Even for a seasoned mailpony, the day's deliveries took exceedingly long to complete. It seemed that every time she returned to the post office, there was a fresh pile of boxes for her to deliver, despite her speed and often-awarded skill at delivery. Even her fellow mailponies were too busy to chat during their routes, racing in and out of the small building in multicolored blurs. It seemed everypony was bustling around twice as quickly as usual, and Bright was momentarily afraid she might be unseated from her current position as "Mailpony of the Month."
"Stamp."
The tall mailmare glanced up from her clipboard, glancing around the small room with a frown. Where was Bright Eyes? That was definitely her voice, but she couldn't seem to locate her.
"Stamp."
Stamp glanced up, above her, where Bright Eyes floated upside-down, her misaligned eyes mere inches from Stamp's face. Lucky for Stamp, she was used to Bright Eyes' quirks. Hell, the kid slid in down the chimney every morning, standing on the ceiling was comparatively normal.
"Yes, Bright Eyes? You need something else to deliver? I could give you some of Twister's deliveries, if you're already done with that pile I got you." She said briskly, eyes returning the clipboard, idly checking off a few more names as ponies disappeared with packages.
"No. I was wondering - why is everything so busy today? We have more deliveries than usual."
"That's because - pffthb, gack-" Stamp whuffed, twisting her head away sharply when she got a mouthful of Bright's mane, "that's because tonight's the Winter Wishes Festival. Everyone's gotta get their presents delivered on time."
"Tonight?" Bright Eyes asked, her eyes widening, looking upon Stamp (and the desk across the room) with panic. "But - it's tomorrow!"
"Nope. So if you -" but Stamp was cut off as Bright Eyes took off in a flurry that ruffled Stamp's mane, disappearing out the large window that all of the mailponies used when they were making their deliveries. The next few hours went by in a similar blur; all across the town, packages were delivered by any means necessary, if they didn't answer their doors quickly enough. Luckily, none of the presents shoved down chimneys got burnt, and even the package that somehow got wedged in through a doggy door came through it all right.
But despite her speed, Bright Eyes still arrived home as the sun was beginning to set, the streets nearly empty and the windows lit. Even the Cakes' bakery was closed, its sugary delights shrouded in darkness as Bright Eyes flew past it. Many of the Winter Wishes trees were already lit up and decorated in their yards; by comparison, the scrawny shrub that stood in the center of her garden looked even smaller and sicker. As she passed, Bright Eyes tugged the glowing stone from her mailbag, gently settling it beside the baby tree before she continued into the house.
"Bright! You ready to make some ornaments for our tree?" Honey Muffin called from where she lay in front of the fire, soaking up the heat. After her night in the Everfree, she was not leaving her only source of warmth so readily. Bright Eyes abandoned her satchel as she settled down beside her roommate, looking over the pine cones and glitter thoughtfully as Honey Muffin pushed them towards her.
"I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you put the tree in the garden." Bright Eyes murmured a few minutes later, her hooves already covered in copious amounts of both glitter and glue. "Work was really busy today."
"I bet, I saw mailponies flying everywhere today." Honey Muffin answered peaceably, smiling as she watched Bright Eyes work. "It wasn't too hard. I was thinking - we could change the garden if you want, so it looks more like your garden back home?"
Bright Eyes glanced up at this, meeting Honey Muffin's shy, uncertain glance, and smiled. "I'd like that a lot. Thanks, Honey."
"No problem." Honey Muffin murmured, looking down at her array of glittery pine cones for a moment before she chanced a glance back up at Bright Eyes. She watched her work for a moment in silence before speaking again, hesitant to break her deep concentration for something so trivial. "So. Um. I know - I know you said your mom called you Bug, but - how did Bright Eyes come about? Your name, I mean."
"Celestia."
"Celestia named you?" Honey Muffin gasped, leaning closer to her, despite how close they were already.
"Nope, Mom named me. Named me Bubbles. She didn't believe in naming before your symbol showed up, so while I was little, I was just Bug. Then she gave me my grown-up name to go with my grown-up symbol." She beamed proudly at the memory, her wings fanning out at her sides. One bumped gently against Honey's side, but she barely noticed, and Honey didn't mind any. "But when Celestia came and found me, I was so scared, I couldn't say anything. She thought I must be an orphan, so she gave a new name and moved me into my new home, closer to the town." She nodded to herself at the memory, folding her wings back against her sides.
"I never knew that." Honey Muffin murmured, blinking back at Bright Eyes before finally giving up and snuggling against her side. She was only a few inches away anyway, why bother? "Would you prefer if I called you something else?"
Bright Eyes considered it for a few moments, and finished glittering her pine cone before she finally answered. "I wouldn't mind it any. It's been a long time since anyone called me Bubbles. Even longer since they called me Bug." She glanced back at Honey Muffin, some of her friend's shy nervousness reflected in her wall-eyed gaze.
"Okay - Bugbles." Honey Muffin murmured, mashing the names together in her nervousness. She stared at Bright Eyes in horror for a split-second before the pair broke into laughter, nudging and butting at one another playfully.
The moon shone above them brightly as they finally trekked into the darkened garden to decorate their Winter Wishes tree, spangling its branches with a hodgepodge assortment of glittery pine cones, candles, glittered envelopes, and spoons. "Spoons are lucky." Bright Eyes/Bubbles had insisted, and Honey Muffin hadn't protested. As they finished up, other families emerged from their well-lit houses, glancing up and down the street as an excited murmur began to grow in the chilly air.
"What are they doing?" Bright Eyes asked, glancing up and down the street as well before looking to Honey Muffin.
"They're waiting for the flora mages. They'll come and magic the trees to be all grown up, and then everyone finds out what kind they got." Honey Muffin explained, giving the last candle on the tree a little nudge, so that it balanced just so on its branch. "And then everyone goes inside and eats their Winter Wishes cake. Some people eat it tomorrow, but when I grew up, we always ate the cake right before bed."
"Oh." Bright Eyes said simply, then glanced down at her hooves, giving the snow around them a little nudge. "But we don't have any cake. The bakery was closed when I flew by."
"Well, we could always buy some cake tomorrow." Honey Muffin answered comfortingly, then glanced up at the moon, silent for a moment. "Or we could eat the cake I got for us while you were working."
"You got us a Winter Wishes cake?" Bright Eyes looked first at Honey Muffin, then back at their house, as if she expected to see it hiding there just inside the doorway.
"I couldn't let you have your first Festival without cake! But they sold out of the littler ones, so I had to buy the biggest one they had." Honey Muffin grinned, watching as Bright Eyes fairly danced from hoof to hoof, wings spreading and flapping a little in her excitement. "So I hope you really like ca- whoop!"
Bright Eyes seized Honey Muffin's tail and dragged her back inside, kicking the door shut before dragging her back to the kitchen.
Although they ate themselves sick on cake, and then even had enough left to eat themselves sick the next morning, they managed to drag themselves to the front window to look at their tree. During the night, it had been sped-grown into a magnificent starfruit tree - "the only one on the block," Honey Muffin noted proudly, before Bright Eyes distracted her with a tail-tug and a sticky-sweet nuzzle.
Once they were less distracted, they both agreed: this was most definitely, without a doubt, the very best Winter Wishes Festival ever.