PART 3
 
>As it turns out, you weren’t completely fine.
>You’ve been stuck at home for a few days feeling downright awful.
>Plenty of rest and a bunch of homemade soup didn’t help either.
 
>You lay in your bed with your sketchpad.
>In your past few days at home, you’ve been drawing almost exclusively headshots of Butterscotch.
>All of the sketches shared the same expression: concern.
>You were having trouble getting beyond that one emotion.
>Maybe it was your illness.
>Maybe you were just tired.
>No, maybe you were feeling guilty about your fixation with Butterscotch.
>You initially believed that your fascination with her revolved around her timidity.
>You aren’t quite sure anymore.
>Now that you’ve been able to crack her shell, the weight of your obsession is overbearing.
>Maybe you should get rid of all of your sketches of her, or-
 
>*knock knock knock*
 
>A few gentle knocks on your window cause your heart to skip a beat.
>You usually didn’t get visitors, especially not at this time of night.
>And DEFINITELY not the kinds that knock on your window.
>You close your sketchpad and put it on your nightstand.
>With more effort than you’d like, you throw yourself off of your bed and head over to your window.
>You pull the curtain to the side and gaze upon your late night visitor.
>A fluffy white mare with a buttery mane waves nervously at you from the other side.
“Butterscotch!?”
>”H-hello, Mr. Anon!”
 
>You scratch your head.
“W-what a wonderful surprise!”
>Butterscotch lets out a happy high-pitched squeak.
>”I h-haven’t seen you in d-days!”
“Yeah, I’ve been… a bit under the weather.”
>You cough loudly, causing Butterscotch to jump backwards slightly.
>After realizing she’s safe outside your home, she buzzes back to you, pressing her hooves against your window.
>Even at your own home she has to have something in between the two of you.
>Not the “Great Easel,” no, but the “Great Window.”
>Whatever makes her feel comfortable.
 
>Butterscotch begins to whisper and squeak under her breathe.
>”…I-I was worried sick….”
>You cough loudly once again.
“Excuse me, sorry…. Bad cough. What were you saying?”
>She responds with frantic squeaks, her cheeks a fiery red.
>”N-n-nothing! Nothing at all!”
>You raise your eyebrow at her.
“Well… would you like to come in?”
>She shakes her head, her antennae bobbing cutely from side to side.
>”I don’t want to impose, Mr. Anon. I-I just wanted to see how you were!”
“Butterscotch, that’s really kind of y-“
>”Oh, and I-I brought you something!”
 
>Butterscotch reaches down and picks up a basket.
>You open your window and receive your gift.
>A sweet aroma fills your bedroom as you take the basket.
“This… this smells amazing! What is it?”
>Butterscotch perches her forehooves on your windowsill.
>”Open it!”
>You sit on the floor and put the basket down.
>You do as she says, gently unwrapping the basket.
>Another happy high-pitched squeak meets your eardrums as you gaze upon a number of colorful mangoes and various sweets.
>The sweet aroma intensifies, filling your bedroom in a wonderful scent.
“Wow, look at that…. Butterscotch, you didn’t have to-“
>”I r-really hope you enjoy them, Mr. Anon!”
>You unwrap a candy and eat it.
“Mmm… butterscotch. What a tasty coincidence.”
>Butterscotch’s wings happily flutter as you open another confectionary.
 
>”I-I’m so happy that you like them!”
>She beams at you as you eat another sweet.
>You’ve never seen her this elated before.
>It’s a bit frightening….
>You begin peeling a mango, wondering why Butterscotch brought you this food.
>Might as well ask….
>What could go wrong?
 
“Hey, Butterscotch.”
>”Yes, Mr. Anon?”
“I really appreciate you bringing me this wonderful food, but… why did you bring it?”
>The flutter of Butterscotch’s wings slow to a stop.
>She gives you a big frown.
>”W-what do you mean?”
“Well… I feel as if you’re somewhat intimidated by me. It’s odd that you-“
>”Intimidated? Ha! I-I am NOT!”
>Butterscotch scrunches her face in mock-disbelief at you.
“Really now?”
>She buzzes and squeaks angrily.
>”I’m not scared of you! T-that’s just silly!”
 
>You feel like testing her bravery.
“Well… if you aren’t scared of me… why don’t you come in and join me?”
>Butterscotch’s face reddens as she continues to scrunch at you.
“I mean, these mangoes look and smell terrific.”
>You give her a sly smile.
>You don’t expect her to take the bait, but you can’t help but enjoy seeing her face scrunched up.
>It’s… cute.
>To your surprise, Butterscotch lifts herself off of the ground and flies into your bedroom.
>She shakes nervously as she gently lands a few feet away from you.
>”Ha! S-see! Who’s scared now?”
>You calmly toss a candy to her, causing it to land a few inches in front of her.
>She jumps backwards, squeaking in fear.
 
>You can’t help but laugh.
>Breathing heavily, Butterscotch angrily glares at you.
>”T-that’s… not… funny… Mr. Anon!”
>She picks up the candy and throws it back at you.
>You coolly catch it and put it back in the basket.
>”Hmph. Well? I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, you are in fact here. You sure showed me.”
>Butterscotch puffs out her chest.
>”That’s right! Well… now what?”
>You motion to the basket.
“Would you like to join me?”
 
>Butterscotch squeaks and shakes her head.
>”I-I… already ate….”
>She blushes and kicks a hoof at the ground.
>That excuse again….
>You sigh and begin to pack up the basket.
>Butterscotch notices your disappointment, and flutters her wings at you.
>”H-how about a tour of your home while I’m here?”
“Uh….”
>”If you’re not feeling well, w-we don’t have to….”
>You scratch your head.
>A tour could be fun, actually.
>Plus, it’d be a nice way for you and Butterscotch to bond.
>You get up from the floor with the basket of treats in hand.
 “You know what? Let’s do it. A tour of my humble abode.”
>Butterscotch beams at you.
“However, please excuse any mess you may see….”
>She slowly trots over to you, shaking slightly.
“Well, lets begin in here.”
>You gesture around your room.
“This, of course, is my bedroom. I sleep in here.”
>”Who would have known…?”
“Basic stuff here; small bed, nightstand, chest of drawers, a desk….”
>Butterscotch nods, all of her attention on you.
“Cool. Got any questions?”
>She shakes her head, her antennae cutely swaying from side to side.
>”Looks pretty standard, Mr. Anon!”
>You give her a weak smile.
“Alright, onward to the living room.”
 
>Butterscotch lets out long, happy squeaks as you lead her into the living room.
>They are pleasantly melodic, quite unlike anything you’ve heard so far.
>The gal was definitely enjoying herself.
“This is….”
>You clear your throat.
“… the living room. The heart and soul of my home.”
>You motion proudly around the living room.
“Standard stuff here, too. Couch, end tables, coffee table, bookshelf….”
>You turn and see Butterscotch staring at said bookshelf.
>She carefully runs a hoof along all of the books.
>”What are all of these books about, Anon?”
>You slowly walk over to her.
“These are sketchbooks I’ve filled throughout my journey of Equestria.”
 
>Butterscotch’s eyes widen.
>”You traveled all over Equestria!?”       
>You nod.
“When I first arrived in this world, I was overwhelmed by everything that I saw. It was similar to my own world in a few ways, but the number of differences was staggering.”
>Butterscotch stares at you, listening intently.
“It was worrisome at first, you know? Not being on my own world anymore. But I learned to adapt quickly.”
>Butterscotch nods, urging you to continue.
“I didn’t want to sit still in one place, either. So… I made the decision to travel the entire land, or as much of it as was feasible. As a way to learn everything about this world, I documented what I discovered with my art.”
 
>You reach over and pull out one of many black books.
“All of these sketchbooks have drawing and notes on what I found.”
>You flip to a random page and show it Butterscotch.
“See? This one has drawings of the landscape of Dust Valley, as well as all of the local vegetation and… residents.”
>You watch as Butterscotch flips through the Dust Valley sketchbook.
>”This is remarkable. So all of these books are just like it?”
>You nod.
 
>”Incredible. I’ve never EVER been outside of Dust Valley. In fact, most moth ponies here haven’t.”
“Really?”
>”Yeah…. We’ve always been somewhat reclusive. Then again you already know that, huh, Mr. Anon?”
>You nod, reaching over and pulling out a few more books.
“Saddle Arabia, Tenochtitlan Basin, Hollow Shades… yeah, I’ve journeyed to many places in Equestria.”
>”W-wow….”
“Never for more than a few weeks at a time, though. While I was a welcome visitor to most places, I knew when it was time to leave.”
>Butterscotch turns to you with a worried look on her face and her bottom lip trembling.
>”D-does that mean… you’ll leave here as well?”
 
>You think for a moment before shrugging.
“I can’t say for certain.”
>You see Butterscotch fidget slightly.
>”If you aren’t leaving… th-then why have you stayed in Dust Valley for so long?”
>You start to reshelf your sketchbooks.
“I’m… not sure.”
>She lets out a low, worried squeak.
>”O-oh….”
>You turn and give Butterscotch a friendly smile.
“What I CAN say is that I’ve enjoyed my time here in Dust Valley the most.”
 
>Butterscotch’s worried look slowly turns into one of contentment.
>”I’m so glad to hear that, Mr. Anon.”
>You continue to reshelf books as Butterscotch flips open the Hollow Shades book.
>”Bat… ponies?”
>You nod as she gazes upon your sketches in pure amazement.
“They weren’t too unlike the moth ponies here. They were friendly, nocturnal, and a bit… loud.”
>Butterscotch hands you the sketchbook back, scrunching her face at you.
>”I-I’m not loud!”
“I never said YOU were loud.”
>”Well, g-good! Because I’m not!”
>You stick your tongue out at her.
>She sticks her own tongue out at you.
>Long, blue, and proboscis-like, it catches you off guard.
>Startled, you jump backwards a bit.
>Butterscotch laughs at your slight cowardice.
>”What’s the matter, Mr. Anon?”
>You shake your head, clutching your chest.
“I forgot… you moth ponies…. had tongues like that. Whew….”
>Butterscotch gives you the Hollow Shades sketchbook back, giggling quietly.
 
>You groan, a bit embarrassed to have been so startled in front of Butterscotch.
>She seems to notice, and gives you a friendly wave.
>”Shall we continue our tour?”
>You nod.
“Good idea. Though there isn’t much left.”
>You lead Butterscotch into the middle of the living room.
“Kitchen is over there, and bathroom is right behind us.”
>You motion around.
“And… yeah.”
>Butterscotch gives you a confused look.
>”Is that really all?”
“Yup, I think that’ll do it. Simple little place. Nothing too crazy.”
>”Oh, alright… mind if I look around?”
“Please! Be my guest.”
 
>Butterscotch’s wings flutter as she trots around your home.
>You sit down on your couch, kicking your legs up and relaxing.
>”You live really similarly to us moth ponies….”
“We really are quite alike. That ‘s the first thing I noticed when I arrived here.”
>”Mhmm.”
“You moth ponies and every other creatures I’ve met. In fact, everything I’ve ever encountered has been sentient to a degree. The different species of ponies being the most intelligent.”
>Butterscotch scans the entire room, rubbing her chin.
>”W-wait a minute… where is your mess? You said ‘excuse any mess you see.’ I see no mess here.”
>You bend over and pick up a napkin from underneath your coffee table.
“Here we go. And now my house is clean.”
 
>”You’re such a jokester, Mr. Anon.”
>You lay back a bit and close your eyes.
>You were glad Butterscotch came to visit you.
>It’s made you feel much better.
>Butterscotch quietly clears her throat.
>”H-how are you feeling?”
“Great. Really great.”
>Butterscotch lets out a series of happy melodic squeaks.
>Gentle and resonant, her happy squeaks were becoming more pleasant to listen to.
>You sigh as you listen to the pleasant sounds.
>Unfortunately, they only last a few moments.
>Probably because Butterscotch realized you weren’t responding to her.
 
>”Those butterscotches you ate help with sickness. One of my friends makes them.”
“No kidding?”
>She nods.
>”I ask that he make them extra yummy for you… so you could feel better.”
“Your friend definitely knows what he’s doing. These butterscotches have made me feel so much better.”
>You yawn loudly.
“And… tired….”
>You suppress another yawn as Butterscotch trots over to you.
 
>”Sounds like your ready to fall asleep, huh?”
>You nod.
“Yeah, these candies made me really tired. I may have had too many….”
>Butterscotch offers to help you to your bed, but you politely decline.
“I’ll be okay. Let me walk you out, and I’ll head off to sleep.”
>Butterscotch nods as you get up from the couch, giving you a warm smile.
“So, front door or window?”
>”Which w-would you prefer?”
>You laugh.
“I was partly kidding. The front door, of course.”
>”Still such a jokester, Mr. Anon.”
>You lead her to the front door and open it for her.
“Thanks again for the candy and fruit. Really.”
>She kicks at the ground gently.
>Butterscotch beams at you.
>”Don’t thank me. I’m just happy you aren’t m-mad at me or….”
>She squeaks nervously, her cheeks reddening.
>You open your mouth to respond, but Butterscotch turns to walk away.
>”…”
“…”
>”T-take care, Mr. Anon.”
“You do the same, Butterscotch.”
 
>You slowly close the door with a heavy sigh of relief.
>That went well!
>You can’t give too much thought to it now, as you are deathly tired.
>Off to bed you go, Anon-
 
*knock knock knock knock knock*
 
>… nevermind.
>You open your door.
>A familiar fluffy white moth pony stands in your doorway.
>”…”
“Butterscotch? Back so soon?”
>”…”
“Is everything okay? Did you forget-“
>”…”
“Buttersc-“
 
>Butterscotch trots up to you and wraps a forehoof around you.
>You freeze in place, unsure of what to do next.
>She holds you tight, her warmth bringing a feeling you haven’t felt in a while.
>You hesitate for a moment, Butterscotch gently nuzzling her head into your chest.
>You slowly put an arm around her, your fingers burying themselves into her plush fur.
>Not once did you ever expect this to be a reality.
>Your heart is racing.
>This can’t be real.
>No more medicinal candy for you.
 
>Eventually Butterscotch lets go of you, her face redder than you’ve ever seen.
>You try and look into her eyes, but she avoids your own.
>She trembles slightly, nervously kicking a hoof at the ground.
>You cough.
>”…”
“…”
>”…”
“…”
 
>”I’m… g-glad you’re okay….”
 
>Once again, she turns and trots away before you can respond.
>You watch as she disappears into the distance, still unsure as to what really just happened.
 
>You slowly shut your door with a smirk on your face.
 
~
 
END of Part 3