Applejack breathed in.
She breathed out.
She breathed in.
One ear twitched.
Then the other.
Skittering legs. A random spider crawled across her neck.
The mare's eyes fluttered open. She saw nothing but tree bark.
"Grnnngh—!" She leaned back from where her face had been pressed against the trunk of an apple tree. She brushed the spider off and spat specks of dust out of her muzzle. Shaking her head with a flounce of her blond ponytail, the mare looked around.
It was early morning. The grass of Sweet Apple Acres glistened with dew. All around her were buckets half-filled with apples.
The mare blinked.
She had fallen asleep in mid-bucking.
"Mrmmffff..."
The mare sighed. Heavily.
She shifted her weight—only to wince from the pain in her bandaged forelimb. Her muzzle scrunched and unscrunched. Applejack raised her good hoof up to feel her face. There were several gnarled impressions made by the constant contact of tree bark against her coat.
Another sigh.
Applejack turned around, teetering on stiff limbs. She squinted at the nearby fields—at the trees and trees that remained untouched. More apples hung off the branches than she could count. The mare was exhausted—and her stomach was empty.
"... ... ..." Applejack looked at the baskets lying next to her. She exhaled. Turning, she glanced at the heart of the homestead. Her emerald eyes fell on the wagons covered in tarps—full of fruit. She tongued the inside of her muzzle.
Cl-Click!
Applejack finished harnessing herself to the foremost wagon full of fruit.
Exhaling sharply, she faced the entrance to Sweet Apple Acres and took a bold step.
Her hoof scuffed against the soil and she fell flat on her muzzle.
"Ooomf!"
Applejack winced—dangling from the harness. With tensing muscles, she picked herself back up. She flung an angry glance at the wagon behind her... then calmed herself with even breaths.
A minute later, she stepped forward again—slowly this time. It took a great deal of muscle power, and the pressure applied to her fetlocks was excrutiating, but the petite teenager was finally able to get the wagon full of harvested fruit moving.
The pace was nightmarishly sluggish, but Applejack managed the best she could. Once she cleared the front gate of Sweet Apple Acres and got onto the dirt road leading into Ponyville, the wheels of the wagon met even traction, and soon she was approaching the heart of town at an appreciable speed.
It didn't stop the rising sun from roasting the air around her, and Applejack sweated the whole way through.
A sales clerk in a blue apron stood outside of Barnyarn Bargains, taking stock of a recent delivery of shipping crates. The young stallion's ears tickled to the sound of grinding wagon wheels. He looked up, blinking.
Huffing and puffing, Applejack rolled to a stop with the wagon. She took a brief moment to catch her breath, then unhitched herself. "H-howdy," the mare wheezed.
"Uhhhhhh..." The clerk fidgeted awkwardly. He glanced at the commercial district of Ponyville, then back at the tiny blonde. "Can I help you?"
"Where's... Filthy... Rich...?" Applejack stammered.
"Mr. Rich?" The stallion blinked. "He's out on a business meeting. With the Town Mayor."
"Right. Of course." Applejack shuddered as she lowered the back panel of the wagon. "Whatever. Just deliver a message for me, will ya?"
"Whoah whoah whoah—" The clerk waved a clipboard at the mare and her wagon. "Do you have a delivery order for all of that—?"
"These here are Sweet Apple Acres apples," Applejack said in a growling tone. "The harvest bounty is due in three days. This here's the first shipment."
"But I-I can't just—"
"You tell Filthy Rich..."" Applejack peeked around the edge of the wagon, glaring daggers at the young stallion. "...that I'll be making more deliveries. And the rest of the fruit—as requested—will all be here in less than three days. That's the honest truth. Got it?"
The clerk gulped, smiling crookedly. "Y-yes ma'am."
"Good." Applejack grunted, heaving the first of several baskets out of the wagon and laying it behind the back of the store. "Now this will only take a sec..."
"Here." The clerk placed his clipboard down on a stack of crates and trotted over. "Let me help you with—"
"No!" The teenager barked, causing the employee to flinch again. Clearing her throat, Applejack reiterated: "I've got it. This here's Sweet Apple Acres stock until it's out of the wagon. Y'hear?"
"Uh... sure thing, ma'am."
"I'll be back later this afternoon..." Applejack managed between wheezing breaths, pulling the baskets out and stacking them. "Just you wait."