We play a little bit more, but our thoughts and chatter are all on Canterlot, and what may have happened up there. Scootaloo, Apple Bloom, and me... and also the real Sweetie Belle are all slumped around under the shadow of a tree, in the blissful quiet only broken by distant pony voices and the quiet sound of staid hooves clopping around. If I never put one hoof in front of the other, it’ll be too soon. I am so sick of walking.
“Well, well, well!”
My head shoots up, and my mood immediately skyrockets at the voice approaching behind me. I think I crack a vertebrae, turning my head around to come nose to nose with a filly with the exact same colors as my own, and a glittering tiara both in her purple and white hair, and on her butt. Her icy blue eyes both widen and narrow at my sudden reaction, possibly because of the manic grin spreading on my face as I exclaim dramatically,
“Pray’t be so, doctor!”
I don’t care if they think I’ve gone insane, falling on my back and holding my sides, laughing so hard and piercingly that my hind legs are kicking in the air. I have been waiting my entire life to make that joke. My entire life. By the time I collect myself enough to curl over and wipe the tears away both Diamond Tiara and her iconic attache, whose grey fur and white hair seem to sparkle in the sunlight, have presented their rears to us and begun walking hastily away.
“Wait!” I shout out to them.
“Wait?!” Apple Bloom shouts behind me in outrage.
“It was... joke... doctor... in a play...” I tell them eagerly, in between breaths. But Diamond Tiara cuts me off before I can even stand, turning on me and snapping viciously, “You don’t get to talk to me, blank flank!”
“Yeah,” Silver Spoon says in an outraged tone, turning to say at me with a lip curl, “You’re crazy!”
They both snap forward and trot away without another word and... okay, I feel kind of bad now. I let myself fall back, belly up again, remarking in the quiet thereafter, “That could have gone better.”
A pause.
“What. Was that, Sweetie Belle?” Apple Bloom exclaims leaning over me, in shock and maybe a little fear.
“Why were you talking to them?” Scootaloo says on my other side, with an unhappy um... horse noise. I look back and forth, and struggle to my um... haunches, bracing the ground and saying in an apologetic tone.
“I’m as confused as they are,” the real Sweetie Belle says dazedly.
“Sorry um, girls I just... it was a really stupid joke,” I tell them, failing to suppress another girly giggle. “There was once a doctor who went to a patient saying ‘Well, well, well!’ and the m-maid who was with him said ‘Pray’t be so, doctor!’ because she thought he meant well like his patient getting better.”
They’re not laughing. That’s probably a good thing. This sort of thing is over their heads, and my head, and probably my grandfather’s head. “It was just a really bad joke,” I reiterate, and that seems to satisfy them well enough.
Diamond Tiara! Gosh, I was wondering when she’d show up! I wonder when she’s coming back? Does she just not bother us that often? She hasn’t been around in weeks! Have I really been a unicorn filly for weeks?
“So, you um... remember Diamond Tiara, don’t ya?” Apple Bloom asks uneasily.
“She is not going to forget that,” Scootaloo groans, hanging her head.
“I remember her a little...” I say feeling shy at my earlier boldness, “Really it was just what she said. It’s the um... special knowledge that I’ve been wanting to use for a really long time.”
“Well don’t you talk to her,” Apple Bloom says with a fierce look my way, “She likes bein’ mean and hurting ponies, and ah won’t let her do it to you!”
“I wonder why she likes being mean?” I ponder.
“Seriously?” Scootaloo asks with a pained look.
“Okay yeah, but... okay I’ll stop trying to befriend our enemies,” I lie, “But it really is the way to defeat a bully.”
They both look at me blankly.
“What do bullies want to happen when they yell at you and get mean?” I ask testily.
“They want us to cry?” Sweetie Belle suggests.
“They want us to cry?” Scootaloo suggests crossly.
“They want to make us feel bad?” Apple Bloom says with a cute little frown.
“So, if there was a way not to cry and feel bad, they couldn’t get what they want,” I suggest slyly, “And isn’t that the same as defeating them?”
“But... but how do you do that?” Scootaloo asks both in frustration and intrigue.
“By understanding them,” I reply as sagely as I ever could, “By knowing when to fight back, and how far to let them push you. It’s an ...ancient knowledge thing called setting boundaries.”
Holding my forehooves out in front of me I say, “I didn’t really learn a lot about it in detail, b-but we probably can read about it. Like... if she says we’re stupid for being blank flanks, do we stop her from saying it?”
“We’re not supposed to,” Scootaloo replies darkly.
“Okay, so, what if she forces us to hear it again and again, not letting us escape?”
“Then we apologize later when we get in trouble,” Apple Bloom replies simply.
I... half nod at her, saying, “Y-yeah, so when she’s saying something, we shouldn’t stop her. That’s on her side of the boundary. But when she forces us to hear it, we should stop her, because she’s coming on our side of the boundary.”
“How do you know where the boundary is?” Scootaloo asks thoughtfully.
“I don’t um... remember exactly,” I say cagily, “But I think your side of the boundary is when they’re controlling you, and their side is when you’re controlling them. It’s literally impossible for anypony to bully you, if they can’t control you somehow.”
“She weren’t controlling me when she laughed at mah blank uh... rump,” Apple Bloom says, “Just yellin’ at me!”
“Oh I remember when we first met,” I reply snidely, “She wasn’t trying to control what would happen to you at her cuteceñera?”
“W-well she was, but—” Apple Bloom starts, but I firmly insist,
“Then when she couldn’t control you because we um... yes we defended you, you weren’t being bullied anymore? Did she stop making fun of you?”
“Sweetie, was that really so important to you?” Scootaloo asks, and I turn to her and the pumpkin orange filly has starry eyes, “You remember when we first met Apple Bloom?”
“I don’t—” I blush heavily, turning away from the impressed pegasus, “Really control it, but... yeah...”
“How do you remember all this stuff anyway?” Sweetie Belle asks, “I thought you couldn’t read my mind!”
I’d answer her, but... eheh.
“So, wanna go walking some more?” Apple Bloom asks, standing up, “Afore’n Diamond an’ Silver get over your joke thing and come back?”
“Oh, yes let’s make tracks,” I reply, pushing my rear back up into a standing position, “Where to, next?”
“Could we go play in the park?” Scootaloo asks, looking off... in some direction. I have no idea which way is what around here. Canterlot-by-Canterlot-east?
“Can you ride your scooter in the park?” I reply hopefully.
Scootaloo nods.
“Then yes, let’s go, and I’ll practice walking a little,” I say wincing inwardly, “And while I’m doing that, you can practice on your scooter, to do tricks and stuff!”
“That’d be cool!” Scootaloo says with a hesitant smile, “But what about Apple Bloom?”
“I dunno,” I reply, looking at the banana yellow filly. “What do you do for fun?”
She looks lost.
“Well... ah dunno, ah... try t’get mah cutie mark?” she asks uncertainly.