The train chugged towards its resting place for the night, the private, depot between Canterbury and Whitstable. Canterlot’s spires gleamed under the full moon, a beacon that guided them home after a long first day.

As the brakes began to moan, Midnight Rumble leaped across the cabin and craned his head outside, the soreness around his eyes disappearing as they widened. The smell of smoke mixed with the scent of wildflowers shivering along the sides of the tracks. In the distance, a silver smudge gained distinction against grey shadows.

“Finally,” he whispered.

Behind him, Coko gave a short laugh. “Easy, Mumbles, we’re not there yet.”

“Don’t call m-me Mumbles,” said Midnight, thinking about the platforms of wonderful rolling stock ahead, polished in preparation for another day of service.

“Sorry?”

“I said I don’t really like that name.” Midnight tried to angle his head to see the oncoming buildings more clearly.

“It’s a good thing you’re the best railpony I’ve seen in near years,” Coko suddenly yelled below his ear, “because you wouldn’t stand much chance getting another job mumbling the way you do!”

“Ouchhmmmm!” Midnight squealed, cracking his head against the window edge. He was lucky to fall against Coko, whose body broke his drop. Still, he saw stars in the open window.

Coko kneeled down beside him. His wrinkles cast shadows across his face. “Like I said, good job you’re a railpony. Don’t need a loud voice here, we can hear you fine. Come on now, let’s have a look.”

He gently touched Midnight’s head; still, Midnight winced. A throbbing feeling laid itself to rest behind his flushing face, synchronising not only with his heartbeat, but with the train’s metronome puffing. 

Something glistened like oil on Coko’s hoof as he withdrew. The stiff black brim of his hat caught the moonlight like the edge of a knife. Then cool blue light filtered through the window. Station lighting.

“You’ll feel better in five minutes,” Coko reassured him.

“I feel weird,” Midnight said, but even he couldn’t distingush the words, for he slurred them.

“Atta boy,” Coko laughed. “Anyway, I’m not surprised.”

A protacted [i]psshhh[/i] of steam and a jolt indicated they had finally arrived. Even a wounded head couldn’t keep excitement from surging through Midnight.

“Well, you probably won’t feel any less weird out there, but best get it over with.”

Midnight hoisted himself upright. Jis legs wobbled, but didn’t fail, carrying him clumsily yet swiftly to the door, which moved just before he hit it.

Steam swirled around him. He misjudged the step between the train and platform edge. Still, he didn’t stumble, though his vision swam, and he grinned.

The swirling steam cleared. Midnight gazed around.

He kept gazing, mouth falling open.

It was a tiny shed with just one siding. The walls were covered in photographs of the Friendship Express standing magnificent in various stations beside by various ponies in conductor’s hats: a green earth pony, a red-maned unicorn, a yellow pegasus. Two makeshift beds, one messy and one neatly made, were shunted up against the edge of the platform. They almost touched the train engine.

Midnight whirled around. “Where…?” he managed, before his tongue filled his mouth.

Coko stepped onto the platform. He held a recently-washed but evidently used hat between his teeth, the same style as his own.

“There aren’t any other trains, Mumbles,” Coko said. “Our girl’s the only one.”

“Bu…”

“We’ll stick together ‘til the end of this week. Don’t worry. We’ll look after you.” Coko turned and actually nuzzled the train.

To Midnight’s alarm, a low whistle responded. His coat stood on end.

“You won’t get many years with her, you know,” said Coko without looking at Midnight. Then he sighed and smiled. “Maybe this isn’t your dream. But it’s what we’ve got. And Friendship is fantastic.”

Stunned, Midnight let Coko push the blue hat into his grasp. He turned it over. The inside rim was red and damp, and several items had been stitched into the material: among them, a green tuft of hair, a red mane lock, and a yellow feather.

His head and hooves throbbed.

“Come on, now,” Coko urged.

Part of Midnight protested. But his love of the railroad rejoiced as he laboriously lifted the hat up and set it on his head. Warmth blossomed in his chest, thumping in time with his heart, like magic, or like a chugging steam engine.

“Attaboy,” said Coko. “Shift starts in two hours. Let’s get some rest.”