things must come to an end.
>You pick your towel up off of the floor, and wrap it around your waist.
>Your erection was still going strong, coaxed on by Goldenbreeze's performance.
>Goldenbreeze was clearly disappointed by the fact that the show was over, but hopefully the obvious boner under the towel would make up for that somewhat.
>You make your way over to the night stand, kneeling down so that you head is at her level.
>She struggles to maintain eye contact with you, and her gaze darts down towards your crotch every few seconds.
>A small, self-satisfied forms on your lips as you ask the next question.
"So... did you enjoy the performance?"
>Her cheeks light up in a fireworks display of embarrassment as she weakly nods.
>Even after that perviness, she's still as cute as ever.
>Or maybe during that perviness, considering her still-roaming eyes.
>As much as you love the attention, some clothes wouldn't be a bad idea.
>Can't be wandering around naked all day, after all.
>That's just unseemly.
"I'm going to go put some clothes on, alright Goldenbreeze? I'll be back in a few minutes."
>Goldenbreeze only barely acknowledges you, instead focusing on your retreating rear end, as you turn and leave the room.

>As you change into a new set of clothes, you ponder what just happened in that bedroom.
>Goldenbreeze was kind of a perv.
>You'd never have thought it, what with that cute persona she seems to have cultivated.
>Or maybe it was just you who brought it out.
>After all, there had been many stallions passing you by on your trips through town yesterday, and yet she hadn't paid them any mind at all.
>They weren't exactly wearing pants, so it's not like they were hiding any of their fun parts from her.
>Huh.
>Goldenbreeze had eyes purely for you, it seemed.
>And what hungry eyes they were.
>You remember how easy it was for her to begin dripping like a waterfall at the mere sight of you.
>How long had it been since she'd got any, you think.
>Had she even masturbated recently?
>For her to be pent up like that, it had to have been a while.
>Goldenbreeze had said that she was with a pollen-collecting party before she met you.
>She mustn't have had any private time while she was with them.
>Hmm...
>Was it possible that she was just using you to blow off steam?
>...No.
>No, she wouldn't do that.
>You hope.
>After all, all the evidence pointed toward her being interested solely in you.
>That was a good sign.
>Wait, what do you mean a good sign?
>What is this you were feeling?
>Were you... attracted to her?

>Well that's a stupid question.
>The answer is obviously yes.
>Judging by your reaction to her intense interest earlier, saying otherwise would be a boldfaced lie.
>Goldenbreeze did have what you considered a good-looking body, despite its small stature.
>And nearly everthing she did was just so incredibly, adorably cute.
>That story she told of her life back with the breezies, though...
>It painted her as a genius, so driven by her desire to interact normally that she learned a whole new language just to accomplish the task.
>And when that didn't work at home, she went out into a world of infinite death, just so she could try and make it work out there.
>This was a girl who would stop at nothing to get what she wanted, no matter the danger.
>That fierceness and determination was something you admired in Goldenbreeze.
>You also found that trait pretty damn hot, now that you think about it.
>Even if it did make her attitude a little sour at times.
>Her burning hatred for the word 'little' was something you should probably ask about at some point.
>But besides the poor anger management, there was something about Goldenbreeze that just seemed so... perfect.
>The word rings in your head for a few moments.
>Perfect.
>Goldenbreeze was by no means perfect, you knew that.
>But you couldn't help but feel that the statement was true.
>She was perfect.
>...
>Wait, are your cheeks burning?
>...do you have a crush on that girl out there?
>...yes.
>Yes, you do.
>She was cute, she was awesome, she had a will comparable to that of a raging bull...
>All around, Goldenbreeze was one of the most attractive women you had ever met.
>But... did she feel that same way?
>It was obvious that she was physically attracted to you, but was it anything beyond that?
>You could ask her.
>But if it didn't work out, then it would make this friendship more than a little sour.
>Not to mention the awkwardness that would come with living with a former girlfriend.
>You should stay quiet about this for now, until you're sure.
>It wouldn't be fair to Goldenbreeze to ruin one of the only friendships she's ever had by turning it into a failed relationship.

>With these thoughts still bouncing around in your head, you finish dressing in your usual tshirt and jeans combo, and make your way back to the bedroom.
>Goldenbreeze looks up from her writing paper as you enter.
>She seems more than a little disappointed at your choice of clothing (mostly that you were wearing any, if you had to guess), but her smile was still as bright as ever.
>Her left forelimb once again beckons you to come forth.
>As you kneel down in order to inspect the paper, Goldenbreeze points to a specific paragraph of text.
>It appears to be an acceptance of your apology.
>And... her own apology?
>[We're even, Anon. You're forgiven. I thank you for doing what I asked. I know it couldn't have been easy, with you having a phobia of nudity and all.]
>Phobia of nudity?
>Wha... oh.
>She must mean the fact that you wear clothes all the time.
>That wasn't exactly normal out here in horseland, so you can see why she might think it's a fear of being seen naked or something.
>[And I want to apologise. What I did was motivated by anger. I just wanted revenge for you looking at my privates without my permission. It was a childish thing to ask you to do. I'm sorry.]
>The next few sentences afterward were scribbled over to the point of illegibility.
>A fidgeting Goldenbreeze sat atop them, a large portion of the destroyed paragraph hidden under her body.
>Whatever it said, it didn't matter.
>What mattered was making sure this cutie didn't beat herself up over this.
"Goldenbreeze, I'm the one who should be sorry. I let my libido get the better of me. What you did was childish, yes, but it was nothing to be sorry about."
>At this, Goldenbreeze ceases her fidgeting, and turns her gaze upwards towards you.
>With a smirk, you add:
"Besides, you already saw how little I minded it."
>Her face turns red in embarrassment, and she quickly begins writing again.

>You wait until Goldenbreeze finishes what she has to say before beginning to read.
>[I let my libido get the better of me, too. And I think you already know how little I minded it as well.]
>You let out a chuckle at this.
"Yeah. I do."
>Goldenbreeze seems to go into a series of small convulsions after you finish talking.
>It worries you for a moment, but then you notice the gleeful look on her face.
>She's laughing.
>That's the first time you've seen her doing that.
>It is incredibly goofy-looking, especially without sound.
>That's probably why you haven't seen her doing it before.
>Even if she had been laughing at things, you wouldn't have noticed.
>Well, it's good to see it now.
>Because it is yet another incredibly cute thing to add to the list.
>With her laughter subsided, Goldenbreeze begins scribbling again.
>It's a rather simple message.
>[So what else are we going to do today?]
"That's a good question, Goldenbreeze."
>And so it was.
>But, seeing as she was a newcomer to the town of Ponyville, the obvious idea quickly sprang into your mind.
"Here's an idea: How about I show you around town?"
>She hadn't actually had a chance to visit most of the town at this point, so it seemed like a good idea.
>And seeing Goldenbreeze smiling and nodding at your proposal, it definitely was.

>A few minutes later, you and Goldenbreeze were on the road, her once again taking a ride in your pocket.
>She really loved it in there.
>Your first destination was going to be the Treebrary.
>You don't care what that purple ocd-ball said it was called - to you, it was the Treebrary.
>The building was a still-living tree with a library carved inside it, what else were you going to call it?
>Anyway, you were taking Goldenbreeze there for two reasons.
>One, so that she could see a fantastical work of magic (again: living tree despite its insides being scraped out).
>And two, so that Goldenbreeze could find out what kind of books she liked.
>You wouldn't be able to be at home with her all the time, and it seemed like a good idea for her to have something to do while you were gone.
>Goldenbreeze had never been exposed to written fiction before.
>Hopefully she likes it.
>You know you have a hard time liking it.
>A lot of pony fiction seems to be fairly childish.
>Plus, ponies seemingly had no concept of science fiction.
>In a world run almost exclusively on magic, you could see why.
>That doesn't make it any less disappointing, though.
>Especially seeing as practically every book available has a literal magical deus ex machina there to save the day.
>Fucking hack writers.

>In your silent rage, you fail to notice the library ahead of you.
>Your face, however, does not.
>The shock of the impact brings you out of your daydream and back into reality.
>Painful, face-smashing reality.
>Your head is forced downward by the collision, and when your eyes reopen, they immediately spy a most adorable of sights.
>Goldenbreeze, wracked with laughter from your stupidity.
"Yeah, laugh it up. Vulture."
>Her laughter dies down after a few seconds, but the mirth remains in her features.
>Damn it.
>You can't stay angry at something that cute.
>Even if she was just laughing at your misfortune.
>Whatever, you're at the Treebrary now.
>It's time to find Goldenbreeze some worthy entertainment.
>Other than schadenfreude, that is.

>As you enter the Treebrary, you pause for a moment.
>It was always worth taking the time to survey the inside before moving beyond the entrance.
>Not only was it glorious to behold (I'minsideatreeI'minsideatreeI'minsideatree), but it was also prudent to look out for any magic spells that may be brewing.
>That was a lesson you had learned the hard way.
>You didn't want to have any more moustaches magicked onto your dick.
>No matter how magnificent they might be.
>Fortunately for your nether regions, no magical experiments were in sight on this visit.
>There was, however, a pudgy little purple dragon staring at you from atop a ladder across the room.
>That would be Spike, library assistant extraordinaire/overworked intern.
>You had always thought that his workload was a bit excessive for someone his age.
>Then again, left to his own devices, he would probably become a walking tub of ice-cream-fueled lard.
>A bit of responsibility wasn't the worst idea ever.
>You just wish Twilight understood how to pace it.
>But enough with the judgemental thoughts, Spike is talking.
>"Hey, Anon. What brings you here?"
>You're not sure why he would ask you that.
>It's a library, what else would you be here for other than reading?
"Hey there, Spike. I'm looking for a few books for Goldenbreeze here."
>You gesture toward your left pocket in order to point her out.
>Spike takes a moment to spot her, squinting his eyes in concentration.
>"Uh... oh, hi there!"
>The stout lizard jumps down from his perch, and quickly makes his way across the library to you and Goldenbreeze.

>"So, Goldenbreeze was it?"
>Goldenbreeze nods her head in affirmation.
>A big, cheesy grin crosses Spike's face as he launches into his faux-salesman spiel.
>"Welcome to Golden Oaks! The biggest, best, and most comprehensive library in Ponyville."
>That's because it's the only library in Ponyville, you dork.
>"So, are you looking for anything in particular?"
>A shake of her antennae is the only response he gets.
>"Oh, well... can I recommend anything?"
>Goldenbreeze cocks her head inquisitively.
>Spike, however, is still waiting for her to speak.
>Seeing as no words are coming, you decide to intervene.
"I'm not sure. She hasn't really read many Equestrian books. I was planning to just let her browse for a while."
>The little dragon stares up at you with a slightly disappointed look on his face.
>"Okay, if that's what you want to do. Don't be afraid to ask if you need anything. I'll just be shelving books over there."
"Alright, thanks Spike."
>With that said, Spike makes his way back over to his ladder, and once again begins the sisyphean task of ordering the library shelves.
>Before you can ask Goldenbreeze what she'd like to browse through first, the lithe breezie has already begun making her way to the nearest book shelf.
>You quickly follow her, watching as she moves about the books on the shelves.
>Presented with such a smorgasbord of literature, Goldenbreeze is completely lost as to which one she should choose.
>So she just goes for the first one she sees.
>Her feeble limbs are unable to even budge the comparatively large book however, and soon enough she's asking for your help.
>The frustrated pout plastered on her face as she motions for you to move the novel for her is downright adorable.
>The angry glare you recieve as you remove it with a single finger and thumb is slightly less so.
>Note to Anon: Don't mock Goldenbreeze like that again.
>An adorable death glare is still a death glare, all the same.

>As you pull the book from the shelf, you are presented with a most chilling of titles.
>A Whinny in the West.
>The blurb on the back of the book described it as a western-themed romance.
>Romances, in your opinion, are the spawn of satan himself.
>They're nothing but tasteless drivel, unrealistic stories of people falling in love in the stupidest manner possible, written in the most ridicuously flowery language imaginable.
>What kind of sadomasochistic madman would even read such a thing?
>Other than bored housewives, of course.
>They haven't anything else to live for, so they might as well have the adventures of Mister Darcy and company to entertain them.
>But, despite any misgivings you may have about the contents of this surprisingly verbose kindling, Goldenbreeze wasn't going to stop reading it just because you said so.
>From what you knew of her, she wasn't exactly the type to give up just like that.
>It was best to just get it over with.
>With any luck, she'll hate this romance garbage just as much as you, and give up before you're forced to lug it back home.
>A light thud sounds as you place the book on the table in the centre of the room.
>Goldenbreeze flits over to the paperback, and with a gargantuan heave, opens it to its first page.
>You decide to find something to read as you wait for her to grow tired of that awfulness.
>Let's see what we have here...
>That's What I Said, by Ringing Echo.
>On the one hand, it's supposedly a comedy. On the other hand, that godawful author name.
>There and Back Again, by Bilgewater Bags.
>Ugh, no autobiographies please. They are always, without fail, nothing but self-aggrandization.
>The Color of Magic, by Torn Ratchet.
>Damn it Spike, stop mixing in the preschool books with the adult fiction.
>Okay seriously, is there anything good to read here?
>With a sigh, you decide to settle for That's What I Said.
>As it turns out, it's an autobiography chronicling his stand-up career across Equestria.
>Greeeat.

>After about five minutes of surprisingly enjoyable reading, Goldenbreeze appears at the top of your page.
>She gestures toward the book she picked out earlier.
>It looks like she's made up her mind on whether or not to get the novel.
>You walk over to the table in the centre of the room, Goldenbreeze in tow.
>A Whinny in the West lay on the table in the same position as before, though now it was open to the sixth page.
>It seems that was as far as Goldenbreeze needed to read before making her decision.
>Well, at least she was quick about it.
>Goldenbreeze begins gesturing again, first at the book, then at the door.
>Oh, fuck this noise.
>She actually wants this drivel?
>Ugh.
>You're going to have to teach this girl about taste at some point.
>Then again, she hasn't had much experience with fiction...
>The poor, naive girl has no idea what she's getting into.
>Hopefully you can talk her out of it.
>For her own good, of course.
"Goldenbreeze, you want that book?"
>She nods her head emphatically in response.
"Are you sure? Because there are plenty of other ones to choose from in here."
>Goldenbreeze adopts a curious gaze.
>Huh. You might actually get through to her.
"There's all kinds of books: Fantasy books, adventure books, thrillers, detective stories - the list goes on. With so many to choose from, wouldn't you want to weigh your options first?"
>A pensive expression crosses the breezie's face.
"You never know; you might even find something better to read."
>Goldenbreeze's eyes slowly narrow in suspicion.
>Okay, that sentence was a mistake.
>Before you can attempt to backtrack however, the suspicion in her eyes turns into a look of realisation, then into defiance.
>Once again, the hoof of the little breezie points first to the book, and then to the door.
>Well, that attempt at diplomacy backfired horribly.
>She wasn't going to let go of this easily.
>And unless you wanted to spend the forseeable future watching her complain at you, then you would have to give in to her demands.
>You let out a small sigh, and let Goldenbreeze hear the good news.
"Okay, fine. You can have the book. Just don't blame me when it turns out to be terrible."

>You check the book out, and after a quick farewell from Spike, you and Goldenbreeze are once again on the road.
>A Whinny in the West was held firmly in your right hand, encased in a brown paper bag.
>You planned to get it home as quickly as possible, before anyone managed to get a look at it.
>The last thing you needed was these ponies knowing that you had this insult to literature in your possession.
>Gossip runs rampant in a community this small, and before long everyone in Ponyville would be mocking you for it.
>You really didn't need that shit.
>Small penis jokes were enough of an annoyance, thank you very much.
>Luckily for you, nobody seemed particularly interested in talking as you walked by, and you reach your home without incident.
>That was surprisingly easy.
>You deposit Goldenbreeze's book on the nearest table, and make your way out of the house, soon arriving back in the town proper.
>Showing Goldenbreeze around Ponyville was a simple and rather enjoyable task.
>She delighted in the sights, sounds, and smells of pony society, literally throwing herself about in your pocket in order to take it all in.
>She had done much the same in the marketplace yesterday, you recall.
>It was heartwarming to see her so enraptured with it all.
>Her life back home would have been so different, and her only knowledge of the outside world had come from what you have to presume is a long-outdated encyclopedia.
>It was a dream come true for her to be out here, amongst it all, with someone she could call a friend.
>You were just glad that you got to help her achieve that dream.
>That you also got to enjoy her adorable reaction first hand was simply a bonus.

>You passed by many of the major sights of Ponyville on your tour.
>And some of the minor ones, too.
>The town hall, the dam, the marketplace, Sugarcube Corner...
>Goldenbreeze loved them all, and she especially enjoyed your tour guide-style descriptions of their history and function.
>Or what you knew of that stuff, anyway.
>You still had a few stops left on your itinerary for the day, but before you moved on to them, you decided that it was time for some lunch.
>A nearby eatery, apparently named the Hay Bale Cafe, was a decent enough place to grab a bite to eat.
>Or, in this case, a packed lunch.
>After purchasing a pair of egg salad sandwiches to go, and a bottle of apple juice to wash it down with, you make your way to the nearby lake.
>You had been to the lake a few times since moving to Ponyville, and in your honest opinion, it was a stunningly gorgeous place.
>The water was clean and cool, sparkling like a pool of mercury.
>Perfect for swimming in.
>It was a little chilly to be swimming at this time of year, though.
>Not that certain ponies don't try it anyway.
>Dotted around the edge of the lake were several trees, and it was at the base of one of these that you sat yourself.
>You spread a napkin on your lap, its precious cargo spilling out onto your crossed legs.
>Goldenbreeze perches on your knee, and you tear off a piece of sandwich for her to devour.
>And devour she does, downing the egg salad with gusto.
>Such an impatient eater.
>Then again, you weren't acting much better, given your famished state.
>Both you and Goldenbreeze are quickly done with your meal, washing it down with a few gulps of apple juice.
>After that, it's time to rest and relax in the shade of your tree, and wait until your lunch is fully digested.
>You lean back against the trunk, close your eyes, and relax.

>Only a few moments later, you feel something small and fluffy land on the bridge of your nose.
>You open your eyes, to see Goldenbreeze staring back.
>Before you can ask what she's doing, she points her teeny hoof at the lake.
>That gets the message across fairly quickly.
"You want to swimming, huh?"
>Goldenbreeze shakes her head.
>She then points her hoof at you, then at her, and then at the lake.
"...You want me to go swimming with you?"
>At this, Goldenbreeze breaks out in a grin, nodding animatedly.
"Well, that's going to be a problem. You see, the lake gets fairly cold this time of year, and it's not very comfortable to be swimming in..."
>Goldenbreeze's smile fades a little at this.
"...and besides, I don't have a bathing suit to wear."
>The melancholic expression on Goldenbreeze shifted to one of shock for a split-second, before entering into a whole new realm of pitiable sadness.
>Oh dear god, those eyes.
>They were emotional torture in its purest form.
>There was no chance of you standing against the might of those quivering golden pools.
>With a sigh of defeat, you acquiesce to her demands.
"Okay, Goldenbreeze. I'll swim with you."
>Her expression immediately springs back to one of joy, and she actually claps her hooves before she hops off of your face.
>She was such a manipulative little thing.
>Implying that you didn't kind of like it.

>Alright, inventory check.
>No swimsuit, but you did have underwear.
>Which, of course, were made of fabric, and would take forever to dry.
>If you wore it in the lake, then you would be walking around in soaking wet underwear for the rest of the day.
>But if you didn't, then you would be swimming in a cold public lake, completely naked.
>Think of the freezing temperatures in that lake!
>Think of the embarrassment if you were caught!
>Think of the shrinkage!
>It didn't look like the best option, to be sure.
>...But you had already promised Goldenbreeze.
>Besides which, no ponies usually showed up here during this time of year, and the lake wasn't exactly near any of the main thoroughfares of Ponville.
>And, despite how embarrassed you might end up being, at least you would be near Goldenbreeze if anything went wrong.
>That reason alone outweighed any risks inherent in this choice.
>With the decision to swim au naturel made, you begin to disrobe.
>As you strip, you fold your clothes and place them in a little pile next to the tree.
>This way, you would know where to find them later.
>It's only when you're down to your underwear that you notice Goldenbreeze gawking at you.
>You had almost forgotten she was there for a moment, but it was clear that she hadn't forgotten you.
>Her greedy eyes were fixated on your crotch, just waiting for your penis to once again reveal itself to her.
>Aaand she was drooling.
>This girl has a problem.
>A sexy problem.
>Called Anon.
>...
>Brain, never say these things out loud.

>You turn your back to Goldenbreeze, before pulling off your boxers, and gently placing them on top of your other clothes.
>Covering your crotch from prying eyes (especially the ones of a certain highly-disappointed breezie), you quickly run to the lake, and dive under the surface.
>It's less bracing than you had imagined it to be, but it's still slightly colder than you would consider comfortable.
>You surface and float in place for a few moments, before a tiny splash heralds the arrival of Goldenbreeze.
>She leaps out of the water, and quickly begins her waterborne gymnastics routine, circling around you while performing multiple pirouettes, and dives.
>Goldenbreeze really likes showing off her aquatic skills, apparently.
>After circling around you once, she dives under the lake.
>You can't make her out under the surface, but hopefully she's staying close by.
>You hope she doesn't get lost down there.
>If she winds up in a separate part of the lake, it could take hours to find her.
>And if she drowns, you might never even find the body.
>Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.
>You are about to call for her, when a tickling sensation on your thigh alerts you to her presence.
>Thank goodness she hasn't run off by accident.
>She must be using you to orient herself.
>The sensation of her touch slowly begins moving toward your crotch.
>Wait, what is she doing?
>Is Goldenbreeze going for your dick?
>Holy shit, she is.
>Her hooves finally make contact, gently feeling their way around the circumference of your shaft.
>Goldenbreeze's clumsy attempts at molestation inevitably cause the predictable reaction, and your penis soon begins its rise to stardom.
>But alas, just as the fun seems to begin, it ends.
>As soon as your erection becomes prominent enough to notice, Goldenbreeze detaches herself from your growing member, and swims away as fast as her little legs can manage.

>She surfaces a short distance in front of your stomach, gasping for air.
>The sheepish grin that appears on her face as she stares up at you tells you that a lack of air wasn't the only reason she swam back up here.
>That is a face that screams 'caught in the act'.
>You can't say you didn't expect this, but that doesn't make it any less insulting that she would do that without your permission.
>Then again, it's not like you hadn't enjoyed it.
>And you had been parading your naked body around in front of her a whole lot today.
>Poor girl was probably more than a little bit flustered at this point.
>But all of that still didn't change the fact that she shouldn't have ever been doing that in the first place.
>You glare down at Goldenbreeze, shaking your head in disappointment.
>Her gaze lowers, and she retreats into the water in shame.
>It pains you to see her like this, but you know it's neccesary.
>She needs to feel guilty about doing something like this.
>You'll think of a better punishment later, but for now, guilt would be her penance.
>What would happen now, however, was you getting out of this lake and going home.
>You would continue the tour another day.
>But before you can turn around, a unfortunately familiar voice sounds from behind you.

>"Nice day for a swim, eh Anon?"
>Oh shit, it's Blossomforth.
>Of course it was.
>The one time in the history of you living in Ponyville that you decide to skinny dip, and she shows up.
"Blossomforth, what are you doing here?!"
>You shout as you quickly spin around to face her, instinctively covering your crotch as you do so.
>You're not sure why you bother, seeing as the parts you're hiding are underwater.
>In fact, this futile action quickly turns out to be a mistake.
>A cruel smirk appears on Blossomforth's face, as a prelude to the cutting words to follow.
>"Oh, I just happened to be flying on by, when who should I see but you, swimming in the town lake. And, judging by the fact that you just covered your crotch, you're not wearing anything down there."
>Welp, you're boned.
>Now that Blossomforth knew that you were naked, she wasn't going to go easy on you.
>She was always that much crueller when she knew she had the upper hand.
>And if this wasn't the upper hand, you didn't know what was.
>"I wonder, Anon - how cold is it in there? Is your little wee-wee even visible anymore? Not that it was ever easy to spot in the first place."
>Blossomforth lets out a cackle at her own insult.
>Your face flushes red with embarrassment, as you desperately search for a retort.
>"Oh, Anon. You don't have to be embarrassed about it. Nopony minds nudity around here. If anything, they'll just be happy to have something so funny to laugh at. I know I find it hilarious."
>Yeah, you sure do, ya bitch.
"Don't you have anything better to do than sit here and insult me?"
>"Not really. It's my day off, so I can do whatever I want. What I want to do is laugh. You know what makes me laugh?"
>You already knew the answer to that question.
>She doesn't even say it, instead just matter-of-factly nodding her smug face toward your crotch.
>As her eyes make their way back up, an evil glint enters them, and her self-satisfied smile becomes one of malevolence.
>This can't be good.

>Blossomforth begins walking toward you, slowly and menacingly.
>"But do you know what's even funnier than thinking about that sewing needle you're packing?"
>You nervously shake your head, as you back away from her advancing form.
>"Seeing it first hand!"
>With these words, Blossomforth sprang into action.
>She leaps into the air toward you, shoving her forehooves under your arms.
>They force your arms outwards, leaving you unable to cover yourself.
"Hey!"
>You grab at her front legs to try and pull Blossomforth off of you, but they remain unmoved.
>This pegasus was stronger than she looked.
>A fact further proven by her then starting to lift you out of the water.
"What the hell, Blossomforth?! Get off of me!"
>Your increasingly frantic struggling does nothing to dissuade her, and your yelled threats fall on deaf ears.
>Soon enough, your waist makes it above the water line, and your now-flaccid dick sees sunlight for the first time in several minutes.
>The sight of it provokes a laughing fit in Blossomforth.
>Her grip loosens just enough for you to wriggle out of, and you fall back into the lake with a loud splash.
>It takes her a moment to calm down enough to speak.
>"Ahahaha! Shit, Anon. I thought it was small in the photographs, but... oh, wow. That is just... bahaha!"
>Her form is once again wracked by laughter, and your face burns ever redder.

>Fucking bitch.
>She always mocked you about your penis size, but this time she had gone too far.
>Forcing you to show yourself to her, with you kicking and screaming all the while, and then laughing in your face about it?
>The thought of it makes your blood boil.
>You want to punch her, to show that shitstain that you don't fucking do this to people.
>But you know that isn't an option.
>Blossomforth is faster than you, and she can fly.
>Even if you could hit her, she would just run away.
>She might even tell the guard about it, too.
>Judging by your earlier encounters with them, they probably wouldn't take your side on this issue.
>They apparently considered this sort of thing 'just a little joke'.
>They always snickered after saying that.
>Besides which, practically everyone in Ponyville went around naked.
>The sighting and discussion of each others' genitals wasn't exactly uncommon.
>Demanding legal action over that kind of thing probably wasn't going to work.
>Charges of assault wouldn't stick either, seeing as she really only picked you up.
>There was little recourse you could take, other than hurling insults at her.
>And that would look pretty pathetic, if you were to be honest.
>Even more pathetic than you were now, that is.
>Ugh, fuck this bitch for making you feel so shitty.
>The urge to knock her teeth out still burns strong within you, regardless of logic or reason.
>Too angry to actually speak, you instead channel that rage into the most intimidating glare you can muster.
>It's... ineffective.
>Blossomforth is still too busy laughing to actually notice you looking at her.
>A cunning defense strategy.
>But there's one thing she didn't count on.
>And that was invisible ponies.

>Wait, what?
>That is the thought that runs through your mind when Blossomforth suddenly cries out in pain and covers her left eye, reeling from the strike of an unseen assailant.
>The fuck is happening?
>Looking more closely, you can just barely make out a small cyan and orange dot in front of her face.
>Holy shit, it's Goldenbreeze.
>And she just punched Blossomforth right in the damn face.
>Or in the eyeball, to be specific.
>She must have seen what Blossomforth was doing to you, and finally had enough.
>That breezie was a ridiculously huge badass.
>But badassery can only do so much.
>Within moments, Blossomforth has recovered from the blow, and sets her rageful eyes on Goldenbreeze.
>At which point she promptly begins laughing again.
>"Woah, who is this Anon? Your new marefriend? I know I joked about your pecker being small, but is she seriously the only girl you're capable of actually satisfying?"
>This quip was a mistake.
>The instant the words leave her mouth, Goldenbreeze slams both of her front hooves into Blossomforth's right eye, evening out the damage.
>Blossomforth cries out again, but this time, she doesn't reel back.
>"You little bitch!"
>With a swat of her hoof, Blossomforth strikes your breezie companion.
>Goldenbreeze is woefully unprepared for the attack, and the blow sends her flying.
>She tumbles through the air for a moment, before landing in the grass at the shore of the lake, bouncing several times on impact.
>Her body lays unmoving on the ground, and you fear the worst.
"Goldenbreeze!"
>You yell out to her, and move toward Goldenbreeze's still form as fast as you can, the water surrounding you trying its damnedest to slow you down.

>But before you can even get out of the lake, Blossomforth is upon her.
>The white-coated pegasus leans over the prone form of the breezie, bringing her face as close to her as she can.
>Blossomforth's forehoof raises itself over Goldenbreeze's still form, and slowly begins descending.
>Your eyes widen in horror, a deep dread permeating the core of your very being.
>Is Blossomforth doing what you think she's doing?
>She wouldn't dare!
>Would she?

>But there's no time for what-ifs - only for action.
>Your pace quickens, and you explode out of the lake, sprinting toward Blossomforth.
>The pegasus is taken by complete surprise as you perform a full body tackle, shoving her away from Goldenbreeze as hard as you can.
"Get away from her!"
>As you both hit the ground, you pin Blossomforth beneath you, preventing her from moving back over to Goldenbreeze.
>It'll be a cold day in hell before you ever let that psychotic bitch touch your friend again.
>"Anon, get off of me!"
"Why, so you can hurt her even more!?"
>"No, you idiot! So I can help her!"
>What is this pony on about?
"Help with what? Putting her out of her misery!?"
>Blossomforth seems rather offended at this insinuation.
>"I'm not trying to kill her, Anon!"
>Yeah, right.
"Then what exactly were you trying to do? Because it looked a whole lot like you were about to crush her into the dirt."
>Blossomforth's face turns to one of horrified disgust.
>"Why would I ever want to do that!? I was just trying to see if she was okay!"
>She seems sincere, but you still remain sceptical.
>The bitch did just knock Goldenbreeze unconscious, after all.
>"I didn't mean to hit her like that! I just reacted out of instinct. I would never hurt anypony on purpose, I swear!"
>It's a little late to be saying that, psycho.
>Though those tears in her eyes did a lot to sell her act.
>The sniffling was a nice touch, too.
>...
>Shit.
>She wasn't lying, was she.
>"Please, you have to believe me!"
>Damn it.
>She wasn't.

>With a sigh, you move yourself from on top of Blossomforth.
"Yeah. I believe you."
>She slowly sits back up, the tears from earlier making their way down her cheeks.
>You, on the other hand, go to check on Goldenbreeze.
>Her body lays on its side, wings spread wide, her gangly legs sprawled beneath her unconscious form.
>She looks so frail.
>Goldenbreeze is still breathing, her chest rising and falling in a slow and steady rhythm.
>From what you can tell, nothing seems to be broken.
>But it's not like it was easy to test that assumption.
>Before you can go any further, Blossomforth pipes up from behind you.
>"Is... is she okay?"
>No, she's not fucking okay, you stupid bitch.
>You answer in a cold, impersonal tone.
"She's alive."
>You're pissed, but that girl is falling apart, and you might need her soon.
>The distance to the hospital wasn't short, and she could traverse it far faster than you could.
>"Oh, thank Celestia..."
>With Blossomforth calmed, at least for the moment, you see if you can wake Goldenbreeze up.
"Goldenbreeze, can you hear me?"
>No reaction.
>Not good.
>You gently prod her with your finger.
>Her eyelids flutter open at your touch, her eyes themselves taking a moment to focus.
>When they finally do, they quickly find their way to you.
>Goldenbreeze tries to stand upright, but her quivering legs give out before long, landing her back on the grass.
"Take it easy, Goldenbreeze. You were just knocked unconscious."
>Her yellow eyes glare up at you from the ground, conveying the message of 'Yeah, I noticed' in the most aggressively sarcastic way possible.

>The little breezie soon decides to settle for a sitting position, rather than a standing one.
>She was much steadier like that, it seemed.
>The fact that Goldenbreeze couldn't even stand upright without difficulty was a bad sign.
>That blow must have seriously messed her up.
>As if the fact that it knocked her out wasn't enough proof of that.
>You needed to get Goldenbreeze checked out right away.
>And that meant going to the hospital, which was at least twenty minutes walk away from where you were.
>Blossomforth seemed like the best option for fast travel, but you weren't sure that was the smart thing to do.
>Not only did Blossomforth cause this whole mess in the first place, but Goldenbreeze seemed pretty pissed at her for it.
>The breezie had begun glaring at Blossomforth the moment that she noticed that the cream pegasus was still there.
>This despite the fact that Blossomforth was actually attempting to apologise.
>Goldenbreeze wasn't in the forgiving mood though, it seemed.
>You wouldn't be either, if you were in the same position.
>But that didn't change your need for a hospital.
>Looking down at Goldenbreeze, she still seemed to be somewhat discombobulated.
>Her gaze was slowly trailing off to the left, and she kept having to correct herself.
>Yet another bad sign.
>She needed treatment as soon as possible.
>Well, here goes nothing.
"Goldenbreeze, you need to see a doctor. If Blossomforth takes you there herself, then you'll get treatment much faster. Are you okay with that?"
>A vigorous shaking of the head from Goldenbreeze signals her answer.
>Looks like you'd be carrying her, then.
>Changing back into your clothes first wouldn't be a bad idea, though.
>If you left them here, who knows what would happen to them.
>Besides which, Goldenbreeze would be more comfortable in your pocket than in your hands.
>Not to mention warmer.

>Just under half an hour later, and once again clad in threads most average, you arrive at Ponyville General.
>It wasn't a big facility, but it was a good one, as far as you could tell.
>You just hope that they can care for a breezie.
>You enter the front doors, closely followed by a rather morose pegasus.
>Blossomforth had tagged along with you from the lake, supposedly to make sure that Goldenbreeze was okay.
>Or at least that's what you got from her ten minutes of non-stop apologising.
>Followed by the same amount of time spent walking in silence, after you had lost your cool and told her to shut it.
>In restrospect, it was probably a little cruel to snap at Blossomforth like that, especially when she was just trying to apologise.
>But there's only so many apologies one man can take, damn it.
>You're sorry. We get it. Now shut up.
>After that, Blossomforth had kept her head down and her mouth closed.
>That state didn't change, even as you entered the hospital waiting room.
>The waiting room was mostly devoid of patients, aside from one old purple mare, and a stallion whose groin was entirely encased in bandages.
>You really don't want to know what happened there.
>Working the front desk is a portly pink-coated mare, with a two-tone purple and white mane.
>Atop her head sits a small, white, circular hat, emblazoned with a red cross.
>From a distance she appears to be filling out paperwork, but when you get close you notice that she's just doodling in the margins.
>You hope this level of not giving a fuck isn't a common thing around here.
>The chubby mare is so absorbed in her creative masterpiece that it takes a less-than-polite cough from you to snap her out of it.
>Her head snaps up, and she stares at you like a deer caught in the headlights, before quickly crossing her forelegs over her so-called work, and nervously welcoming you to the hospital.
>"Uh- hi! Welcome to Ponyville General, sir. I'm Nurse Sweetheart. What can I help with you - I mean, you with today?"
>Smooth.

"Hi, I'm Anonymous. I need some help for a friend of mine."
>You reach into your pocket, and carefully extract Goldenbreeze.
>The stains around her mouth tell you she's vomited.
>Looking down, you can see the rest of it trailing down the side of your trousers.
>How did you miss her doing that?
>You could clean it up later, getting Goldenbreeze to a doctor took precedence over your grooming.
>You gently deposit the breezie on the counter of the front desk, right in front of miss doodlesworth.
>Goldenbreeze doesn't attempt to get up, instead waving weakly in the general direction the slacking worker.
>The purple mare behind the desk smiles warmly, and waves back.
"This girl here is called Goldenbreeze. She was hit earlier, hard enough to knock her out. I think she has a concussion. Can we see a doctor?"
>Nurse Sweetheart becomes concerned.
>"Oh dear. A concussion, you say?"
"Yes, I think so."
>The rotund skiver stands up from her chair, and moves from behind the desk.
>"Is she able to move by herself?"
>Goldenbreeze attempts to rise to this challenge, and actually manages to stand upright.
>Her attempt at flight doesn't go nearly as well, and she's quickly deposited right back onto her spindly rear.
>"I guess that's a no. Do you mind carrying her? You'll be able to keep her steadier than I can."
"Yeah, I can do that."
>You place your palm next to the counter, as an invitation for Goldenbreeze to climb aboard.
>She shakily makes her way across the wooden surface, practically collapsing into your hand when she reaches it.
>Whatever this girl lacks in strength, she more than makes up for in indomitable will.
>Before you can walk off however, Blossomforth speaks.
>"Can I come with you?"
>Well, that's an interesting question.
>But, before you have time to debate it, Sweetheart interrupts.
>"I'm afraid that nopony other than the patient and one family member or caregiver are allowed in the examination room with the doctor at one time. It's standard procedure."

>Blossomforth mumbles a reply, her head pointed toward the ground.
>"Oh. I guess I'll just wait here then."
>With that said, she trots off toward the waiting area, and dejectedly plops herself down in the nearest chair, setting her sights on the tile patterned floor.
>She's a pathetic sight, being this guilty.
>But you know she deserves every second of it.
>Nobody punches your friend and gets away with it.
>Even if they apologise multiple times, weep openly in public, offer to take their helpless victim to the hospital, and then stay with them until they know they're okay.
>...
>Wow, Anon.
>You're a vindictive piece of shit, you know that?
>Even if Blossomforth did something incredibly stupid, that no reason to keep hating her forever.
>Not unless Goldenbreeze is permanently disabled because of it.
>Then you're going to tear that bitch limb from limb.
>Until you know that for sure though, you should try to just forgive and forget.
>Blossomforth might be a bit of a shit, but you know how far these kinds of feelings can push you.
>You didn't want that on your hands.
>You'll talk to her after the check-up, and see what you can do for her.
>In all probability, good news will be all she needs.
>If there is any good news.
>Nurse Sweetheart once again pipes up behind you, bringing you out of your reverie.
>"Mr Anonymous, if you would please follow me to the examination room."
"Uh, yeah. Of course."
>The mare turns about, quickly making her way toward a nearby corridor to your left.

>You make sure to check on Goldenbreeze before following her.
>The dazed breezie is nestled in the palm of your right hand, snuggling against your flesh as hard as she can manage.
>She tries to appear still, but near-imperceptible movements from her legs and wings betray her.
>She's shivering.
>It's not a problem with the temperature, that much is certain.
>Goldenbreeze might put on a brave face, but it's obvious that this ordeal is scaring the shit out of her.
>You can't leave her like that.
>Not ever.
"Hey, Goldenbreeze."
>At the sound of your voice, her head swivels upward to face you.
"It's going to be alright. We're going to see a doctor, and they're going to fix you up. You'll be better in no time, I promise."
>A nervous smile crosses her face at your words, as her shivering dies down slightly.
>Her eyes seem a little more sure than the rest of her features, as they stare into yours with a look of hope, and of trust.
>Trust.
>You remember what happened the last time this girl trusted you.
>That didn't turn out well for her.
>You hope that you aren't making promises you can't keep.
>You've made enough of those for one lifetime.
>Using your left pinky finger, you attempt to gently scratch her behind the ear.
>Surprisingly enough, it works, and Goldenbreeze visibly relaxes as she leans into the comforting appendage.
>The action comforts you somewhat, as well.
>It's good to know that, even if you can't guarantee her recovery, you can at least ease her worrying.
>Looking up, you notice Sweetheart staring from the hallway entrance, an adoring smile plastered on her face.
>It doesn't take long for her to notice you staring back, and she once again beckons you to follow her.
>This time you follow, petting a thoroughly satisfied Goldenbreeze all the while.

>Roughly fifteen minutes later, you and Goldenbreeze are sitting in one of the hospital's many examination rooms.
>Considering how long it's taking for the doctor to get here, they really should just call it a secondary waiting room.
>The room is fairly utilitarian, aside from the standard charts and medical propaganda on the walls.
>It's got a wash basin near the entrance, a metal bench on the adjacent wall for the patient to sit on, and a pair of floor- and wall-mounted cabinets filled with run-of-the-mill medical supplies on the wall opposite the door.
>You were perched on a stool placed next to the bench, with Goldenbreeze still seated in your palm.
>Try as you might, she had refused to be seated upon the examination table.
>You couldn't blame her for it, really.
>Choosing to sit on the cold, hard steel of the bench, instead of the warm, soft flesh of your hand?
>Only a fool would pick such an obviously terrible option.
>And Goldenbreeze was no fool.
>Not when it came to places to rest her butt, anyway.
>At that moment, the kind yet gentle voice of a yellow-coated stallion, with a stethoscope hung about his neck, and a white shirt wore about his chest, mercifully interrupts this slow-motion train wreck of a thought process.
>"Ah, hello there! I'm sorry it took so long for me to arrive, I was just off visiting a few of our more long-term residents. Now, an extra-large birdie told me that I have an extra-special patient waiting for me in here. Is that right?"
>That unmistakably jovial tone belonged to none other than one Doctor Stable.
>A stallion with a wealth of experience, enough charisma to make Celestia look like a grumpy old hag, and a smile as warm and kind as any grandfathers'.

>You had met him only once, when an accident at work ended up hammering home some intensely painful realisations about life.
>Like how a nail through your hand really fucking hurts.
>He had pulled out the offending object, treated the wound, and then healed it as much as possible with his magic in very short order.
>Not only had he treated you effectively in record time, but he had managed to keep you distracted with inane conversation the whole time.
>You had barely even needed any anaesthetic, he was so engaging.
>No homo.
>...maybe a little homo.
>With this doctor on the case, you knew that Goldenbreeze was in good hands.
>Hooves.
>Magic?
>Ugh... fuck pony terminology.

"That you do, Doctor Stable. This girl here is Goldenbreeze."
>You extend the palm that cradles Goldenbreeze toward the doctor as you speak.
>Stable makes his way across the room, stopping when he gets to your outstretched hand.
>Moving his head to her level, he examines the breezies' form with a curious gaze.
>"Hm. Can't say I've ever treated anypony like you before, miss Goldenbreeze. But there's no need to fret, my dear. My name is Doctor Stable, and I'll see you back to full health in no time."
>You couldn't see Goldenbreeze's face from this angle, but you can feel her untense as Dr Stable finishes his sentence.
>A little reassurance goes a long way, it seems.
>"Now, little one, I was told you were suffering from a concussion. Tell me, how do you feel?"
>There's that tension again.
>And accompanying it is an awkward pause.
>"Erm... hello? Can you hear me?"
>That's right, Dr Stable doesn't know she's mute, does he?
>The doctor waves his hoof in her face in an effort to provoke a response.
>No he doesn't.
>You'll just assume Goldenbreeze's response is a frustrated frown.
>Well, this isn't going to get us anywhere.
>You might as well break the news to the now thoroughly concerned stallion.
"Uh... Doctor? Goldenbreeze can't speak."
>His response is short but concerned.
>"Why might that be?"
"She's a mute. She's been that way since she was born."
>Dr Stable takes a moment to consider this, much of the concern evaporating from his face as he does so.
>"Ah. I suppose that would explain some things."

>Before Stable can continue his line of questioning from before, you interrupt with a question of your own.
"By the way, do you mind not calling Goldenbreeze little? She really doesn't like it."
>"Oh, but of course. Apologies, madame. I shall refrain from using that word to describe you in the future."
>You wonder for a moment why you didn't mention this to anyone else when they made that particular faux pas.
>Until you see the pouty face staring at you from below.
>It appears the universe itself was attempting to prevent this from happening.
>And it had failed.
>Her expression reads of anger and betrayal.
>Your expression reads of curious innocence.
>What's going on in that head of hers?
>Does Goldenbreeze just not like others standing up for her?
>Or is it something else...?
>Whatever the reason, you don't get a chance to think about it, as the good doctor begins speaking once again.
>"So, Anon. Seeing as Goldenbreeze is incapable of speaking for herself, do you mind telling me what her condition is like?"
>Wait, doesn't he have magic?
"Uh... Doctor Stable, can't you just use you magic to check her out?"
>Doctor Stable looks at you apologetically.
>"I wish I could, Anon. But the brain is just too delicate an organ. I can use magic on many other wounds she might have, but any head injuries are going to have to heal on their own."

>Well, there's a new fact you didn't want to learn today.
"Oh. Okay. I didn't know that."
>"That's perfectly alright, Anon. There are a lot of misconceptions about medical magic, the idea that it can simply heal anything instantly being one of them."
>Well, at least he's not being demeaning about it.
>As if he ever would be.
>"Now, I must reiterate. Are you able to tell me what her condition is like, Anon?"
"Yeah, I could. Or you could just ask her yourself. She might not be able to speak, but she can write."
>Dr Stable seems surprised by this fact, and Goldenbreeze gains a slight smirk when she notices his curious expression.
>"Oh, she can? Well, a first-hoof source would be best. Is she able to use my pen?"
>You glance down, to see an eager-looking breezie eyeing up the pen suspended in the doctor's magic.
"Just hand her the pen, doctor. I think she can handle it."

>As it turns out, she could.
>Goldenbreeze must have gotten very adept with a pen in all her years spent writing, as even in her frazzled state she was perfectly capable of legible writing.
>Even if it took fucking forever.
>It had been thirty minutes since the pen had been handed over, and in that time only eleven questions had been answered.
>The only solace you had found in this eternity of questioning was the fact that, from the questions so far, Goldenbreeze didn't seem to be as badly injured as you had thought.
>She could remember your name (as well as her own), the ponies who controlled the sun and moon, what day it was, where she was born.
>Hell, judging by the tests she had been given, even her eyesight was back to normal by now.
>Doctor Stable had said these were very promising signs.
>But the news wasn't all good.
>The news that Goldenbreeze had blacked out, even if it was only for a few seconds, caused Stable quite a bit of concern.
>There was also the vomiting.
>The yellow stallion had said that wasn't overly worrying, but to watch out for any signs of sickness in the future.
>Last, and most ominously, was her inability to fly.
>Your breezie could walk well enough, albeit a bit tipsily, but flight was well beyond her capabilities.
>Her motor skills being affected that severely was very worrying, in the opinion of the good doctor.
>While it could just mean that Goldenbreeze was out of action for a few days, the lack of flight capability could also imply that she has brain damage.
>That's a possibility you'd rather not think about, lest you go out and bust a certain pony's head wide open.
>See how she likes being picked on by someone bigger than her.
>Luckily for both Blossomforth and Goldenbreeze, according to Dr Stable, brain damage wasn't actually that likely.
>There was a higher chance of it simply being shock from the initial injury.
>Only time would tell, of course.

>Speaking of that cream-coloured bitch, when Stable had first asked about how the injuries happened, Goldenbreeze had immediately and unceremoniously thrown her under the bus.
>The doctor was almost unwilling to believe the story when he read it.
>So much so that, not only did he ask you to corroborate the story, but he also asked Blossomforth herself.
>A bit of an unprofessional and wholly stupid move, in your opinion.
>Shockingly, the pegasus in question hadn't disagreed with the testimony at all.
>Well, apart from the part where she had supposedly 'ground Goldenbreeze's prone form into the dirt with both hooves'.
>Goldenbreeze may have embellished some points a little.
>Long story short, the doctor was waiting until the end of the examination to decide whether or not to call the guard.
>Another move that made you want to question his intelligence.
>Just because somebody isn't permanently hurt, it doesn't mean that something bad wasn't done to them.
>You can believe in the goodness that lies in the heart of all creatures all you want, doc.
>That doesn't make it true.
>Even if Blossomforth clearly regrets the action desperately, and wants nothing more than forgiveness for what she has done.
>...conscience, why do you do these things?
>You and I both know that she did something horribly wrong, and she needs to pay her dues.
>Guilt alone simply isn't enough.
>Yes, you plan on apologising to her eventually.
>But for this...
>You just can't bring yourself to honestly forgive her right now.
>And Goldenbreeze will probably never forgive her at all.
>You wonder how that might affect her.
>Probably not well.
>She'll just have to deal with that, for the time being at least.
>Hopefully she can.

>A soothing voice calls you away from your thoughts, and back into the wonderful world of medical examinations.
>"Mr Anon?"
>Collect call from Dr Stable, do you accept the charges?
"Yes?"
>"I'd just like you to know that I've finished my examination of miss Goldenbreeze."
>Yes, and?
"What's the diagnosis, doctor?"
>"Well, she has a mild concussion, and some bruising along her left side. Other than that, she's fit as a fiddle. She's free to leave with you anytime you choose."
>A relieved smile grows across your face at his words.
>That sentence is the best news you've heard all afternoon.
>A slightly woozier smile hangs on the face of the breezie sitting on the clipboard held in Dr Stable's magic.
>It's good to see her like that.
>"Actually, before you leave, you might want to take this."
>Dr Stable sets his clipboard down on the table, before opening up one of the cabinets by the door, and floating over a opaque white bottle.
>It bears the name acetaminophen, along with a list of ingredients, instructions on their proper use, and their side-effects.
>It appears to be a bottle of water-soluble painkillers.
>From what you know of painkillers, size tends to be a factor in how effective they are.
>As in, the smaller you are, the more effected you'll be.
>And the more likely you are to overdose.
"Uh... doctor Stable, is it really a good idea to be giving her these?"

>The doctor fixes you with a steady gaze.
>"Provided you follow my instructions Anon, everything will be fine. I know it might not be visible, but with the amount of pain Goldenbreeze is in, she needs something to help deal with it. That breezie is a tough girl, but she is in no way immune to pain. I wouldn't feel like I was fulfilling my oaths if I didn't try to help in some way."
>Wrapping his clipboard and pen in the blue glow of his magic, Stable brings them across the room toward him, writing the whole while.
>Goldenbreeze rides atop the paper, her head turning this way and that as she observes the room flying by.
>After a few moments of pen scratching its way across the paper, the doctor speaks once again, this time in a very serious tone.
>"These are some of the lowest-grade painkillers I can prescribe. The recommended doses I have written here should be non-harmful, provided you follow the instructions written on that piece of paper. Do you understand?"
>Of course you understand.
>If you didn't, that would mean you were a huge, Goldenbreeze-hating asshole.
>That's not really your style, in your experience.
"Yes, Dr Stable. I'll make sure she gets the recommended dose, and nothing more."
>He nods at your agreement.
>"That's good to hear, Anon. I'll be wanting to see her again next monday for a checkup. And Anonymous, don't forget to also make sure that Goldenbreeze gets plenty of rest, as well. She needs to take it easy."
>Those words coax a chuckle from you.
"That's easier said than done, doctor."
>Dr Stable follows your example with a laugh of his own.
>"I'm sure you'll find a way, Anonymous. Now go home and relax. You both look like you need it."
"We'll get on that. Thanks for your time, doctor."
>"No problem. Have a fine day."
"Goodbye to you too, doctor."
>Taking Goldenbreeze from her perch atop the clipboard, you set off out the door and into the hallway, turning back only to wave at the retreating form of Dr Stable.