The orange mare continues to frantically pace back and forth, "Okay, don't panic. We just need ta find somepony ta help us."
Her brother watches in concern while cradling a green foal.
"Starlight? Nuh-uh, she's fine at magic; but this is out of her field. Zecora? But she's outta town. A doctor? Naw, they can't stand us Apples." she covers her face in panic with the stetson hat she wears, "Oh poor Granny Smith, we'll get ya back to normal. Don't ya fret."
"Call me crazy, Applejack." spoke a red bowed filly, "but ah think Baby Smith likes this."
"How can ya say that? She was havin' a fine time as she was before. Sitin' in her chair, rockin' day after day, nothin' ta worry about. What makes ya think she wanted this?"
In the kitchen, a cake holding more than eighty blown-out candles still waits to be eaten.