A slight forenote: You may or may not notice that I posted this story, removed it and then reposted it again; I derped the story and couldn't be bothered fixing it. Sorry!

Blue Bolt was cold. One of only 3 weather-trained ponies in the tiny northern town of Cropton, he often found himself "volunteered" for clearing the more dangerous storms that other ponies were scared to tackle. He didn't want to do this one. It was late, and it was cold and it was a blizzard and no decent pony should have to go out in a blizzard. Of course, life couldn't be that simple. The only reason for a town to exist this far north was the borealis, and they quite simply needed a clear sky to be seen. Nopony wants to spend a fortune in bits on the equipment needed to get up here in the first place only to enjoy the delightful view of a solid white snow cloud for a week. And this WAS his special talent, after all. A bright yellow lightning bolt cutting through a cloud on his navy-coloured flank were proof enough that he could handle himself in any weather.

He sighed. At least he wasn't completely alone. Looking back, he squinted and tried to see his cabin through the blizzard. No luck; he didn't expect to, it was a whole ten minutes flight away. He waved anyway, knowing that Shimmering Sparkle, his wife, was watching his progress through the window, as she always did maybe she would sense it. Shimmering Sparkle. The name became more and more magical every time he thought of it. She'd been pregnant for a long time, and should be popping their first child out any week now, something he was very much looking forward to. Turning back towards the cloud he had been tasked to split up, he began to laugh.
"This is the best part about doing solo missions, Blue Bolt!" He said to nopony in particular. "Oh really, why is that, Blue Bolt?" he replied in a silly voice. "Well, it's quite simple," he explained, as if to a child. "When you're doing a solo mission, you can talk to yourself and do stupid manoeuvres that are against the rules!" and with that said and done, he blasted off to do what he did best.

Even as he was approaching the eye of the storm, he was formulating a plan in his mind. Reaching the hole in the centre of the clouds, he began to skirt around the edges anti-clockwise, picking up speed and causing the cloud around him to begin flowing with him. Pushing himself faster and faster, he cocked up his right wing slightly and began to slowly rise, still flying in circles so fast that any observer would simply note a solid wall of colour. Behind him, the clouds began to follow, giving the curious impression that a tornado had gotten confused and started to rise up instead of down.

Blue grinned. This was his best trick. He broke out of his circle, pumping his wings as hard as he could, and went higher. Behind him, the tornado he had manufactured did exactly the same thing. Much of the cloud was engulfed in this spinning tunnel now, eagerly following the self-proclaimed "weather master of the north" as he headed straight up, easily outstripping the cloud's speed.

Soon, Blue sensed that he could go no further. Long after any other pegasus would have swerved back down out of fear of exhaustion and death, he threw his wings out to their full span to slow his progress down. This was the crucial time, and any mistake here could cost him the trick. He began to spin around in a tight roll, faster and faster. Far below him, the tube began to collapse back into itself, forming a pyramid shape. Blue pulled out of his spin, using the momentum to slingshot down to meet the cloud much faster than he could have propelled himself otherwise. The two forces collided, and for a moment they were locked in a struggle for dominance. The cloud lost. It exploded into a million pieces.

Blue Bolt grinned and pulled up, pleased with himself. Small pieces of cloud hovered about the air with him, pulsing in a light blue, the same colour as his mane and tail. These tiny glowing pieces of cloud, each no bigger than a snowflake, would soon settle all over the snow for miles and miles around, a wondrous sight to see. His so-called 'SparkleBolt' trick always wowed the tourists, but he refused to do it when prompted by ponies who merely wanted to gawp at pretty lights; it was meant for one pony and one pony only. It was with that pony in mind he turned around and flew towards his little cabin in the snow.

He landed a little early and trotted the last few metres to his door. He noticed with some trepidation that Shimmering Sparkle wasn't looking out of the window for him after all, but that might just be on account of her condition. Being 9 months pregnant can't be easy.

"I'm home!" he yelled, stepping across the border and stamping the snow off his hooves.

He trotted into the main room of his cabin. It wasn't big, but it was home, and much more luxurious than his wage could have bought elsewhere. The noise, or rather lack-of, made him focus, suspicious. It wasn't normal to hear nothing at all. He walked cautiously into the kitchen.

"Shimmer?" he said quietly. "Did you see the-"

The sight of his wife stopped him short. She was covered in blood, curled up on the floor, snuggling up to the pastel blue newborn that was snoozing quietly next to her, gurgling in her sleep. She turned her indigo-coloured eyes to her husband, and gave him a hazy grin.

"You took your time, didn't you?"

And with that, she passed out.