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Description

Context: Two days ago, Evergreen Candytuft fell out of a tree and appears to have broken her back. Applejack and Rarity are working overtime to try and get something to trade for decent medical care, Dash visited briefly and made everything worse, Fluttershy and Cookie Thimble left with Evergreen to try and find a doctor, and Pinkie is panicking and trying to keep it together. Thistle Switch (11) is taking care of everyone, and finally manages to get Autumn Bounty (6), Cloudy Kiss, Splendid Songbird (4), Marigold (3), and Fairy Lights (2) to go to bed.

Trigger: anxiety attack

Carefully, she walks across the wooden floor and her claws clack with every step.

She takes the curtains in her teeth and sloooowly draws them shut, ears perked to listen for the subtle change in breath of a waking filly.

Autumn, Cloudy, Splendid, Marigold, and Fairy had finally fallen asleep…just when she thought she would herself.

Darkness fell across the room as she shut the stars away.

She loomed over three-year-old Marigold’s bed, gently nosing the blanket back over her shoulders, before creeping over to Splendid’s bed and returning her fallen teddybear to her hooves. She gave a final check over Fairy’s crib, glad to see the small filly sound asleep. Cloudy Kiss and Autumn slept soundly, though she jumped when Cloudy’s leg kicked suddenly as though she was running.

Thistle almost laughed at that.

Cloudy couldn’t help but run, even in her sleep.

Autumn was completely motionless, still as a rock. Just like her sister could turn everything into a race, Autumn turned anything into a competition -even sleeping.

Thistle’s jaw still ached from the kick Autumn delivered after decided that sleeping was the end of a competition she didn’t want to lose.

She crept to the door, quietly and gently, her gaze wandering to the two empty beds in the room.

Evergreen’s bed was so cleanly made one would’ve thought someone had just done so. Her teddybears were carefully lined up against her pillows, her blanket folded at the hoof of her bed. Two days ago, Thistle Switch had surprised a sleeping-in Evergreen by pretending her teddybears were walking away to go to a party, to which Evergreen leapt out of bed to join.

She probably wouldn’t do that again. When she came back, if she came back at all, leaping out of bed would certainly no longer be an option. She let her gaze linger a moment longer, whistling a soft howl as a brief plea to the stars. Let Evergreen come back soon.

She turned to the other bed, her ears drooping at the sight. Cookie’s bed, unmade and jostled, blanket and cover thrown as though she had gotten up in a hurry. She probably had.

Quietly as she could, Thistle crept over and made the bed, pulling the covers up and arranging the pillows in the way she knew Cookie liked. Cookie’s scent still hung in the air, growing fainter by the hour.

Finally, Thistle stood by the door. She whispered, “Good-night, Autumn. Cloudy. Singer. Marigold. Fairy.” She took a fond glance at each one, her voice barely audible to herself.

Silence for a second.

“Good-night, Evergreen and Cookie.”

She blew out the candle on the wall. She slipped out of the room. She did not close the door.

It didn’t seem like any of their mothers were home. She kept her ears high as she went down the ramp.

Not Ms. Shy…she had left yesterday. With Evergreen. And Cookie.

Ms. Rarity and Ms. Apple were probably still working. Trying to get something worthy to trade for Evergreen’s treatment.

Thistle stopped at the front door, having heard a sound.

Oh. Ms. Pie was still home. The top-door to the kitchen was slightly ajar, a stripe of light against the floor of the hallway. Thistle stepped towards it briefly, a half-thought out goodnight on her lips, but stopped at the scent of grapes. Her ear flicked forward to hear Ms. Pie’s muffled sobs.

Thistle turned back around, swallowing her words, and quietly left the house.

The farm was very large, and the path to the forest was very long. Luckily, Thistle was going to the hills…it was a summer night. The air was warm and the wildflowers were blooming. The night was quiet, tinged only by crickets and wind, but it was peaceful, and it was freeing from the tense atmosphere within the Elemental House.

She made her way down the path and stopped amidst the grassy path outside of Sweet Apple Acres, the place between the trodden path and the forest. There was a sound behind her.

“Fisle! Fisle! Wait!”

Splendid Songbird was behind her, running, crying. She could never pronounce the ‘th’. She was only four. She shouldn’t be outside alone.

“Singer, what are you doing?” Thistle Switch asked, “You need to be in bed.”

“Don’t go!” Singer cried. She crashed into Thistle’s legs, wrapping her hooves around her. Thistle Switch didn’t want to hurt her. She stayed very still. Singer pressed her head against Thistle’s bark, suddenly sobbing.

“I have to go.” Thistle answered. She gently pulled her leg from Singer’s grasp, leaving the little filly sitting on the dirt path, looking up at her with teary eyes. “No wolves at night, remember?”

“I’ll miss you!”

“No, you won’t. You’ll be fast asleep, and I’ll be back when it’s morning.”

Singer had never acted like this before about Thistle leaving. Her little body was like a leaf, shaking. As soon as she no longer was holding onto Thistle Switch, she curled in on herself, her little face in her hooves. She was going to get dirty. She let out a tiny wail and another sob.

Thistle Switch glanced around, her ears pricked, for Applejack. Singer seemed really upset, and Thistle didn’t want to get yelled at for scaring her, but she also didn’t want to hurt Singer while trying to comfort her. Thistle asked, “Why are you so sad? I thought you were all sleepy.”

“I-I’m gonna misssss youu!” Singer sobbed.

“I’m coming back tomorrow.” Thistle insisted. “No time for missing. Sleeping time.”

“No you won’t!”

Singer’s uneven crying made her shoulders shake and her breath come out weird. Thistle’s flicking ears could hear the catch in her throat, the rising panic growing in the little filly’s sobs. Singer gasped between her tears and Thistle felt her heart break. This wasn’t the first time Splendid Songbird had ever had an anxiety attack, but it didn’t make it any less sad.

Thistle Switch cautiously nuzzled Singer’s head, noticing her loose hair. Ms. Rarity normally braided it before bed, so it didn’t get into Singer’s face, but she must’ve been busy today. “I’m sorry I scared you.” She said. “But we need to bring you home now.”

Splendid wailed between her gasps –“Nooo! Don’t leave!” When Thistle attempted to pick her up, she kicked and stumbled away, and Thistle didn’t try to pick her up again. She wanted to help her, but didn’t know how to do so without making it worse. As she looked around the quiet meadow, it didn’t seem like she had a choice. She needed to calm Singer down, before she hurt herself or vomited from crying too hard.

Thistle Switch said, “I’m going to braid your hair, okay? I bet it doesn’t feel very nice, being all itchy. I know you’re used to Ms. Rarity braiding your hair before bed.” Singer was still crying, but didn’t move when Thistle came closer and sat next to her, and didn’t flinch when Thistle’s big, clumsy paws began to divide her hair into two separate strands. “Did you say good-night to Ms. Rarity today?”

“…N-no.”

“Oh. Maybe we can say good-night when we go home, then. Did you say goodnight to Ms. Pie? I know she’s home.” And she was crying. Thistle didn’t mention that.

“Y-yeah, I sai -I said goodnight to Mama.”

“Am I doing this right?” asked Thistle Switch. She couldn’t really remember how Rarity did it, the braid. It always looked so nice. Hers wasn’t as nice.

Singer didn’t even answer. “I didn’t say goodnight to mommy.”

It took Thistle Switch a second to remember which one had that name. “Ms. Shy?” she realized, and then realized why she was so upset. “Oh. She’s not here right now. She’s gone because she’s helping Evergreen. But she’ll be back.”

“W-when?”

“I don’t know.”

Singer whimpered in response. Thistle let go of her mane, having finished braiding it, and to her surprise, Singer nuzzled herself against Thistle. “I miss them.” She stuttered, “Mommy, and Cookie, and Greeny.”

“I miss them too.” Said Thistle. “But I’m here, and I’ll stay.”

“Okay.” Said Singer.

Her breathing was still shaky and she was still crying, but she wasn’t afraid anymore. Thistle Switch glanced back at the house, which was very far away, and she said, “Do you want to go back?”

“Not yet.” Singer sniffed.

It was a summer night, and the stars and the moon were very bright. In the meadow, they were safe, and Thistle would protect the little filly from any forest creature. The air was humid and warm, and it was open. Thistle didn’t want to go back to the dark, sad house, either. They sat in silence together for a while, and then Thistle said, “I’ll sing you a song.” Said Thistle. “When I was sad, my mother used to sing me a song.”

“Okay.” Said Singer.

And so Thistle sang. It was a Wolf Song, from when she was very little. She didn’t stay with her wolf family for very long, but she never forgot them, and she never forgot their songs. Singer wouldn’t understand the language, but Thistle hoped she would understand the feeling the song brought, of safety.

The song was about the cicadas and the wrens, and the stars and the breeze. It was about coming home and it was about feeling warm. She used to nuzzle against her brother and her mother when she fell asleep, and she didn’t anymore, but she didn’t forget what it was like to be with them. It still felt like she was with them, even when she was alone.

Singer was not alone, and Thistle wouldn’t let her be alone. She sang about that. Singer wouldn’t understand the language, but Thistle hoped she’d understand the promise: Thistle would be there for her, even when it was dark and empty, and sad and confusing.

Thistle sang until Singer fell asleep.

Carefully, she brought her home, and put her back to bed. She left that night, but she would always come back. That was a promise.

Description

Context: Two days ago, Evergreen Candytuft fell out of a tree and appears to have broken her back. Applejack and Rarity are working overtime to try and get something to trade for decent medical care, Dash visited briefly and made everything worse, Fluttershy and Cookie Thimble left with Evergreen to try and find a doctor, and Pinkie is panicking and trying to keep it together. Thistle Switch (11) is taking care of everyone, and finally manages to get Autumn Bounty (6), Cloudy Kiss, Splendid Songbird (4), Marigold (3), and Fairy Lights (2) to go to bed.

Trigger: anxiety attack

Carefully, she walks across the wooden floor and her claws clack with every step.

She takes the curtains in her teeth and sloooowly draws them shut, ears perked to listen for the subtle change in breath of a waking filly.

Autumn, Cloudy, Splendid, Marigold, and Fairy had finally fallen asleep…just when she thought she would herself.

Darkness fell across the room as she shut the stars away.

She loomed over three-year-old Marigold’s bed, gently nosing the blanket back over her shoulders, before creeping over to Splendid’s bed and returning her fallen teddybear to her hooves. She gave a final check over Fairy’s crib, glad to see the small filly sound asleep. Cloudy Kiss and Autumn slept soundly, though she jumped when Cloudy’s leg kicked suddenly as though she was running.

Thistle almost laughed at that.

Cloudy couldn’t help but run, even in her sleep.

Autumn was completely motionless, still as a rock. Just like her sister could turn everything into a race, Autumn turned anything into a competition -even sleeping.

Thistle’s jaw still ached from the kick Autumn delivered after decided that sleeping was the end of a competition she didn’t want to lose.

She crept to the door, quietly and gently, her gaze wandering to the two empty beds in the room.

Evergreen’s bed was so cleanly made one would’ve thought someone had just done so. Her teddybears were carefully lined up against her pillows, her blanket folded at the hoof of her bed. Two days ago, Thistle Switch had surprised a sleeping-in Evergreen by pretending her teddybears were walking away to go to a party, to which Evergreen leapt out of bed to join.

She probably wouldn’t do that again. When she came back, if she came back at all, leaping out of bed would certainly no longer be an option. She let her gaze linger a moment longer, whistling a soft howl as a brief plea to the stars. Let Evergreen come back soon.

She turned to the other bed, her ears drooping at the sight. Cookie’s bed, unmade and jostled, blanket and cover thrown as though she had gotten up in a hurry. She probably had.

Quietly as she could, Thistle crept over and made the bed, pulling the covers up and arranging the pillows in the way she knew Cookie liked. Cookie’s scent still hung in the air, growing fainter by the hour.

Finally, Thistle stood by the door. She whispered, “Good-night, Autumn. Cloudy. Singer. Marigold. Fairy.” She took a fond glance at each one, her voice barely audible to herself.

Silence for a second.

“Good-night, Evergreen and Cookie.”

She blew out the candle on the wall. She slipped out of the room. She did not close the door.

It didn’t seem like any of their mothers were home. She kept her ears high as she went down the ramp.

Not Ms. Shy…she had left yesterday. With Evergreen. And Cookie.

Ms. Rarity and Ms. Apple were probably still working. Trying to get something worthy to trade for Evergreen’s treatment.

Thistle stopped at the front door, having heard a sound.

Oh. Ms. Pie was still home. The top-door to the kitchen was slightly ajar, a stripe of light against the floor of the hallway. Thistle stepped towards it briefly, a half-thought out goodnight on her lips, but stopped at the scent of grapes. Her ear flicked forward to hear Ms. Pie’s muffled sobs.

Thistle turned back around, swallowing her words, and quietly left the house.

The farm was very large, and the path to the forest was very long. Luckily, Thistle was going to the hills…it was a summer night. The air was warm and the wildflowers were blooming. The night was quiet, tinged only by crickets and wind, but it was peaceful, and it was freeing from the tense atmosphere within the Elemental House.

She made her way down the path and stopped amidst the grassy path outside of Sweet Apple Acres, the place between the trodden path and the forest. There was a sound behind her.

“Fisle! Fisle! Wait!”

Splendid Songbird was behind her, running, crying. She could never pronounce the ‘th’. She was only four. She shouldn’t be outside alone.

“Singer, what are you doing?” Thistle Switch asked, “You need to be in bed.”

“Don’t go!” Singer cried. She crashed into Thistle’s legs, wrapping her hooves around her. Thistle Switch didn’t want to hurt her. She stayed very still. Singer pressed her head against Thistle’s bark, suddenly sobbing.

“I have to go.” Thistle answered. She gently pulled her leg from Singer’s grasp, leaving the little filly sitting on the dirt path, looking up at her with teary eyes. “No wolves at night, remember?”

“I’ll miss you!”

“No, you won’t. You’ll be fast asleep, and I’ll be back when it’s morning.”

Singer had never acted like this before about Thistle leaving. Her little body was like a leaf, shaking. As soon as she no longer was holding onto Thistle Switch, she curled in on herself, her little face in her hooves. She was going to get dirty. She let out a tiny wail and another sob.

Thistle Switch glanced around, her ears pricked, for Applejack. Singer seemed really upset, and Thistle didn’t want to get yelled at for scaring her, but she also didn’t want to hurt Singer while trying to comfort her. Thistle asked, “Why are you so sad? I thought you were all sleepy.”

“I-I’m gonna misssss youu!” Singer sobbed.

“I’m coming back tomorrow.” Thistle insisted. “No time for missing. Sleeping time.”

“No you won’t!”

Singer’s uneven crying made her shoulders shake and her breath come out weird. Thistle’s flicking ears could hear the catch in her throat, the rising panic growing in the little filly’s sobs. Singer gasped between her tears and Thistle felt her heart break. This wasn’t the first time Splendid Songbird had ever had an anxiety attack, but it didn’t make it any less sad.

Thistle Switch cautiously nuzzled Singer’s head, noticing her loose hair. Ms. Rarity normally braided it before bed, so it didn’t get into Singer’s face, but she must’ve been busy today. “I’m sorry I scared you.” She said. “But we need to bring you home now.”

Splendid wailed between her gasps –“Nooo! Don’t leave!” When Thistle attempted to pick her up, she kicked and stumbled away, and Thistle didn’t try to pick her up again. She wanted to help her, but didn’t know how to do so without making it worse. As she looked around the quiet meadow, it didn’t seem like she had a choice. She needed to calm Singer down, before she hurt herself or vomited from crying too hard.

Thistle Switch said, “I’m going to braid your hair, okay? I bet it doesn’t feel very nice, being all itchy. I know you’re used to Ms. Rarity braiding your hair before bed.” Singer was still crying, but didn’t move when Thistle came closer and sat next to her, and didn’t flinch when Thistle’s big, clumsy paws began to divide her hair into two separate strands. “Did you say good-night to Ms. Rarity today?”

“…N-no.”

“Oh. Maybe we can say good-night when we go home, then. Did you say goodnight to Ms. Pie? I know she’s home.” And she was crying. Thistle didn’t mention that.

“Y-yeah, I sai -I said goodnight to Mama.”

“Am I doing this right?” asked Thistle Switch. She couldn’t really remember how Rarity did it, the braid. It always looked so nice. Hers wasn’t as nice.

Singer didn’t even answer. “I didn’t say goodnight to mommy.”

It took Thistle Switch a second to remember which one had that name. “Ms. Shy?” she realized, and then realized why she was so upset. “Oh. She’s not here right now. She’s gone because she’s helping Evergreen. But she’ll be back.”

“W-when?”

“I don’t know.”

Singer whimpered in response. Thistle let go of her mane, having finished braiding it, and to her surprise, Singer nuzzled herself against Thistle. “I miss them.” She stuttered, “Mommy, and Cookie, and Greeny.”

“I miss them too.” Said Thistle. “But I’m here, and I’ll stay.”

“Okay.” Said Singer.

Her breathing was still shaky and she was still crying, but she wasn’t afraid anymore. Thistle Switch glanced back at the house, which was very far away, and she said, “Do you want to go back?”

“Not yet.” Singer sniffed.

It was a summer night, and the stars and the moon were very bright. In the meadow, they were safe, and Thistle would protect the little filly from any forest creature. The air was humid and warm, and it was open. Thistle didn’t want to go back to the dark, sad house, either. They sat in silence together for a while, and then Thistle said, “I’ll sing you a song.” Said Thistle. “When I was sad, my mother used to sing me a song.”

“Okay.” Said Singer.

And so Thistle sang. It was a Wolf Song, from when she was very little. She didn’t stay with her wolf family for very long, but she never forgot them, and she never forgot their songs. Singer wouldn’t understand the language, but Thistle hoped she would understand the feeling the song brought, of safety.

The song was about the cicadas and the wrens, and the stars and the breeze. It was about coming home and it was about feeling warm. She used to nuzzle against her brother and her mother when she fell asleep, and she didn’t anymore, but she didn’t forget what it was like to be with them. It still felt like she was with them, even when she was alone.

Singer was not alone, and Thistle wouldn’t let her be alone. She sang about that. Singer wouldn’t understand the language, but Thistle hoped she’d understand the promise: Thistle would be there for her, even when it was dark and empty, and sad and confusing.

Thistle sang until Singer fell asleep.

Carefully, she brought her home, and put her back to bed. She left that night, but she would always come back. That was a promise.