One very large white pony on a very large purple cushion. One tiny purple flag tied around and hanging from the longest horn ever witnessed by a Canterlot foal. One colt determined to snatch that flag at any and all costs.

In the grand study of Princess Celestia, a young Blueblood slowly approached his seemingly cushion napping Aunt, seemingly oblivious to the small banner that hung from her horn. A game of capture the flag that Blueblood had been playing with the some of the Gifted Unicorn students. Blueblood had at least placed their flag inside of an inanimate pony armor; unseen, but at least not dangerous. It seemed unfair then for the gifted unicorn students to tie one to she who could sentence any foal to time-out with a mere glance.

The obstacle was great, but Blueblood was determined not to lose this game. Since she was napping, he reasoned, all that he needed to do was untie the banner and rush off before she awakened. No harm no foul, and his light steps would hardly disturb her. Using these thoughts to build his confidence, Blueblood stepped lightly onto the cushion first. Starting from the side-rear, Blueblood arduously climbed the sun stamped flank, using the flowing tail as a sort of rope to support himself. He made sure to bite down gently but firmly; one slip would send him right back to where he started. From there, he carefully began tip-toeing along the back. A stir caused him to freeze in place, breath held, as it seemed that Celestia was awakening.

Her eyes fluttered, but they never fully opened. Once satisfied that this journey could resume, Blueblood, more slowly, more carefully, placed his small hooves on the body of his Aunt, mindful that stepping on any part of either of her wings could be disastrous. Ever step the behemoth stirred it seemed, every breath seemed to bring happier and happier dreams, if her wide grin was any indication.

With the grace of a mare and the force of a young colt, Blueblood leaped from her shoulders to the top of her head. Scrambling to keep his grip, the colt bit at the flowing river mane, hooves flailing precariously over the five foot drop. His life depended on not falling, not making such a ruckus with his body breaking that might would disturb the Great Mare of the Study. Finally, forearm over forearm, he managed to scrambled back to the top of her head.

Blueblood concluded that Celestia was either a very heavy sleeper or that her flowing mane had the magical cushioning powers of a pillow. His prize, tied atop the top of the horn, seemed ever closer now that he was near the base. He now had two choices; attempt to use his fledgling magic, or make a jump for the purple banner that now dangled just out of his normal reach.

Another grumble and more stirring below gave no time for levitating the banner; Blueblood took a leap of faith, hooves and mouth open wide. For a few seconds, he was in the air, the hard ground and an unhappy Aunt potentially awaiting him should he fail. With a snap his jaws clamped down on the banner, and in that same motion, the banner came undone. Suppressing the desire to scream and let go of his prize, Blueblood almost landed belly-first onto the hard floor when one of the great wings shot out beneath him, catching him before he could meet his maker at the hands of cruel gravity.

She was awake, Blueblood was sure of it now. His heart raced, his body locked up, and he dared a glance at the flag guardian. Her eyes were still closed, and she murmured, "Fly, Wonderbolts, let me show you how..."

Wel, both of her wings were outstretched, as if in preparation for flight, so she must still be dreaming, Blueblood thought with great relief. As her wings lowered to the ground, Blueblood leaped to the safety of solid ground. Without another thought or a look back to see if they started flapping in demonstration for the Dreambolts, he scampered towards the still cracked open door, dead set on being the first to return with his flag. Even as he slipped from her room, he thought he heard the faintest sound of giggling.