The series finale of ponies made me want to write fanfiction.
“Dear Princess Celestia,
Very little good news to report. After liquidating the 3rd Changeling Cavalry group, myself and the Element party have managed to reinforce a hoofhold in Ponyville. From here we hope to increase our numbers, resupply, dig in for the winter, and then march for Manehattan. Our partisan groups have denied the use of Cloudsdale’s resources to the enemy.
It will be a harsh winter.”
Twilight Sparkle turned to Spike, and it struck her only now how he had grown. From being the brash, confident, but most of all, naive child he had been. She pushed the scroll towards him, her expression determined, despite the look of confusion on his face.
“Uh, Twi… I don’t know if she’ll get this one either.”
He had been just a baby dragon then, and although he remained diminuitive, the flight from Canterlot on Shining Armour’s wedding day had forced him to grow. He knew, of course, that Twilight Sparkle knew what he meant, and he also knew that she was either undaunted in her trust of the Princess, or, more sadly, unable to accept the possibility of her… Liquidation.
“Send it anyway, Spike. Send it anyway. The Princess will want to know this, wherever she is.”
Spike obliged, sending a puff of green flame from his mouth, grasping the scroll, dwindling it to nought.
“Was it true what you said, Twilight? Cloudsdale really has been destroyed?”
“Yes, Spike. It was the only way.”
It would indeed be a harsh winter.
Rainbow Dash streaked across the sky, her good eye scanning for any sign of the hated Changeling menace in the deserted streets below. Ponyville had changed, aside from the bomb craters and burned down husks of buildings, aside from the wreckage that had once been Sweet Apple Acres, aside even from the large grave mound erected on the outskirts to house the remains of the fallen. The Cakes had fought to the last, Applejack having to buck their dried out husks of bodies out of the way to reach Bunt and Carrot, miraculously saved from death, but showing signs already of the deeper wounds.
“Cutie Mark Crusaders, HO!” Scootaloo finally felt at home, wrangling the youngest survivors - no older than she had been when the whole sorry mess had started - into the last ditch defence Ponyville would have. She had seen the blankest flanks of her generation cut down, seen Sweetie Belle consumed first by deprivation, and finally by a Changeling, assuming the form of her most loved one. Scootaloo had been unable to look away in the split-second where the Changeling strobed wildly between her own likeness and Applebloom’s. Scootaloo had finally gained her cutie mark, the twin swords of Vengeance.