It was tears that woke her up.
Applejack's eyelids fluttered open, heavy with moisture... aching even more so.
The fire of the hearth had died down to a gentle crackle. The mare was seated on the family couch in the living room. Not too far away—within range of a gentle hoofstroke—Granny Smith sat in her rocker. The elder was sound asleep, and her breath carried with it fresh memories of a tender evening full of consoling words.
Applejack was numb to it all. She sat up slowly... torturously.
She gazed over at her grandmother... then at the glossy portraits of old family members, obscured in the penumbra of lingering night.
A heavy breath left Applejack's muzzle. Wincing, she stretched her weary limbs and stood up—wobbling—on the floor in the middle of the room. She lingered there for a prolonged period of time. Then, with practiced grace, she drew an afghan over Granny Smith's figure... and reached in to nuzzle the old mare's wrinkled complexion. Granny murmured something in her sleep, but continued resting still.
With heavy hoofsteps, Applejack left the room... and the scant remaining traces of warmth left therein.
Applejack stood at the bottom of the household's stairs. She looked up, watching as an endless array of black-and-white faces bordered the ascent into darkness. Somewhere—hidden high above—there was a vanity possessing the only sliver of bright color in that entire house.
The insides of the farm mare twisted at the mere thought of it. The saliva in her mouth turned bitter.
So... with a cold shudder... she turned and looked towards the source of a softly blowing gust of nightly wind.
Applejack's eyes caught an open window in the front room. In the dim starlight, she could make out the soft slope of a hill...
Gusts of wind blew at Applejack's blonde bangs as she slowly ascended the springy hillside. Tree branches rustled overhead. A timberwolf howled in the distance, but was silent yet again.
At last, Applejack came to a stop. She saw shadows upon shadows, but in the center of the malaise she spotted two horizontal crescents of reflected starlight.
The tombstones were waiting for her. They never moved; they never fell.
Applejack drew her faithfulness and strength from the sturdiest of places.
At that moment, however, she fell to her knees... squatting before the stones. She hung her head, fighting the same tears that woke her... that brought her there.
"I..."
She gnashed her teeth.
"I'm sorry..."
She looked up, her shadowed vision already growing misty.
"I can only blame myself. I should have looked into thangs harder. Should have... kept my eyes peeled. Not taken chances. Not..."
She gulped.
"... ... ...not allowed myself to get distracted."
She clenched her jaw tight.
"So long as thangs are lookin' grim... I promise... I won't lose my way ever again. I'm gonna fight to keep this farm. Ain't nothin' else worth fightin' for. Nothin'."
Silence.
With scuffling limbs, she shimmied forward until she rested a hoof on both tombstones. She bowed her head.
"I'm gonna save this... save everythang. You can depend on me." A slight whimper. "You've struggled too hard... we've struggled too hard to fall behind now. But don't you worry..."
She stood up.
She breathed.
The tears vanished and—
"I've got my priorities straight now."