Shalt thou count to Seven. No more. No less. Seven shalt be the number thou shalt count, and the number of the counting shall be Seven. Eight shalt thou not count, neither count thou Six, excepting that thou then proceed to Seven. Nine is right out. Once at the number Seven, being the seventh number to be reached, then, the Holy Cutie Mark is right.
Time for something completely different. “Now, about your Cutie Mark. Lots of curiosity about that.”
“Mmmm. I can see that,” she said in a matter of fact manner. “Every pony it seems has all told some ridiculous story about it. I’ve heard about blowing bubbles, playing with bubble wrap, all sorts of silly things.”
“We have, too.” The list was long and imaginative, and only a few were frankly obscene. “Want to set the record straight?” he asked with a smile.
She went along with it, trying to be helpful. “It’s simple. I swim. A lot.”
“Swimming?” Slug Line asked, surprised. That one was NOT on the list.
“Sure. I started when I was very young. I found out swimming was a LOT like flying. In fact, I could swim really fast by just using my wingtips, and I could turn, surface, and dive just like some fish. After I figured out how to hold my breath for a long time, I could just swim and swim and swim…and it helps my flying, too, because it keeps my wings very strong, and I can control my breathing just so. Then one day, ‘POOF’ there were bubbles back there!”
“Do you still swim?” Slug Line asked, intrigued in spite of himself.
“Every chance I get, but not as much as I’d like,” Derpy said. “I have a family nowadays.”