"Guess who decided to make an appearance? How's it going blank flank?" a lavender-colored filly sneered as I walk by. She proudly tossed her silky silver mane and grinned down at her elegant clam shell cutie mark.

I froze. Averting my gaze from the stares, I lowered my head in shame. I could feel agony building up in my heart and misery flood my mind. My hooves began to quiver and I felt warm tears flow down my face. I heard more voices, but it all blurred into a painful buzz. I took off, running blindly. My hooves began to ache as they struck the hard cobbles of the streets. I ran faster and faster until at last the noise of the town fadded away. My legs burned, but I kept pushing myself until I collapsed into grass that was still wet with morning dew. I gasped for air, and my whole body trembled with exhaustion and heartache.

I looked up at the blue sky through my tears. My thoughts were an incoherent chaos of emotions. After what seemed like hours of sobbing on and off, I fell asleep and let the day slip away.

My eyes opened and I looked around. The sun was glistening off of a nearby pond and the gentle breeze was tangling my fluffy yellow and white locks into disarray. I sat up and wiped my face, wishing I could push away all the mean words as easily as I could wipe away tears.

I reluctantly turned my head and look down at my grey rump. I had no cutie mark. Everypony my age had a cutie mark. I stood up and shakily walked over to the edge of the water. I nervously peaked my head over the water and looked down at my reflection. Nothing special. No special talent. Not even a name.

"There you are," a kind voice says behind me. I turn and see a pretty mare approaching me. Her soft blue flank was adorned with a lovely composition of roses and a religious symbol. Her white mane glowed as brightly as her smile. She plopped down next to me.

Her smile wilted a bit. "You should not charge off like that, you might get lost."

I averted my gaze and looked into the water, the miserable-looking blue bloodshot eyes of my reflection staring back at me. The mare sighed and tilted my face up to look at her.

"You were brought to the sanctuary when you were just a baby," she said as she began braiding my mane. "Instantly we knew that you were special – a baby with the most adorable smile and the most contagious laughter. But recently, all I see are tears and misery. Why do you cry, my little sunshine?"

My given name was unknown to the sisters who took me in. I was told to expect one upon adoption or taking oaths and joining the sanctuary. Whichever came first. But this mare, Delilah Rose, sometimes called me 'little sunshine.'

"I'm a blank flank," I whimpered.

Delilah's eyes widened. "Who has been calling you that?"

I tried to open my mouth to speak, but my lip began to quiver and the sobs erupted again. I scurried into the mare's arms and she stroked my back soothingly. Delilah always had a soft, soothing way with fouls. It was, after all, her special talent.

"Everypony gets a cutie mark someday," Delilah began, "I was the last one amongst my many siblings to get a cutie mark. My parents adopted a tiny filly when I was your age. I quickly grew to adore her so much. Nothing made me happier than to help take care of her. My desire to sooth the heartaches of Equestria's lost fouls guided me to the sanctuary. The appearance of my cutie mark reassured me that I had found my destiny. Maybe you haven't found your cutie mark because your destiny is waiting elsewhere, far away from bullies."

I looked up at her. "Maybe if I'm adopted?"

She nodded and rose to her hooves. "Come, little sunshine. Let's walk back home together. I'll make sure no mean bullies call you names."

I eagerly walked close to Delilah. As we trotted back into town, I caught a whiff of something sweet in the air. I looked around for the source, and spotted a side of a house covered in strange-looking white and yellow flowers.

I tugged at Delilah's mane, "what's that?"

She walked over to the fence, picked a small bunch, and brought it down for me to see.

"These are honeysuckle flowers," she explained, "They grow on vines and bloom high up! They're so sweet all the bees can't resist visiting." She tucked the honeysuckle flowers into my braid. "White and yellow, just like your mane!"

Suddenly Delilah flashed a glance over her shoulder, her face stricken with worry. She looked back at me and smiled.

"Sorry little sunshine," she said, "I just… somehow feel like we're being watched."

Delilah and I walked home in silence. After that moment, her smiles seemed like a mask. Something was truly troubling her, as if she felt a disturbance that had laid a curse on the quiet town we called home.

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