“You’re doing it wrong.”

Tempest’s eyes darted up from the stubborn weed in her future garden, and they met big, golden ones. A young earth pony mare was standing at the edge of Tempest’s garden, leaning against the wooden fence with a friendly grin on her face.

“Wuhrt—” said Tempest, before she realized there were still leaves and stems in her mouth. She spat. “What do you mean?”

The girl hopped over and made her way next to her.

“You see,” she said as she nosed around the base of another large weed. “You’ve got to get a hold of them as close to the roots as you can.” She seized the offending shoot between her molars and continued speaking out the other side of her mouth. “Then, y’can achually git a grip on ‘em!”

With a flick of her lithe neck, the whole stalk came out, dirt-clumped roots and all.

“If you leave the roots, they’ll grow back.” said the mare, spitting out the tangled mass.

“I see,” said Tempest. She looked back at the shredded mess of vegetation behind her. “I’ll have to go back and dig up the ones I missed.”

Even though she hadn’t done anything wrong, the mare looked apologetic. She offered another smile.

“I can help if you want; I’m not doing anything much today. And it looks like you’ve got a lot of space left to clear.”

Tempest's tongue suddenly felt thick and clumsy. Part of her wanted to say no. She almost said no.

“Sure,” was what she said. “I have shovels, in the back.”

“Great!” said the mare. The sun made her auburn coat shine as she trotted over. “My name’s Willowbark, by the way. What’s yours?”

“Fizzlepop,” said Tempest.

[hr]

When the spring breeze tickled the tree branches, and the birds were singing, Willowbark was there.

“Hey, Fizzlepop! What are you planting?”

Tempest Shadow carefully put down the packet of seeds before speaking. “Tomatoes, here. And zucchinis, there.”

“Need help with seeding the rows?”

Tempest’s heart raced.

“Sure,” she said.

[hr]

When the still, constricting heat of summer beckoned ponies to the shade of tall, quiet trees, Willowbark was there.

“Hi, again, Fizzlepop. What are you reading?” said WIllowbark.

“Hello, Willow. It’s a novel. About a family, and their life.”

Willowbark paid rapt attention, and Tempest continued.

“It’s about losing relationships, and finding new ones. The father gets remarried, and the kids get new step-siblings all of a sudden. It’s really good, and it’s sad too.”

“Wow.” Willowbark’s eyes shone. “Let me know when you’re done! I might have to borrow it.”

“Sure,” said Tempest, smiling.

[hr]

Tempest looked into the mirror, and she didn’t like what she saw.

She saw a mare who looked older than her years, with ever-present bags under haggard eyes.

A scar, dark and swollen with age, cutting a scowling face in half.

A jagged stump of a broken horn.

Tempest opened a small purse, full of gifts that she had originally intended to pay for, until Rarity had enthusiastically pushed them into her hooves for free.

It was difficult, putting on the eyeliner with a trembling hoof. Almost as difficult as applying an even layer of foundation in the earth pony way, with the brush held in a stand in front of the mirror.

It took her a long time to make the scar less angry, and to make her wrinkles fade.

But when she was done, Fizzlepop looked into the mirror and finally—finally!—a familiar face looked back at her.

[hr]

“Hi, Fizzlepop!” Willowbark called out from where the road came next to Fizzlepop’s fence.

Fizzlepop's heart thundered.

“Hello, Willowbark.”

When Willow finally got a good look at Fizzlepop, a beaming smile split her face.

“Wow, you look beautiful!”

The foundation would hide her blush, Fizzlepop hoped.

“What’s the special occasion?” asked Willow.

“Nothing… I just wanted to look pretty, I guess.”

“I completely understand!” Willowbark said. “I feel like that all the time, and my husband thinks I’m nuts! Sometimes a mare just wants to love herself right?”

Fizzlepop’s world broke. But Willow didn’t notice.

“Oh! Speaking of, I don’t think you’ve met Mumbles yet! How about I bring him over sometime for some of that tea you had me try the other day?”

“... Sure,” said Tempest.

Tempest couldn’t bring herself to say another word, until Willow was gone. Then Tempest went into her tiny bathroom and washed Fizzlepop’s makeup off of her face.

It was already running from the tears, anyway.