//------------------------------//
// Anchoring 
// Story: Appledashery Vol. Two 
// by Just Essay 
//------------------------------//

Applejack stood at a street corner.

Gazing at nothing and nopony in particular.

She squinted in the bright sunlight.  The reason for this was—for the first time in ages—she wasn't wearing her hat in public.  Instead, it dangled in her grip, open loose and shaking slightly in the afternoon breeze.

A long sigh rolled through her.  The mare's expression was neither joyful nor sad... just a freckled chalice of fuzz and confusion.  Looking, seeking, but never quite finding.

She didn't even realize somepony was speaking to her until a fetlock waved in her face, sundering her stone-steady gaze.

She looked up, still squinting.

"Has anypony ever told you that you've got a gorgeous, golden mane?"

Applejack blinked.  "Mmmmm... what?"

Stu Leaves blinked back.  "Erm... by that I mean... eheh..."  He took a nervous step back, followed by a second.  "Sorry.  That j-just came out.  I... erm..."  He fidgeted awkwardly in his delivery attire and struck a goofy pose.  "Good afternoon, Miss Applejack!"

"Oh..."  Applejack swallowed, managing a faint smile.  "Howdy, Stu."  Her nostrils flared.  "And I got it from my mother."

"Huh?"

"Granny says I inherited my Ma's good looks."  Applejack exhaled.  "Then again, she also says I got my Ma's brains and honest-streak and penchant for finances.  I think... sometimes..."  The mare bit her lip.  "...she hesitates sayin' I got anythang good from Pa... as if she thinks it's cheatin', what with him bein' her own foal and all."

"Wow... you don't say..."

"I always figured that she lurves him by lurvin' on us... my brother and sister and me," Applejack said.  "That's how... that's how you really bless the world and you bless yourself... by spreadin' it all around..."  She stared off into the sky, her emerald eyes reflecting the daring blueness of it all.  Like a sea of feathers.  "Reckon it's a cryin' shame not to spread it at all."

"Miss Applejack...?"

Applejack slowly pivoted her gaze to meet Stu's gaze.

He looked at her with his ears folded back in concern.  "Are you... feeling alright...?"

"Mmmm... I'm feelin'..."  She looked down at her hat.  It was empty at the moment.  Perhaps—it always was.  "I'm feelin', alright..."

Stu cocked his head to the side.  He fumbled for words—as if he had any to give.

Applejack knew better than to wait.  "And for the last dayum time..."  She slapped her hat over her head, covering her golden crown without even the slightest of tickling sensations.  She turned away from the vibrant blue sky and smirked in the stallion's direction.  "...ya dun have to call me 'Miss Applejack,' ya dumb varmint.  It's Applejack."

"Oh... heheh... s-sure thing!"

"Or 'AJ' if you prefer.  But none of this 'Miss Applejack' nonsense.  It puts too much stake in... in..."  She threw the thought off along with the grimace.  "Never mind.  Just call me 'Applejack.'"

"Okay, Applejack.  I saw you standing here and I couldn't help but say 'hi.'  So... uhm..."  He waved with a loose hoof and spread his wings for take-off.  "Bye!"

"Mmmm..."  Applejack almost hesitated.  Almost.  "Say—Stu?"

He stopped in mid-launch.  "Huh?"

"... ... ...when are you off work?"

"I've got about three more deliveries to do."  He shrugged.  "Should be a sneeze."

"You wanna stop by the farm sometime after?"  She smiled warmly.  "Y'know how you've told me how you wanna learn to feed livestock?  Reckon I could learn ya."

"Uhhhhhhh... really?"

"Yeah, really."  Her brow furrowed in brief consternation.  "Why would I offer somethin' unless I was fixin' to follow through with it?"

"Oh!  Good point!"  He chuckled.  "Good...!"  His wingtips fluttered.  "Great!  I-I mean... not that it wasn't already great... this day... the opportunity, er... or I mean—"

"Just get to work ya idiot."

"Oh!  Righty!"  He saluted, taking off finally.  "Speedy delivery!"

"Uh huh.  Bye now."

Swooooosh!  He soared into the air with extra gusto.

Applejack made for the edge of town.  In mid-trot, she took a moment to look up into the sky—her eyes locked onto a focused point for once.  It anchored her, and it was a great feeling.

Promising.  Comforting.

It gave her balance for the lazy stroll home.