//------------------------------//
// Chapter Seventeen 
// Story: A Journey Unthought Of 
// by Hustlin Tom 
//------------------------------//

We were caught, the three of us.  Whoever this red pony was, he had to have heard the warnings that had been spread about the ‘creature with hostile intent toward ponies’, and the alarm would be sounded.  He looked at Applejack, then to Lyra, then to me.  He didn’t move a single inch.  The longer he stood there, the more details I noticed of him: he had a Cutie Mark that appeared to be an apple cut down the middle, he was wearing a yoke around his midsection, and he had a stalk of tall grass in his mouth, and his eyes.  Anyone looking just in passing could assume this pony was just like any other country pony, but his eyes communicated to me that he was by no means unintelligent, and that his long stares didn’t mean his mind was empty, but was soaking up every detail and considering it.  

“Big Macintosh!  H-how’ve yah been?”  Applejack stammered out.  She was looking back from me to her older brother.  She didn’t seem to know what his reaction would be either.  Lyra just stared with wide eyes at Big Macintosh, and for that matter, so did I.  He looked at us all in turn again.  He let out a soft sigh, and slowly walked over next to Applejack, and sat down.  

“Whater ya doin’?”  

“Break.”  

A slight breeze rose up, and tousled my companion’s manes and my hair.  Bic Macintosh began to speak again.  

“Where yah from?”  

No point in trying to hide it I guess; and besides, he didn’t seem afraid or aggressive.  

“A planet called Earth.”  

“Planet, huh?”  

“That’s right.”  He looked out over the apple orchards his family had owned for years; many decades in fact, as he remain silent, I assume stoically thinking about me.  

“Yah ain’t here to hurt nopony?”  

“No sir.”  

“Hmph.  Alright.”  No one at all spoke, though the girls seemed to be staying out of the conversation for the moment anyway.  

“I’ve been talking with Applejack, and you all sound like good honest, er, ponies.”  

“Eeyup.”  Another pause.  

“I don’t suppose you’re going to turn me in, are you?”  

“Nope.”  

“Not that I don’t mind, but why wouldn’t you?”  

He looked over at me, and stated matter-of-factly “If you’er athreatenin’ anypony, Applejack woulda already tanned yer hide.”  

Lyra, Applejack, and I chuckled pretty good over that one, and Big Macintosh just gave a good natured smile.  

“Oh, Big Brother knows me all too well!” Applejack said through a jovial snort.

I looked over to Big Macintosh.  “You seem to be a good guy, Big Mac.”  

“Eeyup.”   

We kept talking for a while longer; the hours drifting by just as easily as a river’s flow.  The sun started to dip into the horizon, casting a golden orange over the many miles of Sweet Apple Acres.  Lyra and I said goodbye to our two newest friends, and we made for the cottage. 

Several more days past, and the time for the Grand Galloping Gala arrived.  Lyra had to go, and Bon Bon was going as well.  So, since there really was no one to take care of me, I tagged along.  Bon Bon was, of course, apprehensive.  More than likely it was rightfully so; going to Canterlot, the heart of Pony culture, commerce, and power was probably not the best idea, but I wanted to get out more.  I needed to explore some; I couldn’t get enough of my new surroundings.  I might even call this place..home.