Zap Apple Chaos
The howls of the timberwolves signaled the coming of Zap Apple season. A young Crispin was awoken by the clanging of pots and pans, hearing his mother and great-grandmother shouting that ‘the zap apples are coming’. As he sleepily rose from his bed, the chipper voice of his elder sibling, Honeycrisp, repeated the call happily like a youthful echo. Crispin yawned audibly as he tried to join in, letting out a sleepy cheer as he flirted with awakening briefly. Tiredness won out however, and the colt quietly turned over to go back to his dreamscape.
It was the third Zap Apple season he could remember, though he never cared for the first sign’s ‘brashness’. He’s been repeatedly told of the importance of the clanging, though he wished the timing could be better. Despite the rude awakening, it’s worth it to see the zap apples appear, and even better worth it once they can make their signature zap apple products.
A smile spread on Crispin’s muzzle as his thoughts filled with zap apples, zap apple pies, and zap apple jam. He drifted off into a sweet, colorful dream as sleep overtook him once more.
“No Maaa, Ah couldn’ eat ‘nother bite…”
“Crispiiiiiiiiin wake up wake up! C’mon sleepy head, don’t yah wanna see the second sign?”
The shaking from his sister startled him out of his dream, causing him to look around in a panic.
“AK! Ah' didn’t eat all the zap apple jam Ah' swear!"
Crispin exchanged a confused stare with the bemused mare beside him. A small blush formed over his cheeks as embarrassment set in.
"…Oh, mornin’ Sissy'…” he muttered, sheepishly. She grinned back at him, her blue-green eyes filled with excitement.
“Ma says the second sign can happen any minute! Come on-come on!” she replied, shaking him a little more before hurrying out the door.
He yawned, stumbling out of bed after rubbing an eye. After taking a moment to stretch and run a foreleg over his mane, he followed his sister outside.
The anticipation was tiring as the Apple Family sat outside by the zap apple trees. Crispin looked around at the ponies gathered for the fourth time, boredom setting in. To his right he saw Great-Granny Smith, his mother Applejack and father Caramel, and off to the side he could see Uncle Mac and Aunt Fluttershy, while his cousin Applebee sat with his sister, Honeycrisp. To his left, Aunt Applebloom and Uncle Featherweight sat, having little Cameo bundled up in Applebloom’s forelegs, the young unicorn sleeping soundly.
A small yawn escaped the green colt’s lips, which he tried to cover with a hoof. He knew better than to ask when the leaves would come, though he felt as if something was off. Thankfully his mother spoke up for him and broke the silence.
“Um....Granny, don’t yah think the leaves shoulda sprouted by now?” she asked, worry showing in her green eyes. The elder mare squinted at the trees, a low frown visible on her features as she scooted forward in her wheelchair.
“Quite odd, Ah’ll admit…” she croaked, scrutinizing the bare branches, as well as the clear sky. She brought a hoof to her ear, rubbing it a bit as she looked back to her granddaughter.
“You were there with me, Applejack. Didn’t ya hear them there timberwolf howls? Ah coulda swore…unless my hearin’s startin’ to go…” she asked, slowly turning back to the family, continuing to rub her ears.
Applejack nodded. “Clear as day, Granny. Er, well, night, eheh…” she chuckled a bit, but soon resumed her worried expression.
“Oh my…this hasn’t happened before has it?” Fluttershy asked nervously, still a tad new to the customs on the farm.
“Ee'Nope…” the tall stallion beside her replied, frowning as he shook his head.
“Well, let’s not jump to conclusions now.” piped Applebloom, looking to her siblings.
“Maybe the second sign’s comin’ a bit late this year. Kinda jumpin’ the lasso a bit, ain’t we?” she finished, smiling a bit to try and lighten the worry.
Applejack and Big Mac nodded slowly, the former shuffling her hoof sheepishly. “Ah say we wait!” declared the Apple matriarch, wheeling herself back to her family as she held her aged head high.
The sky began to turn orange as the Apples went out once more to check the zap apple trees. Not a leaf in sight.
“Somethin’s wrong…” Applejack muttered, looking from the trees to her family.
“The second sign should be here by now…the timberwolves have made their howls!”
The orange mare paced back and forth, trying to think of what it could be. Crispin watched his mother with worried eyes, his ears flicking when a thought dawned on him. “Uhm…are we sure that the first sign actually happened?” he asked. Applejack nodded her head as she paced. “Yeah, I heard howls. Faint howls, but howls…” she replied.
“Were them howls timberwolf howls though? Doesn’t the season require it to be those?” he continued, having not been able to hear them himself.
Granny Smith responded this time.
“They were low, but I’m sure as spit that they were-"
A low howl cut her off.
“Like that…” she finished, turning her head. The others turned towards the sound, fear running through their bodies when a form lumbered towards them. It lifted it’s head, letting out another howl, before panting happily, albeit slowly as it’s fluffy tail wagged calmly. The entire family responded with cocked eyebrows, tilted heads, and in-sync voices.
“....Winona?”
The old dog yawned and slowly laid her body to the ground, her drooped eyes still showing happiness in them as she panted. She leaned her head back and let out another low howl. Many ears drooped as a cold feeling washed over the Apples.
“It…was Winona…” stuttered Applejack, feeling some warmth rise to her cheeks and ears as embarrassment hit her like a freight cart.
“Well…now we know why the leaves didn’t sprout, huh?” mused the pale yellow earth pony, a sheepish grin masking her features, ears lowered.
“Eeeeyup…eheh…” Mac chuckled, relieved, albeit seeing the embarrassment in his sister’s eyes and sharing the look. Crispin frowned as he looked to his sister, who bore the same expression.
“So…this mean that it’s not Zap Apple season Granny?” the brunette-maned mare asked as she turned to her elder.
“Not yet, youngin’s…but should be soon, just you wait now.” answered Granny Smith, smiling reassuringly.
Crispin looked to the sky, seeing the purple begin to overtake the orange. “C’mon, let’s turn in for the night. Maybe Zap Apple season will happen over the next few days.” Applejack nodded as she sighed out the suggestion, leading the family back to the house.
Crispin looked out to the bordering forest as night slowly overtook evening. The chancing flicker of green amidst the shadows sent his heart alight with fear of the darkness and it's denizens. His ears lowered as he turned, hurrying behind Honeycrisp and Applebee as they headed inside.
As the night wore on, Crispin tossed and turned in his bed. Both disappointment and nerves tore at his mind, forcing sleep into the realm of impossibility. Laying back with a huff, he stared up at his ceiling, trying to count crystal ewes. He got up to twenty when he heard a howl, nearly ripping the soul out of him with fright. He looked out his window with wide eyes, the farm bare of any ponies. The howl sounded again, and a rush of excitement went through him as he hurried to his sister, shaking her.
“Honey! Honey! The timberwolves are howlin’!” he bleated, hushed but excited.
The golden mare turned slightly, barely awake, lightly pushing him off with a hoof.
“Crispin it’s jus Winona…go back ta' sleep…” she slurred, turning back over.
Crispin frowned, standing next to her bed still.
"Winona’s in the house…this is definitely a timberwolf howl..."
Crispin took a moment to fully think his theory through, looking outside before quietly making his way downstairs.
He hurried to the kitchen, grabbing a couple pots and pans, figuring he’d wake the farm for it. He felt old enough to do so, and the thought excited him further as he carefully galloped outside, trying to hush his hoofsteps. The howls continued on as he tried to stand, getting into position. Grinning to himself, he grasped the pan in his teeth and swung into the pot with a reverberating crash. As he clanged the pots and pans, he realized that he got a big pot…too big for a young colt to hold in one hoof. As he went to bash them again, its momentum overcame his grip and the worked metal flew out of his hoof, tumbling and rolling straight into the forest, crashing through the brush before disappearing from view.
“NO! THAT’S THE CIDER POT!”
Without thinking, he dropped the pan he was holding, it causing a loud clang due to it hitting a rock, and chased after the pot. He caught up to it after a few moments of running, catching his breath as he took hold of it once more. It was only now that he noticed the darkness around him, the foliage and tall trees nearly blocking the night sky. He looked around, and only then felt a cold chill grip him as he realized that he couldn’t see Sweet Apple Acres. A whimper escaped his maw as he looked around with wide eyes, trying to not panic.
“S-Stay calm now Crispin…do what Ma says…retrace mah steps…” the calmed, slow thought barely helped steady his nerves, keeping hold of the pot as he backed up.
A howl murdered the silence, forcing the young colt to jump in fear. Crispin instinctively cried out before hushing himself, breaking into a run. He ran at a slow pace due to only having three legs available, but he hobbled along, fear and adrenaline coursing through his veins. Hearing the rustling of foliage behind him caused him to hobble faster, whimpering between pants. He went deeper into the forest, the darkness beginning to blind him as he ran.
Suddenly his hoof hit a rock, tripping him over. He felt a sudden stinging as his legs scraped against the twigs and rocks below, the pot hitting his neck and chest as he fell on it, winding himself. He gasped for air, his eyes widening further as he tried to scramble back up, tears welling at the corners of his eyes as he struggled. His eyes slowly adjusted, though he couldn’t see as far as he’d like to, the world more than a meter ahead of him being a nightmarish blur. The bushes in front of him rustled, forcing him to scoot back against a tree, clinging to the pot as he shook.
Tears slid down his cheeks as he looked around, his body sore from his fall. As he cried, he heard something faint carry over the wind. Straining his ears, he heard the familiar voices of his mother, father, and sister; no louder than distant pings of rain drops. Hope welled in his chest as more voices joined in, and his tears went from fear to happiness as he struggled to sit up, hope swelling in spite of his fear. Clearing his dry throat, he tried his best to call over to them.
“MOM! DAD! I’M HERE!”
As he sucked in air to shout once more, the bushes rustled violently, catching his attention for a split second before a giant shape launched itself at him. The would-be shout turned to a bloodcurdling scream as Crispin narrowly avoided the attacker with a tumble to the side, stumbling over the pot in his haste. He turned, and saw the familiar timber and haunting green eyes of the timberwolf. Gasping, he screamed out again as the timberwolf growled, turning to face the terrified colt.
Crispin tried to get to his hooves, but as he turned, more pairs of green eyes morphed out of the shadows, surrounding him in a symphony of fear. A chorus of snarls and growls filled the area as they closed in on him, some licking their wooden lips in anticipation. Panicking, the young colt searched for a way out, finding nothing until he remembered the pot. He grabbed it and raised a hoof, bringing it down as hard as he could onto its side and loosing a loud CLANG.
The wolves snarled, backing away and shaking their heads as he continued to hit the pot, the sound driving them back. Taking his chance, he seized a half second to aim before he threw the pot at a nearby tree to make one final crash, bolting off in the now wolf-free direction. Pain coursed through his legs with each step, but he feared the pain he’d face against those wolves should he take a moment to look behind him or slow down.
He crossed pathways, leaped over rocks and logs, stumbled against the foliage, all in his haste to get home; praying the forest wasn't distorting his sense of direction, and that he was going the right way. As he moved, he could hear his family clearly, and tried to follow their calls. The area around him started to clear as he galloped, and when he looked ahead, he could barely see the familiar red barn in the distance; a crimson sentinel beckoning him home. A small smile crossed his chapped lips, ready to call out again when he felt a sudden weight his him, causing him to meet the hard ground.
The air was knocked from him again, only giving him a small yelp as his eyes opened. Loud growls could be heard above him, and the stabbing of sticks in his flesh made him realize what tackled him, causing him to scream in fear. He tried to wriggle his way out, but his body started to grow weak as tears streamed from his reddened eyes. The timberwolf snarled loudly as it put a sharp paw to the young colt’s back, holding him in place as it lunged it‘s head downward.
Crispin felt a horrid pain on his right ear, crying out as he felt the wolf’s splintered teeth pierce it in a bite. The little colt yanked his head in vain as he tried to pull away, inadvertently timing it to a yank that the wolf made. The action caused a piece to get torn from his ear, the area throbbing and stinging as he cried. He made one final scream as the wolf snarled out, and just as it was about to end him, the timberwolf grew silent.
The green colt looked up quickly in prayer, seeing a lasso tied tightly around the timberwolf’s snout. He quickly looked back, seeing his aunt on the other end of the rope. The thundering of hooves could be heard as a furious orange mare leaped over him, tackling the wolf off of him. “Crispin! MOVE!” ordered Applebloom, holding the rope in her teeth as she planted her hooves in the dirt. He scrambled away, stumbling past Applebloom and to his Uncle, looking back in traumatized fear.
Applejack wrestled with the beast, using her powerful hind legs to buck at it.
“LEAVE HIM ALONE, YA VARMINT!” she shouted, grunting as she landed more blows. The timberwolf struggled against its binds, suddenly breaking free from them, using its freedom to weave around a kick and lunge at the Earth Pony.
“MA!”
Applejack ducked out of the way, whipping around and landing a blow to its face, shattering it’s jaw as she snorted. She stomped herself towards it to chase the creature off, but soon many howls were heard. The pack had caught up with their packmate, and they were not happy. Snarling and snapping, they closed in on the group. Applejack, Applebloom, and Big Macintosh stood their ground, blocking Crispin from them.
“Crispin, get back home, NOW.” she ordered, keeping her eyes on the snarling wolves. Crispin gulped, trying to keep a sob down as he stuttered.
“B-But Ma…wha-at about you?!”
“Don’t worry about us and listen to me! Get home and STAY there! Understood?!” she barked, turning her head for a moment to show her seriousness.
At this moment, the lead wolf leapt towards them, aiming it’s claws at the orange mare. Crispin screamed out, but right as he did a loud clang was heard.
The wolf lost focus, giving Applejack time to buck it back as the clangs continued. The pack began to back away as Crispin looked behind him, seeing Great-Granny Smith and Honeycrisp ride in, banging pots and pans together to drive off the wolves. As the Apple Family closed in, the wolves backed off, soon turning tail and running back into the forest.
Crispin was shaking by now, silence filling the area as the Apples slowly lowered their guard. The throbbing in his ear was lowered, but still noticeable and painful. Once things seemed to calm, he saw his mother turn her green eyes to him, and he could see she was not happy. She stomped over to him, making him shrink.
“Crispin Apple Cider, WHAT was goin’ through your head tonight?!” she demanded. He shuffled his tired hooves against the ground.
“I heard the wolves…and I wanted to wake the family…” Crispin answered lowly, his head shrinking lower as blood trickled down his drooped ear.
“We don’t go near the forest for that!” she scolded, pointing to his ear. “You see what happened to you?! What if we didn’t get here in time?!”
He lowered his ears slowly, tears welling up as he hiccuped. “’M sorry, Ma…Ah only went in ‘cause Ah dropped the cider pot…” he answered, lowering his head further. “Ah lost the pot…’m so sorry…”
Applejack’s gaze softened at his words, her mouth opening slightly, surprised at her son’s priorities. Moving over calmly, she pulled him into a tight hug, trying to keep any tears down as she cleared her throat to speak. “A pot can be replaced, Crisp…you can’t be…”
Crispin looked up to his mother, seeing the worry and care in her eyes as she looked back to him. Her voice cracked as she spoke, gently resting her hoof on his cheek.
“Ah thought Ah was gonna lose you…”
She looked to his hurt ear, tenderly touching it. “We’ll get this patched up for ya…just, come get me next time?” she asked, tears of relief and suppressed worry lining her eyes.
He nodded, his own tears falling as he clung to his mother, burying his face into her warm fur as his trembling lessened.
A few days later, the Apple Family gathered around the zap apple trees as the sun began to set. Crispin’s ear was wrapped up, as well as having some left over bandages on his legs, but he was smiling as he looked up. The flowers were in bloom, and the trees were sparking as the sun set lower. Soon the meteors began to fall, creating a beautiful shower over the trees and across the evening sky.
A chorus of ‘oooh’s and ‘aaahh’s came from the Apples as they sat and watched the shower. This was always Crispin’s favorite sign. Sitting on the lawn and watching it with his family always made him smile. Blue sparks began to encase the trees, and the flowers soon produced the grayed zap apples.
“Tomorrow is harvest day…tomorrow Ah can help make the food!” Crispin jumped up a little in hushed excitement, this being his first year helping with it in full.
The shower ended after a few moments, and the zap apple trees were all adorned in round, gray apples. The family smiled proudly as they turned, knowing that tomorrow would be a big day for them all, the day a chorus of rainbow overtook the groves. Crispin knew he’d have to sit out due to his leg injuries, but so long as he could help cook, he was happy.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
“What a harvest that was…can’t believe it’s been a year…” he thought to himself, looking at the photo album in his hooves. The pictures from that year had contained all the antics of the harvest: the harvest itself, the preparation and cooking of the many zap apple items, and the big meal afterwards. In them, Crispin was clad in his bandages, but was happy as could be.
He smiled to himself as he closed the book, enjoying his reminiscing, when a familiar howl broke his thoughts. Eyes growing wide, he quickly looked out the window as a few more howls broke the silence. A chill ran through him as he lowered a bit, fear gripping his chest as he trembled a bit. His scarred ear twitched, causing him to wince as a phantom pain returned to his ear, ushering him to bite his lip.
After a moment, he felt a hoof on his shoulder, causing him to look over quickly. He was met with the concerned face of his sister, and he slowly eased himself.
“Doin’ alright, Crisp?” Honey asked before she tilted her head. He nodded slowly, looking out to see his older family members going out to beat the pots and pans. Honeycrisp followed his gaze, understanding what caused this sudden panic.
“It’s alright, lil brother…they won’t get ya in here. Ma won’t let that happen. Ah won’t neither…” she comforted, turning back to him and smiling. He smiled back, hugging her tightly. Crispin snuggled into his sister's warm fur as his smile beamed.
“Thanks Sissy'…”