“Girls? Girls!” Cheerilee gaped and galloped at a full sprint across the schoolyard, pushing her way through a small crowd of nervous fillies. “Stop it this [i]instant[/i]! [i]Girls[/i]!” She bit down on a small filly’s blonde mane and tugged her out of the melee. She held her and the other filly apart at foreleg’s length, and alternated glares at each of them. “What in Celestia’s name is going on here? Talk. [i]Now[/i].”

Dinky Hooves glared at her bloodied opponent. Her eyes glistened with a special kind of tears: those borne of pure, unadulterated hatred. “She... She said awful thing—horrible things—about Mommy!”

“I didn't!” Diamond Tiara held up her hooves defensively and spoke with the tact of a politician. “I only said the truth. It’s a real medical condition, and—”

Dinky leaned her full weight into Cheerilee’s foreleg, swinging her hooves as hard as she could. “She called Mommy a retard!”

Cheerilee inhaled sharply. The onlooking classmates instinctively stepped backwards, stunned into silence. After a pause, Cheerilee turned to one of them. “Dinky Hooves. There is no excuse to ever attack one of your classmates like that.”

“What?! But she—” Her protest stopped cold when Cheerilee held up her hoof.

“You need to use your words, never your hooves. You need to take the mature, responsible course of action. Do I make myself clear?” She frowned at the unintelligible reply. “Dinky, is that clear?”

Dinky bowed her head. Her expression hid behind her bangs, her tone flat. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” With a nod, she slowly walked back toward the schoolhouse. “Diamond Tiara. Come with me.”

Diamond Tiara gulped audibly. “U-Um, you’re not going to tell Daddy that I—”

Cheerilee whipped around. “[i]Now[/i]!” she shouted through clenched teeth.

“Yes, ma’am,” she squeaked, her ears drooping flat.

The student and teacher disappeared into the building. Soon after, the rest of the class dispersed as well, heading back to their respective homes. Young Dinky stood alone in the schoolyard. Hot tears dripped from her bowed muzzle as the afternoon sun slowly descended toward the horizon.

“That was very brave of you.”

Dinky looked up. Standing in front of her was a middle-aged unicorn with a brown coat. He smiled disarmingly at her. “Standing up for your mother like that.”

She wiped her eyes clean and looked back to the stranger. “Mommy is the most brave, most kind, most special pony in the whole wide world. Of course I’d stand up for her! I just hate it when... when...”

He stared down his muzzle at her. “When others mention her eyes.”

“Her eyes are different.” She pawed at the ground. “There’s nothing wrong with being different. If everypony was the same, nopony would be special—that’s what Mommy tells me. But I just hate when ponies are mean to Mommy. It’s not her fault.”

The stallion let silence hang in the air before adding, “It needn't be that way, you know.”

“Huh?”

“Your mother’s eyes.”

Dinky took a step backwards and looked up at the unicorn. “What do you mean?”

He smiled. “You see, my dear, I’m a doctor. My special talent is healing unusual ailments with my magic.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Why, I bet that I could help fix your dear mother’s eyesight.”

Dinky’s eyes grew and her jaw fell. “You mean it? You could make Mommy look...”

“Normal.” He continued to smile at her. “And she’d never be teased for her appearance again. But it won’t be easy.” His smile disappeared for once. “It will be difficult to gather all the ingredients for my spell. You’ll need to be very brave. Are you willing to do that, for your dear, sweet mother?”

“Of course!” she replied immediately. “I’d do [i]anything[/i] to help Mommy.”

His smile returned. “That’s a good girl. Come along with me, then. We’ll get started right away.” He turned down the path leading away from the school, with her following close at his hooves.
[hr]
Derpy looked up from the dinner she was preparing and frowned. “A letter?” she asked rhetorically. The letter lay in the entryway, just underneath the mail slot. She had not noticed its arrival, nor had it been in her mailbag when she ran her route this morning.

She stepped over to the letter, opened it up, and began reading from the top. As her eyes scanned row by row, her blood slowly turned to ice. Upon reading the last word, she dropped the letter and brought her trembling hooves to her face. “Muffin...”