It was an unparticular day at the Cloudsdale flight school and Wingcleft, the head instructor, was feeling more agitated than usual. The elder pegasus had been teaching the summer program at the flight school for moons, an occupation Wingcleft would admit wasn’t glamorous yet entirely satisfactory, yet the previous week, one unidentified foal had set off a prank that had tested his patience to its very limits. But now, Wingcleft was certain he had discovered the culprit.
He had narrowed the suspects down to two particular foals. Bringing them to his office, Wingcleft examined the suspects closely.
Both pegasi, of course, and both blue as well, though they had varying shades. Wingcleft hmphed, running a hoof through his faded blue mane, staring down the two foals. One a filly, orange mane, magenta eyes, very rough-looking manestyle. The other a colt, dully yellow eyes, small mohawk manestyle, and most noticeably, a rainbow colored mane.
On the left, the little pegasus filly’s eyes darted to the Wingcleft’s memorabilia hanging on the cloudy walls, to Wingcleft, she was obviously avoiding eye contact. On the right, the pegasus colt was playing coy about the whole matter, giving Wingcleft an innocent look.
“I’ll make this straight,” the instructor began, “One of you is in trouble. And don’t you play dumb, you know what you did! However, one of you is innocent, and you’ll be allowed to leave, if the culprit for the prank admits to it.”
The colt spoke up first, “Sorry sir, but I think you have the wrong pony, it wasn’t either one of us.”
“Yeah,” The filly added, “We’re innocent! You can’t just accuse us of stuff!!”
“Oh can’t I?” stated Wingcleft with a chuckle, “You see, this old wonderbolt has vision like a hawk, and I spied you two prancing into the commissary ten minutes before the prank! See, it turns out it isn’t one of you in trouble, it’s both of you!” He slapped his desk as emphasis of his accusation.
Both foals gave the elder pegasus confused looks after they exchanged glances.
“Her?” the colt yelled adamantly, “Why would I work with a filly?”
“Him?” followed the filly, “I work alone!” she paused, “I mean, if I even did it in the first place…”
Wingcleft ignored the yearlings’ defenses, instead pulling out a file from his desk, “You two know what you did, and I’m sure you also know the punishment for your heinous action.”
He could hear from the foal’s hushed gasps that they knew, “Yes, the perpetrator shall be sent home early.” He paused to pull out the list of names, “So, what do you have to say for yourselves?”
“But we didn’t do it!” The colt repeated, “I mean, we didn’t both do it…”
“Um, what he said,” affirmed the filly, “I didn’t have any help from him.”
“Aha!” Wingcleft shouted triumphantly, “So you admit you did do it!”
The colt shrugged, “Eh… It was mostly me.”
The filly shook her head, “Nuh-uh, it was my idea!”
“It was mine first!”
“Hmph…” Wingcleft rested a hoof under his chin, “So you’re implying you both came up with the exact same idea and both executed it at the exact same time?”
With much reluctance, both foals nodded.
Wingcleft sighed, “I’m not going to say I believe you, but regardless, the rules of this school are set, and you’ll both have to be sent home early.” A look of pity crossed his face as he looked upon the saddened expressions of the foals, “Look, I’ll let you have the rest of the day to yourselves, your parents will come to get you tomorrow morning.”
He waved a wing, signaling the foals to take their leave. And they did so, slowly trotting out of Wingcleft’s office.
The foals made their way out of the building, plopping their rears on the cloudy steps outside. They both looked up into the air, watching as the other pegasus yearlings practiced their flying in the clear, blue sky.
The two watched in silence for a good minute until the filly was the first to acknowledge the other. She turned a pensive eye to the colt, “I guess we really did bite off more than we chew huh?”
The colt looked over, “Yeah, I guess so,” his melancholy mouth turned up, “But you gotta admit it was worth it right? Just to see Ms. Pundit get her mane dyed hot pink… twice!”
The filly giggled, reminiscing on their successful dual prank on the pegasus instructor. Her expression was priceless. “Yeah, it was worth it!” She paused, “Say, how did you come up with the same idea as me?”
“Well… in the art room I saw that this place just happened to have the right stuff for a rainbow bomb and…” He spread his wings, making an explosion sound with his mouth.
The filly smirked, “That's the same thing I did! I guess great minds really do think alike.”
The colt laughed, stopping to lean back on a cloud, “You know, I would suggest we team up for an awesomer prank but I guess we really don’t have the time for that.”
“Sure, but what do we do? We still have the whole day until we have to leave.”
“I don’t know, we could just hang out?”
The filly smiled, “Yeah, we can do that.” She stood up, brushing away the cloud puffs that had gathered around her hooves. “So rainbow-mane,” she turned to the colt, who stood up as well, “What’s your name? We can’t really hang out if I don’t know your name.”
The colt blinked, “Oh, it’s Bow. Bow Hothoof. How ‘bout you?”
“Windy Whistles.”
Bow flapped his wings, “So Windy Whistles, what do you wanna do?”
Windy looked up, shifting her gaze to a series of clouds overhead. She pointed a hoof up, “What about we head to the training course?”
“I’ll race you!” Bow was barely able to shout before shooting off the ground. Windy was quick to follow, the filly furiously flapping her little wings after the colt.
Though neither foal would admit it, they weren’t particularly adept flyers, but right now, it didn’t matter; for now they flew through the air. Like many pegasi, Bow and Windy felt their worries, having to leave the next morning, and the rest of their problems melt away, being left behind as they were able to spread their wings and soar.
Through the training course they flew, laughing as they chased each other, swerving around and through the clouds. The two yearlings played games, hiding in the clouds, making funny shapes, and just talking with one another.
Though their wings eventually grew tired, neither of the foals cared. And as the day drew onward, Bow and Windy continued their uninterrupted frolicking. And though it was only half a day, it felt much longer for the two foals who had grown a close bond with one another in that short time.
Eventually, the day ended.
Sitting together on a cloud above the rest of the school, Bow and Windy watched as the rest of pegasi retreated to their sleeping areas.
They laughed with each other as Windy finished recounting a story of one of her previous pranks at home, on one of her older siblings. As Bow finished, he let out a breath of air, looking forward into the sky. “The day’s over,” he said, “I guess we should head down and pack our stuff.”
“Just a bit longer,” Windy suggested, playfully nudging him with her hoof, “We’re leaving tomorrow, what’s the rush?”
Slowly, the sun began to lower in the sky, a sign that Celestia was changing the day into the night. Bow looked at Windy, watching as the setting sun casted a momentary orange hue on her blue fur.
The orange hue was gone as soon as it arrived, replaced with the purple hue of twilight. Both ponies looked up into the sky, at the dark shape of the mare on the moon, its brilliant glow sticking out amongst the twinkling stars.
“You know,” Bow said fondly, “Maybe it's because we’re always so high up, but you sometimes forget the amazing views we get as pegasi.”
“Yeah,” Windy sighed, “I guess sometimes we should just slow down and spend time with somepony we care about.”
Bow looked over, “Wait… you care about me?”
Windy giggled, “Of course! We’re friends, aren’t we?”
Bow smirked, “I guess we are.” He leaned back in the cloud resting his wings. He continued to look up at the night sky as Windy took the opportunity to lean her head against his shoulder. She couldn’t see the blush that flushed into his face.
Windy rustled her wings, adjusting her position, “So… will we see each other again? I mean, after all this?” She absentmindedly played with a puff of cloud in her hooves as she spoke.
“I don’t know,” Bow admitted, “But I do know I won’t forget you.”
“Me neither.”
Bow Hothoof and Windy Whistles may have had to part with each other in the morning, but for now, they were both perfectly content. Two yearlings, both nestled into the same cloud, looking up into the beautiful endlessness of the night sky.