38w, 6dSuddenly, Something 3 comments · 67 views
56w, 13hI'm back from the grave! 1 comments · 69 views
79w, 3dI'm actually getting stuff done! 2 comments · 51 views
87w, 3dTime really sneaks up on ya 1 comments · 61 views
88w, 6dWHO ARE YOU PEOPLE 4 comments · 38 views
89w, 14hMy fingers are so sore... 0 comments · 31 views
91w, 16hMOTHER OF GOD 2 comments · 38 views
91w, 4dA little more info 0 comments · 41 views
Pinkie’s face lit up when she saw the yellow pegasus’s face slip just past the crack between Fluttershy’s cottage and its front door. Cautious as always, Fluttershy was making sure it wasn’t a threat that had come around in the middle of the day and knocked on her front door. “Hey there, Fluttershy!” Pinkie cried out, making the cowering pegasus yelp in surprise. “How’s it goin’?”
Gaining her bearings, Fluttershy stiffened her back to stand up straight, and she opened up the door completely. Before she could say ‘hello,’ her eyes landed on Applejack, who was standing behind the grinning Pinkie, next to a rather somber Twilight. Applejack herself looked as grim as could be, making Fluttershy take an instinctive gasp as she held a hoof up to her mouth.
“Oh—oh my,” the timid mare managed to utter, “Applejack, are you alright?”
Applejack’s lightly-glazed eyes had been absently staring at Fluttershy’s hooves on the ground. Hearing her name being called was just enough to get the farmer’s mind off her cringing stomach. “Eh? Ah suppose Ah’ve had better days…” She lowered her head and went back to staring at Fluttershy’s hooves.
Seeing how sorely confused the pegasus was, Twilight cut in. “We were hoping we could use your cottage here as a place to help AJ get over her apple problem. We’ve only got ourselves two days before that Celebration begins.”
Fluttershy’s inner nurse was already kicking in. “What? An apple problem?” she gasped, “What’s wrong?”
Applejack sniffed indifferently. “T’ make a long story short, mah body wants t’ toss its cookies every time Ah see or even smell an apple. Some kinda conditioner or something.”
Pinkie’s brow furrowed at the answer. “Aren’t you suppose to use shampoo before the conditioner?” she asked to the other three ponies, who only looked back at her in disbelief. “What? That’s how I do my mane, I dunno about you three—”
“It’s because of conditioning,” Twilight interrupted with a huff, “not conditioner.” She was half-correcting Applejack, half-rebutting Pinkie. “Anyways, you don’t mind if we just worked on this here at your place, do you?”
“Oh, of course not!” Fluttershy exclaimed softly, ushering the three ponies into her animal-filled house. “I’d rather you not do this in my house, though…if you don’t mind, that is; you don’t mind, do you?” she asked sheepishly. “Perhaps you could practice in the backyard, maybe?”
“S’long as we ain’t around other ponies for them t’ watch me humiliate mahself,” Applejack replied with her head hung low. Fluttershy nodded in reply and led the three ponies through her spacious living room, all the while shooing away her curious roommates as they tried to dive their noses into the strangers’ faces, all but an equally-curious Pinkie trying to ignore them. After reaching the back door of the cottage, Fluttershy opened it up and showed the three out.
“Here we are, wide open ground for you to practice, um, getting better!” Fluttershy announced, spreading an arm wide to show off the span of land behind her house. Thinking on her own words, Fluttershy became confused. “…Actually, how do you do that, anyway?—getting Applejack to not be sick by apples, I mean. …Actually, why is she getting sick by apples in the first place?”
“It’s like Twilight said earlier, Fluttershy,” Pinkie replied honestly. “She used her conditioner before her shampoo.”
“Oh, um, okay.” Fluttershy didn’t question Pinkie’s words, and unfortunately Twilight hadn’t overheard so that she could give the right response; the unicorn was already leading the ghastly apple-farmer out to the center of the fenced acre. The pegasus called out, “So, uh, please, take as much time as you need, and I’m sure that perhaps maybe I could help out if you need it—”
Twilight chuckled at her friend’s burning desire to help. “It’s quite alright Fluttershy; no need to get all riled up, but we’re just short on time and need this place to work.” She ushered Pinkie over to join with her and Applejack. Fluttershy was still standing in the middle of the doorway, watching on, feeling like she hadn’t done enough.
“Yes, yes, okay, you go ahead and work,” Fluttershy rushed. “Please, I implore you. Just tell me if you need anything!” she called out, gently, and closed the back door slowly; even as she closed the door, she continued to watch the three, waiting for them to suddenly say something to her, something they may have forgotten to mention; the girls only stood in the backyard and watched Fluttershy watch them, before she finally closed the door completely, ending with a slow CLICK. Then top of a pink-maned head popped up from behind the window next to the door, the head continuing to watch its friends.
Twilight only looked away and smiled, shaking her head. “Oh, Fluttershy… Anyways, Applejack.” The seriousness had returned to her voice, and the mood was becoming heavy again. “We still need you to get used to smelling an apple. Are you ready?”
Applejack braced herself on her four legs, locking her knees but still softly shaking; she felt like she was playing chicken with a speeding train. The blonde mare stared into Twilight and Pinkie’s eyes with flaring determination, prepared to take on the world. “Ah’m as ready as Ah’ll ever be,” the earth-pony replied confidently.
Despite the rapid progress they had been making before, getting Applejack used to the smell of a real apple was turning out to be quite the high hurdle. Twilight knew that it wasn’t the actual smell of apples that set her friend off, but rather the fact that Applejack knew if she could smell an apple that it meant there was one in the vicinity. Her body just couldn’t comply with being around apples, period.
Several hours had passed, and by now the sky was blending into a fantastic shade of orange-red over the horizon as the sun neared closer and closer to the edge of the visible earth. During the time spent at Fluttershy’s cottage, the pale yellow pegasus had come out to give the three determined ponies a late lunch and glasses of lemonade. Applejack had remarked then on how she could still eat every fruit, sans apples; in a snide insult to herself, prompting concern from her surrounding friends, she implied that she’ll have to return to work for Cherry Jubilee, or perhaps work on a lemon farm. The acidic citrus from the lemonade was nothing compared to the stomach acid burning up her throat—by this point, the vomit counter had reached four. Despite her harsh attitude, though, Applejack wasn’t ready to give up yet. She couldn’t give up.
Fluttershy opened u the back door of the cottage and greeted Twilight and Pinkie, who were standing up against the back of the house as they watched the coming nightfall in the distance.
“How’s it going with Applejack?” the pegasus whispered just out of earshot of the farmer, her eyes landing on the blonde earth-pony slumped over the wooden fence on the other side of Fluttershy’s small ranch; Applejack’s back was facing the others, she herself grimacing at the beautiful sunset glowing over her.
Twilight shook her head slowly and sighed. “Since the sticker, we’ve literally made no progress. I don’t really think it’s so much the apples that are causing her to get sick—we’ve already seen how quickly she’s improved in the past—but the fact that she’s been having to basically swallow the same lunch over and over this entire day definitely hasn’t helped out with our training—well, MY training,” she added, glancing over at the Pinkie earth-pony on the other side of the door. “…Pinkie’s been, well, she just kinda stood around and talked over me.”
“But I was trying to liven up the mood, Twilight!” Pinkie replied in defense. “And how could I talk when you were always talking to Applejack?”
“YOU were being a distraction,” Twilight stated matter-of-factly and looked back out to the low-hanging sun in the distance.
“Twilight,” Pinkie announced, regaining the unicorn’s attention, “I think a doctor once said it best when she said that ‘laughter is the best medicine’? And, well, I AM the element of laughter, after all!”
Twilight gave a huffy sigh. “Please tell me you don’t seriously believe that, Pinkie. And don’t even get me started on ‘a doctor.’ Anyways,” she turned back to Fluttershy, who had been silently listening to their back and forth, “tomorrow is the last day before the Apple Family’s Celebration, and the entire event only lasts the one day.” She was only giving her friends a reminder about the event—they should know, since they had helped the previous two days in setting things up. “Applejack is one of the most talented of her entire family; she was going to perform her athletic stunts, and it was going to be one of the highlights of the event. Not only Applejack, but her entire family is going to be left feeling empty if we can’t fix this within the next day.”
“Perhaps they could just keep out any apples at the event…?” Fluttershy offered.
Twilight shook her head slowly. “Not only would that be a near impossibility for the ‘Apple Family,’ but Applejack herself had forbade us from even suggesting the idea to Granny Smith, as Pinkie and I had considered the option earlier too. She doesn’t want her problem to be a hindrance on the rest of her family, I suppose.”
“That’s good-ol’ Applejackie for you!” Pinkie cheered and relaxed flat against the cottage with a content sigh.
“Yeah…‘good old Applejack,’” Twilight repeated sarcastically.
“What she probably needs is some shut-eye,” Fluttershy said to the two, looking back at the orange mare still draped over the fence on the other side of the yard. “Tomorrow you guys can restart the training, but I’m sure that after she gets some good rest, she’ll be more than ready to face an apple!”
“We can only hope so, Fluttershy…” Twilight replied unconfidently.
Applejack awoke to the sound of a rooster crowing in the distance, telling all within a mile’s radius that the morning had arrived. The earth-pony was used to hearing as much—there were plenty of roosters back the farm; she couldn’t even consider going back home, given how sick apples made her, so she stuck around at Fluttershy’s place and slept in the guest room. Fluttershy had a chicken coop herself, so it was no surprise that there were also roosters about.
But, something didn’t sit right with Applejack. Rather, something felt wrong in that it felt so familiar. If she was at Fluttershy’s, her bed shouldn’t feel so…right.
Except, this wasn’t Fluttershy’s bed. This wasn’t even Fluttershy’s house.
Applejack’s eyes nearly burst out of their sockets, her eyelids springing open to reveal that her worst nightmare was coming true. She looked around and immediately recognized the room as her own bedroom—with the green walls, the hat and rope rack near her bed, the apple-themed pillow beneath her head and even the small floor-pillow on the opposite wall for Winona.
Applejack wouldn’t dare even look outside, except that she couldn’t help herself. Turning to her right, her wide eyes met with the vast apple orchard outside, along with the entirety of Sweet Apple Acres. Applejack caught a glimpse of the banners and decorations around the barn outside before she had to quickly turn away; with nothing else to do, she leapt out of bed in order to distance herself from her window. She’d only just woken up, and already her mouth tasted of acid.
The poor earth-pony was on the verge of hyperventilating. Now what was she going to do?! She was stuck here—her own house, a prison! It was an APPLE ORCHARD, for Celestia’s sake—the smell of the fruit was everywhere! With no idea of what to do, Applejack simply looked up at the ceiling, took in a deep breath,
The sound of rushed hoofsteps from the outside hallway sounded, and got louder; Twilight slammed the bedroom door open with her back hooves and sprang inside to see what was wrong. Though, all she was a sweaty, wide-eyed Applejack standing next to the bed, breathing hard and staring at Twilight with a combination of confusion, desperation, and rage.
Applejack leapt at the unicorn and grabbed her by the shoulders, shoving her face into Twilight’s to meet eye-to-eye. “Wha’dya DO!?” she yelled in her friend’s face, “Why’d ya BRING me here?!”
Twilight only stared back at the panting earth-pony holding onto her. Looking surprisingly calm, Twilight then tilted her head back and narrowed her eyes at Applejack, surveying the mare. “…How do you feel?” she said carefully, levitating her pen and clipboard with yesterday’s notes in towards her.
Applejack, taken aback by the question, shoved herself off of Twilight and backed away from her like she was a hungry bear—or an apple. “‘How do Ah’—YOU DRAGGED ME HERE IN MAH SLEEP!” she practically screamed at her friend.
“But…are you nauseated right now?” Twilight asked with another tilt of her head and a cocked eyebrow, completely waving away Applejack’s fury.
“How the heck’m Ah s’posed to LEAVE this place?” Applejack demanded, her anger not subsiding; she felt about ready to tear Twilight a new one.
Just then, a cotton-candy mane popped out from under Applejack’s bed. “WhoawhoawhoawhoaWHOA, now. Can everypony please be level-headed here?” Pinkie said as she clamored out from below Applejack’s mattress.
Applejack’s anger had suddenly vanished, if only for a moment, to stare blankly at Pinkie. Then, she looked back down at the bottom of her bed, of which only stood six inches above the floor. “P—what? How’d you…?”
“You had a dust bunny hiding deep under your bed,” Pinkie stated casually as if it were a sufficient explanation. She held up one of her pink hooves to show a lump of dust, strangely the size and shape of Fluttershy’s bunny Angel. “See?”
“…aaanyway,” Twilight began, her head turning away slowly from the lump of dirt and back over to Applejack, “Back to the topic at hoof. You certainly don’t LOOK all that sick, AJ. Now, take a deep breath and get a level head.” The unicorn waited as her friend closed her eyes and sighed after having taken a deep breath in through her nose. “…Now then, are you feeling alright?”
Applejack took a moment to stop and think on Twilight’s words. How was she feeling? “…Surprising’ly, Ah feel pretty good,” the earth-pony admitted. “An’—wait a minutes, Ah feel perfectly fine!” She started to jump up and down in excitement, as she realized that, despite being in the middle of an apple orchard, she felt perfectly fine—she’d overcome the smell of apples! Applejack continued to leap around her room with a loud whoop.
Twilight allowed a long-held breath to escape her lungs. “Thank Celestia it worked, too,” the unicorn said with a sigh. “I think your body really does want to get better just as much as you do, Applejack; Pinkie and I brought you here in the middle of the night, hoping that the smell of the Acres in your sleep would assist you, to give you the boost we couldn’t provide.”
Applejack paused form her hopping to look back at the grinning purple and pink ponies standing next to her. “That was still a pretty nasty thing to do, Twi,” Applejack scolded, but she couldn’t keep the giddy smile off of ther face while she did. “Imagine if your plan didn’t work. I’da prob’ly keeled over right on the spot.”
“I took the necessary precautions and calculations, Applejack,” Twilight informed matter-of-factly. “It’s not like we just went and said, ‘Hey, let’s go toss our friend into the fire and see what happens!’”
“Sure seems like tha’s what’cha did, but Ah suppose Ah trust ya enough,” the farmer replied, the smile still stuck on her face. “Anyway, Ah’m still kinda stuck here in mah own house now, so what’s the next step?”
Twilight’s lips sealed tightly, and she turned to look at Pinkie, standing on her right. Pinkie shrugged, but she had a smile of her own that rivaled that of Applejack’s in width and brightness. “Let’s play some games to celebrate!” the party pony replied to both Twilight and Applejack.
“We can’t just stop, Pinkie,” Twilight rebuked, “Not when we’ve suddenly made so much headway.” She turned back to Applejack, the smile of the farmer’s face dampened, but not completely lost. “As far as making any new progress goes…we’re still working on that.” Twilight rubbed the back of her neck with her hoof in embarrassment, trying to avoid her earth-pony friend’s gaze.
“But we shouldn’t worry so much anymore, right?” Pinkie shot in, trying liven up the mood, “Now that we’re here at Sweet Apple Acres, you’ve got your whole family to help you out, see?” As Pinkie spoke, she reached out to the handle on Applejack’s bedroom door, opening it up to show Big Mac and Granny Smith standing in the hallway smiling at the farmer, along with an older brown stallion with a white handlebar moustache and goatee, and wearing a goofy green getup.
“Oi, if it ain’t lil’ Applejack!” Apple Strudel exclaimed when he saw the orange mare walk sheepishly towards her inviting family in the hallway. He came up slowly and shakily to her, and when in arms distance, gave her blonde head a thorough rub-down with his hoof. “Noogie-noogie-noogie! Ahaha.”
“Hey, Uncle Strudel,” Applejack said enthusiastically while patting down her ruffled-up mane. “How’s the setup for the Apple Family Bi-Annual Get-Together Celebration?”
“It’s been going wonderfully, dearie,” Granny Smith replied, “Your friends have been so much help, and now that some of the distant family is arriving, they’ve started helping out with the food, decorations, such-and-such. Right, Big Mac?”
“So,” Applejack began, addressing her biological family, “How much do y’all know about his little problem Ah’m havin’?”
“We’ve pretty much told them everything,” Twilight replied from behind the orange mare, grabbing her southern-style hat off the hat-rack near the inside of the door, and placing it atop the farmer’s head with her magic, “…at least, we tried to…”
“Yeah,” Strudel spoke up, “these friends uh yours’ve been talkin’ about how you’ve given up the apple business!” Applejack cringed slightly at the allegation and averted her uncle’s gaze. “What in Equestria made ya wanna stop with apples?”
“It’s not that Ah don’t want to, Uncle,” Applejack tried to explain, “It’s that Ah simply can’t. Mah body won’t let me eat any apples without getting’ me all sick.”
“Feh,” Strudel replied, waving off what Applejack was saying, having heard the same thing from Twilight earlier and not giving any real thought into it, “You young’uns and yer fancy body-problems. You wanna know the best way t’ remedy yer problem? Just eat apples ‘till you can’t eat no more! Here—Ah’ll help ya get started.” The old pony took off the feathered green hat atop his scalp to reveal a fresh, shiny red apple, perfectly balanced on his head.
Applejack eyed the apple nervously, as her stomach was already starting to protest the fruit that wasn’t even in her mouth. Big Mac noticed his sister’s anxiety and quickly jumped in. “Ahm, Uncle Strudel? Ah don’t think that’s th’ best of ideas—”
“Eat up!” Strudel shouted, and shoved the produce down Applejack’s gullet.
Everybody’s eyes grew wide with terror—sans Strudel, who looked rather aloof and pleased with himself as he stood back to rejoin Granny and Big Mac, watching Applejack as she stood perfectly still, the half-chewed apple plump in her cheeks. Applejack didn’t move; she froze herself in place as if the smallest movement would set her stomach off, which wasn’t entirely far from the truth. She just barely unclenched her jaw before her antagonist began to recognize the texture of the venom in her mouth.
The earth-pony’s vision began to blur. She managed to shove the mashed apple out of her mouth with her tongue before her stomach started acting up. ‘Dang it, body!’ Applejack yelled at herself in her head, ‘the heck’s wrong with you?! Why can’t you just realize that an apple is an apple?!’ Applejack watcher her friends and family through glazed eyes as she could feel her abdomen rumble uncontrollably, ignoring her council. ‘Oh no you don’t. You’re not winning, not this time!’ With the apples out of her mouth, Applejack began to swallow whatever saliva she had; it was a far shot from a glass of water, but the nearest sink was downstairs, and she knew she didn’t have that kind of time to keep down the nausea. Surprisingly enough, it was actually working, and the earth-pony steadied herself on four hooves spread out over the ground.
“She’s doing it…!” Twilight said, awestruck. “On her own, she’s doing it! She’s overcoming herself!”
“Sounds painful,” Strudel replied absentmindedly, not realizing how distraught his kin was, and was more concerned that she had just spat out the perfectly good apples he had given her.
‘Not this time…’ Applejack continued to repeat in her head, ‘Not this time…! Not this—oh, confound it—’
Applejack turned to the hallway window next to her, and she clumsily opened it as she flung her head out over the window ledge. Everybody cringed and looked away at the sound of the mare relieving herself of last night’s supper, even Strudel.
Pinkie watched, frowning and ears back, as Twilight continued to hose down the side of the Apples’ house that Applejack had hit. “You’d think with so much throwing-up she’s been doing, she wouldn’t have any up left in her to throw…” Pinkie said sadly.
“Yeah…” Twilight replied automatically, focusing instead on washing the house. “…Wait, what?”
“Huh?” Pinkie replied. “Anyway, what’re we gonna do now, Twilight? Do you think that whole incident helped Jackie, or did it make her worse?”
Twilight considered what had just happened. Basic logic would say that it wasn’t a good thing that poor Applejack had just thrown up again, but at this point, Twilight didn’t know what to expect anymore. “I don’t know, Pinkie. I suppose only time will be able to tell.”
Applejack herself was back in bed, despite it being high noon. Her family had insisted that she eat some kind of breakfast or brunch before returning to sleep, but upon finding out that there wasn’t a single thing to eat in the house that didn’t include apples in some way or another, they had to give up on feeding the mare.
“Was it a bad idea?—taking Applejack here to Sweet Apple Acres, I mean,” Pinkie asked again.
Twilight huffed a little, she herself feeling drained from the events going on with Applejack, and getting tired of her friend’s ranting of unanswerable questions. “I don’t know, Pinkie. Only time will tell.”
Pinkie’s cocked an eyebrow in Twilight’s direction. “Well then, what’re we waiting for? Let’s go find Time and demand that he tell us what we need to know!”
Before Twilight could make a remark about Pinkie’s idea, Big Mac came around the corner of the house and walked up to Twilight and Pinkie. “So, uh,” he started, “Just how th’ heck did she get that bad?” he said, referring to his sister. Big Mac didn’t always have something to say, but when he did, he got straight to the point.
“It’s as simple as I had said before to your Uncle Strudel,” Twilight explained, “AJ ate a bad apples. That’s all there is to it. Her body thinks apples will make her sick again if she eats them.”
“Then wouldn’t havin’ her eat an apple without her throwin’ up work just fine?” Big Mac questioned. “If she ate one an’ didn’t puke, her body’d realize that there’s nothin’ wrong with apples, right?”
Twilight shook her head sadly, making both Big Mac and a hopeful Pinkie’s spirit’s drop. “Not in my experience it won’t. Like I mentioned yesterday to Applejack, I have a similar problem with macaroni and cheese. Unlike Applejack, though, I can eat it and still keep it down, but no matter how many time I try to eat it, I never get any better.” The unicorn looked down at the ground as she continued to explain. “Her mind has been effectively tricked into crying ‘poison,’ and the only way to really fix it would to be re-tricking her brain, back to the ‘default,’ as it were. Reversing an effect that wasn’t even intended in the first place is kind of a hard thing to do, though.”
“Well…” Pinkie started, “Isn’t there any nearby puh-sigh-cologists that we can talk to fix Jackie, you think?”
Twilight scrunched her brow at the question. “Well…no, not really. I mean, psychology is one of the things I’ve studied long and hard on—after all, I was the only one who even knew AJ’s problem was a psychological one in the first place. Not many ponies look into these sorts of things.”
Big Mac spoke up. “Now, Twah’light, I think it’s really best that we get an expert in here. I know that yer intent on curin’ mah sister, but if we want her to be perfect before the Celebration tomorrow, we’re gonna need professional help.”
Twilight didn’t want to have to hear her friends tell her, but she knew deep down that there was no way she was going to do this on her own. “I…I suppose. I just wanted so badly to do this myself—heh, now that I think about it, I’m being as stubborn as Applejack was when she didn’t want help with applebucking season.” Twilight was talking more to herself than Pinkie or Big Mac; turning off the hose and looking back at the spotless side of the house, she turned her attention back to the two ponies in front of her. “I know of one, and only one pony that specializes in psychology. The only problem is that she’s all the way up in Canterlot.”
“Is it Princess Celestia?” Pinkie asked, wide-eyed.
“Uh, no,” Twilight replied. “Her name is Dreamcatcher; she’s a unicorn that works at Canterlot Castle itself, and as far as I know, always has a backed-up schedule. Getting her to come all the way down here to help out AJ will be no easy feat.”
“Well, if this Dreamcatcher mare’s as good as you say she is,” Big Mac started, “then Ah say we leave for Canterlot this moment!”
“Oh, she’s well worth it,” Twilight assured. “But like I said, I only know about her. She works under the Princesses themselves because of her talent, which are memory and thought enchantments. If anypony could cure Applejack, it’d be her.”
Big Mac tapped his hoof on the ground in agreement. “We only got ourselves a day ‘fore the Get-Together begins. If we’re gonna get somepony from Canterlot, it’s gotta happen today—and right now.”
Twilight nodded. “Dreamcatcher’s a powerful unicorn. If short on time, she could perhaps at least enchant Applejack’s mind to re-like apples. I know that doesn’t sound like a permanent solution, but if she really can’t do anything else for us, it would at least serve as a temporary fix so that Applejack could attend the Celebration without any problems.”
“Then it’s settled,” Big Mac said, starting to make the walk from Sweet Apple Acres to the train station in Ponyville, “We’re goin’ to Canterlot for this ‘Dreamcatcher.’ Sure hope it’ll be worth the trip.”
“Wait—I wanna go too!” Pinkie cried enthusiastically while jumping up and down. “Don’t go without me!”
“Sorry Pinkie,” Twilight replied, “but we need somepony to stay here with Applejack.” She glanced into the kitchen window and saw Apple Strudel walking inside the house, looking at the few banners and decorations that were already set up outside. “Especially considering the other ponies she’d be left with if you didn’t stay.”
“Aww,” Pinkie whined, “Why can’t Big Mac stay and look after her?” She turned to the red stallion. “She’s your sister, after all, Mackie.”
“Ah called dibs on second,” Big Mac replied nonchalantly.
“Fine,” Pinkie grumbled at first, but then her face lit up. “Then that means I get to spend a bunch of time with Jackie while I wait for you guys! Whee!” Pinkie proceeded to dash into the house without a second thought.
Twilight reached out to try and stop Pinkie, to tell her that it probably wasn’t the best of ideas to disturb the mare that was trying to sleep, but she was too late. Sighing and returning her attention to Big Mac, she said, “It’s ten after; we have just enough time to catch the next train to Canterlot. C’mon Big Mac, we got a unicorn to talk to, and an earth-pony to save!”
“It’s not like her life’s in danger,” Big Mac replied as both he and Twilight started out for the front gates of the farm.
“No, but her livelihood is,” Twilight responded. The stallion next to her nodded in agreement, and they both went out the gate and made for Ponyville Station, determined to bring back this ‘Dreamcatcher’ unicorn, for Applejack’s sake.