A unicorn foal cried. Her orange mane was messy, and her little hooves pounded angrily while she watched her brother flutter through the air, flying in circles around their shared nursery. Eyes brimming with tears, the little foal wailed once more, kicking up as much of a racket as her little body could produce. She was mad, and she wanted him to know it. She was sad, and she demanded that he stop mocking her. If she couldn't fly, he should be stuck on the ground right beside her.

All of a sudden, a blur of pink shot through the door, and soon the little foal was wrapped up into a loving embrace by strong hooves. The soft muzzle of the pink mare was soon buried in the little foal's mane, gently nuzzling her and whispering soothing words.

"Shh...what's wrong my little Pumpkin?" the sweet voice chimed, as filled with laughter as it ever was, even as a whisper.

"Pound Cake is fwying. He says I can't fwy too. I want to fwy!" the little foal whined, rapping her hooves against the pink mare's chest in frustration. Even as she railed against the pink mare holding her, the little foal began to feel a warm sense of protection blossom in her chest. The pink pony loved her very much.

"Aww, is that all? Well, that's easy!" the voice said, and soon the same hoof that had been comforting her shot to the little foal's belly. With ease, the pink hoof lifted the little foal into the air. The little foal was shocked, and looked down. Far below, the floor of the nursery swung lazily, and the wide smile from the pink mare beamed up at her. Beside the little foal, her brother buzzed past.

Then she was flying. Bouncing on the pink hoof that held her aloft, the little foal found herself swooping and arcing through the air beside her brother. Before long, her tears had dried, and her cries had turned to giddy laughter. Beneath her, the pink mare supporting her laughed along. Her demands to go faster or soar higher were dutifully met by the pink pony, and after many long minutes of play the little foal was once again wrapped into a loving embrace. While the pink mare cradled her, she continued to smile at the little foal.

"Don't you worry about a thing; just leave it to your Auntie Pinkie!"

---

A unicorn filly cried. Her orange mane had been done in braids by her mother, tied with ivory ribbons for her first day of school. Her hooves shuffled nervously at the dirt path leading up to the bright red schoolhouse. Dozens of other little fillies and colts ran about, laughing and making new friends. Her brother ran fastest of them all. Her parents had promised that school would be fun, but her brother had run off without her, and now she was all alone. She had never felt alone like this before, made all the worse because she was surrounded by ponies enjoying each other's company.

All of a sudden, a familiar hoof wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her into a hug. She'd known this embrace all her life, and looked up at the ever-cheerful pink mare, who shot her a smile. A pink hoof gently brushed the tears from the little filly's face, and a gentle voice spoke words of encouragement.

"Shh...what's wrong, my little Pumpkin?" the sweet voice chimed, as filled with laughter as it ever was, even as it ached to see the filly grow up.

"Pound Cake is so good at making friends. I'm not going to be able to make any friends. I'll be all alone!" the little filly whined, burying her snout in the curly pink mane and pressing close to the familiar mare out of fear. A gentle hoof was patting the little filly's back, calming her racing heart with its gentle rubs and pats.

"Aww, is that all? Well, that's easy!" the pink mare said, pulling back to look the little filly in the eye. Together the two ponies walked the path up to the schoolhouse door, where the other little fillies laughed and played. The pink mare greeted the schoolteacher, the two old friends always happy to chat. After a quick explanation of the little filly's trepidation, the two mares retrieved a long jump rope, and the bubbly pink mare invited all the fillies and colts in the yard to join in the game. Soon, with the pink mare's help, the little filly was jumping rope with her new classmates.

Her new friends. She was no longer alone. She had friends. The little filly skipped eagerly, her every motion a testament to her joy. The bouncing pink mare turned one end of the jump-rope, grinning at the little filly until the schoolteacher called the young ponies inside. It was time for class. The little filly stole one last hug from the pink mare, thanking her for her help.

"Don't you worry about a thing; just leave it to your Auntie Pinkie!"

---

A unicorn foal cried. A unicorn mare felt like pulling her orange mane out in frustration. The little mare's daughter hadn't slept in nearly two days, and her constant cries were steadily driving her mother mad. The little mare had no stallion to help her, and the cramped and uncomfortable apartments on the edge of Ponyville offered her no respite from her stress. Her eyes filled with tears as her daughter ignored her pleas for quiet yet again. Tired and alone, the little mare was on the verge of breaking down, of closing the door and ignoring her daughter's cries, of drowning them out with cries of her own.

All of a sudden, a knock on the front door caught her attention. Her daughter safe in her crib, the little mare opened the door, and was immediately wrapped up in a fierce hug. The aging pink mare stood before her, her once vibrant pink mane streaked with swirls of gray, but her smile was the same as always.

"Shh...what's wrong my little Pumpkin?" the sweet voice chimed, as filled with laughter as it ever was, even as the weight of the years fought to dampen it. Not even the web of wrinkles around the pink mare's eyes could undermine her exuberance.

"Funnel Cake is has been crying for days. I...I just want some peace and quiet so I can sleep. I think I'm going mad!" the little mare said, her words strained, trying in vain to smooth her disheveled mane while she ushered the graying mare inside.

"Aww, is that all? Well, that's easy!" the graying mare said, walking confidently to the edge of the crib. With practiced hooves, she lifted the crying foal, and began to rock her. The graying mare's voice sang clear and soft, a forgotten lullaby that the little mare had once known. A reminder of simpler times. Times when her brother was her constant companion, before he left to find his way in Cloudsdale. Times when she wasn't alone.

The crying foal slowly quieted, and soon was snoring softly in the hooves of the graying mare. The little mare let out a sigh of relief, even as she was herded into her own claustrophobic bedroom. As the little mare crawled under her covers, the graying mare went to sit in the other room, still cradling the sleeping foal. Just before the door closed and sleep took over, the little mare heard someone speak.

"Don't you worry about a thing; just leave it to your Auntie Pinkie!"

---

A unicorn mare cried. Her orange mane was starting to gray. Around her, the bitter smell of the hospital assailed her nose. She sniffled and tried to keep the tears from flowing, rubbing at her snout with a hoof. Her daughter was in the hallway, waiting for the little mare to finish. It was too much for her daughter to take.

All of a sudden, a flurry of coughs rose from the old gray mare lying in the hospital bed. Her hair, once so lively, hung limp and brittle from her head. Her eyes, once bright and eager, were now sunken and rimmed with dark pouches, A wrinkled and colourless hoof reached up from the thin hospital sheets, and wrapped the little mare into a worryingly weak hug. Finally, the little mare couldn't hold back the tears anymore.

"Shh...what's wrong my little Pumpkin?" the sweet voice chimed, as filled with laughter as it ever was, even as the illness fought to choke the life out of it.

"I'm so scared. You've always been here for me, and I don't want to lose you. Don't leave me alone..." the little mare said, her tears staining the sheets as she looked down at the withering pony below her. The old gray mare was little more than a pale shadow of the mare she had once been.

"Aww, is that all? Well, that's easy!" the old gray mare wheezed, trying her best to puff herself up. The tubes and wires affixed to the old gray mare shifted as she fought to sit up. The little mare wasn't sure if she was seeing things, but it almost seemed like the old mare's colour came back, if only for a moment. She could almost imagine the old gray mare with the bouncy pink mane of her youth.

The old gray mare made promises. She swore that she would get better, that she would beat the wasting illness that had laid her low. Above all, she promised that she would be there to host the wedding reception for Funnel Cake the following summer. Her promises drove needles of heartache into the little mare, for she knew that every single one was a lie.

"Don't you worry about a thing; just leave it to your Auntie Pinkie..."

---

A unicorn mare cried. Her mane had long since gone gray, and the bitter winter wind made it dance. All around the little mare, the world seemed to be gray as well. Rows upon rows of rounded stones sat in the frosty ground, waiting to impart the memory of those who lay below unto the curious. Some stones were new, some weathered nearly into rubble. The one before the little mare had seen a handful of years, but the writing was a clear as the day it was carved. A trio of balloons had once marked the grave, but they had since deflated and sank to the ground. As her tears threatened to freeze on her face, the little mare could almost hear the long lost voice on the wind.

"Shh...what's wrong my little Pumpkin?" the wind whispered, a mocking voice devoid of the laughter that had always accompanied those words.

"I miss you so much. You were always there for us. I...I wish you could meet my new grandfoal..." the little mare said, her wracking sobs drifting over the empty graveyard. Foolishly hoping, the little mare perked her ears, straining to hear the reply that had always followed. Every time she had stumbled, there was a pink pony there to make her smile, and make everything better. There to speak those same words, time and time again, that every problem had a simple solution that only she could ever find.

But there were no words, only the cold wind biting at her wet cheeks. There was no simple solution. There were no strong pink hooves to wrap her into a hug. She was standing there, well and truly alone.

"You would have really liked her. My new grandfoal." the little mare continued. "She's the happiest foal I've ever seen. Her name is Tickled Pink." Even as the tears flowed and fell onto the grass below, the little mare smiled. A sad smile, a smile that looked back through the gulf of time, to a nursery where an earth pony and a unicorn flew with a pegasus.

"I think I'll call her Pinkie."

With that, Pumpkin Cake ran her hoof over the epitaph for the pink mare, etched in the stone for the ages.