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The Price of a Dream · FiM Minific ·
Organised by RogerDodger
Word limit 400–750
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Hearth's Warming Cards
“Apple Bloom?” Big Macintosh stomped into the kitchen, shaking snow from his mane and holding a letter in his teeth. “Mail’s here.”

The young Apple mare looked up from her bowl of hot vegetable stew. “More holiday cards, I reckon?”

He nodded and, in his usual way, said no more than necessary. “Scootaloo.”

Her eyes bulging, Apple Bloom leapt up and snatched the letter. With clumsy eagerness, she tore away at the useless exterior and extracted the gold within. Her eyes burned through line by line, and soon, they leaked salty tears.

“How is she?”

“Great,” said Apple Bloom, smiling and wiping her eyes clear. “More ‘n great! She an’ the Wonderbolts are puttin’ on a two-week show out in Fillydelphia. I’m mighty proud of her.”

“Eeyup.”

“I mean,” she said while fidgeting her hooves, “she made it. She’s living her dream.”


“I can’t do it.”

“Aww c’mon, Skyshine, just give it another try.” Scootaloo looked down at the young filly and offered her brightest smile.

“No! I hate my stupid wings.” Skyshine pouted and flapped her wings for added emphasis—one full-grown and healthy, the other small and deformed. “I’ll never be able to fly like you, Scootaloo.”

Scootaloo’s smile weakened. She turned her gaze to the side and stood quiet for a moment. “Y’know, Skyshine,” she said softly, “I only learned how to fly two years ago.”

The filly’s jaw dropped. “What?! But you’re so old! You’re like, like... sixteen! At least!”

She chuckled and rustled Skyshine’s mane. “Yeah, yeah, just call me Granny Scoots while you’re at it.” As her laughter died down, her face grew nostalgic again. “Look, my wings aren't perfect either, kiddo. But I didn't give up, and one day, I finally flew.” She placed a hoof on Skyshine’s chest. “You will, too. I believe in you.”

Skyshine beamed. “You think so? You really think so?!”

"I know so."

“Hey, Scootaloo, I grabbed the mail!” called out Derpy from the next room. “You got a card from Sweetie Belle.”

Scootaloo’s ears perked. “Thanks, boss!” She grinned at Skyshine. “She’s a really special friend of mine: a big-shot singer in Manehattan. Can you believe that?” She laughed and shook her head. “Anyway, c’mon. Let’s work on your strength-building exercises again.”


“—then your face will really show it. If you’re happy and you know it, stomp your hooves!”

The classroom ignited with cheers as the young colts and fillies banged their hooves against floor and desk.

“Your voice is so pretty, Miss Sweetie Belle!”

“You’re the best teacher ever!”

Sweetie Belle blushed and squirmed. “Aww, they’re just nursery rhymes. It’s nothing special.” She shook her head clear. “Now c’mon, class. That’s enough song time for today. We still need to get to your vocabulary quiz.”

Most of the class groaned in unison, save for one small colt in the front row. “Wait, one thing first.” He reached under his desk and pulled out a small card, blatantly hoof-made. “We all made you a Hearth’s Warming card! For our favorite teacher, Miss Sweetie Belle!”

Sweetie Belle choked up. “Aww...” She bit her lip and looked out over her students. “Thank you so much, everypony. I love it!” She floated the card over to her desk, gently propping it up beside another.

“Miss Sweetie Belle?” asked a filly in the second row. “Who’s that other card from?”

Sweetie Belle grinned. “That’s from my old school friend, Apple Bloom. She’s the best carpenter in my hometown of Ponyville. It’s exactly what she always wanted to be.”

“Did you always wanna be a teacher, Miss Sweetie Belle?”

She put on a broad smile. “Of course!”


“Well, glad to hear it,” said Big Macintosh.

“Me too!” Apple Bloom blinked and looked at the clock. “Shoot, what’re you doin’, yammerin’ on with me? You’re gonna miss the train to Canterlot.” She shoved against her brother, nudging him out the front door. “Be sure to say hi to Sis and Twilight and everypony for me.”

“Of course.” Big Macintosh turned back and frowned. “You sure you can manage on your own?”

“C’mon!” Apple Bloom smirked and saluted him. “You’re talking to your little sister, remember? I practically run Sweet Apple Acres by myself nowadays. A week without you around is no sweat.”

He nodded. “Okay, then. Just don’t get carried away.” With that, he turned and stepped back out into the snow.

Apple Bloom looked at the closet, where a small bag of tools was gathering dust. “I won’t.”
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