Zephyr Breeze half heartedly pulled open the envelope he had taken from the mailbox as he closed the front door of the apartment behind him. He pulled the note free and immediately noticed the headline. “URGENT” it said. And the letter had been addressed from the school house.
 
“Uh oh.” Zephyr muttered. Why did this have to be on the top of the mail pile when he got home? And why, no matter how exhausted he felt, did he feel the burning compelling need to read it?
 
“Uuuuhhhg…” He looked up from the letter. “Let me get some coffee first.” Zephyr uttered allowed to the empty apartment. Twenty minutes later, after coffee, and coming to the dimly worrying realization that Tree Hugger and Icarus weren’t home, Zephyr finally resigned himself to sitting down with the letter. The first thing he noticed was that it wasn’t typed. It was a hoof written note from her teacher.
 
Dear Zephyr Breeze,
 
It has come to pass that I must, unfortunately, once again inform you about Icarus’ absence from class-
 
At that moment Zephyr felt an unavoidable sickness uncurl in his stomach like some foul smelling bouquet of poison joke.
 
several days from this week and last week alone, I feel compelled to talk to you in person about the this-
 
Icarus had a test today didn’t she? They’d known about it a week before hand and he dedicated so much time with her at the dining room table. Flash cards, highlighters, practice tests, over and over until he couldn’t take it anymore. By this point he’d probably ace the damn test if Miss Cheerilee slid it in front of him at that very moment. His eyes flitted over the concerned teacher’s words. They were basically penpals now, working out plans to help Icarus maintain her low albeit passing grades.
 
When Zephyr waved Tree Hugger and Icarus good bye before running (because he was late) to work at the Ponyville spa, it was agreed that Icarus would walk to school herself. She insisted on being old enough, and she was. Tree Hugger had no qualms and more than likely Ikky would make a few friends with other fillies and colts who plodded the same trail.
 
While most things seemed fine, Icarus had a bad habit of playing hooky. He would never admit out loud that he expected this. But there was something else he had a hard time admitting even to himself.
 
If it is alright with you, I would like to schedule another meeting between you, Tree Hugger, and myself. It would be best if Icarus were also present so that we can finally discuss…
 
Suddenly there it was, he felt it again. Or more like he could smell it almost as if it were rising off the page to invade his nostrils. Burning poison joke smells really really bad, like a basket of damp cats.
 
Zephyr couldn’t remember how many parties he’d attended with Tree Hugger, off at some commune made up of shacks deep in the woods. Though most of them apparently lived in holes in the ground out in the hills. What were they called? Bushwoolie Burrows? Something like that. Zephyr remembered, or at least he thought he did, being willfully ensnared in that life, talking to invisible breezies draped in dyed burlap robes,dancing in the haze and flirting with the mares who braided adorable flower crowns.
 
At first he didn’t even like it but it was the easiest way for him to duck out of studying, obligations, and trying. At least he dropped his name and occupational pursuits a few times during idle conversation, so he was getting his networking hooves wet well before anyone else from the university. Hah! As if he needed their stupid rules. Days had gone by, maybe weeks before his senses were clear enough to remember he had a life outside of those huts, and that his professor warned him that if he missed another day of his mane therapy classes he would be dropped from the roster.
 
Oh well…that might have been three days, five days, two weeks ago. No sense in worrying now. Life was good in the humble little community foraging and frolicking in the hills. Seriously what did some tight wad professor know about anything?
 
Icarus was only three the first time Tree Hugger took her to the Burrows. Zephyr Breeze chased after them two days later just in time to find Icarus being fawned over and passed around by smelly stallions and those very same flower crown mares. Dazed but happy, she could barely speak to him through all the smoke but she kept murmuring something about talking to the breezies, her eyes unfocused and rimmed red. He took her home without ever finding Tree Hugger, who came back to the apartment near two weeks later. She promised not to take Icarus there again. A lot of good that did.  
Zephyr groaned and slid back into the chair like a huge weight pressed him there, the letter crushed into his palm. He was tired. This could wait until tomorrow couldn’t it?
 

 
Being a parent is hard enough. It’s even worse when nobody wants to be a team player.
 
I’m still on my anthro high. I tried to draw Zephyr Breeze but honestly in hind sight he’s not even scrawny enough. Oh well, maybe next time.