I Quit
"Are you sure that's the right decision?" Spitfire asked incredulously as Rainbow Dash stared her down.
"You lied to me about Soarin's wing, just so you could get a better flyer!" The rainbow-maned mare replied, gesturing to Soarin with her hoof, who stood grimacing at his team mates with his forelimbs crossed over his chest. "You may be a winning team, but you're not the kind of winning team I want to be a part of."
Spitfire looked to be deep in thought. She removed her glasses and gave Rainbow Dash an appraising look. "Rainbow Dash, you are something -- saw it at the academy, seeing it again here; we could learn a lot from a competitor like you." The fiery-maned captain smiled as she turned her remorseful gaze to Soarin. "You ready to fly?"
Soarin had to think about it. Part of him wanted to say 'Really?!' as if nothing had just happened, but this wasn't the first time they had done this to him. It was always through some convenient 'mishap' or 'miscommunication' that he always ended up missing the Wonderbolts derbies. On several different occasions he had been 'accidentally' replaced in their roster with Wave Chill or Rapidfire when he was due to perform at major shows, which would end up with him being forced to watch the show from the stands where he was stuck signing autographs and being accosted by fans. Soarin wasn't an idiot. He knew what was going on. The Wonderbolt had decided that he had had enough. Soarin knew that he was the weakest flyer among them, but he was sick of his team mates making him feel left out. He wasn't sure at that point who he should be more angry with: himself, or them.
"Well?" Spitfire said. "You ready to fly, or not?"
Soarin decided to start with them. He would have plenty of time to deprecate himself later. "No."
Spitfire smiled and turned around, but she quickly turned to him again in a double take. "Excuse me?"
"I said, no." Soarin pointed an accusing hoof at her. "This is the fifth time you have done this to me, and I'm sick of it. You always seem to take advantage of every opportunity you can to ditch me. Why didn't you just bring Rapidfire instead of me?"
"That's what I originally suggested," Fleetfoot answered with a callous shrug. "Spitfire thought it would be more PC if we had at least one male in our group, but since you were injured from being distracted by those cheer fillies bouncing around, I'd say that was a mistake."
"Fleetfoot!" Spitfire cautioned her through a row of clinched teeth.
"You see that?" Soarin said. "I'm glad Fleetfoot is here, because I can at least hear the truth from someone. Why am I even a part of this team if I'm just going to be treated like unwanted baggage?"
Spitfire placed a hoof upon her irate team mate's shoulder. "Soarin, this isn't the time or place for an outburst. I really wish you would have just told me you've been feeling this way sooner."
Soarin swatted her hoof away. "Look, I'm sick of being treated like a third wheel in this team. I'd rather not be a part of it if I'm just going to hold you all back."
"You have no one to blame but yourself, Soarin." Fleetfoot interjected. "You have had plenty of opportunities to train and improve yourself, but you didn't take them, and that's why you are our weakest link. That's why we were forced to switch you out of the roster so many times. I would have told you straight to your face that we switched the roster on you, but Spitfire wanted to spare your feelings. It was she who came up with all the bogus excuses as to why you couldn't attend all those events. If you're going to be mad at anyone, be mad at her."
Soarin sneered. "I knew it."
"Fleetfoot, you are out of line!" Spitfire shouted.
"No, no she's not, Captain. As harsh as she sounds, she's telling me everything I need to know. And now that my suspicions have been confirmed, I have made a decision."
"Decision?" The captain echoed.
"I quit."
"Quit? As in — you quit the Equestria games?"
"I quit being a Wonderbolt; I'm out." Soarin raised from his haunches and immediately made his way toward the train station.
Rainbow Dash suddenly landed in front of him to bar his path."Wait, you can't just quit The Wonderbolts!"
"I just did."
"Soarin!" Spitfire joined Rainbow Dash at her side. "Think about what you're throwing away!"
"I had plenty of time to think about this decision when I was in the hospital. No one came to visit me, so I had ample time to reflect on my life."
"Where will you go? What will you do? You reside in the estates at the Wonderbolts academy when you're not on tour. Where will you live? The board wont provide housing for you if you're not on the team!"
"Spitfire, one of the perks to being a Wonderbolt was that it paid well. I have plenty of funds in my account to survive comfortably until I figure out what my next move will be. I don't even have anything to my name back in my living quarters, so I have nothing to send for. It's almost like... There was nothing here for me in the first place." And with that, Soarin opened his wings and arched over the two mares before continuing his path to the train station. As he continued his stride the last conversation he heard between Spitfire and Fleetfoot was that of them arguing amongst each other.
"Fleetfoot, do something!"
"I am, I'm sending an express letter to Rapidfire in Los Pegasus."
"Fleetfoot!"
"What? We need a third member to qualify for the games!"
The beams of morning light shining between the slats of the cheap hotel room's louvered blinds assaulted Soarin's senses as his blood shot eyes opened. The days were always bright and sunny in Cloudsdale, making it the worst place in the world to wake up with a hangover. With a dry mouth and pounding head he rose, the metallic cacophony of the empty beer cans scattered about the quilt sending strident nails of pain through his skull. He shuffled awkwardly out of his bed and kept a hoof against the wall to balance himself as he made his way to the bathroom.
Never in his life had he vomited so much. He flushed the toilet and fell backwards against the wall, groaning with his head in his hooves.
After sitting there with his back against the wall for what felt like hours, he finally managed to get to his hooves, and he left his room. After checking himself out of the hotel, and purchasing a newspaper from the clerk behind the counter of the lobby, he trotted across the cloudy road to a small diner with his paper rolled up between his teeth.
"Welcome, sir!" An enthusiastic mare behind the bar greeted him. She was a spritely looking lass, sporting a grease stained apron, red hair bound back in a ponytail, and the white fur on her face was pockmarked with red freckles. She was most likely in her late teens or early twenties. Soarin might have thought she was cute if he didn't feel like absolute shit. Acknowledging the girl's friendly greeting with nothing more than a groan, he took his seat at the bar and placed his newspaper down on the counter.
"Hangover?" The mare guessed.
Soarin grumbled a half-hearted response as he spread his paper across the counter top.
"Coffee?" The waitress guessed again.
"Please," Soarin muttered, rubbing his temples. "And an ice pick."
The waitress blinked. "An ice pick, sir?"
"Yes, maybe if I poke a few holes in my skull it will relieve some of the pressure."
The waitress giggled at that. "Funny and cute! you're making me glad I didn't play hooky from work today."
Soarin smiled, despite the throbbing pain in his head.
"Can I bring you something with that coffee, sir?" The waitress tempted him. "My omelettes are to die for."
"Yeah, that sounds really good right about now," Soarin replied as he turned his attention to the want ads. "I need something in my stomach."
"Coming right up!" The waitress was gone in a flash, and the sounds of sizzling and pans clanking filled the kitchen behind the window across from the bar. She left the kitchen only once to set an empty mug down in front of Soarin. "Would you like cream, sir?" she asked as she filled the cup from a coffee pitcher.
"No thanks." Soarin took several deep gulps of the hot, bitter beverage before returning to the want ads. " 'Construction ponies needed.' " Soarin could do that. He was good with his hooves. " 'Preferably a Pegusus who can work from high places.' Check. 'Must have experience...' crap." Soarin rolled his eyes before moving on to the next ad. " 'Apprentice baker needed at Sugarcube corner in Ponyville.' " Soarin felt as if he could certainly do that. Ponyville wasn't that far from Cloudsdale, and he loved sweets. He continued to read the list of requirements, which were becoming more and more asinine with every line. " 'Must love to have fun.' Okay, that's a bit strange. But who doesn't like to have fun? 'Must... Must know how to juggle? Must know how to operate a cannon? Must have experience applying clown makeup? Must love alligators? Must know what the fox says?' Who in Tartarus wrote this ad? Pass." He continued to scroll down the list of jobs he was either under-qualified for, lacked the experience required, or just refused outright for his dignity's sake. " 'Sign waving.' No thanks. Next. 'Security guard.' Put that in the maybe section. 'Fry cook.' That'd be a hard no. 'Taxi pony.' Maybe."
"Your omelet, sir."
Soarin raised his gaze from the ads and noticed the mare standing across the counter. A plate containing a piping fresh omelette rested atop a round serving tray delicately balanced on her hoof. She set the plate near Soarin's paper and chirruped, "Enjoy your breakfast~"
The pleasant aroma wafting off the omelette in tendrils of white steam stimulated Soarin's appetite. "This smells good. Thank you, miss."
"Not a problem, sir. If you need anything else just call me. The name's Ruby Dusk."
"Beautiful name," Soarin commented.
The waitress favored him with a flirty wink before leaving him to his meal.
Girl knows how to earn a tip, Soarin mused to himself as he took another sip from his cup. He saturated the omelette on his plate with a bottle of hot sauce that had been conveniently set out on the bar before forking a large piece into his mouth. He returned to his paper as he chewed the bite, and that was when a particular ad caught his eye.
'Farm hand needed at Sweet Apple Acres. No experience required. Job comes with benefits: Room and board provided. Consult Applejack for further details.'
A job with benefits? Room and board? That would save him the headache of hunting for an apartment. Working out doors in the fresh air? Physically challenging labor? Soarin smiled before rolling his paper up. He emptied his coffee cup with two generous gulps and stuffed the remaining half of the omelet down his throat with one hard swallow. "Miss Dusk, check please."
"You only had the omelet and the coffee, right? I'll just go ahead and round your bill down to eight bits," came Ruby Dusk's voice from somewhere in the kitchen. "My hooves are a little full back here, I'll be there in just a sec."
"Don't bother, I'll just leave the money here on the counter."
"Okay then, thank you, sir. Come by and see me again, okay?"
Soarin felt charitable as he remembered how the girl made him smile. This charming lass deserved something for her efforts. Soarin set the eight bits down on the bar, along with a munificent tip of twenty bits. "You put a smile on this stallion's face, now he's gonna return the favor."
"What was that, sir?"
"Nothing, your money's on the tray," Soarin replied before pushing the glass door open and exiting the diner.
Sweet Apple Acres -- it was like an ocean of green from Soarin's point of view. He stood there perched upon his cloud, peering down at the sprawling property below. The two story farm house nestled within an emerald pasture overlooked the orchards, like a lighthouse standing erect at the shore of an apple-scented sea. He took a moment to appreciate the view before setting a course toward the homestead. "Consult Applejack for further details," he said as he descended from the sky, recalling the words posted in the ad. "Applejack... Where have I heard that name before?"
The intricacies of the property became more discernable to the winged stallion as he closed the distance between himself and the farm. He could now make out the three rung fence enclosing the grasslands that surrounded the house. At the opposite end of the pasture, he espied a large dilapidated barn near the fenceline that made up the field's parameter. At the enclosure's opening, directly across from the two story home, he could see a wrought iron arch wrapped in vines and leaves, which marked the entrance for a dirt path that presumably extended all the way through the orchards. Far, far off in the distance, Soarin could make out where the sprawling rows of trees gave way to untouched land and snow-capped mountains. The more he could see of the property and it's beautiful, natural surroundings, the more he could see himself enjoying working there.
A young red-headed filly lazily lying on the porch was the first pony he came into contact with. Soarin landed softly in front of the large wooden stoop. "Excuse me," he said. "I'm here for the job posted in the paper. Could you please direct me to this Applejack I'm supposed to speak with?"
The filly perked her little head up, her adorable amber eyes fluttering sleepily. "Huh, you what?"
"The job," Soarin repeated. "I'm here for the job specified in the paper."
"Oh, the job," the filly yawned. She pushed herself up to her hooves and stretched. "Why don't ya come on inside, mister. Ah'll interview ya."
Aww, she's got a little southern drawl. Soarin was immediately taken with the filly. Her mannerisms were just too cute. He couldn't hold back his quizzical grin as he said, "So, you're Applejack?"
The filly's red mane whipped over her shoulder as she turned to answer him. "No, Ah ain't," she said matter-of-factly. "But Ah'm a member of the Apple family, which would still make me yer boss, if Ah decide to hire ya. Now, step into mah office, won't ya please?" With a flick of her mane she continued to saunter her way into the home, pulling the bottom dutch door open and letting it close behind her on its rusty hinges. "Oh, and if ya do get the job, yer first chore is going to be oiling that freakin' door."
Soarin couldn't help but be amused. He decided to go along with this little game, curious to see where it would lead. He followed her through the dutch door, opening both the top and bottom sections and entering to find himself standing in the living room. He noticed a stair case to his left, and a pair of swinging saloon doors to his right, where the filly was waiting for him. He noted the wooden rocking chair in the corner of the room, and the corridor that most likely led to the den. He began to wonder if that's where he would be residing if he got the job. He jumped when the dutch doors suddenly creaked and slammed behind him with a loud thump.
The little red head giggled at his reaction before she bade him to follow her through the bat wing doors, which presumably led to her 'office.' Soarin noted with amusement that the little filly was barely tall enough for the bow in her mane to just slightly brush by the bottom of the swinging doors as she entered. He followed her, pushing the doors aside, and looking around to find himself standing in the kitchen.
"Have a seat." The filly gestured to a chair at the dining room table before pulling out a stool for herself.
"Alright..." Soarin pulled a flimsy wooden chair out from under the table and sat. He listened uneasily as the chair creaked in protest, feeling as if it might give out under his weight at any moment. "So," he said as he was settling into his seat, "nice place. I could really see myself enjoying living here."
"It's been in the family for three generations now," The filly stated proudly. "A lot of ponies wouldn't understand, but we're all mighty proud of our little farm here; It's our home and it's our coffin... Hope that don't sound too morbid for ya."
"Not at all. It sounds nice. You really sound like you know where you belong in life; that's amazing at such a young age. Here I am, a full grown adult, and I still don't know where I belong. I envy you." Soarin couldn't help but feel a sudden twinge of melancholy. If he was no longer a Wonderbolt, what was he? The sudden realization stung. "It's... Hard to know what your goals and priorities are when you can't even find a paved road that leads you there. I'm sorry if that sounds weird, but knowing where you belong in life is truly a blessing in of itself."
"If the road to your goal is already paved for ya, there ain't no point in traveling it, pardner," came a thick drawl from behind. Soarin whipped his head around and noticed a golden earth pony entering the kitchen through the swinging saloon doors. He walked over to a cupboard above the kitchen counter, selected a glass and a large bottle filled with an amber fluid, then sauntered to the table and took a seat.
"So, pardner," he began, while pouring the fluid into the glass he had taken from the cupboard, the intermingled sour yet sweet aroma of whisky and apples instantly permeating the room. "What do Ah call ya?" He slid the glass across the table to Soarin, then took a generous pull straight from the bottle.
The filly puffed out her cheeks with a pouting frown. "Ah, Come on Braeburn, Ah was gonna interview him!"
"Now, little darlin', it was yer sister who done put me in charge of the interviewing process. Why dontcha go'n play with them little paladin friends'o yers?"
"Crusaders," the filly corrected him.
The cowboy removed his hat and tussled his mane before he sat back in his chair and rested a heavy hoof on the table. "Yeah, crusaders, that's what Ah meant t' say. Why don't y'all go 'n see a movie?"
Soarin noticed instantly that this Braeburn character didn't look at all like how he sounded. His deep southern drawl was so thick he was barely able to understand what the guy was saying. He had the stride and mannerisms of the classic tough guy cowboy you'd see in the old western flicks, but his angelic face, golden mane and perfectly sculpted body made him look more like a model than a cowboy.
"That sounds fun an' all, but we used up all our bits when we bought a pie cannon for the club house. We can't afford to go see no movie."
"That so?" The cowboy dug into his vest and dropped a small burlap bag on the edge of the table, which made a metallic jingling noise as it landed. He again leaned back in his chair with a laid back smile. "That should be enough for the three of ya, Ah think."
The filly hopped on to the table and undid the lace with a light tug. She opened the bag and surveyed its contents before her eyes lit up with an exuberant smile. "Thank you, cuz!"
"Ain't no thang, sweetheart," Braeburn chuckled. "Go on, now. The big ponies need ta' talk."
"Kay, thanks, bye!" The redhead said excitedly before taking the bag of bits in her mouth and leaping down from the table. She nodded to Soarin as if to wish him luck in getting the job, then skipped away happily to bump her head on the bottom of the bat wing doors at the kitchen's entrance. "Celestia buckin' pony feathers!"
"Watch yer mouth, sweetheart," The cowboy chided in a mild tone.
"Sorry," came the filly's voice from the living room.
"Now, then," the cowboy said, "that just leaves us. Ah hope ya came ready ta' work."
Soarin looked down at the pungent amber liquid in his glass. He then slowly lifted the rim to his lips and took a cautionary sip. The sourness of the beverage overwhelmed his senses and scorched his esophagus as if it were liquid fire, but he tried his hardest not to show it in front of the cowboy, worried that he may be offended by his reaction. "So," Soarin said, fighting back a cough, "you're just going to hire me like that? No interview? No questions? You're not even asking for a resume?"
Braeburn once again put the mouth of the bottle to his lips and chugged down two deep gulps as if the unpalatable fluid was water. He then set the half-empty container down on the wooden table with a dull thud and said, "Mister, let me tell ya a little somethin' about us Apple family kin: 'round here, we use our actions to speak for us. Ah could ask ya a million questions, an' you could have an answer for every single one, but Ah'd still know nothin' about ya. Ah gotta see ya in action before Ah can know what yer truly worth to us."
Strangely enough, the cowboy's words made more sense to Soarin than anything he had ever heard in his life. He smiled, feeling a slight sense of admiration for this Apple family wisdom."If only politics worked the same way."
The boisterous cowboy let out a hearty laugh in response and gave Soarin a friendly punch in the arm, which numbed him all the way to the bone. "Hell, Ah like you, pardner! Now come on, we got work to do." He sprang energetically from his seat and pushed open the swinging doors. "Comin'?"
"Yeah... I'm coming." Soarin resisted the urge to rub his bruised arm as he pushed himself up from the table, and then he hobbled his way through the kitchen's exit.
THWACK Soarin bucked the unyielding tree with all his might and watched as only two apples fell from it's branches. "Seriously? I put everything I had into that kick!"
"Already told ya, it ain't about power: It's about precision and technique. Here, let me show ya again." Braeburn approached the tree, turned away from it, and kicked it with a perfectly executed buck.
Every apple in the tree rained down around the cowboy in a downpour of golden delicious, while Soarin could only watch in dismay. "Witchcraft!" He said accusingly. "There is no other explanation as to how you can do this so easily!"
"Ah ain't usin' no fancy unicorn parlor tricks," Breaburn laughed.
"Performance enhancing drugs then! You're on the moon sugar, aren't you?"
Braeburn threw his head back and laughed again. "You are a hoot!"
Soarin's eyes narrowed in irritation before approaching another tree. He crouched his hind legs in preparation for another kick before the cowboy intervened. "Make sure to bring yer legs in closer 'fore ya buck em out, and remember to throw yer weight into the direction of yer kick. Try not to lock yer elbows when you spring up with your hind legs. And remember, eighty percent of your power comes from your flanks and yer hind quarters. Think about all that while ya kick; the more ya do it, the more yer muscle memory will take over for ya."
Soarin sprang his hind legs upward and bent his knees, then he let his hooves return to the ground. He practiced this a few times, making sure his form would be exact to his tutor's instruction.
"Nice," the cowboy critiqued with an approving nod. "Ya got the technique down, now let's see ya apply it."
With a deep breath, Soarin sprang his hind legs up from the earth, shifted his weight toward the tree, and kicked as hard as he could. The impact resonated through the tree's base with a loud thump as it's branches surrendered their fruit to him.
"Very nice!" Braeburn cheered.
Soarin watched the fruit fall and hit the ground all around him with a proud smile, but when he looked up he grimaced when he noticed how many apples still clung defiantly from the branches above. The irritated stallion kicked the tree again. Then he kicked again, and again, and again, until every piece of rebellious fruit lay defeated on the ground before him.
Satisfied, Soarin sat back on his haunches to catch his breath. "This kind of work is surprisingly therapeutic."
Braeburn gave Soarin an approving nod. "Yep. There's nothin' on Celestia's earth that cleanses the body, mind, and soul like a hard day's work. Now, let's get these apples in the cart and move on. We still have a few dozen barrels we gotta fill before lunch."
Soarin blinked incredulously. "Did you say a dozen barrels -- before lunch? That sounds like more than an entire day's work." He looked back at his legs. He had only been working for an hour and they were already beginning to burn.
"Nope," the cowboy said. "Ah said a couple of dozen. Maybe we can call it a day after that. Ah don't wanna burn you out on your first day. Besides, Applejack is gonna want to meet you. In the end, she'll be the one who ultimately decides if you stay or go. Ah'm only here to show you the ropes." Braeburn then gave him a cautioning look. "Ah hope you ain't steppin' into anything yer not sure you can handle, pardner. Today is child's play compared to what a full day 'round here will be like."
"Well, what's a full day like?" Soarin asked, dreading the cowboy's response.
Breaburn removed his hat and scratched the scruff of his chin pensively. "Well, the roosters'll wake ya up around five... Or four... depends on the season."
Soarin cringed at that. Even the Wonderbolts didn't wake up that early for their morning PT. "Uh huh... Go on..."
"When ya wake up, you can head in to the house for some grub before ya start yer day. Granny Smith makes the best biscuits n' gravy you've ever had. Shoot, her cookin' alone will make it worth working here."
"Wait what do you mean by 'Head in to the house?' I won't be sleeping in the house?"
"Nah, they got you yer own place to bed down at. It's the old barn at the far corner of the fence. They don't use that old thing anymore, it's been around since Granny Smith was a little filly. They decided to go ahead and use it as the quarters for the farmhand - which will be you. It ain't a bad place to stay in, though. Replace the broken windows, spray it for vermin, fix the floor boards, add a fresh coat of paint, sweep it out, fix the hole in the roof, call a Celestian to perform a blessing on it, and it'll be good as new. Heck, Ah'm sure you'll love it once you get all yer stuff moved in. Ah'll help ya with that, if you'd like."
"Wait, wait, wait, wait... Did you say call a Celestian?"
"Apple Bloom thinks it might be haunted," Braeburn explained. "You can shrug that stuff off as superstition if you'd like, but it's better to be safe than sorry."
"Great," Soarin muttered, "so I get to wake up at four in the morning after sleeping in the Amityville barn house..."
"After breakfast," Braeburn continued, "you'll be tending to the livestock: Feedin' em, shovelin' out their pens, that sort of thing - then you'll pretty much be buckin' apples for the rest of the day. You'll have lunch, then it's back to work. At the end of the work day, you'll be takin' the barrels filled with all the apples ya harvested, and yer gonna be storin' em in the cellar. Them barrels'r pretty heavy, so you'll be carryin' em down one-by-one. You'll probably be makin' about twenty to thirty trips up and down them stairs. After all that's done, you'll be reportin' to Applejack to receive your pay for the day. She'll also be giving you additional assignments if there's anything else 'round here that need's doin' or fixin'."
Soarin tried not to openly express his displeasure at everything the cowboy had just listed to him: having to sleep in a destitute, worn down shanty, waking up at four in the morning every day, spending his entire day kicking trees, then having to haul that cart around that he swore must have weighed at least a metric ton. The thought to go crawling back to his former team mates crossed his mind, but only for a moment. That was probably what they expected him to do. His team knew that he had never been very resilient when it came to changes in his life, nor was he good at sticking to his decisions if they were to ultimately lead down a difficult path, but he refused to go back on this one. The very thought of doing so, the very notion that he would consider groveling to Spitfire and Fleetfoot after that big scene he had made at Rainbow Falls enraged him. This job wasn't really that bad considering everything he used to have to put up with.
"I'm not going back!" Soarin suddenly blurted, as if he envisioned his former captain standing before him that very moment.
"D'you say somethin', pardner?" Braeburn's voice suddenly brought Soarin back to reality.
Soarin's eyes flashed with renewed vigor. "Nah, just thinking out loud," he responded. "What do you say we get back to work? These apples aren't gonna buck themselves."
"Ah like yer attitude!" Braeburn replied in an upbeat, encouraging tone. "Ah think we found our new farmhand. AJ is the one that still makes that decision, but with a go-get-em attitude like that, yer gonna be a shoo-in."
Soarin absolutely refused to go crawling back to Spitfire. This was a trial of his fortitude, and he refused to let it beat him. "I'm ready for anything. No matter how hard or rough the terrain may be, no matter how many bumps I hit or holes I stumble into on my way, there is nothing that will stop me from this day on. I chose this path for myself, and though it may not be paved for me to simply stroll along it, I'm going to see it all the way through!"
"I quit... I... I can't do this anymore..." Every muscle in Soarin's body burned as if his veins had been pumping acid. He laid sprawled out on the ground, his chest rapidly expanding and contracting with his labored breaths. "So tired... Can barely move..."
"Yeah, Ah'd say it's about lunch time." Braeburn mused before removing his hat and wiping the sweat from his brow. "Ah guess halfing the work days will be fine until yer completely caught up to snuff with things 'round here. Why don't ya relax for the rest of the day? Maybe we can move some of yer things into yer new place?"
Soarin let out a raspy cough before responding. "I don't own anything. I have nothing to my name -- and I don't think I can get up. I think you should tell Applejack that she'll need to wait a little while longer before somepony more suited to this kind of work comes along," he said as a feeling of hopelessness washed over him. Every time he tried to compensate or comfort himself with the poor excuse that he was a Pegasus and not an earth pony, that he just simply wasn't built for this kind of labor, one word would end up popping back in his mind. 'Quitter.' Soarin was a quitter. He knew it, and he wasn't going to delude himself from that fact. He quit the Wonderbolts over a petty spat, and now he found himself quitting once again. All because the job was too hard.
Braeburn looked down at the broken stallion lying before him. "That's too bad, pardner. Is there anyway Ah could get you to reconsider?"
"No... I'm sorry to have wasted your time. Tell your cousin that it didn't work out. Tell her that I'm sorry."
"You should probably tell her yourself. She usually takes her lunch at the house. Why don't ya go on down and see her? Ah'll go ahead and get these barrels to the cellar for ya."
"Fine... Thanks for everything, and no hard feelings." Soarin managed to get to his hooves. He nodded a farewell to the cowboy, who silently nodded back before he focused himself on his task of hitching the wagon. Thankfully the house wasn't too far from where they were. He could see it through the clearing of the trees in the distance, but his legs still burned like blazes. He decided to fly the short way back to the house.
He landed softly on the moist turf in front of the home. He figured that since Applejack's name sounded familiar she'd be easy for him to recognize once he saw her. He began to hone in on a trickling noise coming from the side of the house. "Miss Applejack?" he called out
"Who's that?" a female voice responded. "Ah'm over here near the well pump."
Soarin winced with every step as he made his way to the side of the house. The moment he saw her standing near the pump, memories of her came fleeting back to him. She was indeed familiar to him - the hat was an instant tip. It was the mare who sold him those sinfully delicious pies at the gala. He even recalled that she was in the small group that watched him as he chewed his former captain out the day before. He couldn't help but feel a little guilty for forgetting her so easily, but his chaotic and busy life as a Wonderbolt made it much too difficult to remember a mare he had only seen a few times. "Miss Applejack?" He called out to her again.
"Ah'll be with ya in a minute, sugarcube." She removed her hat, set it on the ground, and undid the band around her golden ponytail. Upon its liberation from its bind her hair fell all around her like a disorganized mess of honey-colored silk.
Damn, Soarin thought. Was she... Was she always this hot? The dress she always wore at the gala kept her assets a little too well hidden from him, it would seem.
The mare lifted the wooden bucket and spilled its contents over her, letting the grime of her labor roll off of her back. Her sopping wet coat clung to her feminine frame and revealed every dip and curve of her figure.
Soarin's wings twitched. "Hello~ farmer's daughter," he muttered absentmindedly to himself.
Applejack whipped her sopping wet mane around to one side and turned to grace him with the warmest smile anyone had ever given him. "You the new guy? Welcome to Sweet Apple Acr-- Wait, don't Ah know you? What are you doin' here?"
Soarin no longer felt his muscles aching or burning. He forgot all about his pain, emotional and physical. It was as if all the negativity he felt burned up in the wave of heat that was now searing his cheeks red. He cleared his throat and said, "Yes, I am the new guy. Soarin is my name." Maybe sticking it out and working here for a little while longer wouldn't be so bad after all...
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Rainbow will throw a fit when she find out, but hey, he's in ponyville shaking up with her best friend, she'd gonna have so much fun teasing them
3858474 Nope, Rainbow Dash is too busy salivating over Big Mac's hot bod... Right...? I say this knowing very well that you're a RainbowMack fan
I'll stick around...for now.
I actually quite like this so far. You've earned your star and thumb, sir!
A Soarin' AJ Fic. I'll be following this for now.
A nice set-up, a very reasonable reason for him to quit and Links greatly with that episode, VERY reasonable.
Well written, and gives Soarin believable motivations both for quitting the team and for staying at Sweet Apple Acres? I'll be keeping an eye on this.
Oh hey! A Braeburn/Soarin Fic! I didn't know you liked that ship!
All serious now: loved it. Can't wait to see more.
Errrm...Real_SilentPony... I think this is a soarinjack ship :/
You know, you actually kind of took an idea similar to mine. What I mean is that I wanted to possibly do an alternative ending to Rainbow Falls where Soarin quits the Wonderbolts as well and moves into Ponyville. The differences though is that it would be a different paring with a little bit of a love triangle in it.
I do hope we get to see Spitfire and Fleetfoot again later on and try to make amends with Soarin about what they did. And considering they were a third member short, I think it's safe to say that Cloudsdale didn't qualify.
Go Applejack. One look at you and Soarin will harvest all the apples in the orchard. Great story. I can't wait for the next chapter to come out.
There's never enough Soarinjack in the world! Good on you for contributing!
Amazing how misandry is very high in Equestria...
I always thought that the Wonderbolts were a giant joke, really. They never seem to be able to do anything right.
Good plan getting out of there, Soarin'. Farming's a good job. Builds character and muscles.
Loved it so far! HUGE Soarjack fan, that's my MLP OTP, and you write incredibly well, I can't wait for the next chapter!
3858528
Oh yush, a big, BIG fan ^^
KarmaDash Why do I keep seeing you everywhere?...... Are you following me?....
Though not a soarindash shipper myself, I like what I see so far. Not a bad start, a few good jokes and the characters feel...natural but I want to see more of this fic first before I should call it a masterpiece, but at least it's a good start.
I caught a glimpse of the farmers daughter...
Dare I ask if this story was inspired by the song at all? :D
Well... Um... Where shall I start? Let's start with this, there isn't really anything I can say is bad. I like all of it so far and think you should make more of the story cause I mean its a really good story that I can really see more of in the future. I'm getting sort of repetitive here so I'm just going to leave you with a Derpy smiley face and say terah!
And also a Spike mustache face. Why? Cause my mind told me to. 
SoarinJack isn't a bad ship after all... :D Speakin of which, what the heck is Braeburn doing in Ponyville!?
Would be interesting to see the Wonderbolts get a bad rep and taken down a peg for this. After all, Soarin did just confessed what he's been going through and quit in front of a small crowd of ponies.
great story, because your writing is very fun to read, if you continue this story I'll be eternally grateful!
Well... as Soarin' x Applejack is one of my favorite straight ships I shall give this a fave and see where this goes, but so far I like what I see
3861396 Was Soarin and the Wonderbolts formal with each other when they were bickering in the beginning? The mare at the cafe was formal, because come on, she's at work. Applebloom acted like a bit of a brat, but she's got a sweet side to her. Braeburn was formal, but in that rustic kind of way. He poured Soarin a glass of whisky and slid it to him from across the table while he introduced himself. I plan on keeping him very reserved and very polite; you just never want to get on his bad side because he can be kind of a bad ass, too. That's how I see him, anyway.
Well, I've never been one to fret over spellin' mistakes all that much but try to work on it, would ya, mate?
That aside, I'm a huge fan of this settin'.
I named my guitar after Applejack, so ya can probably guess how I feel 'bout her.
You get a fave and waitin' reader.
Hakuna Matata
This took place in Rainbow Falls
Wonderful, can't wait for next chapter!
*Liked and Faved*
interesting fic...lets see how this will go.
I've go to say that I was really steamed when I that episode the way they treated Soarin was a bucking disgrace the sexism and even outright
contempt that Spitfire and Fleetfoot showed for Soarin was infuryateing it truly makes feel elated that Rainbow Dash has these higher responsiblities that will keep her from ever being a Wonderbolt beacuase that team is so far beneith her it's bucking disguesting.Oh for the record
it's Pegasus not Pegusis,might want to fix that is all.
Looking forward to more.
Very forward
...
Heh. No pressure
I read that line like:
3861962 Pretty much all the dialogue in this is pretty stiff and unnatural, honestly.
3862429 yeah, now that I have an example I guess I can kinda see where you're coming from. Criticisms are just as welcome as compliments, so I appreciate it. I'll try to work on that.
I would like to see Dash´s reactions to the events. Can she, the Element of Loyalty, still admire the Wonderbolts as she did before, after watching how much of a bunch of selfish backstabbers they truly are?
I could not stop laughing.
I somehow see Soarin becoming an even stronger flyer than Spitfire and Fleetfoot because of the farm work he does.
3859690
3859361
Orrr... you could smell the sarcasm coming off the comment?
COOKIE!!! COOKIES FOR EVERYPONY! *Throws cookies everywhere*
3863030
Ditto.
good chapter, I'll follow this fanfic
Nope, skooma
3864697 oooHH! nomnomnom here have a sandvich in fact sandviches for everyone!!!
It was a story that showed no theme, but generally had an ending quite good, for my tastes, the description towards Applejack might have been the most important for the writer, but thats my opinion, it also seemed that soarin was gifted with the ability of being anti-life, one who doesn't want to do any work, which seems mildly strange considering the courses one needed for the Wonderbolt Academy, but again maybe I missed a step on the wiki or something, none the less good story
WHAT
I thought u said this has sex 
This starts quite interesting. I'm not an SoarinJack shipper, only read two fics about them until noe, but I won't mind reading more of your work here.
3864879 YES! I'm officially in love with you now! Keep reading for more subtle Elder Scrolls references
i.imgur.com/DQ8HA.gif
I feel kind of bad for Soarin, like he's being used. Just a poster boy for the Wonderbolts. So what if he didn't it seriously, he was still an amazing flyer that he trained hard enough to join them. Feel like he was cut short here.
3865977 I caught that too, but I didn't know if you were just using some hip new slang. Now that my suspicions have been confirmed you get a favorite.