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// Chapter 5 - Day 4 
// Story: Speak From the Heart 
// by Halp 
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The steady tapping of nails into wood echoed off of the cottage walls as you assembled another birdhouse. You brushed some dust out of the corners joining the tiny roof to the walls, and inspected the birdhouse in your hands thoroughly. Satisfied, you got up and carried it to the table by the cottage, where Fluttershy was busy painting one you had already completed. She had claimed that she wasn’t very talented at painting, but you could tell that, even for solid colors, she was focusing hard on making them perfect. You walked back to your bench and sat down, ready to brush off your own makeshift table--Applejack’s cart, turned upside down--and start on the next. Despite your requests, Fluttershy had insisted that simple, square birdhouses would be the best to make; while you both had plenty of time to make fancier birdhouses, the birds, she claimed, preferred simpler abodes. You politely conceded, given that she probably knew much more about their preferences than you did.

On top of being easier to build, the design you both had settled on used little of the boards you cut from the tree, and you estimated that, by the time you and Fluttershy were done, there would be easily thirty, maybe even forty houses built, with the remaining material saved for firewood. Fluttershy was content with having one or two to add to her collection in the cottage in addition to those she would hang around the garden and nearby forest. She had planned to take the rest to Ponyville and give them away, rather than sell them. They were light enough that she could use the cart to carry them along, since you didn’t have permission to enter town with her, yet.

You had lined up the base and a wall for your next birdhouse when a voice called out from around the cottage. It sounded vaguely like Applejack, and you waited for Fluttershy to trot over to check, ready to dive into the bushes if needbe. Sure enough, Fluttershy returned with the orange mare at her side, who immediately made a beeline towards you as Fluttershy returned to her work.

“Howdy, Anon! Good to see you again,” Applejack began, casting an amused glance to your impromptu workspace. “I’m glad to see you’re making good use of the cart.” You gave her a cheeky grin, and heard Fluttershy chuckle over the brush in her mouth.

“If you’re not too busy, I was hopin’ I could borrow you for today. You know, take up that your offer that you and Fluttershy were talkin’ about. Applebuck season starts today, and we could use all the help we can get.” You nodded, and looked over to Fluttershy for approval.

“That should be fine, Anon. We’ve got more than enough birdhouses built, I’ll just finish painting these and head into town later.” she mused, taking a mental count of the stacked houses on the table. You gave her a short wave as you followed Applejack to the path in front of the cottage and into the trees nearby.

“We can take a shortcut this a’way through the forest so nopony sees you,” Applejack commented. “Twilight told me about how Celestia talked about you, but I’m not worried at all.” You saw her tilt her head up towards you and wink. You didn’t know Applejack well, but from the time you spent with her a couple days prior you knew she was a sincere, honest pony, and her trust that you were harmless was unquestionable.

Roughly twenty minutes or so of walking later, you both approached a vast clearing of farmland, the tree-lined horizon broken by a red barn and accompanying farmhouse. Beyond them were hundreds, maybe thousands of apple trees surrounded by what looked like buckets. You imagined that Applejack must have had a large family to run a place like this, without any kind of farming equipment like what humans had. The ground beneath your feet gave slightly with each step as Applejack led you across one of the fields towards the barn. Even after the torrential rain of the day before, the fields were hardly waterlogged. In fact, most of the ground you had covered on your way to Sweet Apple Acres seemed to have sucked most of the water up like a sponge, with few puddles remaining. You could hear some conversation coming from behind the partially open barn doors as you drew close, and glanced nervously down to Applejack. She paused when you tapped on her back, and gave you a confused expression when you pointed to the barn with one hand and held the other to your ear.

“That’s just my family chattin’, Anon. Don’t worry; they know too, and won’t speak a word about you,” she reassured with a smile. Not a moment later, and a tiny yellow pony with a shield-like cutie mark came bounding out of the barn. She skidded to a halt before the two of you and gazed up at you with giant, orange-red eyes. You were already accustomed to the cuteness of the average-sized ponies you had already come across, but this was a different challenge altogether. Your hand crossed your chest, and Applejack chuckled to herself at your reaction.

“Whoa, is that it? The human? It’s so tall! I’ll bet it’s as tall as Celestia is!” the filly exclaimed with a southern lilt like Applejack’s. You clutched at your chest, faintly worried you might have a heart attack any second.

“His name is Anon, Apple Bloom, and yes, he’s here to help us with the start of Applebuck Season.” Applejack replied. You rubbed your chest and let your heart rate return to normal as you watched two more ponies exit the barn. The first was definitely older than the rest; her pearl-white mane was rolled into a neat bun, and you saw that her cutie mark represented a hearty-looking apple pie. The other pony was over a head taller than her, standing at near eye-level to you. His scarlet body was much bulkier than any pony you’d seen thus far, and his apple cutie mark was enormous to match. His expression as he observed you was calm, almost peaceful- a stark contrast to the elderly mare who was pacing around you in slow circles with a squint.

“‘Anon,’ huh? Applejack here was tellin’ us about you, how you carried and helped quartersaw a whole tree. Is that right?” she questioned, stopping in front of you. You nodded quickly.

“This is Granny Smith, she’s been takin’ care of the three of us since before we can remember,” Applejack interjected. “These two are my brother and sister, Big Macintosh and Apple Bloom.”

“Quiet one, ain’t he?” Big Mac remarked with the smallest of grins.

“Well, I told you Anon here can’t quite talk right. Twilight and Celestia are figuring out how to fix it, but for now he’s just here to help out. He’s got a little board to draw on, but that’s it.” You pulled out the whiteboard in marker in your pocket to demonstrate Applejack’s statement.

“That’s so cool!” Applebloom exclaimed, examining the board--and your hands--closely. You put them away and gestured for Applejack’s attention, jerking your thumb towards the fields behind you.

“Right. Anyway, Anon’s offered to give us a couple spare… hands…” Applejack started, hesitating as she looked at you. “In return for the tools we let Fluttershy borrow. I figured he could help out with plowing the fields, on account of how strong he is.”

“Pardon?” piped up Big Mac. He raised an eyebrow to you for just a moment before returning his attention to Applejack.

“What?”

“We don’t need help plowing the fields.”

“Consarnit, Big Mac! We talked about this just before I left- you ain’t plowing the fields by yourself again, not with the harvest we’ve got this year!” Applejack chided, marching up to her brother. Even at three-quarters his height, she looked considerably more intimidating than he did. He simply turned his head away and scanned the fields.

“I’ve done it by myself every year so far.” Big Mac argued.

“Not all of it; I had to take over at the end of last year when you pulled that muscle in your back, remember?” His ears tipped back slightly as he sheepishly turned his head away from her again. Granny Smith, satisfied with her inspection of you, cleared her throat for their attention.

“Well, first, let’s see if he can even move the plow, hm?” Granny Smith suggested, pointing to another field. Near the path between the two fields sat a large, rustic field plow. The shape of the wood out of it matched the metal bits coming out of the collar around Big Mac’s neck; you realized that he was perfectly built for the job, and probably better suited to it than you. Applejack and her brother traded silent glances before nodding towards you in agreement. You ran your fingers through your hair with an exhale, and started making your way down the path. As you walked, you noticed that dirt from the field was starting to cake along the sides of your worn-down sneakers. Against your better judgement, you slipped them off and balled up your socks in each, and tossed them on the side of the path near the barn.

You gripped the wooden handle-like protrusions of the plow and tried wiggling it side to side a couple times; the plow was probably made of solid iron, and was sunk several inches into the earth from its weight alone. Trying to lift it by the pieces wood alone would likely break them. Instead, you bent down and ran one hand into the dirt along the side of the plow, searching for the bottom. The leading edge at the bottom was blunt, and although it took considerable effort to get the plow to budge, you were willing to bet you could lift it. You walked around to the broad end of the plow, and squared your stance as you dug your hands below it. Lifting with your knees, the plow rose inch by inch as you strained to steady it against your chest. While it felt unbelievably heavy, you managed to hoist it above your waist, your chest, and finally up onto your shoulder with a heavy breath.

You felt your feet start sinking slowly into the ground, and immediately stepped forward, careful to balance the uneven weight of the plow in your hands. The first few steps were awkward as you shuffled uncomfortably through the dirt, but you kept a steady, slow pace once you reached the firmer dirt path towards the Apple Family’s barn. Each one of their mouths were agape, even Big Macintosh’s, as you passed them and gingerly rolled the plow forward off your shoulder and onto the field you had crossed. You rotated your shoulder a couple times and stopped after feeling a satisfying pop, and turned back to the farm ponies with a grin.

“Well, he can certainly move it, that’s for darn sure,” Granny Smith declared, laughing. Applejack shot Big Mac a smirk and walked over to you.

“Alright, show-off, you’ve got the strength. But plowin’ these fields takes endurance, somethin’ that takes time to develop. We ain’t gonna run you ragged today, but your help will make the rest of the season easier for all of us.” Applejack remarked, waving her hoof to the field before you. “Big Mac here’ll show you how to get the plow situated properly.”

Begrudgingly, the stallion guided you to one corner of the field and gave you a brief summary of your task: pull the plow straight and steady, with a foot or so between rows. He demonstrated by hauling it once along the edge of the land, and turned back to do it once more. Big Mac had no intention of giving you his collar to use for dragging the plow behind you, but you were more than capable of pulling it backwards by hand, using the wooden struts. He observed you for several minutes, occasionally commenting about your passes, but soon left you alone to work. Meanwhile, Applejack had gone out to the orchard to buck apples from the trees, and Granny Smith and Apple Bloom were left to take stock of the barn and their cattle. As you pulled the plow along, you thought about how strange it was that, even for ponies, farms had livestock. You recalled seeing a small carton of eggs in Fluttershy’s fridge, but hadn’t paid it any mind; initially assuming that ponies were only herbivores was an honest mistake, but it was surprising nonetheless.

As you reached the halfway point of tilling the field, you could hear sharp whacks coming from the trees behind you. Applejack was still busy collecting apples. On further inspection, you noticed that the buckets beneath the trees had no handles or other means of easy transport. How she was going to move them to the barn, you had no idea. Seeing you staring, Applejack gave a short wave, to which you nodded in return before returning your focus to the plow. The heat of day was approaching as the sun started to reach its zenith, and the topmost layer of dirt was steadily drying. While pulling the plow was gradually becoming easier, your back and shoulders were actually starting to grow tired under the constant strain. Still, you forged onward, not wanting to fall behind Big Mac, who was in the adjacent field pulling a second plow. After the better part of an hour, you reached the final corner of the field, and plopped onto the ground with a huff. A light green pair of hooves appeared in your vision as you breathed heavily, and you could hear Granny Smith whistle loudly.

“I haven’t seen anypony work one of these fields that fast since I was a little filly,” she exclaimed. “You did a good job there, fella. A good job deservin’ of a good break.” You lifted your head to see her gesturing for you to follow her, and rose to your dirt-encrusted feet. She led you past the barn to the farmhouse a short walk behind it, where you could see Apple Bloom, stretching on the deck outside the farmhouse door. She quickly noticed you both approaching and dashed inside. Just as you and Granny Smith started up the ramp to the deck, Apple Bloom stepped back outside, carrying a large, purple bottle in her mouth. She offered it to you with a few muffled words you didn’t understand. The cool glass surface soothed the aching muscles in your hand as you took it from her with a grateful smile. You lowered yourself and sat on the edge of the deck, and took a sip from the bottle. The sweet and mildly tart taste of the ice-cold apple juice was absolutely refreshing. As you drank, Apple Bloom sat down next to you, while Granny Smith seated herself in a nearby rocking chair.

“So, uh, Mr. Anon?” Apple Bloom began, grabbing your attention. “Where are you from?” You met her curious stare with a quizzical expression; no one had actually asked you that since you arrived. You took out your whiteboard and marker and drew a rough doodle of Earth, but paused for a moment. You had no idea where Earth was in relation to Equestria. In fact, Celestia and Twilight had mentioned something about you coming from a different dimension entirely, whatever that meant. Hopeful that Apple Bloom’s curiosity would be satisfied, you drew another empty circle next to the drawing of Earth. Facing the whiteboard to her, you pointed with your free hand to the empty circle, and then straight down. Another point to Earth, and then you waved your hand to the open sky, shaking your head and shrugging.

“You mean… you’re from another planet? That doesn’t make any sense,” she remarked in disbelief.

“Don’t be rude now, sweetheart,” Granny Smith interjected.

“Right, I’m sorry Anon,” Apple Bloom apologized. “But if that’s true, then how did you get here?” You wiped the board clean with the edge of your shirt, and scribbled what you could remember Twilight’s cutie mark looked like. You mimicked the shape of a horn on your head to drive the point home.

“Twilight’s magic? I wonder why she brought you to Equestria.” You struggled to think of a drawing to express Twilight’s accident, and you looked back to Granny Smith in helpless frustration.

“Apple Bloom, why don’t you try askin’ him questions he can answer yes or no to, seein’ as he can’t talk.” The filly’s ears turned backwards in realization and she scratched her head in embarrassment.

“Ah, I’m sorry about that, too. I’m not used to it yet, I guess.” You waved her off nonchalantly. “How about this: did Twilight bring you here on purpose?” You shook your head, recalling the surprised alicorn’s expression.

“So it was an accident, then,” she concluded. You watched her think about your predicament, and looked down to her cutie mark- a purple striped shield emblazoned with an apple. While the other Apple family members’ cutie marks made sense to you, the idea of a shield-bearing farmer pony seemed unusual. You snapped your fingers quietly for her attention, and pointed to it with a raised eyebrow.

“My cutie mark? I got this with the Cutie Mark Crusaders!” she beamed. “We’re a group that helps out other ponies!” You nodded sagely; although she was a child, you had to admit that being a good samaritan was a noble talent.

“Do humans have cutie marks, too?” Apple Bloom inquired excitedly. Her enthusiasm deflated momentarily when you shook your head, but returned with vigor shortly after.

“I’m sure you’re good at somethin’, though! You’re super strong, at least! I’m sure you could do plenty to help ponies out!” The enormous bow in her mane flopped as she nodded her head, and you couldn’t help but laugh in agreement. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Applejack trotting up the dirt road towards the house, and gave her a friendly wave.

“Now I hope you’re not givin’ Anon here a hard time, talkin’ his ears off,” Applejack joked as she ruffled Apple Bloom’s mane with her hoof. You sat the empty bottle in your hands down and stood up to stretch your arms and back while the two sisters bickered playfully. Refreshed and ready to return to your work, you started walking back down the farmhouse ramp.

“Hold up just a minute, Anon,” Applejack blurted out, cutting her sister off. “You’re not heading back out already, are you?” You turned around and looked at her in confusion.

“You might’ve finished up that field quick like a hog chasin’ a carrot on a stick, but you can’t tell me you ain’t still tired.” You gave her an innocent smile and put your hands on your hips. She watched you for a few seconds in half-amused anticipation, and sighed.

“You might be as strong as Big Mac, but you sure aren’t half as humble,” Applejack chuckled. “Alright, I’ll tell you what. You can have at the field past the barn over there. Mac is probably finishin’ his up now, and won’t be happy about you takin’ his work, but I reckon he won’t give you much trouble.” You gave her a curt nod, and turned on your heel to return to the fields.

Throughout the afternoon, the faint sounds of hooves against wood echoed across Sweet Apple Acres as you worked the land. The field Applejack had pointed out was a bit larger than the one you were in that morning, and you had tired yourself out just from carrying the plow such a long distance. The only solace in your work came when you saw Apple Bloom come running from the barn to join you and ask more questions. Her insatiable curiosity helped you shrug off the burning sensation in your legs and shoulders, and happily defended her when Applejack started to chew her out for riding on top of the plow. The little filly didn’t add any noticeable weight to it, and you made certain that Applejack knew you were happy to have Apple Bloom’s company. You were especially grateful when, after finally finishing the field, she caught you before you could collapse from exhaustion onto the dirt path between the fields. Although considerably smaller than you, Apple Bloom managed to carry you with your feet dragging behind you all the way to the barn. You stared up at the roof, breathing raggedly and unable to move, and felt a twinge of guilt. After Apple Bloom propped you up against a pile of hay, she sprinted out in search of Applejack. Minutes later, they both trotted up to you. Applejack was carrying a small green bottle in her mouth and set it next to you on the barn floor as she looked you up and down in frustration.

“I told you we weren’t gonna run you ragged today, but it looks like you went and did it yourself,” she scolded, unscrewing the cap on the bottle with her mouth.

“A friend of mine, Zecora, made this in case Big Mac ever got heat exhaustion,” she muttered, guiding it to your mouth. “On account of how much you look like him right now, I bet you’ll want it.” You swallowed weakly as the bitter fluid poured into your mouth.

“Now, brace yourself, Anon, this might hurt a bit.” Applejack muttered, taking a few steps backward and guiding Apple Bloom towards the door. “Go get a bucket of water. Now.” You stared at her in uncertainty until you felt your limbs twitch involuntarily. Your throat and stomach immediately felt as if you had swallowed a gallon of liquid nitrogen, and you retched as the feeling spread throughout your body. Every single nerve cried out in terror, as if you had fallen into a frozen lake, and your sore muscles started to tremble uncontrollably. Suddenly, after a few seconds, your senses returned to normal and the shaking ceased. You let out a couple coughs as you pushed yourself back up in surprise, the soreness in your muscles seemingly drained away.

“I don’t understand much about potions, but that one was made ‘specially to help ponies sufferin’ from dehydration and workin’ themselves half to death. Looks like it works on humans, too,” Applejack sighed in relief, helping you steady yourself as you sat up. “You’ll be alright soon enough, but you need water in your system, otherwise you’ll collapse again.” You nodded, thankful for her help. A few minutes passed before Apple Bloom came rushing into the barn carrying a pail of water. Hearing the water slosh around inside made you painfully aware of how parched you were, and you snatched the water from her once she had approached you. It was a sizeable amount of water, but you chugged down half of the pail in one go before you stopped to take a breath, and Applejack held it away from you with her hoof as you lifted it for more.

“How’s about you save that for later, sugarcube? It’s gettin’ close to dinnertime, and I’m guessin’ you’re a mite hungry after all that work today.” she suggested. You hadn’t originally planned on staying at Sweet Apple Acres to eat, and doing so seemed counter-intuitive- hadn’t you come over in the first place to repay a favor? Sensing your indecision, Apple Bloom trotted up to you and put on her best puppy-dog pout.

“Please, could you stay for dinner? We ought to properly thank you for the hard work you did today,” she whimpered. You felt like her adorable, dinner plate-sized eyes were sucking out your soul, and you struggled to find a reason to refuse. Uncertain that you’d survive her reaction if you turned her down, you nodded your head in agreement, and pulled yourself to your feet. Apple Bloom bounced in victory, and Applejack laughed. The two ponies led you out of the barn, and you remembered to pick up your sneakers off the ground before heading towards the farmhouse. Big Macintosh was relaxing in the rocking chair on the porch, and nodded at you.

“You did good.” His expression was as neutral as usual, but you couldn’t help but beam at his comment.

Much of the evening from that point forward was quiet, save for Apple Bloom telling you about her and her friends, particularly two fillies named Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle, who were also part of her Cutie Mark Crusaders group. Listening to an elementary school student talk about their day wasn’t high on your list of entertaining things in Equestria, but you tried to enjoy the experience nonetheless.

“And that’s why we need to get the clubhouse re-shingled. I swear, I don’t know where all those squirrels came from, but they sure were angry at Scootaloo!” Apple Bloom complained. You had let most of her story flow through one ear and out the other as you sat in the living room of the farmhouse, eyes closed. The chair you’d picked was the comfiest thing you had ever been in, and you had made significant effort not to fall asleep in it seconds after you sat down. You were jolted awake by a frantic tinkling sound coming from the kitchen.

“Soup’s on! Come n’ get it!” Granny Smith called out. The dining room table was fairly small, well-suited for a family of four, with just enough room for you to sit between Granny Smith and Apple Bloom. The meal was simple- daffodil sandwiches and hay fries, the latter of which you were slowly becoming accustomed to. Hay prepared for consumption wasn’t nearly as tough as you had expected, and when served as crispy fried straws, was actually pretty tasty if you chewed them thoroughly. You mentally blamed your smaller-than-ponies’ teeth.

“So what do you think, Anon? Can you help us out?” Apple Bloom asked, interrupting your idle thoughts. You looked at her questioningly, blinking a couple times. “Help with re-shingling the CMC clubhouse, remember?” she huffed.

“Apple Bloom, don’t you think you’ve pestered Mr. Anon enough today?” Big Mac spoke up. Applejack grunted in agreement.

“We invited him here today to let him pay us back for the tools and cart we let him and Fluttershy borrow, he’s not just gonna keep workin’ for us outta the kindness of his heart,” Applejack added.

“But… but…!” Apple Bloom turned to you in desperation, and you quickly looked upwards before making eye contact, avoiding her spell.

“C’mon, now, eat up. He’s not leaving Equestria anytime soon,” Applejack reassured half-heartedly, looking at you. “I think.” You could only offer a shrug in response. Apple Bloom returned to her meal with a dejected frown, and you saw a calendar on the wall behind her. You didn’t really know what your schedule would be like from then forward, but your heart wouldn’t let you sit idly with her like that. You gestured with your hand to Granny Smith and pointed at the calendar, and then your wrist, as if pointing out a watch.

“Excuse me? Somethin’ about the calendar?” she asked between bites of sandwich. “You want to know what day it is?”

“Today’s Sunday.” Applejack replied. You pulled out your whiteboard and copied down the shape of the calendar, still unable to copy the words down. You circled the first square representing Sunday on it, and sat the board on the table for the ponies to look at.

“Yup, that’s today. What’s on your mind, sugarcube?” You pointed at the row of weekdays on your doodled calendar, and then to Apple Bloom.

“I’ve got school on those days, Anon. Why?” she questioned. Having confirmed your guess about Equestrian school schedules, you put a big X on the square that week for Saturday, and drew a crude attempt at a clubhouse. You didn’t know what one actually looked like, so you just drew a vague, boxlike house, but smaller. You finished with an arrow pointing from the X to the roof of the house, and drew little squiggles on the roof. Apple Bloom looked at the drawing, then to you, and gasped sharply with a grin. She looked towards Applejack, who was reaching the same conclusion as her sister, albeit not with the same reaction.

“Just a second, Anon. I don’t know how you know the school schedule around here, but I do know that we’ve got plenty more work to get done later this week,” Applejack asserted firmly. “Applebuck season isn’t just a day’s work, I’ll have you know, and we need all hooves on deck if we’re gonna finish up on time.”

“I’ll work extra hard this week, I promise! I wanted to get it done this weekend anyway,” Apple Bloom interrupted, practically vibrating in her chair with elation. “Pleeeease, can he come and help us?” Applejack put her hoof on her head and sighed.

“What do you think, Granny Smith?” she mumbled. The light green mare hummed to herself as she thought, and looked at you with a kind smile.

“You don’t have any obligation to do anymore for us, you know that, right?” Granny Smith asked. You nodded once with enthusiasm, making her laugh. “So be it, then. His mind’s made up.”

“Eeyup,” Big Mac added.

“I wanna see you doin’ your best this week, you hear?” Applejack reminded Apple Bloom. You were pretty sure the filly didn’t hear her over her cheering, though. For the rest of the meal, she listed details about the other damages the horde of angry squirrels had caused the clubhouse, and in the back of your mind you were starting to regret agreeing to help out. The other Apple family members snickered quietly to themselves as your concerned turned to worry, yet Apple Bloom continued on without care. You didn’t really understand her fascination with you, but seeing the little filly's excitement towards your decision was enough to motivate you to stand by it, and you looked forward to seeing the Apple family again.