Foalsitting duties fell upon Applejack, and she didn’t mind in the slightest. She and Pinkie Pie roamed the town, having themselves a good look’n’see, with Boomer, Sumac, and Pebble in tow. There was a lot to see, but the big attractions hadn’t yet settled in on the first day of the festival. There were a few rides, and Applejack eyed those with anticipation.
Sumac, a gentlecolt, carried a parasol in his magic, something he was accustomed to doing. With Vinyl being an albino and Pebble being so sun sensitive, he was always holding up a parasol for one or both of them. The colt wasn’t bothered at all about holding a frilly, lacy parasol and he walked with his head high.
Pinkie Pie was rather sedate, which worried Applejack, and as the mare trotted along the dusty road, she wondered how to bring up the subject without sounding like an overbearing busybody—Applejack didn’t want to be mistaken for Rarity. There were also the foals to think about—Applejack saw Boomer as a foal and not so much a dragon.
After much lip chewing and worry, Applejack settled on the direct approach. “Pinkie Pie, you should be all happy but you seem as out of sorts as a two tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.” As Applejack spoke, she heard Pinkie sigh and the pink mare bobbed her head.
“I’m worried, Applejack.”
“Well, why are you worried?” Applejack’s drawl grew a little thicker from concern and her words stretched out like taffy.
Some of the bounce in Pinkie Pie’s trot vanished and a few curls went limp as she slowed. She blinked a few times, and Applejack saw all of the warning signs that something wasn’t quite right. Her eyes darted to the left and she saw Sumac looking up at Pinkie, and Pebble as well. Boomer, on the other hoof, was doing her protective little sister act, and she had her eyes on the crowd around them, ready for trouble if it came.
By Applejack’s reckoning, pound for pound, there wasn’t much that was more fierce in all of Equestria than Boomer Apple, and this was a source of pride for Applejack, who took every chance she could to boast about it.
“Applejack, Cheese is gonna be here tomorrow,” Pinkie Pie said in a voice that was difficult to hear over the crowd.
“Oh.”
“No, Applejack, it isn’t what you think.”
“Pinkie, why don’t you tell me what it is, so that I don’t have to make a fool outta myself, guessing and getting it wrong.”
There was a sigh from Pinkie Pie, who drooped and stared down at the road. Her tail twitched a bit, along with one ear, and she licked the dust from her lips with her bright orange tongue. Feeling just a little annoyed, Applejack wished that Pinkie Pie would just spit it out and quit messing around. The sooner she got it all out, the sooner she would feel better.
“Ain’t you a bit sweet on ol’ Cheese?” Applejack asked, her drawl now as thick as molasses in February.
“Yeah”—Pinkie nodded—“and that’s just the problem, Applejack.”
“I don’t understand.” Applejack didn’t understand, not in the slightest, and even though she loved Pinkie, there was just so much about her that didn’t make a lick of sense.
“Applejack,” Pinkie began as she lifted her head and looked at the mare beside her. “The problem is, Cheese isn’t the type to settle down. He’s the wandering type. He goes and he wanders the frontiers, doing what his cutie mark tells him to do, and that’s a big, big problem.”
Applejack waited, hoping that Pinkie would explain.
“Every year, Equestria’s borders grow just a little and the frontiers keep getting pushed farther and farther out,” Pinkie Pie said, rewarding Applejack’s patience. “That’s the nature of frontiers, they don’t stay in one place, and neither does Cheese Sandwich. And when I think about him, I think about myself, and it makes me sad.”
“I don’t get it.” Applejack was starting to feel thirsty, it was hot, dusty, and she was nervous from being in unfamiliar territory with Pinkie Pie.
“He’s a party pony, and I’m a party pony… and I’ve come to realise, party ponies aren’t good ponies to settle down with.” A few more of Pinkie’s curls sagged and there was an alarmed inhale from Pebble. “He and I were doomed from the start, Applejack. He can’t stay in one place and I can’t seem to settle down and be responsible. No wonder nopony wants me.”
“Pinkie… I… you can’t just say that…” Applejack’s words trailed off when she came to the conclusion that she didn’t have a convincing argument ready to change Pinkie Pie’s mind.
“I’m going to see Cheese, and he and I are going to talk, and my heart is going to feel all squishy for him, and I’ll do the same old song and dance of trying to convince him to stay just a little while longer, and he’ll get frustrated, because he wants to stay, but he can’t. He just can’t. The festival will end and Cheese will return to the frontier and I’ll return to Ponyville, and I’ll just bury myself in parties to make myself feel better, because that is what my cutie mark expects of me, and at some point, I’ll convince myself that everything is okay and that I’m happy. Another year or two will pass and I’ll keep getting older. And someday, I’ll see Cheese again, and we’ll laugh about all of this, because, what else can we do?”
Turning her glance downward, Applejack saw Pebble looking up at her. Applejack knew from experience that Pebble had to be worried and maybe even a little fearful. She was out of her league and she knew it. No amount of earthy wisdom or pithy words could fix this, and Applejack felt the keen sting of feeling disappointed with herself. Pinkie Pie was in trouble, and Applejack couldn’t see anything that she could do about it.
Frustrated, Applejack grumbled, “Oh, nuts and gum…”
Sitting on a padded wooden stool, Twilight Sparkle signed an autograph. The line was long and stretched out of sight around a corner. Rainbow Dash was supposed to be here beside her, to help chat up the crowd and to be Rainbow Dash, but the flighty pegasus had slipped away. At least Fluttershy was sticking around, much to Twilight’s relief, but she wasn’t much for talking to the crowd. She just sort of waved and made a lot of squeaky sounds.
A nervous looking stallion hoisted a tiny filly up onto the table and then stood there, looking flustered and embarrassed. Twilight looked the filly in the eye, that was important, and she extended her hoof so she could wave. The little filly watched with wide-eyed adoration.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” Twilight replied. “What’s your name?”
Blinking, the tiny yearling filly looked rather startled that a princess wanted to know her name. She backed up a step and would have fallen right off of the table if her father hadn’t stopped her, planting his broad hoof into the middle of her precious little backside.
“Her mother called her Mizuna,” the stallion said as his eyebrows rose and fell. “My wife traveled a bit and got herself a fancy education. Little Mizuna has some trouble saying her own name.”
“You have a beautiful name,” Twilight said, making small talk.
“Thank you,” the tiny earth pony filly squeaked.
“And good manners, too!”
Looking bashful, the filly shuffled around and made little hoofy-kicks as Twilight signed her name on a glossy photograph. The quill moved with a few well-practiced strokes and then, struck with inspiration, Twilight added a personal touch.
Mizuna, I hope you grow up to be as curious as your mother. Go and see the world. Travel. Always push to see what is just beyond the horizon.
With a flash of magic, Twilight dried the ink, then rolled up the photo, and with great care, she slipped it into a decorative plastic tube and held it out to the filly. She took it, holding it in her teeth, it was a bit too big and ungainly for her though. She passed it to her father, who slipped it into his saddlebag.
“Thank you for coming to see me, Mizuna. I hope we meet again.” While Twilight was speaking, Spike, being the dutiful assistant that he was, dropped another stack of photographs down upon the table.
“You’re a nice princess,” Mizuna said as her father lifted her up and placed her upon his back. She waved goodbye, smiling, and then clung to her father’s neck. “Goodbye, Princess!”
A strange calm had settled over Pinkie, which left Applejack feeling a might worried. A calm Pinkie was a cause for concern, or so Applejack reckoned. Pinkie was even smiling, though Applejack had trouble telling if it was a real smile or a fake one. Still, Pinkie did seem to be enjoying herself after getting a few things off of her barrel.
The warning signs persisted though, and Applejack was wise to them. They had passed by a cotton candy vendor and Pinkie Pie had made nary a peep. She hadn’t freaked out or made a big deal about any of the sugary treats that were all around.
And then, without warning, Pinkie Pie reacted to something, but it wasn’t food. Applejack hurried to follow after Pinkie, wondering what had drawn her attention, and Applejack was more than just a little relieved to see Pinkie pronking. She checked on the little ones and was glad to see them keeping up.
Pinkie’s pronking lead her to a booth where an earth pony and a young adult buffalo were sitting together. Applejack had herself a look around and saw a banner strung between two poles that said, “The Unity League.”
“Hiyas,” Pinkie said, offering up a chirpy greeting. “What’s this?”
“We’re the Unity League,” the earth pony replied as he pointed up at the banner hung over his head. “Our goal is to inform everyone that we have more in common than we think. The earth ponies and the buffalo actually have a shared, common heritage.”
“How so?” Pinkie asked, her head tilting off to one side.
Applejack said nothing—something had caught Pinkie Pie’s attention and for this, Applejack was grateful. Pinkie was a mare that needed distractions, and this was a fine distraction indeed. Sighing, Applejack ignored the sweat rolling down her sides and dripping down to the dusty road. She thought to herself that maybe it was time to get a drink, once this was over.
“We share a common bit of mythology,” the buffalo said in a strange, clipped accent that wasn’t the usual drawl common in Equestria’s southern reaches. It sounded a bit more like Fancy and a blend of Canterlot twang. “Though we might be two different tribes and two different species, we both share the myth of the Three Sisters.”
“Ooh, what’s the Three Sisters?” Pinkie Pie quivered with anticipation for a good tale.
“I learned this in my pre-college preparation courses.” Pebble’s ears angled forwards and she said nothing else, offering up no further elaboration. She took a step away from Sumac as it was just too hot to be too close to anypony at the moment.
“The earth pony tribe from the old world, before we came to Equestria, believed in the Three Sisters—corn, beans, and squash. Three spirit sisters that worked together to keep harmony in the land and the soil.” The earth pony made a gesture with his hoof and he glanced over at Boomer for a moment, because the little dragoness was eyeing him.
“The buffalo also believe in the Three Sisters,” the buffalo said, “which is amazing, because we were two tribes separated by an ocean and vast distance. But at some point, perhaps far, far back in the distant past, our tribes must have had some form of contact.”
“Neat!” Pinkie Pie’s blue eyes glittered as she listened with rapt attention.
“It is a growing practice that preserves the land,” the earth pony began. “The corn grows tall, giving the beans and the squash a place to climb. But corn drains the soil of life and makes it dusty. Beans grow, climbing the corn, and the beans give life back to the soil. The squash grows around the bottom, covering the ground with runners, holding down the topsoil and preventing it from washing or blowing away. The squash is also aggressive, and it chokes back weeds.”
Lifting up her left front hoof, Pinkie Pie began tapping it against her chin as her face contorted from concentration. Applejack couldn’t help but feel a little mystified, she herself grew corn, beans, and squash together, it was just common sense. She had never heard of the Three Sisters before, but she knew the reasons for the practice. The corn allowed the beans to grow without poles and kept them away from the bugs on the ground. The beans put nitrogen back into the soil, which the corn drained out. The squash kept the dirt black and moist, which kept the dirt down on the ground, where it belonged, and out of the air or off the kitchen floor, for that matter.
Applejack might not have been the shiniest bit of corn in the meadow muffin, but she was no dummy. She had paid attention in school when it came time to learn earth pony farming practices and she had picked herself up a little science from Twilight over the years. It was a matter of pride, really—Applejack had bragging rights for producing some of the highest yields based on the square acreage of land. She did more with less and she never missed a chance to brag about it.
“Do you think it was the centaurs?” Pinkie asked, confusing poor Applejack to no end.
The buffalo, looking startled, shifted and almost fell off of his stool. “Uh, that’s been discussed, actually,” he replied as he stared at Pinkie Pie. “At Canterlot University, where I work as a professor, there has been much academic debate about that subject, if the centaurs created mythology and religion as a means to pass on important information through the generations.”
“Thought so!” Pinkie Pie cried out in a sing-song voice. “Twilight is always accusing me of not paying attention when she goes off on one of her tangents about centaurs, but usually I’m baking or cooking and keeping my hooves busy and when my hooves are busy I can actually pay attention better and I remember every single word she says, and she has a lot to say about the centaurs and how much they’ve engineered everything to try and ensure our survival.”
Startled, the earth pony beside the buffalo stared at Pinkie, and so did Applejack.
“This is great, that we have so much in common! I want to join your league and offer support. How much is it?” Pinkie Pie, overcome with excitement, bounced in place and clicked her hooves together.
“Well,” the earth pony replied, “we offer yearly subscriptions and a lifetime subscription, if you are interested…”