MLP: Friendship is Magic
Living Beyond the Everfree:
Observations of an Artist Pony
(Disclaimer: I own nothing from the My Little Pony franchise except my OCs. Note: This story and these characters exist after the Changelings' defeat.)
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Lines become shapes. Shapes join, making forms. Forms create a picture.
Lying on one of the couches in Froud City's grand library, Sketchbook quickly sketched out the bare bones of her latest drawing.
"Thank you so much, Written Word," said the mare at the checkout desk, her filly holding four books and bouncing up and down happily. "Pangaea's wanted to read the Dinosaur Utopia series for months. I'm so glad you managed to get them shipped from Ponyville."
"No problem, Inquiry. Always glad helping my fellow readers," Written Word, Chief Librarian and Sketchbook's best friend, replied. The creamy, freckled unicorn then winked down at Pangaea. "My favorites are numbers two and six, Quest for the Great River and Storm of Fire. They're so good! Hope you enjoy all of them!"
Sketchbook smiled as Wordy waved farewell to her latest happy…well, maybe "customers" wasn't the right term.
Wordy would know; she's the walking dictionary. I'm just the art pony.
She raised her pencil and observed her work: the rough forms of Wordy and Inquiry smiling at Pangaea and her books.
Hmm. Inquiry's eyes are too disproportionate…
"Working hard or hardly working over there, Sketch?" called Wordy wryly but warmly, sifting through the books of the check-in pile.
"Oh, just trying to get the size of Miss Inquiry's eyes right. You know how it is."
"Yep. Well, as usual, I call first-viewing dibs when you're finished."
Sketchbook giggled, but before she said anything else, the library's doors opened again. Written Word turned eagerly, eyes bright and face split by a wide smile.
"Welcome to Froud Library! How may I―? Oh…" Wordy's friendly attitude and expression dissolved. "It's you."
"Good afternoon, Written Word," said the small dragon – "small" as dragonkind went, anyway – striding in. "As always, I enjoy your hospitable reception. Perfect for my return from aerial guard duty at Knight's Peak."
Written Word rolled her eyes. "And you had to come here first."
"But of course. You're my favorite little book enthusiast after all." The dragon sidled alongside the desk. "Been thinking of me whilst you read the day away?"
"Like I've been thinking of the sore at the roof of my mouth, Argent," Wordy retorted, her expression emotionless.
Argent cleared his throat, looking down his snout at the unicorn. "It's Silverstorm Skystriker now, librarian. How many times must I tell you before your thick skull finally absorbs that knowledge?"
Wordy returned to sorting tomes. "You entered my library and made your first and most, ahem, memorable impression as 'Argent', so 'Argent' you shall be within these walls so long as I am Chief Librarian."
Sketchbook sighed and shook her head while the dragon and the unicorn entered another of their infamous spats.
Here they go again. So cliché, and yet it happens, the art pony thought, turning from today's sketch to one months older and unfinished, her horn's magic levitating her professional Prismshine pencils. Thus, Sketchbook began finishing the work that, by all rights, should have been completed the previous year.
Some ashen grey to properly shade the wings, neck, and back…
"Of every unicorn across Equestria, you're one of the privileged few with more brains than actual sense!"
"And you are the most arrogant, incorrigible wyrm I've ever met!"
Light umber and bronze with tints of pale vermilion red here, here, here, and here for the mane and tail…
"At least I'm not an emotionally, willingly repressed little foal who refuses to trust anyone and is too afraid and hateful of failure to make any effort to salvage what could once again be a welcome romantic relationship!"
Sketchbook gasped, her head jerking up, away from her drawing folio. Her shock cut off her concentration so abruptly that her pencils clattered on the floor.
Argent's eyes betrayed that he knew he stepped too far, though he didn't look any less resentful. Written Word, on the other hoof, had taken a few steps backward, her mouth hanging open and her ears flattened against her head.
She's going to cry.
But Sketchbook resisted the urge to gallop to her friend; hurt-fueled anger, ready for lashing out at anyone, rapidly filled the librarian's face.
"Get out."
Argent barely twitched.
"I. Said." Wordy's horn glowed. "GET OUT OF MY LIBRARY!"
Hooves clapped over her ears, Sketchbook heard nothing of Argent's response. She only saw him wheel around and stalk away, slamming the library doors shut with his tail.
Wordy stood in the same spot for a few moments, tears threatening to spill down her face, but eventually, she turned and stomped deeper into the library.
"I'll be in the archives. Re-sorting," she said, disappearing behind one of the many gigantic shelves.
And that ends visiting hours for today – as if anyone would want to come in here after Written Word's rattled the windows again with her voice-amplifying spell. Sketchbook picked up her pencils. I'll bet ponies heard that disaster in Canterlot.
The art pony continued finalizing her drawing.
Lives touch and make connections. Connections strengthen, forming relationships. Relationships make bonds, which draw people together.
Done coloring, Sketchbook examined the picture. Wordy, an open book resting in her hooves as always, sat sheltered under Argent's wing, both unicorn and dragon looking at each other with contentment and affection. Silver & Scout Meadow surrounded them, blooming fully with springtime.
…but something's missing.
Pulling out a black pencil, Sketchbook added the finishing touch with graceful loops and swirls. Now, above and to the right of Wordy and Argent was the word "Hope" and, written vertically and sharing the "o", was "I'm sorry."