//------------------------------//
// Chapter 7: The Songbird And The Apple 
// Story: When Kindness Met Hatred 
// by Dramapony 
//------------------------------//


Chapter Seven: The Songbird And The Apple


As you may have guessed earlier, my passion is caring for animals. This is something that I purely do out of the kindness of my heart, expecting nothing in return. When I say that we all need to be shown a little kindness, I mean all living creatures of Celestia, big and small. I feel like I am giving them the love that other ponies often neglect to share with them. To them, I am their mother; to me, they are my children. My children, whom I love dearly, unconditionally and forever. I will do anything to help an animal in need. 

Now, being an animal caretaker, my work schedule is often very spastic. I only work whenever an animal comes to me for help or a pony's pet needs tending to. Only about two or three animals a day come to me in need and I always help them to the best of my ability, with the greatest of care. Since I never know what my day will be like, I always leave myself lots of open time, so I will be prepared. I generally find plenty of time to settle down. 

But that one week, after the lunch incident, I felt like I didn't even want to relax. On Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, my days were filled with jumping from one animal chore to the next. Instead of having the animals come to me, I was—most of the time—going to the animals. 

I fixed birds' nests. I cleaned tree holes for chipmunks. I walked dogs. I brushed cats. I fluffed Angel's tail an extra three days. I gave massages to Harry the Bear. I gave flight lessons for baby birds. I bathed bunnies. I cleaned my chicken coop. I probably ended up building around thirty or so bird houses with any spare time I had.

Whether they needed my help or not, I gave it to them. Keeping myself busy felt like the only solution to take my mind off of what was to come. Anything, as long as it would get me to think of something else. 

That Friday afternoon had a golden sunset. A small gathering of seven birds perched themselves upon a small tree branch. Lightly hovering above the ground, I had my hooves raised at the ready. 

"Alright, now follow me, please," I said to them. "One... two... one, two, three." I flicked my hoof in a fluid motion, waving to the tune. My bird choir followed with their high, sweet voices. A fairly simple, but still very lovely melody they sang. Each canary, blue jay, robin, and mockingbird right on key, almost flawless. Except... 

"Oh, dear, stop, please," I ordered, making a cutting motion. "Um, okay, everyone, that sounded very nice, but you were all a bit, uh, choppy. This is a song that needs to be a little more smooth." 

"Maybe that's something I can help with," came my brother's voice. My head spun around to see Mockingbird trotting up the trail to meet me. Naturally, I fluttered down to greet him. 

"Mockingbird, I haven't seen you around for days," I called to the advancing pegasus, as he met me pitching the grass. His mane was a tangled mess, dusted with dirt. Tiny chunks of earth and mud knotted into his fur. Despite his filthy appearance, his face showcased a one million bit smile. An emotional gesture that I didn't see from him for a whole week. 

"Sorry, Fluttershy, but didn't you read my notes?" he asked. 

My eyes widened. "Oh, yes, I did. I'm sorry, I forgot that you were there everyday." 

Mockingbird brushed his hoof through his mane, a cloud of grime rising and evaporating. "It's fine, as long as you weren't freaking out or anything." He turned his focus to the bird choir. "So, this is the bird choir that you told me about?" 

"Oh, yes," I answered. "Don't they sound just wonderful?" 

He nodded. "They do, but I heard you were trying to get them to sound less staccato and more legato." 

"Um, yes. I've actually been working with them on it for a while now." 

He lightly tapped his chin, before turning back to me. "Have you tried getting them to work on tunes with more sustained notes?" 

I shook my head. "No, why do you think I should?" 

Mockingbird started to hover just above me, with an upbeat tone like he was giving a lecture. "You see, sometimes our voices can play tricks on us when we sing. For instance, when we sing tunes with short notes, that randomly jump from one to another, our minds may tell us to sing them disconnected. However, if you work some more with tunes that contain long and full notes that tie together, you will have a much smoother transition with the melody. Which will also help avoid unwanted breaks in the measure." 

I just stood there and blinked at him. I never thought of trying to work with my birds like that. I was so unsure of how much their little lungs could take. 

"Oh, I see," I replied. "So what did you have in mind?"

"Well, since you're working with birds, you might want to work with a tune that's short, single voweled and easy to remember. Maybe something like this." 

He motioned to the birds to listen closely to him; they responded with leaning heads. Mockingbird cleared his throat, took a deep breath and rang his voice like a bell. The tune was short, but very pleasant to hear. Telling by the few breaks he took, I could tell it was something that required a lot of breath support. If I can remember correctly, it went something like this: 


OHH, OHHHH, OH, OH, OH, OH, OH, OH, OOOOOOHHHHH, OOOOOHHHH, OOOOOOHHH, OOOOHHH, OOOOHH, OH, OH, OH, OH, OH, OHHH, OOHH, OOHH, OH, OH, OH, OH, OH, OH, OHHHHH.


So sweet and beautiful he always sounded. he then raised his own hooves like a conductor at a concert, and the birds obediently straightened their backs. Mockingbird then waved his hooves to his tune and the chorus sang, belting exactly like he did and in perfect key. Finally, they sounded so connected and smooth. Like they were all united as one. 

Once they ended, I applauded with stamping hooves and an excited smile. "Oh, that sounded so wonderful! Thank you, Mockingbird, that was amazing!" 

Mockingbird grinned as he floated back down to me. "No problem, Shy. Just remember to practice some more with them on that, and they'll soar." 

The sinking sun produced a bright orange glow. The cool breeze of the approaching twilight brushed through my coat. 

"Uh, that will be all for today, everyone," I called to the birds. "Please go home and make yourselves warm, and we'll see each other next week." They all leapt from the branch and glided to the trees for their respective homes. Mocking and I then made our way back to my home.





Only a thin ray of sun illuminated the sky outside my window. A spicy atmosphere filled my kitchen. The exotic aroma of the quinoa rose from my metal pot, tickling my nostrils. In response, my tongue watered in delight—only to taste the wooden spoon clenched between my teeth. By my side, Angel poured the final touches of tofu into the already sizzling cuisine that was soon to be enjoyed. 

He'll love this, I thought, as my neck rotated in the repeated stirring motion required. After a long week of work, I know he'll enjoy something warm and spicy.

The end of my preparation was signaled by the timer right on my window sill. Angel hushed the nuanced ringing with a light tap on the clock's head. I released the spoon, knowing that I gave the dish just what it needed for perfection. 

On cue, my ears followed the light sound of hooves tapping their way down my stairs. Mockingbird entered through the doorframe. His matted fur soiled the white towel hugging his waist. His soaked mane and tail dangled, like wet vines. His earlier stench of dirt was replaced with the scent of a fresh spring. 

His muzzle picked up the enticing vapor that was the calling of dinner. "Hey, Fluttershy. So, what's on the menu?" 

"Oh, I just made some quinoa," I said as I turned off the stove and removed the pot with my kitchen glove. "I hope that's okay. I thought it might be good after doing what you were doing all week." 

He answered with a highly satisfied smile, "Sounds delightful. Smells delicious, too. Just like all the meals you make." He then started to cross over to the table, but in a different... fashion. He wasn't exactly skipping, but his hooves kind of lifted off the ground lightly like it was some musical tempo. His wings fluttered at a volume more quiet than a whisper. He floated himself into his chair, letting his mane fall back. 

Definitely a change in mood from how I've seen him act over the past week. Feeling so cheery and optimistic, but how? Why? Playing along, I took the pot, flew over to the table and settled it right in the center. 

"Mockingbird, you seem to be in a pretty good mood tonight," I began to inquire. "Did something good happen to you today?" 

He looked back up at me. "All week, actually. I'm assuming you got all my notes?" 

I nodded. "Um, yes, I did. You were always out so early and back so late, I never saw you... oh, I'll be right back." Realizing my mistake, I flew to my cabinet and collected two ceramic plates. I returned to the table and set each down for Mockingbird and myself. 

"Well, it looks like I have a lot to tell you then," he said. 

Dishing out the first of the quinoa onto his plate, I nodded my head to confirm that I was listening.





For Mockingbird, getting up early in the morning was never something that brought excitement. But there must've been a reason why he could have been seen walking all the way across town in the dawn of that Tuesday morning. The colt repeatedly shook his head, causing his own brain to rattle. His groggy state of mind merely put a spell over his eyelids. His brain kept whispering to his ear to just go back home and rest in his nice warm bed. As much as he liked the sound of that, it was an order he denied. 

The teenage pegasus could still remember the note he left before taking his leave. The words he left could still be recited by heart. 

Fluttershy, 

I've been thinking a little about yesterday's lunch, when Big Macintosh offered me the job at his farm. I'll confess, I'm not the biggest fan of getting dirty, or working outdoors. But with everything that's going on, I think I really need some time to clear my head. Anything to think of something else, if you catch my drift. 

You were right to say that this would also be a good chance for me to get out of the house more. And to be honest, what else was I going to do all day? It wasn't like I was really going to have many other options. This was kind of a last minute decision, but if you need me today, you can find me at Sweet Apple Acres. 

Don't wait up for me because I have no idea when I might be coming back. 

-Mockingbird.

The rogue rays of the rising sun flashed in his vision as he arrived at his destination. As Mockingbird made his way up the dirt pathway, leading to the wooden fence, he got a better look at the Apple home. The red and white paint chipped and faded against their forever aging wooden surface. The windmill at the very top of their tower loudly squealed with its twisting push, brought forth by the chilling morning wind. Mother Nature's gentle blow produced a groan and creek from her target house. It was loud enough to be heard for a quarter of a mile outside. 

Around the orchard, the several rows of trees that stood looked deeply hollow. Their bark was a dark brown after three months of being isolated from any warmth. The only things missing were the bright red apples, ornamenting off the branches. New lives yet to be awoken from winter. 

In the yard, a large crowd of pigs and chickens scattered about their territory, marked off by the chicken wire. Their moments of running through the mud to their breakfasts were accompanied by their calls of delightful squealing and squawking. These were further enhanced upon noticing the pegasus just opening the barn gate. They were eventually silenced with the hollering command of their master. 

"Whoa, now! Settle down, y'all! What's all this jabberwocky? Y’all are gonna wake all of Ponyville if you keep up that hootenanny!" Applejack trotted out the sty door and into the open. There, she made first contact with the source for their bewilderment. 

"Mockingbird," she greeted with a smile. "What can I do for ya this morning?"

As the stallion opened his mouth to answer, he was interrupted by another voice from within the house. "Mockingbird? Did I just hear that Mockingbird was here?" Big Macintosh came out the front door and up to the scene. He was followed by a small yellow filly, with a red mane and bow. The last one out of the house was an elderly green coated mare, with an apple spotted orange scarf and an apple pie cutie mark. 

The filly came forward with a burst of fresh morning excitement. The type of energetic rush that well rested children often feel on a bright, sunny day. She curiously gazed at the pegasus. 

"Applejack, who's this feller?" she asked. 

"Apple Bloom, this here's Mockingbird," Applejack answered. "He's Fluttershy's brother. I told ya 'bout him, remember?" She returned to the colt. "Mockingbird, this here's my little sister, Apple Bloom." 

Mockingbird looked down and greeted with a gentle smile, "Hello. It's great to meet you." He extended his hoof to the little filly. 

Apple Bloom bumped his hoof with a brightened face. "Oh, so you're the one with the magic voice? Amazing! Maybe I can get my cutie mark in singing, too!" She leapt in an exciting state of thought. 

Applejack glanced at her guest as if to say, Don't encourage her.  

Gently moving her brittle legs, one after the other, the elder mare slowly approached the group. "Wha-What's that? Oh, who’s this young colt?"

"Granny, this is Fluttershy's brother, Mockingbird,” Applejack returned. 

The grandmother leaned her head in closer to the stallion who was still foreign to her. Her eyes squinted, then widened with an approving smile. She extended him her sagging and wrinkled hoof. "Well, hello there, Son. Very nice to acquaint with ya. My name's Granny Smith." 

Mockingbird smiled back and gently shook the awaiting hoof, her skin feeling very warm, but moist. "Very nice to meet you, Granny Smith. I hope I wasn't intruding on your land, or anything." 

"Actually, we've kind of been waiting for you," Big Macintosh interrupted. The corners of his mouth started to flinch upwards and fall back down in a repeating motion. Almost like he was trying to hold back a certain excitement. 

Mockingbird scrunched his eyebrows. "Really? I don't think I gave an official yes or no yesterday." 

"Big Mac told us that you might be coming over," Applejack said. "But we're very glad that ya came. We're going to need a lot of help to get the season started." 

Mockingbird pawed the soil, his two upper teeth biting down on his lower lip before confessing, "I should probably let you know that I might not be so good at yard work. I mean, I haven't been down to earth so often."  

Big Macintosh, however, dismissed his claim, shaking his head. "You won't have to worry much about it. We'll be doing most of the work, you'll be our helping hoof." 

Mockingbird nodded in understanding. 

Applejack cleared her throat. "Right, we especially need ya for today. We're gonna be re-plowing our fields to re-fertilize our crop soil. Apple Bloom has school in just a few hours, so we only have her for a little while.

"And that's just the beginning!" Apple Bloom cheered. "The garden needs weeding, the chicken coop needs cleaning, the pigs need bathing, and so much more!" Mockingbird cocked his head at her enthusiasm. That was probably the very first time he has ever seen a child get that excited to do both house and field work. 

"That's the spirit, Half-pint!" Granny Smith praised. "She's right. We've got lots to do to awake this farm from hibernation. So no more lollygagging, let's shake a leg!" 

"C'mon, Big Mac, let's get harnessed up," Applejack ordered her brother. 

"Eeyup. I'll meet you down in the field, Mockingbird." As the siblings turned away for the harness shed, Big Macintosh showed a small grin on the corners of his mouth, being sent to Mockingbird. A smile that would usually be given to intimate ones who are near. But to the colt, it only appeared as if he was just glad to have a friend to lend him a hoof for the day.

Granny Smith turned to Mockingbird and Apple Bloom. "All righty, then. You two, follow me." 

"Yes, Granny," Apple Bloom answered. She trotted alongside her grandmother for the rising sun with Mockingbird in tow. 

The three made their way to the edge of the land of dead soil, Applejack and Big Macintosh galloping from behind. A mountain of mulch bags was sitting next to the field, waiting to be poured.  Granny took the first step forward and breathed in the familiar smell of dirt. She then pointed her hoof at two oddly shaped structures in the closest corner, covered in a wet, black tarp. 

"Applejack, Big Mac, you both know what to do." 

They walked over and ripped off the blanketing covers to reveal their tools for the day. The sun reflected off the large iron plows shaped like shark fins. The wooden hooks for the harnesses branched out from the very tops. They looked like they would've required a pony with the strength of a tree to move. 

"Time to get back into shape, eh, big brother?" Applejack thought out loud. 

"Eeyup." 

Once they hooked themselves in, respectively, Granny Smith stepped further, jotting her hoof out into the open. "Okay, now this year, I want the pattern to be absolutely straight. Our goal is to plough forward and back again. If Applejack takes one end and Big Macintosh takes the other, we should have this work done quicker. Apple Bloom, take some mulch and trail behind Applejack; Mockingbird, you trail behind Big Mac. I want to have the field done by sundown. Understand?" 

"Yes, Granny," everypony answered in unison.

"Good. Now, get a move on. I gotta go make sure the pigs are well-fed." Granny turned to her youngest granddaughter. “Apple Bloom, I’ll be back at around eight to check up on y’all and take ya to school.” After the filly nodded, the matriarch started to make her way back to the house. The day's work officially began. 

Once Apple Bloom snagged her first bag, barely being able to heave the weight of the mulch, she immediately started behind Applejack. The elder sister pulled the plow like it was nothing more than a sack of flour. The soil rained in a very light pitter-patter pattern, blanketing the old dirt with the new. In just one minute, the sisters were already half way up the field without looking like they broke a sweat.

As Mockingbird watched in awe at how the girls made a demanding chore look so simple, Big Macintosh took in a very heavy breath, clearing his throat. "Ahem, Mockingbird? Ya ready to follow behind?" 

"Oh, yeah. Let's get started." Mockingbird ran over to the mulch pile, snagged a bag, and ran back behind Big Macintosh, who was already starting out on dragging the plow to the other end. Having a basic understanding of the project, the pegasus began sprinkling the bag's contents onto the ground, starting from the edge of Applejack's dirt trail. He hastily filled Mac's path, trotting as fast as he could to catch up. 

For Big Macintosh, strength was his greatest skill when it came to the farm. For him, a plow carried no weight. Like his sister, he pulled the iron tool like it was an everyday routine for him, without a drip of sweat trailing down his forehead. The only difference was that he looked more believable, due to his size. 

Mockingbird could already start to feel the bag getting progressively lighter when he caught up to his partner, halfway to the end. Looking up from the ground, his eyes unintentionally caught the rear of Macintosh, his toned red flank flexing in and out while his hind hooves pushed deep into the earth.

The air was still cool, but began to feel like a scorching heat wave for Mockingbird. Watching the natural motion in front of him only raised the thermometer. While he didn't want the humiliation of getting caught staring, he couldn't help but keep his eyes glued. Nor could he help the expanding stiffness of his suddenly hard wings. 

The plow came to a halt, right when the bag dumped the last of its dirt. Big Macintosh lifted up his head, wiping his hoof over his eyes. "Ugh, this dirt dust can really be blinding. Mockingbird, go and get another bag for the run up." 

Hearing himself being called to attention, Mockingbird snapped his wings back to position and responded, "Oh, am I out of dirt already?" He surveyed his sack to see that it could now serve as a pillow case. 

"Eeyup, it really goes fast," Big Macintosh confirmed. "Now get a move on. We wanna get done as soon as we can." 

Mockingbird followed the command, trotting back to the mulch. Apple Bloom ran up to his side, almost as if they were in a race. 

"Ya having fun yet, newbie?" she asked with a playful smile. 

"I don't know how this would necessarily be called fun, but I guess it's better than doing nothing in my sister's house all day." 

"You’ll get used to it. The time flies once you get in the routine." 

Mockingbird and Apple Bloom retrieved their respective bags and returned to their partners. Once Big Mac was all straightened out again, the pulling continued. 

Should probably talk with him, just to pass the time, Mockingbird thought to himself. Who knew? He might've come up with something very fascinating to say. "So, Mac, you, uh, come out here often?" 

Still pulling, Big Macintosh raised his head to the question, keeping his eyes focused on the path. "Uh, yeah. Pretty much everyday. What else would you think I do?" 

Mockingbird shrugged. "I dunno, just trying to get a conversation going, I guess." 

Big Mac chortled. "At least you're better at starting conversations than myself." 

"But what about yesterday at lunch, when you asked all the questions?" 

Macintosh shook his head. "There is only so much silence I could handle when surrounded by ponies. Most of the time, I really don't have much to say and other ponies do the talking for me. I guess I just really wanted to get to know ya better." 

Mockingbird tilted his head. "Are you really this silent, Big Mac? You seem to talk a lot when you're around me."

Then, without a signal or command, Big Macintosh slowed his ploughing like an extra hundred pounds was added to the load. His muzzle drifted over to his two little sisters across the way. Hearing their joy and giggle over their special bond seemed to trigger a single tear to run from the corner of his eye. 

"I guess I've just been the quiet type for as long as I can remember," he uttered, his usual monotone sliding down to the lowest possible note. "When Applejack, Apple Bloom and myself were all very little, our parents were killed while harvesting for the season. During a thunderstorm, they both insisted on staying out and bucking the trees until the job was done. But a lightning bolt struck close to 'em on the ground. The folks at the hospital couldn't do anything for 'em." 

The farmer started to take heavy breaths in through his nose, his eyes pooling to the point of overflowing like buckets. "I was so shell shocked, I just didn't know what to say. I have always prayed that ponies would just ask me simple questions that could be replied with either a 'eeyup' or 'nope.' Believe it or not, I used to be talkative; everypony wanted to talk with me. But that incident just took a toll on us all." 

He sniffled before continuing. "Granny stayed the strongest and raised all three of us with the barn. Applejack became so stubborn and always swore to work hard, as a tribute to Ma and Pa. And Apple Bloom... she was just a baby. It was so hard for us to tell her that they would never again come home to see her, hug her, kiss her, tuck her into bed and say goodnight, or love her. 

"It was like my socialization died with 'em. Their death still makes me so preserved every single day. Losing a big part of my family took away so much. Once that happens, nothing will ever be the same, and nothing can ever change that." 

Mockingbird's eyes blurred. It took him a while to realize that he, too, was beginning to softly cry during the story. A family falling apart became something that he was recently too familiar with. Maybe the strong stallion in front of him was right. Maybe once a tragedy tears apart a strong family bond, it could never be the same again—no matter what changes occur. 

"Big Mac, I'm very sorry to hear this," Mockingbird said. "I've had a very similar incident happen to my family." 

Big Macintosh—who was now trying to pick back up on the speed of his chore—took a very deep breath to soothe his uneasy voice. "Oh, is that so?"

Mockingbird nodded. "My grandmother. One spring night, when I was really little, a stray thunder cloud erupted outside her house. A weather team was held responsible for not keeping track of its course. She ended up dying of a heart attack from the close eruption and wasn't able to get help in time. Poor Fluttershy was really upset. She wouldn't stop crying for about a week. I did everything I could to make her feel better, but it was so painful for me, too." 

They reached their next end of the field. Big Macintosh, rustling his hoof through his mane, turned to Mockingbird with a frown. While the loss of relatives is never an easy plight to endure, it can certainly bring others together through a common experience and empathy. "Oh, well, I'm very sorry to hear about that." 

"Don't worry about it. But thank you for your kind words." 

Big Mac put a hoof to his chin. "Mockingbird, I know it's still very early in the day, but would ya like to stay for dinner?" 

Mockingbird scratched behind his ear. "Um, I don't know. I left a note for Fluttershy not to wait up for me, but she is just so protective she might stay up 'till the cows come home." 

"I'm sure Fluttershy wouldn't be too worried if you arrived home a little late tonight," Big Macintosh replied. "Besides, I like you. I think the family has taken a liking to you, as well. It would be no trouble at all having ya as a guest."  

What was the harm in just having a nice dinner? Certainly not much. While Mockingbird looked into Big Mac's glowing emerald eyes, he felt an inner pull that made him want to be close with the stallion. A pull that could have been a sign of a blossoming friendship. For most ponies, saying no to this pull would've meant missing out on a golden opportunity. 

"Okay, Big Macintosh, I'll stay," Mockingbird said. "I appreciate the offer." 

In response, the larger stallion brightly smiled from ear to ear. "Excellent! I look forward to it. Now how about you go and get a refill, so we don't fall behind my sisters?" 

"Okay." Mockingbird ran off to retrieve his third bag. 




"Oh, so that's why you came home late on Tuesday?" I asked. The remains of the quinoa sat at the very bottom of the pot. Our dinner left small puddles of olive oil on the plates. Over the course of his story, the sun has faded and the sky turned completely dark. 

Mockingbird took his napkin and wiped his muzzle. "On Wednesday and Thursday, too. I tell you, they really know how to keep their guests entertained." 

As I rose from my seat and started to collect the plates and silverware, he raised his hoof. "Um, Fluttershy, I noticed that you have been doing all the cooking, cleaning and dishes alone. How about I give you a hoof tonight?" 

I smiled. I didn't even realize that I was doing so much work on my own while he was with me. "Of course, Mockingbird. That is, if you really want to." 

"Well, considering everything you've done for me so far, I only think it's fair if I contribute to cleaning up a meal we shared together." He got out of his chair and took the empty pot and plates over to the sink with me. The faucet dials squeaked, water splashing onto the dishes and draining all the food and grease with soap suds. 

As our hooves got damp in the wash, I decided to ask Mockingbird to continue his story. "So, what happened with dinner on Tuesday?" 

He shook his head. "Can't remember much from that night. But the food was always really good and they always had a lot to share." 

"What kind of things did they talk about?" I asked. 

He replied, "The one dinner that I remember very well was on Wednesday night..." 




The Apple family circled the table of their dining room. A long hard day always came with a reward for their efforts. Wednesday night's menu consisted of bread, mashed potatoes, casserole, and of course, apple sauce. The labored ponies, with fork and knife in each hoof, came close to the speed of shoveling the dinner into their mouths. 

"Ya did good today, Mockingbird," Applejack said to the pegasus two seats down, drops of potato falling through her lips and landing on her chin. "Ya have a really good eye." 

Mockingbird sighed. "All I did was separate the good apples from the bad. A filly could've done that—" 

He looked to the youngest sister, sitting across the way. "No offense, Apple Bloom." 

"None taken," she assured, shaking her head with a smile. 

“Don’t think that what you did was so unimportant,” Big Macintosh interjected next to him. 

Granny Smith lifted her eyes to her grandson. “Oh, Macintosh, you’ve been awfully quiet this evening up 'till now. But you are absolutely right.” Settling her pair of silverware to the side, she glanced at Mockingbird. “Son, even the smallest jobs can either make or break the way our business works, both as farmers and as a family.” 

Mockingbird dabbed his lips clean with his napkin. “I know you want to have your sales be the best quality, but I don’t think I really held the most important job on the orchard today.” 

Applejack placed her mug of cider onto the table, fixating her eyes on the pegasus. “You definitely held one of the most important jobs. One bad apple in a market bunch, and that could mean actual damage to our business and reputation. We do not sell bad apples. Never had and never will. Not one.” 

She talked as if selling one piece of rotten fruit would've been a situation of life and death itself. The mare’s serious tone left Mockingbird at a loss for speech. Had he really offended her that much? His head lowered. “Oh, um, I’m really sorry, Applejack. I wasn’t trying to make fun of you, or anything.” 

“I think she was just thanking you for keeping our reputation today.” The reassuring sound of Big Macintosh’s voice perked the young stallion’s ears with a new positive spark. He turned to Mac to see a comforting smile that showed his mint white teeth. A beam granting love and support, making the younger stallion feel safe. Made him feel valued and belonged. 

After his friend nodded to confirm that he was listening, Big Mac continued, “You see, Mockingbird, I think of jobs on the orchard to be similar to the way I buck a tree or do other heavy work that Applejack can’t handle. Every muscle in my body plays an important role. I have the strength to do all that work, because my muscles work together as a team to give me all the energy I need. If I strain, it’s because a muscle is not working properly. I would end up hurting myself and my whole system would crash like a run away band wagon.” 

Mockingbird tilted his head with squinting eyes. Macintosh continued, “Now, just think of the muscles as jobs on a family orchard. We always need to have a clean barn, gardeners, buckers, plowers, and sorters. These are all parts of a muscle. Remove one of them from the equation, then it all crashes down. How would our apple storage stay sanitary without a clean barn to keep them in? How can our trees and other vegetables grow strong and healthy without the gardeners? How can we tell if we have enough good apples to sell if we don’t have somepony sorting them?” 

Mockingbird stared at his companion in awe. Who knew that Big Macintosh could be so supportive, knowledgeable and wise? He felt a strong shooting of warmth through his veins when Macintosh placed his hoof on his shoulder, giving a surprisingly gentle pat. “We are very glad to have you here. Never think differently about anything.” The pegasus’ face heated, cheeks burning to the intensity of a summer sun. 

“Awe, your face is turning so red,” Apple Bloom noted. “I think my brother loves you like a brother.” She winked and giggled at her own statement.

A knock at the door made the family jump from their seats. Applejack trotted over and answered. Rainbow Dash, sporting a raincoat, stood outside the entrance frame with a bundle of pamphlets. 

“Rainbow Dash? Why you wearing that poncho?” Applejack asked. "It ain't raining."  

Dash sighed. “Correction: not raining yet.” She handed her friend one of the notices. “My weather team is calling for a last minute rainstorm to happen within a few minutes. Just be sure to stay indoors until tomorrow morning, or so.” 

The announcement caused Mockingbird to erupt from his seat. “Rainstorm? I have to get home soon.” 

Rainbow looked over at the unexpected guest. “Mockingbird? What are you doing here?” 

“He’s been working with us,” Applejack said. “Big Mac’s idea. He needed something to do other than stay cooped up in the cottage.” 

Rainbow Dash scratched her mane, trying to comprehend this strange new piece of information. “Oh, uh, okay. But I’m sorry, Mockingbird. You’re not going to be able to fly home in this weather. The first weather storms of the season can be very brutal and dangerous for pegasi to fly in. Even earth ponies and unicorns need to take shelter for this. I’m sorry, I don’t make the rules, I just work for them.” 

Mockingbird lowered his head and sank back into his chair. 

“Hey, don’t feel too down,” Big Macintosh said to him. “How about you stay with us for the night? You can sleep with me in my room and tomorrow morning, we can start the day without having to wait for you.” 

Mockingbird smiled at the offer. “That’s very nice of you, Macintosh, but I don’t want to have Fluttershy worry about me.” 

“Oh, I can take care of her for you,” Rainbow interrupted. “She is actually on my path for notices, so I can just tell her that you’re staying here.” 

“Oh, thanks, Dashie.” He turned back around. “Okay, Big Macintosh, I guess I can stay for tonight.” 

Rainbow Dash faced away towards her exit. “Okay, then, Apples, stay safe.” With that, she zoomed out into the night. 


***


Mockingbird stood with wandering eyes at the center of Big Mac’s room. The living space was really nothing special: only a large cube of deep red walls, a wooden night stand, a desk with a lamp, and a queen size bed. The only source for any outside observation was the double paneled window, where the raindrops violently pelting like falling rocks could be heard. 

The only other thing to give brightness to the rather dull living space was a framed photo on the night stand. Mockingbird took note of this and curiously observed the picture inside. 

Encased was Big Macintosh, except with a much younger feature. He had his straw mane combed back while wearing a green suit jacket with a matching tie. Judging by the tight stretch marks surfacing in the muscle areas, the outfit looked like it was obviously two sizes too small on the stallion. However, he was still able to show a very quiet and humble smile to the camera. 

“Hey, Mac, is this you? You look good!” Mockingbird called out the door and down the hall. 

“What?” Big Mac’s somewhat distant voice replied. 

“This photo on your stand, is this from when you were younger or something?” 

After the sound of a running faucet could be heard, followed by a squeaking silence, Macintosh entered the room and looked at the photograph. “Eeyup, Ponyville High, senior class photo.”  

Mockingbird winked to him. “You look good. Probably could've chosen a better outfit, though.” 

The larger stallion chuckled lightly in response. “Eeyup, that was not the best week for me to do my laundry with a sick Granny.” 

The pegasus laughed, giving a friendly pat on Mac’s arm. “At least you still had a nice face. That’s all that counts.” He started to glance around the room. “So, where do I sleep?” 

Big Mac pulled a layer of sheets off his bed, settling his haunches on the mattress that creaked under his massive weight. “Oh, well you can sleep up here, if you wanna. Sorry, we don’t have a guest room and we’re short on cots. Apple Bloom had to give up her bed when my little cousin, Babs Seed, came to town.” 

“Uh, okay. As long as I don’t bother you in my sleep, I guess this can work.” Mockingbird trotted around the foot of the bed, over to Macintosh’s neighboring side. 

“You won’t have to worry,” Big Macintosh said. “I’m a pretty heavy sleeper; it would take a very big earthquake to wake me up. Just hope you won’t mind the snoring.” 

Getting comfortable into the warmth engulfing mattress and sheets, Mockingbird stretched out his forelegs with a yawn. “I was just about to say the same to you. My poor sister has to listen to my nocturnal whale songs all the way from upstairs.” 

“Okay. Hope this isn’t too awkward for you, but now it’s time to get some shut eye. Bright and early tomorrow, we get back to work.” 

Big Mac reached over for his apple patterned lamp and pulled down on the metal string. A small click cloaked the room in a darkness that was only accompanied by a deep blue hue, filtering through the bombarded window. 

“Goodnight, Mockingbird.” Big Macintosh rested his head into the pillow and softly closed his eyelids. Almost immediately, a deep breathing entering and exiting through his nose could be heard. It’s amazing how quickly a hard day of work can take a stallion off into dream land. 

Looking upon his sleep mate, Mockingbird noticed how serene and calm he looked. Almost as if he could see the peaceful nature of Big Macintosh amidst the slumber. While the eldest Apple brother looked like he could beat up anypony, the younger stallion saw no harm or violence possibly arising. 

Lowering his own head to a resting spot, Mockingbird noticed a strong sensation of comfort come over him. Like he was at peace and safety with the gentle giant. Under the moonlight, he only appeared to be even more beautiful and attractive than before. 

Ever so carefully, Mockingbird shifted his lips forward until they softly pressed against Mac’s smooth forehead. The stirring stallion deeply moaned in his reverie with an unconscious smile. Rings of pink surfaced and widened across his freckled cheeks. 

“Goodnight, Big Mac.” The colt nestled his head into the spare pillow and laid under the numbness of relaxation. As his eyes began to blink gradually slower, he took advantage of the opportunity to spend his final moments awake, admiring the stallion across from him. He blinked slower, and slower, until finally, Big Macintosh’s form blurred away to be replaced by the darkness of the eyelids.   




 I blinked at the last part of his story. My right eyebrow curled with a small grin. “You kissed him?” 

“You didn’t hear this from me.” 

I stepped forward, eager with curiosity. “Mockingbird, are you attracted to Big Macintosh?”

He massaged the back of his neck with his soapy hoof. “Well, he’s good looking. But that was just a friendly gesture. Nothing more.” He double patted his neck, then brought his hoof to the center of his focus. My brother then flailed his sud covered foreleg, grabbing a towel. 

I giggled, and began placing the wet silverware into the tray to dry. I have never been an expert when it came to romance, but I wasn’t so gullible to not believe attraction when it was right in front of me. “Okay, if you say so. But you also came home late last night. One of your notes said that you were out?” 

“I was. Probably should've sent word about that or something.”  

“Oh, that’s okay. What did you end up doing?” 

Mockingbird slapped the damp towel over the oven handle and trotted into the living room. As he sat himself in a chair, he leaned back and cracked his neck. “Well, yesterday, I was approached by Big Mac after I finished pulling some weeds…"





The afternoon sun beat down harshly on the grey pegasus on bended knees. As he ripped the final intruding weed from the garden, he swiftly wiped his forehead clear of sweat, tossing the dead plant into a wagon. 

“Not too shabby, Mocking,” came Big Macintosh’s approval from behind. 

Mockingbird picked himself up, clapping his hooves clean on a job well done. “I’m just glad that this garden wasn’t any bigger,” he commented with a chuckle.

“Eeyup.” Mac took notice of the way that his friend smiled in the sunlight. The glistening of his teeth and the playful feeling behind the face brought joy to the farmer. Seeing the younger stallion enjoy himself, and be happy to be there, could only lift his spirits for all to notice. “Hey, uh, Mockingbird, I was just wondering if you were busy or something tonight.” 

“Uh, no, I don’t have any plans. Why do you ask?” 

Macintosh exhaled. “Well, I was going to head into town tonight for this social that Applejack has been trying to get me to go to. And I was just wondering… ya know… if ya wanted to just…”

“Of course I’ll go with you.” 

“How did ya know I was gonna ask that?”

“Just a feeling.”


***


The little town of Ponyville buzzed under the festivities of its nightlife. All the restaurants and inns welcomed all ponies out and looking for a good time. The streets glowed under the white party lights that hooked and wrapped each street lamp, forming a square filled with mares and stallions from all over town.

Deep within the bustling and chattering crowd, the two young stallions sat at their own picnic table, deep in conversation. 

Big Macintosh emphasized his words with his hooves. “I’m just saying, Fleetfoot would more than likely strain her own wings if she were to fly up against Soarin.”         

Mockingbird laughed, waving away his own hoof. “Please, pretty colt Soarin can only fly like lightning if somepony tells him there’s apple pie at the finish line. Fleetfoot has more experience. Fleetfoot has won the most medals out of any of the Wonderbolts—”

“Which shows exactly how dated she is. By this time, next season, she will be doing more resting in the hospital than flying.” 

“You mean like how Soarin will be doing more chasing than practicing?” 

“What do ya mean by chasing? The mares, or our pies?” 

“Both.” 

They ended the debate with a heartfelt laughter that required a break for breathing. After a heavy inhale, Mockingbird was the first to pick up the conversation again. “Wow, Mac, I didn’t even know you were into The Wonderbolts, let alone aerobatic sports.” 

Big Mac took a sip of his water. “Well, when one of our best customers for pie is on the team, it’s kind of hard to turn down the free tickets to their shows and events on the ground.” 

Mocking rested his head onto his hoof. “I always used to go with Shy and Rainbow Dash when we were little. Rainbow was always the most enthusiastic one and always wanted to sneak into the locker rooms. It actually got us kicked out one time.” 

The red stallion chortled. “Eeyup. I just recently discovered The Wonderbolts. I never thought I would be so into them, either. When I was younger, my former guilty pleasure was relaxing away my troubles, while Marezart played on Granny’s old gramophone.” 

Mockingbird’s eyes widened. “No way. You like Marezart?”

Big Mac smiled. “Eeyup.”

The pegasus’ voice excitedly picked up energy. “I always enjoyed listening to her earlier scores, but always struggled with learning them.”

Mac tilted his head. “You struggled? I thought singing was your special talent.”

“Believe it or not, Big Mac, Opera is the one music genre I genuinely struggle with. I don’t have the voice.” He cleared his throat and attempted to belt out a tenor B in a forced heavy timbre. The resulting sound was the resemblance of a hungry grizzly bear yawning, rather than a powerful and commanding hero’s voice. The ponies surrounding the two unpleasantly covered their ears, glaring at the disrupting noise. 

Once Mockingbird cut himself off, he looked around at the annoyed expressions, and sheepishly flushed before trying to hide his face. Big Mac placed a supportive hoof on his shoulder. “And I take your word for it.” 

They both chuckled before Macintosh continued his part of the conversation. “But, yeah. Those records belonged to my great grandfather, who sold to the Canterlot Opera Company. He enjoyed the music so much, that they offered him a collection of some of their recordings. They are all still in working condition, too.” 

“You know what I always enjoyed about Opera?” Mockingbird asked, dreamily. “It gives the world much needed music. I just look around and think of how much better it would be if the world was actually a song. Everything would be so much more beautiful and exciting. We would always know the hero, the villain, the maiden, and the supporting cast members. Nopony would be afraid to show emotion or love either.”  

Big Macintosh nodded. “Eeyup.” 

“You actually agree? You don’t think I’m being silly?” 

“Nope.” The earth stallion reclined and placed both hind hooves on the table. “I actually think what you said was very nice.” He pointed to himself. “When I heard you sing on Saturday, it actually felt like the party was right from the gramophone. I felt comfortable, happy and relieved to sing with you. I enjoy listening to that music because it helps me relax from always being the strong one and the heavy lifter. When I listen to beautiful music, I’m free. Just because I’m a tough looking farmer, doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate art.” 

“I think it’s great,” Mockingbird commented. 

Mac sat back up right. “Wow, I just realized that you’re the very first pony I’ve ever told that to. Nopony else knows now except for you and me.” 

While the party and social music surrounded the two stallions, the atmosphere went warm. Mockingbird could feel goosebumps run down his spine. They gazed at one another, content with living in the now. Like the two were brought together by faith. The comforting air that surrounded told them not to leave, and only to enjoy the moment they had. 

That was until a small, porcelain unicorn filly came running up to the scene. “Big Mac! Big Mac! Big Mac!” she squealed with a high pitched, puppy dog-like voice. 

She paused about six inches from the table for a moment to catch her breath. “Apple Bloom forgot this at school.” She pulled out a slightly chewed number two pencil with a rubber apple eraser on top. “Can you be sure to give it back to her, please?” 

“Eeyup.” Big Mac took the pencil from the filly and placed it down beside him. 

“Thanks.” 

“Sweetie Belle, how many times have I told you not to go running off on me like that?” The next pony to interrupt the moment was Rarity in pursuit. She magically held a bundle of plastic shopping bags while a violet scarf wrapped her neck. She caught up and smiled to see who was at the table before her.

“Oh, Mockingbird, it’s very nice to see you tonight,” Rarity said, her face turning pink. She glanced her eyes away like she was intentionally trying to avoid making contact. 

“Hey, Rarity,” Mockingbird answered. “Great to see you too.” He observed the merchandise of skirts and necklaces, floating in her silvery blue aura. “I see you’ve been shopping?” 

“Oh, yes. I recently found some new inspiration for my next line up. I… uh… had to use some outside sources for material. I see you’ve met my sister, Sweetie Belle.”

“Nice to meet you,” Mockingbird greeted the filly with a smile. “You’re one of Apple Bloom’s friends?” 

Sweetie smiled, a reddish pigment filtering her cheeks. “Uh, yeah… she’s… uh, my friend.” She lightly laughed like she was in front of the cutest colt in her class. The filly glanced up at her older sister with a playful smile. “This is Fluttershy’s brother, Rarity? You’re right, he is a real cutie!” 

Rarity’s eyes bulged to the size of bowling balls. Face turning scarlet, sweat soaking, she covered her little sister’s mouth and laughed nervously. “Uh, hehe. Children and their imaginations. What will they think of next?”  

Mockingbird simply squinted his eyes in suspicion. “Yeah… right.” 

“Well, we better be getting home,” Rarity said, consulting an imaginary watch on her wrist. “It is way past Sweetie’s bedtime and she really needs her sleep.” 

The younger sister tried to wrestle the grasping hoof free from her mouth. “No, it's not, Rarity, I’m not even tired!” 

“Yes, you are!” She started to make her way out with shopping bags and Sweetie Belle in tow. “Goodnight, Mockingbird and Big Macintosh. Tell Fluttershy that I really enjoyed our spa appointment today!” 

“Will do,” Mockingbird answered her call as the siblings left the crowd. After a brief moment of trying to process the recent happenings, the stallions turned back to each other as Mockingbird commented, “Well, that was weird.” 

Mac shrugged. “I’m used to that happening to me all the time.” 





I giggled. In a seat across from him, Angel Bunny curled in my lap as I gently stroked his long ears. “It’s actually kind of funny that you mentioned that. Rarity did talk about you at the spa.”

“What did she say about me?” Mockingbird asked. 

“Oh, nothing much. She just wanted to see how you were doing and kept complimenting on how wonderful you sounded at the party.” 

“Heh, yeah. I always get a lot of compliments days after a perform... ow!” My brother gasped in sudden pain, and began rubbing the middle of his spine. 

I glanced to him with a worried expression. “Are you okay?” 

“I think I might've twisted this today,” he grunted. “It’s actually been bothering me a lot.” 

As he continued his attempt at massaging his sore spot, I could easily tell that he was having very minimum success. With a chortle, I lifted Angel from my lap and left my seat. “Would you mind if I gave it a try? I’m pretty experienced with giving massages to bears.”

He looked up at me. “Uh, sure, I guess, if you really want to.” I trotted over to the large chair, as he shifted himself further down. He turned around so his back was facing me, as I took my seat on a hoof rest. 

“Okay, so where does it hurt?” I asked. 

He answered by circling his hoof around the lower end of the right side of his back. “Around here. It’s really driving me nuts.” 

“Well you won’t have to worry for long. Dr. Fluttershy is in the house.” We both laughed as my hoof tenderly dug into his aching muscles, the skin lifting and flexing with every motion I made. 

Mockingbird took in steady breaths and softly moaned in relief. “Mmh, that feels really good, Fluttershy. Where did you learn to be a chiropractor?” 

“Well, if you’ve been with bears as much as I have, you learn how to relax even the largest of muscles. So, what happened on the orchard today? You came home pretty happy. 

He smiled. “That I did, Shy. That I did. 





The sun beat down over the two stallions as they pulled the apple cart. The hollow containers inside rattled along the beat of the dirt path, loose extra apples rolling about on the cart floor. Mockingbird, by Big Macintosh’s side, sustained a potential laugh before finishing his story, “And that’s when Fluttershy said, ‘I’d like to be a tree—' Why do I feel like I’m telling that wrong?” 

But his company did not care. Big Mac chortled heavily, wiping a tear of laughter from the corner of his eye. “Ha, that’s a good one! I can’t believe Applejack never told me that story from Appleoosa.” He lowered his head. The wind continued to whistle through his ears as he gazed at the oncoming farm. He sighed. “Though, I do wish there were some things that she wouldn’t tell me.”

“What do you mean?” Mockingbird asked.  

Macintosh shook his head. “Do ya remember when we met about a week ago at the party? Well, the only reason I was there was because Applejack made me come.” His eyes darted to and fro, confirming that the area was clear. “She was trying to hook me up with your sister.” 

If it weren’t for the fact that they were pulling a wagon, Mockingbird would've paused dead in his tracks. “My sister?” 

Big Macintosh huffed through his mouth. “Eeyup. I don’t mind going out to events. If she wants me to be more social, I can try to be more social. But I just wish she could see that I don’t want to date mares.” 

At those last six words, Mockingbird’s heart skipped a beat. His eyes widened. He felt a sense of bafflement, having not been able to see it earlier. There remained a huge supporting possibility that the closest friend he made in Ponyville was much more like him than he thought. Though he could not tell whether or not this would lead to anything special, Mockingbird felt that he could finally find comfort in seeing that he was not alone. 

Big Mac continued, “I don’t see you having a problem with that in my life, do ya, Mockingbird?” 

“Oh, no, of course not. I think your dating preference is very understandable.” 

Mac leaned his head in closer. “Then do ya think that we can keep this between us? I’m pretty confident that my family will still accept me, but my gut is telling me otherwise? So, until then, can we just keep this as a secret? Stallion to stallion?”  

Mockingbird had a very familiar past of not wanting a secret to get out. Hearing the urgence in Big Macintosh’s voice sounded like a familiar plea that he would make to his own conscious. Being too familiar with a sense of uncertainty only makes it easier to keep a secret, especially if it’s for a friend. 

Mockingbird nodded. “Okay, Big Mac, you don’t have to worry. Your secret is safe with me.” 

“Thank you very much.” Mac thanked him like he was almost about to cry. The Apples seemed like such a nice family. Surely, his work partner would have guessed that his relatives and loved ones would be more open to him. 

Once the two reached the gate of the farm, Applejack trotted up to unlatch the lock, allowing them to pass. As they pulled into Sweet Apple Acres, Apple Bloom and Granny Smith soon joined them in anticipation. Mockingbird and Big Macintosh both un-harnessed themselves and massaged the stress marks left on their sides. 

“Alright, boys,” Granny Smith said. “Way to bring in the bread!” She reached into the wagon and scooped out a hefty brown bag, jingling the sound of bits like a musical instrument. 

“I can’t believe y’all really sold that much!” Apple Bloom cheered. “This is gonna be a great start to the season.” 

The stallions gave the harnesses to Applejack, who settled them to her side. “So, Big Mac, did you two have a nice day in Ponyville with the booth?” 

“Eeyup,” he answered plainly. The eldest sibling turned away from the sister, clearly looking annoyed. What could have possibly been so irritating about a simple question like that?   

Noticing the lack of enthusiasm in his voice, she tried to continue with, “Okay, did any big customers like Filthy Rich buy ‘em out?” 	

“Nope.”

“Did you two talk to anypony a lot during the shift?” 

“Nope.” 

“Why are ya being so short with me, Mac? Ya sure ya had a good day?” 

“Eeyup!” Mac answered the last question with a strong hint of aggravation. Well, that certainly came out of nowhere. He stomped off and headed for the closest well to dunk and cool his head. 

The other four simply stood stunned and confused at what just happened, mostly Applejack. She shook her head, rolling her eyes with a grunt. She looked at the pegasus beside her. “Do ya know what’s going on with him, Mockingbird? He rarely says two words to any of us.” 

The teenager scratched the back of his head and looked down. “He’s just tired, I guess. I’ll go talk to him.” 

Mockingbird trotted over to his destination and met the larger stallion with caution. Big Macintosh looked at the ground, his mane matting the dirt into mud with dripping well water. He looked like the only thing he requested for was some simple peace and quiet. 

“Hey, Mac, you alright?” Mockingbird quizzed. 

Big Mac lifted his eyes to the clouds, cupping his vision with his hooves. “Every time she begins talking to me, I just think that she’s gonna bring up that question about whether or not I saw anypony I’m interested in. Why can’t she just let me be?” 

Mockingbird took a seat next to him. “Seriously, man, you were acting like a child. I don’t think a question like that is anything to really snap about. She’s your sister.”

“But it just gets so annoying, day in and day out. I love her and care for her, but conversations like that always lead to that same question about my love life.” Big Macintosh wiped his head dry and slumped in his seat. 

Mockingbird sighed, shook his head and crossed his forearms. “Look, I know that siblings can sometimes be annoying. But soon, she may be the only family you have. What’s the point if you are going to be mad at her for no reason? Do you want to talk with her about it?”  

The red stallion looked into the orange eyes of the grey pegasus. Pleading eyes. Begging eyes. Was it really offending Mockingbird that much to see his friend be so upset with his sister? Did he really hate seeing Big Mac like this? Perhaps he really meant more to him? Maybe the farmer’s reaction was a bit ridiculous. Mac found it very hard to say no to his look. Almost like he didn’t want to hurt his feelings by refusing. 

“Oh, alright, let’s talk to her,” Big Macintosh said. He lifted himself up and trotted ahead of Mockingbird back to the awaiting family, all wearing concerned expressions. Mac faced Applejack with perfect eye contact. The tension could already be felt beginning to brew. 

“Applejack,” Big Mac began, “I’m sorry for snapping like that. It was wrong of me to do so. But, I just think that whenever we talk, you might be digging too much into my personal social life, especially when it comes to dating. I’m already happy as I am, so please be honest: are you willing to accept me being on my own?” 

Applejack flicked her hoof at the ground, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry too, I guess, Big Macintosh. Last week, I actually had a talk with Fluttershy at Pinkie Pie’s party, and she told me not to worry so much about it. I suppose I should've told you what she told me first, and we could've avoided this confrontation. I just didn’t realize it was really bothering you that much.” 

“I really appreciate it, Applejack,” Big Mac complimented with a blush. Applejack’s face replied with a very similar color shade. A warm feeling spread to all those surrounding the brother and sister. Mockingbird could sense the all too familiar sibling love that he had grown accustomed to his whole life, simply by watching the make up in front of him. He no longer saw the Apples as a normal family, but the family he now envied for. A family with a truly unbreakable bond, and tight knit love. 

“You really are a great family, aren’t you?” the younger stallion asked. “You see, Mac and AJ? You two really do love each other. It’s just amazing. I don’t know how to put this, but…” 

His imagination began to wonder. He could feel a rhythm move throughout his own body. An uncontrollable urge to truly express what he was feeling. Yes, the musician would have looked rather silly, but he simply didn’t care. 

Mockingbird began tapping his hind hooves and clapping together his forehooves. Once he had a tempo going, the rest of the earth ponies looked at him like he was doing something more strange than Pinkie Pie. But, resisting all the orders of his conscious to remain normal, he began singing the lyrics: 


You’re Apples forever


Apples together


You’re family, but so much more


No matter what comes, you will face the weather


You’re Apples to the core!


As you have learned earlier, Mockingbird’s voice is very contagious—easier than catching the flu. But once a pony has caught it, then they wouldn’t want any doctor to cure them. 

Steadily, Applejack joined making her rhythm in sync with the composure, stomping her hooves. She eventually picked up a banjo by her side and began strumming each cord. She followed the beat of Mockingbird until the rest of the family began to dance as well. She sang: 


We travel the road of generations


Joined by a common bond


We sing our song 'cross the pony nation


From Equestria and beyond


Feeling the spirit spread like fire, Apple Bloom leapt up to her sister and Mockingbird, to join in singing: 


(You’re) We're Apples forever, Apples together


(You’re) We're family, but so much more


No matter what comes, (You) we will face the weather


(You’re) We're Apples to the core


It was then Apple Bloom’s turn for a solo:





There's no place that I'd rather be


Than being with my family


Friends all around come to join and see


As we sing out across the land


How could it have even been possible for Big Macintosh to have stayed mad during such a joyful, yet random, occasion. He knew that he was an Apple who loved his family. To be with his family was to join in their celebration. Mustering up his Baritone singing voice, he started to dance and join his sisters in singing the chorus:


(You’re) We're Apples forever, Apples together


(You’re) We're family, but so much more


No matter what comes, (You) we will face the weather


(You’re) We're Apples to the core


Granny Smith was the last to join in on their jubilee. The beautiful melodies, combined with the upbeat tune, gave the grandmother a grande boost in her step. Like all evidence of arthritis disappeared, she danced like she was fifty years younger. She grabbed Mockingbird by the hip and hoof, and swung him around like they were at a square dance. With a large smile, she sang: 


We're peas in a pod, we're thick as thieves


Any cliché you can throw at me


We're here for each other, through thick and thin


You're always welcome with your Apple kin


Wheeeeee!


On her final note, she unraveled Mockingbird, spinning him like a top. The excitement and pride he felt at bringing joy to the Apple family sent his heart racing. He felt his own song lift his spirits as well. The young colt could only express how he truly felt when he sang: 


You're more bright than the color pink


Or blue jays soaring over your favorite drink


The love I feel here is swim, not sink


As we rejoice across this land


For the first time, since the tragedy that was his birthday, Mockingbird felt the happiest in his life. Being with the love of a family that he wished for was only too good to not be a dream. If this was slumber to him, he didn’t want to wake up. He felt like he could have been with the Apples for hours. They finished the song with a final refrain, singing: 


We're Apples forever, Apples together


We're family, but so much more


No matter what comes, we will face the weather


We're Apples to the core!


On the final note, Mockingbird felt a relieving wave wash over him. He wanted nothing more than to rest in optimism on the soft earth below. Letting the laws of gravity take him away, he allowed the air to drop him, but not onto a soft patch of grass like he expected, but into a foul puddle of pig’s mud. 


*** 


The last of the chores were completed, calling the day to an early end. Caked in mud and dirt, Mockingbird started to make his way out through the gate, Big Macintosh walking beside him. 

“Mockingbird, it was really great to have ya helping us out this past week,” Big Mac complimented. “I don’t think we could have nearly gotten as much done if ya weren’t around.” 

He received a smile in return from his fellow. “It wasn’t a big deal, really. It gave me some stuff to do, and I’ll admit, I really enjoyed spending time with the family. You have something special here, Big Mac. They should really mean a lot to you.” At least, I wish my own family could feel the same way. 

“Yea, I really don’t know what came over me.” 

“Don’t worry too much about it. You’ll be fine.” Mockingbird placed a supportive hoof on his companion’s shoulder. With this very simple contact, Mac could feel a heat of energy shoot through his body. A good heat. He felt comfort and reassurance from the beautiful stallion looking up at him. To Big macintosh, he felt like he would have been alright with being touched all day. 

“Hey, Mockingbird,” Mac began, “you really did help make my days here better. It can sometimes get pretty lonely if it’s just me, my sisters and Granny. But when you were here, I just knew that I had somepony to look forward to seeing at the start of the day.” 

Blood began to rapidly rush into Mockingbird’s head. He wanted to respond, but found it impossible with a swelling tongue. “I, uh, really enjoyed it here too, Big Mac,” he successfully returned. 

“Do ya wanna do something this weekend?” Macintosh proposed, sounding hopeful. “Maybe we can go out and have fun together, just the two of us.” 

A large smile came across the recipient’s face. Whether it could've been just friends hanging out or something more, he didn’t care what it was. As long as he was with Big Mac, he wanted to enjoy it. 

“Uh, sure,” Mockingbird answered. “How about on Sunday, we can go to a movie or something?”

“That sounds good enough for me,” Big Macintosh replied. “I guess I will see ya that afternoon, then?” 

“It’s a plan. I’ll see ya later.” Turning away from Sweet Apple Acres, Mockingbird felt a new spring in his step. After such a series of unfortunate events for him, he has received days of bliss and acceptance. Those days were shared with somepony he now thought of as special. Somepony who wanted to spend more time with him. Somepony who might've meant more than a friend to him. 

All he could have asked for and more came from farm labor. He merrily trotted back to the cottage into the sunset, as if all his woes were sucked from his mind. 





I sat beside him with a warm smile. After day in and day out of nothing but negativity and bad things happening, it’s amazing how much the simplest bit of good news can feel for a pony. For Mockingbird, I could feel nopony else more deserving of this feeling than him. 

“Mockingbird, it sounds like you had a very wonderful week,” I happily said. “Now didn’t I say that things would soon get better?” 

He smiled back at me. “You did say that. Hopefully now, that raincloud will stop following me everywhere I go.” 

“Rainbow Dash hasn’t been following you.” His good mood was contagious. I’m never the one to make jokes, but it just felt so right at the moment. As Mockingbird giggled, I left my seat and scooped up Angel into my arms. When I was sure that he would've resisted, he actually made himself comfortable with a tired yawn and almost made my embrace his bed. He was so cute. 

“Well, let’s hope she doesn’t start anytime soon,” he stated after a breath. 

“Then thank goodness that tomorrow is supposed to be sunn—” I paused. My head lowered. All the negative thinking that kept me anxious all week filtered back into my brain. 

“You alright, Shy?” my brother asked. “You seem a bit off.” 

I shook my head. “I just remembered, Mockingbird, tomorrow.” 

His own eyes widened. As if all the good feelings that he experienced just moments ago were purged. “Oh.”