"It's more than just 'green' and 'red' and 'golden delicious,'" Applejack spoke emphatically, gesturing with her hooves. "There are dang-near eight thousand known varieties of apples spread all throughout Equestria! Grown from hundreds of different types of trees!"
"Uh huh..." Stu Leaves nodded, seated across the bleachers from her. He watched her intently, listening. "How many types are grown here?"
"Five," Applejack quickly answered. "Zap-apples—which is native only to this part of Equestria. Then there's Central Valley Red Macintosh. East Everfree Green. And three variants of Golden Delicious."
"Super snazzy!"
"But we mainly grow crops of the Central Valley Red—which is why ya see the trees all around us in the four main fields dappled just so. Well... less so now, cuz we done bucked a major harvest over the past month."
"Uh huh. Hard workers!"
"You bet yer feathers! Now—the Golden Delicious apples are more rare, and we use 'em mostly to make the cider."
"Cider?"
Applejack gasped. "You haven't heard of the Sweet Apple Acres' regular Cider Season?"
"Uhhhhhhhh..." Stu Leaves cracked a worried smile. "Should I have?"
"Mrnnnnngh..." The fuzzy tips of Applejack's ears turned red. "...every year—just before Autumn—we squeeze the Golden Delicious harvest to its last drop and mix it with Granny Smith's secret recipe until it tastes just right."
"Really? What's in the recipe?"
"I ain't tellin' ya! That's why it's secret!"
"Hahah—of course."
"Anyways, it's about the second most popular event that happens here on the farm, just behind the Sisterhooves Social, of course. We attract ponies from far and wide—even from Fillydelphia! Loads of folks show up to camp out in line and enjoy a mug or two. We even hold outdoor concerts and make it all festive-like."
"Wow. Sounds spectacular!"
"Dang straight it is! But I pride myself more on the zap-apple jam harvest, seein' as it's awfully hard to serve up the stuff."
"What's so hard about jam?"
"Yer kiddin' me, right?"
"I... just figured 'Zap-Apple' was a brand name. I saw some bottles for the stuff in one of the local antique stores. Still had the 'Barnyard Bargains' label on it."
"Eugh...!" Applejack rolled her eyes. "...dun get me started on Barnyard Bargains."
"Whoops." Stu winced. "Wrong nerve?"
"Anyways, let's get back on track. Zap-Apples..."
"Right."
"Once a year—about early spring or so—the Timberwolves start a'howlin'. That's the first sign that the magic in the earth is gettin' ripe for sproutin' zap-apples."
"What's... uh... a Timberwolf?"
"Celestia Almighty! You really are a clueless colt, ain'tcha?"
"Th-there's not much land in Cloudsdale to grow anything, much less sustain wolves."
"Yeah—but you got books, don'tcha?"
Stu Leaves smiled. "Not with adorable unicorns in them!"
"Well, lemme explain it to y'all. Ya see... Timberwolves are enchanted natural constructs of wood—all shaped canine-like."
"Uh huh..."
"My own Granny Smith was the first Ponyvillean settler to encounter 'em. She had ventured deep into the Everfree Forest to try and discover some hocus pocus secret for growin' crops all well and fine in the local soil. Well, one night, all of a sudden..."