//------------------------------// // Chapter 2: It Came from the Dirt // Story: Horseradish // by Unwhole Hole //------------------------------// It did not take long to gather the necessary materials, or the necessary books. Applebloom seemed quite intrigued by the whole process, and Sweetie Belle had nothing better to do. Scootaloo, being Scootaloo, definitely had nothing better to do.             The whole setup took about an hour. Sweetie Belle examined her book- -“Arcane Alchemy & Demonic Summoning for Little Fillies”- -and confirmed that the picture matched their setup.             “Alright,” she said, pointing. “So, we tie the horseradish to a rope, like that.”             “Yeah,” said Applebloom, having already done that.             “And the other end to a dog.”             Both of them looked at Winona, Applebloom’s dog, who was smiling and panting, glad to be given some kind of attention. She had been tied to the far end of the rope.             “So then we go over there,” said Sweetie Belle. “And you call Winona. When she runs toward you, the rope will pull out the horseradish. But since we’ll be over there, we’ll be too far to hear the scream.”             “Okay…and dogs are immune to it, I guess?”             Sweetie Belle’s face scrunched. “Sure…” She lifted the book, showing Applebloom the medieval illumination that showed a poorly drawn version of what they were about to do. “See? Everything’s just like it is in the book!”             “Well…okay…”             Sweetie Belle led her friend to the treeline, and they hid behind a large apple tree. Applebloom told Winona to stay, but when she got behind the tree, she began to look around.             “Where’s Scootaloo?” she said.             “I think she got carried off by vampire fruit bats,” said Sweetie Belle dismissively.             Almost on cue, Scootaloo dropped out of the tree and hit the ground with a painful sounding thud. She landed directly on her wings, but they were so small that they remained uninjured.             “They didn’t want me,” sighed Scootaloo.             “So what else is new?” Sweetie Belle turned to Applebloom. “Okay Applebloom. Call Winona.”             “Alright,” replied Applebloom, sounding hesitant. She turned to Winona. “Winona! Come here, girl! Come here!”             Winona’s ears priced, and she smiled even wider. She came bounding toward Applebloom, happy and oblivious. Then, suddenly, the rope went taught.             “YEEP!” cried Winona, a look of betrayal and confusion crossing her face as she was pulled back by the rope and onto her back.             “Winona!” cried Applebloom, racing to her dog’s side.             “Darn it,” said Sweetie Belle, looking at the plant that Winona was attached to. It remained firmly imbedded in the ground. “It didn’t come up! The thing must be huge...” she turned to Applebloom. “I guess we’re going to have to try again.”             “Luna’s dysplastic hips you’re going to try again!” swore Applebloom. She cradled Winona in her forelegs. “Look what you did to poor Winona! You choked my dog!”             “I didn’t mean to!” protested Sweetie Belle.             “It doesn’t matter if  you wanted to or not! Look how sad she looks now!”             Sweetie Belle looked and Winona did, in fact, appear quite sad.             “Hmm…maybe if we tried Scootaloo instead? She’s marginally bigger than Winona.”             “We’re not choking Scootaloo!”             Sweetie Belle sighed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Can you imagine what Rarity would say if she found out I was out here in the orchard choking the Scootaloo with another filly?”             “That’s not what I mean! I’ve spent the entire last month caring for that horseradish, and I don’t want you to damage it! I mean, look at it!” Applebloom pointed at the large hole in the ground in the center of the clearing. Then, slowly, both she, Sweetie Belle, and Winona turned slowly toward where there should have been a plant. The rope sat by its side, slack and untied.             “Sweetie Belle?” said Applebloom.             “Yeah?” said Sweetie Belle.             “Where’s the horseradish? It’s supposed to be there, right?”             “Yeah…”             They both slowly turned to where Scootaloo was standing. Scootaloo looked at them, smiling at first but quickly becoming confused as to why they were looking at her.             “What?” she said.             The answer became apparent, though, when she realized that they were not looking at her, but rather behind her. Scootaloo froze, feeling her wings become surprisingly erect from fear. She turned slowly.             When she saw it, Scootaloo paused for just a moment before screaming. Her scream triggered Sweetie Belle and Applebloom to scream as well. The horseradish was no longer in the ground. Instead, it was behind Scootaloo.             It was a terrifying creature, covered in dirt and brown skin reminiscent of that of a potato. Just as the legends said, it was shaped roughly like a pony, and it stood on four legs, the same that it had apparently used to pull itself out of the ground when it had been disturbed by Winona’s pulling. Despite the difficultly in removing it, though, it was not any larger than Scootaloo.             The root stared at Scootaloo, clearly confused. It had eyes, but they were not exactly like those of a pony, as if a pony’s eyes had been crossed with those of a potato. Likewise, instead of a mane it had the green portion of the plant emerging from the top of its head.             Scootaloo immediately shoved it hard, pushing it onto its side. She and the others- -including Winona- -then ran to the trees, where they hid behind them. Despite being in a panic, none of them seemed able to flee. All of them were too curious, and they peered around the trees toward the abomination behind them.             Each of them was expecting a lethal scream to emanate from it, but none came. Instead, it just lay on its side, sometimes weakly kicking its tuberous legs. It was apparently unable to right itself, and was having considerable difficulty moving back to a standing position despite its extremely patient attempts.             “It- -it’s moving,” said Sweetie Belle, now in a complete panic. “It- -it’s MOVING! Sweet alicorn clippings, it’s REAL!”             “No road apples,” swore Scootaloo in return. She grimaced. “I- -I actually touched it! It was so dirty!”             Applebloom did not speak, but stared at it, not in panic but in intense thought. Then she stepped out of the treeline.             “Applebloom!” hissed Sweetie Belle. “What are you doing?! Get back here!”             “He’s tipped over,” said Applebloom. “He needs help.”             “It’s not a ‘he’! It’s a ROOT!”             “But look at him! He looks so pitiful! And it’s not like he tried to hurt us.”             “I’m not a hundred percent sure I believe that,” said Scootaloo.             “Well, I do.” Applebloom approached the root, and then paused for a moment before reaching down and righting it. The horseradish seemed momentarily confused, and it looked around. When it saw Applebloom, though, it took a step forward.             Sweetie Belle reactively charged her horn, preparing a mashing spell. She leveled her head at the plant, but Applebloom cried out.             “Stop!” she cried. “It’s alright!”             Sweetie Belle doubted that, but she trusted her friend and held her fire. She watched as rather than attacking, the horseradish lurched forward and hugged Applebloom.             “Aww,” said Applebloom. “He has the hugs!”             “Hugs?” said Sweetie Belle, confused. The book did not have any information on the behavior of horseradishes- -just recipes- -but hugging was not what she had expected from a tuber.             “I want hugs!” said Scootaloo, stepping forward.             The horseradish looked at her, and its eyes narrowed. It glared, and then shifted Applebloom as though it were protecting her.             “What?” said Scootaloo, looking deeply hurt.             “I don’t think he likes you,” said Applebloom. “You did push him over, after all.”             “But then why does it like you?” said Sweetie Belle, stepping forward with Winona.             “I guess it’s because I’ve been taking care of him since he was just a little seedling.” Applebloom gasped. “Does this mean I’m a mom now? I didn’t expect that to happen for at least another three years!”             The horseradish looked at Sweetie Belle, and then at Scootaloo. “It’s okay,” said Applebloom. “They’re friends. Do you know what friends are?”             The root looked at her, confused and blank.             “It doesn’t have a brain,” said Sweetie Belle. “It’s a plant.”             It did seem to understand, though. It released Applebloom and stood in place. It’s reaction toward Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle had changed from distrustful to purely neutral. The group stared at it for a moment, and it stared at them.             “This…this isn’t possible,” said Sweetie Belle, shaking her head. She picked up her book from where she threw it down. “Then…then does that mean this is all true? All the alchemy, all the stories…” She looked to Applebloom. “Is that why you grew him? For your potions?”             “Potions?  No, of course not! Why would you even say that?”             “Because it says here that you can do some really cool stuff with them.”             “No! I helped him because he was so little and weak when I found him, and as an Apple, I can’t turn my back on a plant in need!” She paused. “Unless it’s a pear. You can’t trust a pear. It’s like the communist version of an apple.” She pointed at the horseradish. “And I believe it is apparent that he is not a pear.”             “It isn’t a ‘he’. It’s a plant.”             “No, he’s a HE!”             “I’ll check! I know what to look for!” said Scootaloo, bounding toward the horseradish. It watched her, slowly turning its head as she went by. Scootaloo then paused near its rear half and lifted one of its legs. It shifted its balance, allowing her to move its limb, and Applebloom and Sweetie Belle both immediately blushed.             “SCOOTALOO!” cried Sweetie Belle. “What are you doing?!”             “I’m checking for the root,” said Scootaloo. In her naïveté, she did not know why they were reacting the way they were.             “Scootaloo, he’s ALL root,” said Applebloom.             “Oh,” said Scootaloo. She stared for a second, and then stepped back. The hoseradish held its leg in an upright position until Scootaloo eventually decided to put it back down. “Well, can you blame a filly for checking?”             “Yeah. I’m pretty sure it’s a felony of some sort.”             “Oh please. I’m Scootaloo. I’ve committed, like, seven felonies since I woke up this morning.”             “And how many of them were child endangerment?” asked Sweetie Belle. “With the child being you?”             Scootaloo’s expression fell. “All of them…”             “Scoots, you’re depressing me,” said Applebloom. “And I think you’re depressing the horseradish. Happy thoughts make happy apples. And happy thoughts make…horsier horseradish?”             “I don’t think that’s how it works,” said Sweetie Belle, standing beside Scootaloo and admiring the horseradish. It did look back at her, and, strangely, it appeared to have no mouth. “This is fascinating. Gross in a way, but fascinating.” She took a deep breath and then jumped back. “Oh, wow! He smells!”             “I noticed that,” said Applebloom. “Kind of like what Granny Smith smells like when she falls asleep in the root cellar for a few days. I don’t think it’s bad, though.”             “I like them spicy,” said Scootaloo, smiling with a strange grin.