Wolf Pone

>be Anon

>turns out that ponies accept you just fine

>you know, friendship and shit

>that's why you're walking with Rainbow Dash out to this field

>thing is, Dash isn't quite the same as you remembered from the show

>due to shenanigans involving the CMC, Twilight's magic and the Everfree Forest, she is padding along beside you as a wolf; all blue with rainbow hair and tail, feathery wings, those same magenta eyes and even her cutie mark on the outside of her back legs, but a wolf nonetheless

>her nose is close to the ground, twitching and huffing as she sniffs along the grass, smelling things your human nose could never hope to

>"Smell anything good down there?"

>she looks up at you, licking her chops

>"Yeah. Me!"

>"You, huh?"

>"Way better than any of those lame timberwolves. I'm really glad Rarity gave me that lilac shampoo. It's hard enough to wash myself as it is like this without smelling like wet Winona afterwards."

>your chest tightens as you think of her paddling around in the tub, shampoo bottle clenched between her teeth, drizzling the foamy white liquid all over her body

>trotting ahead, Dash doesn't notice

>even in this lupine form, she can still prance like a champ

>but one thing she hasn't gotten entirely used to yet is flying

>stopping in the middle of the field, she extends her wings to their fullest extent and flaps hard, trying to get off the ground

>she rises an inch, maybe two, paws hanging, before she comes crashing back to earth

>"ponyfeathers!"

>Dash gets up, lips peeled back, growling to herself a little

>"I'm not as aerodynamic as I used to be!"

>"You weren't aerodynamic before."

>"Shut up, Anon."

>running forward, she jumps, launching herself into the air, wings spread, and glides a couple of feet before her feet catch on the ground and she goes tumbling again in a spray of dirt

>you walk over

>"I know you really want to fly again, but don't go hurting yourself too badly. I doubt Nurse Redheart's up-to-date on her Lupine Care Manual."

>"If you keep talking like that we'll see how up-to-date she is on her Monkey Care Manual!"

>you sigh

>Dash has never been great at comebacks

>heaving herself off the ground again, she flutters her wings, looking forlornly over her shoulder at them

>"I just have all this energy. And I can't fly!"

>you pick up a stick, pulling your arm back, and chuck it

>"Fetch!"

>Dash gives you a look

>her nose is twitching

>"Lame. No."

>"You know you want to."

>she growls

>"No, I don't!"

>you roll your eyes

>"You're just mad because you couldn't find it if you wanted to."

>"I could to! I can smell it!"

>she plants all four paws firmly on the ground, head extended, a steely gleam in her eye, tail whipping

>"Pfft. No you can't."

>she's off like a shot. Even as a wolf, Dash's lost none of her speed

>in seconds she's back, stick in her mouth

>she drops it at your feet, panting, tail wagging

>"Here's your stupid stick."

>you lean over to pick up the stick

>at this range your faces are very close together, your nose just inches from her muzzle, and you're staring into those bright, purple eyes

>you grin

>"You want the stick?"

>she scowls at you, but her tail wags at the word "stick"

>"No, you wanted it. That's why I got it for you."

>"Stick."

>she wags

>you lift your arm up again, holding it over your head

>her eyes go wide

>"Give me the stick, Anon!"

>"Only if you sit-"

>she tackles you

>turns out she goes zero to sixty in a lot less time than you would have thought, and while she can't fly yet, she sure as hell can jump

>you both go tumbling down, and she's on you, standing on your chest, making little guttural noises as she noses at your face as you jam the stick behind your back

>"Stick, Anon!"

>"No! Bad Dash!"

>letting go of the stick for a moment, you wrap your arms around her in a surprise move and roll over

>her padded feet kick at you as you end up on top, but you're not worried: you have a secret weapon

>your hands pomp onto her stomach as you commence operation: belly rub

>she immediately starts thrashing, tongue hanging out of the side of her muzzle, tail lashing about between your legs, laughing

>"Ah! Anon!"

>you make some dumb sounds with your mouth and pat her downy belly fur, running your fingers through it as she pants, rubbing her back against the ground

>"Who's a good girl? You are! You are!"

>"S-stop, Anon!"

>you go in for the kill

>keeping your hands to either side of her, pinning her back legs with your thighs together, you lean down and plant your face against her belly

>"PPPPLLFFFFFTT"

>she's laughing so hard you can feel her belly heaving against your face, and that's when she finally separates with a kick of the legs

>still kneeling on the ground, you've only barely looked up again when she darts around behind you, grabs the stick in her mouth and stands stock-still, tail up, staring at you intently

>"Dash..."

>standing, you turn, holding your hand out for the stick

>"Stick, Dash."

>she growls a little, shaking her head back and forth, though you can't quite tell if she's refusing or just worrying the stick

>"Stick, Dash!"

>she looks baleful, but takes a step closer

>you can hear her breathing heavily around the stick

>"Good girl..."

>approaching reluctantly, she lets you put your hand on it

>you pull, and she pulls back, growling again

>"Leave it!"

>"Murrphine, franon!"

>with your other hand you reach out and rub her behind the ears, pushing the triangular ears down with your hand for a moment and scratching your nails through her fur

>she goes quiet, eyes closing

>Dash's mouth opens, and you have the stick

>it's covered in slobber

>ew

>but kinda hot

>"Good girl."

>she sits back on her haunches, looking petulant

>"Still my stick."

>"This stick? I thought you didn't want it."

>she looks embarrassed

>can wolves blush?

>"I mean, I proved that I could find it. So there!"

>"So if I throw it again, you totally wouldn't chase it?"

>she doesn't say anything, but you lift your hand again and her eyes snap to the stick

>"N-no."

>element of honesty, this one isn't

>well, neither are you

>hauling your arm back, you swing your arm hard, keeping the stick in hand

>"Go get it!"

>she flashes off in a burst of rainbow, then stops in her tracks, looking over her shoulder at you smugly holding the stick

>she almost looks hurt

>"Anon!"

>she rushes you, but you're ready

>as she leaps you drop the stick and catch her by the front paws, stepping back so she's forced to balance on her hind legs

>"Oh, you want to dance?"

>she looks surprised for a moment, eyes wide, before she snarls

>but she can't do anything, only shakily balancing on her back legs as you guide her around the field, doing an exaggerated and probably totally wrong version of the waltz

>"What are you doing, Anon?!"

>"Just dancing with my friend! What are you doing?"

>wrenching back, she hits the ground on all four paws and launches herself forward, catching you around the middle with her head

>for the second time in as many minutes you both fall, and she's on top of you again

>"Dash, no-"

>a big, saliva-coated tongue smacks against your cheek as she drags it over your face, covering your skin in shiny, Dash-smelling slobber

>laughing, you twist your head back, helpless to escape, and then reach up and hug her close

>there's no rolling over this time as you both lie there in the field together, panting and giggling, stick forgotten

>she licks you tenderly, and your hand finds its way up to her head, moving in little circular motions behind her ears

>her tongue's still hanging out, and you chuckle at the sight

>she rolls her lupine eyes in good-nature

>"You're a jerk, Anon."

>"You too, Dash."