//------------------------------//
// I am Asking for Your Help 
// Story: A Favour for Hearth's Warming 
// by Wintermist 
//------------------------------//

"And that there's perfect. All done," Applejack declared with satisfaction. Apple Bloom cheered, and Big Mac gave a firmly emphatic "Eeeyup."

The farmhouse sparkled with Hearth's Warming cheer, alive with tinsel, decorations, and holly. There wasn't a whole lot to do during the depths of winter - not compared to the flurry of work that the growing months brought - and now that everything was settled to Applejack's satisfaction, she was looking forward to putting her hooves up. In fact, maybe she should follow Granny Smith's example and fall asleep in an armchair for a while. That sure could be nice.

Thunderous knocks hammered the front door.

Rolling her eyes, Applejack muttered, "Well, dang, that was quicker than usual. Ah'll get it, Ah'll get it. Sit yourselves down. Probably fate of Equestria stuff, again. Save me some pie for later."

Clomping down the hallway, she planted her hoof on the latch and pulled inwards. "Yeah? So what's happened now-"

"Featherfluff, is this how long it takes you bumpkins to open a door?" demanded a familiar voice, laden with impatience.

Applejack blinked. "Gilda? What in tarnation are you doing here?" The griffon was glowering irritably. "Haven't seen you since you stormed out of that party last summer," Applejack went on, and as her own annoyance rapidly overtook her surprise, she added, "Which is just fine with me, by the way." 

"Yeah, great. Remind me to make a note of that if I ever start caring what losers like you think," Gilda snapped.

Applejack paused. "…yeah, no. Ah don't have to take your nonsense today. Or ever, come to that. Happy Hearth's Warming." 

She shut the door in Gilda's face. 

There was an outraged silence from outside, then another series of demanding knocks and thumps. "Open up you stupid mud-crawler!" Gilda screeched through the door.

"Don't wanna. Don't haveta, either."

"You total-" Gilda snarled, her words breaking into an inarticulate screech. Several more thumps shook the aged, yet sturdy, woodwork. Then, as if the words were being towed out of her by mules, she hissed, "Please open the fluffing door!"

Applejack paused, in the middle of walking back to the family room. Rolling her green eyes, she called back, "Was that a 'please' Ah just heard?"

"…yes," Gilda growled. "So please open the door."

The latch clunked, and Applejack drew the door inwards half-way. "Yeah? What do you want, Gilda? You ain't exactly made yourself friends around here."

Biting back her first response, Gilda replied with heavily strained patience, "Yeah. I know. That is why I am asking for your help."

"Help, huh? What kind?" Deep scepticism hung on Applejack's every word, but despite herself, she knew she'd never turn down a pony in need. She supposed that extended to this incredibly rude griffon, too.

"…I want to make it up to Dash," Gilda replied sulkily, looking away. "We were – really close once, alright? I want to get her a Hearth's Warming present, like you stupid lamers give, and she's all – I don’t know! Different! How do I know what she wants anymore?"

"Uh huh. Well, Granny Smith's sleeping right now, but when we're done, you're gonna come in here and say sorry for scaring her like you did."

"And if I do, you'll help?" Gilda fidgeted, clenching her beak around every word.

"No, Ah'll help because Dash is my friend, and it upset her when it went bad between you two. But you're gonna say sorry after, because it's the right thing to do, y'hear? If you can't grasp that much, you'll never be friends with Dash again, present or not."

"…fine. Fine!" Gilda threw up her talons, her wings flapping impatiently. "Let's just get on with it!"

"Ah'm gonna regret this," Applejack muttered, wrapping her scarf around her neck and stepping out into the snow. Her fur fluffed up subtly as the cold hit her like a wall, and the image of the roaring fire in the big grate made it even harder to close the door behind her and set off towards Ponyville.

They didn't get very far. By the entrance to the farmyard, one of several venerable old trees had surrendered to the weight of snow and broken, lying across the path.

"Aw, dangit," Applejack cursed with feeling. "Ah was fond've that one." Sighing and brushing some of the snow off the fallen trunk with her hoof, she stroked the crinkled bark. "So long, sugar. You had a good run."

Gilda rolled her eyes, her wings snapping wide, and launched herself over the tangled mass of branches, wood and snow. "Come on already. You're supposed to be helping me, not talking to dumb plants."

"Is that right," replied Applejack flatly. "Well, you want folks to help you, you find time for them, too - so button it. Ah've got to clear the path first."

Gilda sat down on the path with a thud. "Seriously? It'll take all day to cut that up and cart it away. I don't have time for this!"

"Cut your yapping and stand clear," Applejack retorted. Turning around, she pushed her hooves through the snow and felt around a little, getting a good, solid grip. Glancing over her shoulder to make sure the griffon had moved, Applejack gritted her teeth and tensed her muscles.

Wham!

Her hind hooves slammed into the trunk, honed muscles flexing. The fallen tree skidded back, slewing into a snowbank to the side of the path.

"There," Applejack said firmly. "That'll do for now."

Gilda shut her beak with a click, blinking, then shook her head and snapped brusquely, "Right, are you done? Are we going?"

"Yeah, yeah. We're going," Applejack replied grumpily. 

Ruffling her feathers, Gilda huffed an irritated sound and flapped into the air. A silence descended, broken by the squeaky crunching of Applejack's hooves pressing into the fresh, soft snow, and the beat of Gilda's wings. Obviously the griffon was trying to hurry them along, repeatedly shooting ahead and then waiting, radiating impatience. With grouchy stubbornness, Applejack responded by maintaining a steady, unhurried pace that she could easily keep up all day. 

It was lovely out, despite the nip in the air, and despite Gilda. The late afternoon sun was gleaming on the snow, the fields and forest looked like confections under their blanket of white, and Applejack felt her irritation easing. As they drew near to the outskirts, she called up, "So what sort've thing are you wanting to get Rainbow, anyways?"

With a flat scowl, Gilda dropped onto all fours beside Applejack. "Are your ears stuck under that stupid hat? I told you I don't know what she wants!"

"Ain't much of a friend then, are ya," Applejack retorted, then winced as she saw a wounded look briefly flash across the griffon's face. "Alright, alright, sorry," she apologised, holding up a hoof to forestall Gilda's imminent retort. "Look, Ah'll help you, but we've got to start somewhere. Ponyville's bigger than y'think."

Gilda's wings lifted, then settled, in some sort of frustrated griffon shrug. "What do you want? You're one of her loser friends. She probably likes what you like." 

"Hah!" Applejack snorted, shaking her head. "Friends aren't like that. Jest because you like each other doesn't mean y'aren't very different. But... alright, fine. It's a place to start, Ah guess."

Winding her way between the cottages fringing Ponyville, Applejack made her way towards a small workshop. Pushing open the door, with the jingle of a bell, she called, "Afternoon, Mister Heartwood!" 

Shelves lined the walls, covered with wooden carvings. Some were simple, pure shapes - ponies, trees, little houses, all caught with cunning detail that brought out the natural grain of the wood - while some were jointed and hinged into little dioramas. Small levers on the bases sent acrobats tumbling, bears roaring and branches waving. The scent of wood polish and sawdust filled the air, warm and familiar.

"...wood? Seriously, more wood?"

Applejack sighed, briefly pulling her hat down to cover her eyes. Shoving it back into its accustomed place, she replied with heavy patience, "Yup. Carvings. Ah've always liked them, but Ah jest don't have the talent for it."

Gilda walked between the rows of shelves, sneering openly. Poking a little pony and cart with a claw, she demanded, "You think Dash wants one of these?"

"Maybe," replied Applejack evenly. "Might be something catches your eye. Take a look. It's no good me picking for you. This's got to come from your heart."

With a resentful mutter, Gilda stalked up and down the shop. Applejack watched her for a moment, then sighed again and looked away. It was downright exhausting to be around her. 

A crack of wood hitting wood made the farmpony snap back around. Gilda's wing was fully extended, and she was casually sweeping a whole shelf of little carvings onto the floor.

"Oops," Gilda said, making sarcastic air quotes with her talons. 

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" demanded the older stallion behind the counter, jerking upright from his little stool.

With sudden, explosive anger, Gilda lunged towards him, rearing up to tower over the old male. "I'm bored of this junk! So what are you gonna do about it, huh? You want to fight me?"

Applejack growled. With a single sharp movement, she caught hold of Gilda's tail in her mouth, and yanked. The griffon yelped in shock, her claws and talons scrabbling at the floor, but before she even knew what was happening, she was being towed bodily out of the shop and out into the open air. 

"Hey! Hey, what the- let go!" Gilda screeched.

The door banged shut, and they were alone in the snow. Applejack spat out Gilda's tail, heart pounding with fury. "You don't ever do anything like that again, you understand?" she snapped.

Gilda shied back from Applejack, then gathered herself and shoved her beak forward aggressively. "I do what I like, pony. I go where I like, I say what I like, I do what I like!"

"No, you don't!" growled Applejack, her jaw tightening. "You better learn yourself some dang manners, in a hurry, or else!"

"Or else what?" Gilda sneered.

"Or else, Ah'll teach you some manners!" Applejack leant forward, her nose rammed up against Gilda's beak, boiling with anger. "You threaten ponies like that again, Ah'll fight you, alright. We can see if Ah can hammer some sense into that empty head of yours!"

Gilda's large eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't dare. I'm a griffon."

Applejack's green eyes flashed, ablaze from within. She'd been taught never to throw the first punch, and she wouldn't, but by Celestia's mane, if Gilda struck first, then Applejack was absolutely ready to throw the second one. "Try me! Ah ain't scared of you, not one lick, and you are about to get your feathery butt whupped harder'n it's ever been whupped!"

The griffon's expression changed. She pulled her head back slightly, and demanded in less furious tones, "What is with you?" 

Applejack straightened up, taken off-balance by the question. Frowning, she replied firmly, "Ah'm not scared of anypony, and ain't no pony, griffon, or anything else that'll stop me from sticking up fer others against bullies - like you." 

Gilda stared at her a moment longer, then shook her head. "...okay. Whatever. So we're done then." Stepping back, she spread her wings, looking up at the sky.

"And what about Rainbow, huh? You gonna just flap off and forget her?" Applejack's words were sharp with frustrated irritation. 

Gilda stopped, looking back at Applejack suspiciously. "You're the one that's kicking me out of this crummy town."

"No, Ah ain't! You came to me for a reason, dangit! You want to make friends with Rainbow again, you need to be the kind of griffon she wants to be friends with! Sure, she can be a jerk sometimes, but she ain't ever cruel like you just were. Get back in there, apologise, and just - make a dang effort!" Flanks heaving with her breath, Applejack glared at Gilda, almost daring her to just fly off. 

She didn't. Wings settling against her back again, Gilda reluctantly lowered her head. "Yeah. Fine. Sorry."

"Not to me. To him." Applejack nodded meaningfully at the shop door. "Right now, or we are done."

Mister Heartwood was not particularly happy to see Gilda again, but once the griffon clenched her beak and forced out a few unconvincing words of apology, he at least refrained from throwing them both out of his shop. It was lucky that none of the carvings had broken; Applejack had been grimly preparing herself to dig into her limited pouch of bits to cover the damages. All the same, she only really relaxed once the two of them were back out in the snow once more, away from anything Gilda could easily smash. 

"Well, what now?" asked Gilda, her tone lower and less demanding. 

"...look, Gilda, come on over here, alright?" Applejack beckoned, walking over to a snow-covered bench. Brushing enough of the wood clear for the two of them, she tried to think how to fit words around some ideas that apparently were totally foreign to the griffon. 

Gilda sat down with a thud. Applejack sat beside her, gesturing vaguely with her forehooves. "Ah don't know if it's different where you come from, or if you're just terrible-"

"Hey!"

"-but you got to think of others a bit. Rainbow might be a show-off, and more'n a mite competitive, but she cares about the happiness of other folk, and she'd never lash out like that. She's a good pony, and a good friend."

"Yeah, so? He isn't my friend. He's some dumb, boring old wood-fondler. I wouldn't talk like that to Dash."

Applejack rubbed her forehead with her hoof, trying not to give in to exasperation. "You don't just treat your friends like they're the only ponies that matter! You got to be decent to all the folk you meet. Dang it, Gilda, don't it make you unhappy when you see folks upset or hurt because've what you did?"

"...no," replied the griffon sulkily. "I don't get it. You can't treat everyone like your friend."

"True enough, and Ah'm not telling you t'do that. But you can, at the least, stop yourself from making their day worse. C'n you give that a try? Because if you can't, well. Presents don't make up for being rude and cruel, Gilda; they're not bribes. They matter because they show you care."

Gilda hunched forward, frowning irritably. "Featherfluff, you make everything so stupidly hard."

"Well, that's how it is," Applejack said firmly. Everypony deserved a second chance, but the way Gilda was burning through hers, the odds weren't great that she'd listen to a dang word. Well. This was the last chance. Meeting the griffon's gaze squarely, Applejack added, "Oh, and one more thing. You get nasty with another pony here in Ponyville? Ah'll knock your beak off, and that's a fact."

"You'd try," retorted Gilda, but she grinned as she said it, inasmuch as her face was capable of doing so. "You actually would try. I like that. You're tough." Pushing up off the bench and settling on all fours, she flicked her wings to shed a few stray flakes of snow. "Alright. The wood was lame. What else?"

Applejack winced. It was a terrible, terrible idea, but there was always... "The joke shop, Ah guess. Not rilly my kinda thing, but Ah reckon there might be something there."

"Yeah?" Gilda asked, perking up. "Then let's go look!"

There wasn't. Not because the shop didn't have a wide array of whoopie cushions, fake animal droppings and other paraphernalia, but because it was closed. 

"Gone to Canterlot - apologies for the lack of service?" Gilda read out, fuming. "I'll just smash the window and take it, then!"

"Gilda," warned Applejack. "Ah get that you're disappointed, but no way, no how. C'mon. We'll try someplace else."

The toy shop was a bust, too. Gilda stalked up and down the shelves, poking and prodding things, constantly restrained by Applejack's warning gaze. "This stuff is all for hatchlings," the griffon complained, pushing aside a brightly-coloured spinning top. "Where's all the cool toys?"

"Now, now. If nothing leaps out at you, c'mon. We'll keep trying. Ah'm not gonna let you finish the day without the perfect thing for Rainbow, so buck up and let's be a bit more positive, alright?"

"Uh... sure. Thanks."

They tried the houseplant shop. "Laaaaaaaame."

They tried the balloon shop. "Gilda! Git back here! ...aw, shucks. Sorry about her. Ah'll pay for the popped one."

They tried the bookstore. "Losertopia. Dash doesn't care about books. They're totally for nerds."

Applejack was beginning to eye the Quills and Sofas shop with mild desperation - Maybe Gilda would like to get Rainbow a new couch? - when a colourful sign caught her eye. "Oh, hey! The House of Hats! Y'might find something y'like in there. Ah don't trouble mahself with the place, usually. Got my own hat, and it's the only hat Ah need."

"Sure. Got to be better than the bookstore." Gilda trotted ahead, pushing open the door with a chime of bells. Within moments, she was burrowing around in piles of hats, pulling out one after another and trying them on.

Relaxing by the door, Applejack shook her head. Thank Celestia. Maybe now, Gilda would pick something and they'd be done. 

Gilda emerged from the crowd of shoppers, with a slanted cap on that made her look rather like an archer. "Look! Like it? Does it suit me?"

"Uh... sure. Maybe not in blue, though. Something brown or green?" Applejack tried. "But you're here to get something for Rainbow, right?"

Gilda had already disappeared back into the crowd. A moment later, though, she reared up on her hind legs to see over a display, a brown bowler hat perched rakishly on her head. "Hey, pony! Hey! What about this?"

"It's Applejack, and naw, bowler doesn't really suit you. Gilda-"

The griffon dropped out of sight. Watching for her to re-emerge, Applejack was caught off-guard when Gilda peered around the end of a row, wearing a suspiciously similar stetson hat. "Applejack, look. I'm you. Pony pony friendship apples."

"Hey! Now, that's about enough've-"

"Apples apples wood wood friendship consideration apples."

"Knock that off!"

"Apples."

"Gilda, you're meant to be looking for a present for Rainbow-"

"And I will, totally! Just one thing. Say 'Apples' for me."

Applejack pulled a face. "Nothin' doin'."

"Just one word."

"Nope."

"C'mon. Say it. Say it, say it-"

Applejack heaved an enormous sigh, and grumbled, "...Apples."

Gilda sprung over with a flap of her wings and wedged the hat atop Applejack's. "There. Now you're Doublejack."

"Well, with mah mighty power of two hats, Ah'm telling you: get back to lookin' for Rainbow's present, alright?" Applejack nodded to herself and took off the extra stetson as Gilda ducked back into the throng, propping it atop a nearby pile of feather-plumes. It was actually kind of nice to see the sulky bird brighten up and have some fun for a change. 

The griffon popped up, grinning, wearing five hats on top of each other. "Now I have the power! Behold the Queen of Hats!"

Applejack broke into laughter, shaking her head. "Alright, alright, Ah'll give you that one."

"Hang on, hang on-" Gilda reached up and removed a tricorn from half-way up the stack, then plonked it on top of Applejack's stetson. "By royal decree, I dub thee - Piratejack! Scourge of the seas!"

Grinning, Applejack glanced around her, and grabbed one of the odd reflective things that doctors wore sometimes. Wedging it on top of Gilda's tottering stack, she rebutted, "No more royal decrees outta you. Now you're Docda; best at medicine, worst at bedside manners."

Gilda rose up on her hind legs and put on a snooty expression. "I've cured your disease, which no one could cure. But you're still short and ugly, so stop stinking up my hospital, loser."

Applejack snorted her amusement. "That's terrible, y'know that?"

"I can heal any sickness, but no one can heal my sick burns!" Gilda crowed. 

"Making you a doctor was a mistake, Ah'm reckoning," replied Applejack, shaking her head and plucking the reflector off Gilda's stack of hats. 

"Hey, my medical licence!" protested the griffon.

Her grin widening, Applejack struck a pose and declared, "Piratejack strikes again!"

"Oh yeah? Well, I'm-" Gilda pulled the top hat off her stack and looked at it, then put it back, "the best miner, so I'll tunnel under your ship, and steal it back!"

"Your tunnel fills with water," objected Applejack.

"It's a waterproof tunnel."

"Though the sea?"

"I did say 'best miner', didn't I?"

The two of them went back and forth through the shop, swapping hats and trading silly jokes. For the first time, Applejack could see a bit of what Rainbow saw - or used to see - in this difficult, prickly griffon. Under the right circumstances, she could be playful and fun to be around. 

If only she wasn't so selfish and rude the rest of the time.

Gilda backed into another pony, who yelped. Twisting around, the griffon opened her beak to - Applejack just knew ­- call her a loser who needed to get out of her way. 

Instead, Gilda glanced at Applejack, then braced herself, turned to the mare she'd collided with, and muttered, "Sorry."

"Oh, that's not a problem, dear, don't worry yourself."

...huh, thought Applejack. "Anyways. Y'found something you fancy?" she asked. 

Gilda hesitated. "Uh... maybe? I could pick one of these... I guess." She looked around at the piles of hats with a slightly overwhelmed look on her face. "Just want to see something and know that's the thing for Dash, like you said."

"...alright, Ah get it. We c'n come back. How about the chocolate stall? Might be something you like the look of there."

"Sure."

The two of them wandered out into the chill air. After a few moments of walking, Gilda added, a shade awkwardly, "That was pretty cool. With the kick, and the tree."

"Buck," Applejack corrected her. "That's bucking. Heck, you should see me during harvest time. Ah'm bucking like that all day."

"You can buck all day."

"Sure can, and do! For days on end, when it's needed."

"Don't you get tired?" There was an odd note of suppressed humour in Gilda's voice.

"Oh, Ah won't say that after a few hard days bucking, Ah'm not a mite sore. But its fer the good of the farm, and it's darn good exercise."

Gilda snorted a laugh, then tried to hide it. "I - yeah, it would be."

"Here, are you makin' fun of me?" asked Applejack suspiciously.

"Uh, no. No way," Gilda answered, with a shake of her head. Her wide amber eyes trailed along Applejack's flanks for a moment, and her facial feathers fluffed up a little in a way that almost seemed embarrassed.

"...right. Okay, so how about some of this?"

It was best to keep Gilda away from Sugarcube Corner, after the way she'd previously yelled at Pinkie, but a little chocolate stall was set out in the square, and doing a brisk business. Ponies were queued up, buying chocolate lollipops and larger boxes of sweets.

"Looks pretty tasty," Gilda remarked appreciatively, flapping upwards to look over the heads of the ponies around the stand. Shouldering her way through the waiting ponies - Applejack covered her face with her hoof in exasperation - Gilda picked out a box of sweets and handed over a few bits.

Applejack released a long sigh of relief. Now, maybe she could go home and have a mug of hot cocoa. "All done then?" she asked as Gilda strolled back over to her.

"Yeah, I guess. They look pretty good." Gilda lifted the box, and eyed it critically from a couple of angles. Then, with a flick of her claws, she severed the ribbon holding it closed, pushed off the lid, and tossed a few into her waiting beak.

"What're you doing?!" yelped Applejack. 

"Chill, already," Gilda replied indistinctly as she chewed. "I was gonna give you some too. Here." She waved the box in front of Applejack's nose.

"Buh - but those were for Rainbow!" Applejack protested. 

The griffon looked at her blankly. "No they weren't. They were for me. See?" She pointed at her chocolate-smeared beak, then shook her head and took a few more. "Chocolate's, like, the 'who even are you' gift, right? I want something that means something. Like... from when we were having fun together. She's gotta... like, open it, and get that we're still friends. Chocolate isn't gonna cut it." 

Sighing, Applejack straightened her hat. "Right. Like Ah said, Ah do get it. This means a lot to you, even if you are a giant pain in the tail." 

"No chocolate for you, jerk," replied Gilda casually, grinning.

The thing was, it was a big deal. Depending on how things went, Gilda could end up making friends with Rainbow again, maybe opening herself to being a better friend, being nicer to those around her, the whole shebang - or it could blow up in Gilda's face, if she fluffed it, and Rainbow thought she was trying to buy forgiveness. 

Dang it.

Applejack made a decision. "Alright. Ah've got an idea. Come on, this way." 

"Where now?" the griffon demanded, crumpling the empty box and tossing it into a bin. 

"You jest follow me." The light was fading from the sky, and the street lamps were flickering into life. Applejack walked briskly, half to keep herself warm, half to give the griffon as little time as possible to work out their destination. 

They were under the eaves of the tall, intricately decorated building by the time Gilda read the sign. "The Carousel Boutique? Seriously? Have you even met Dash?"

"Ah reckon there's something here you'd be interested in. C'mon. You asked for my help, didn't you?"

With a grumble, Gilda followed Applejack inside. Rarity looked up from the counter, her professional smile freezing at the sight of the griffon. 

"Rarity," Applejack forestalled her, "Gilda's looking for a present for Rainbow. Reckon there's a special hat that might suit her fine."

Rarity's eyes widened. Leaning closer, she hissed, "Applejack, dear, you can't be serious!" 

"Yeah, Ah am," Applejack sighed. 

"But it's your commission! That awful griffon-" 

"Will ya please? It's important."

"Oh, very well. If you're quite sure." 

Raising her voice, Rarity fixed her smile back in place, and addressed Gilda, who was lurking unconvinced by the door. "Yes, I believe I have something appropriate for your needs."

"Doubt it," snorted Gilda, looking over at her.

Rarity gritted her immaculate teeth. Reaching under the counter, she drew out a pegasus aviator cap, with boldly styled flying goggles. A jagged rainbow stripe marked each side. "I just happened to have this in stock," she said stiffly.

"Ooooh!" Gilda burst out, stepping forward. Grabbing it, she turned it over and over in her hands. "Yeah! Yeah, this is perfect! It'll totally remind her of all the flying we did - she's gonna love this! I'll have this. What'll it cost me? 'cause I've got... lemme see, this many bits left."

"That certainly isn't eno-" Rarity began, then stopped as Applejack shook her head. With a short exhalation, Rarity resumed, "That will do. Thank you."

The shop door chimed musically behind them as the two emerged into the snowy evening. Gilda was crowing at length about how much Rainbow would love the present, leaving no gaps for Applejack to get a word in. 

Trying not to feel frustrated - after all, it had been her own idea - Applejack finally interrupted, "Ah'm gonna head on home now, alright? Getting on late."

"Sure! Sure. Thanks. This was great. See, asking you totally paid off. Never would have gone in a place that looked like that." 

"Yeah, well. Surprises come in all shapes, if you're open to 'em."

"Yeah. Thanks," Gilda said again. She hesitated, then spread her wings and flapped off into the darkening sky. 

"G'night to you too," Applejack murmured. Shaking her head and tugging her scarf a little tighter around her neck, she set off for the edge of town, following the track that wound its way through the fields and orchards back to Sweet Apple Acres. 

She'd have to think up another present for Rainbow, now. That was a real darn shame; she'd been looking forward to the look on her friend's face when she unwrapped that. Would have to save up some more bits, too. 

Still. Whatever gift she chose, Applejack knew that she and Rainbow would still be friends. Couldn't say the same for Rainbow and Gilda. It was worth it; it was worth it. 

Brightening up, Applejack nodded to herself, and headed back through the dim half-light. The barn stood out in the gathering dusk like a beacon, a cheery yellow glow shining outwards, and she was reaching for the door latch when-

"Hey! Hey, wait up!" 

Applejack closed her eyes and groaned silently. Tense and tired, she turned around slowly to address the hovering griffon. "Yeah?"

"Uh." Gilda dropped into the snow and took a few steps forward, then carefully lifted up a small paper bag. "Turned out I had a few more bits on me, actually. So... here." She pushed it into Applejack's hooves, then took one more step and hugged the farm pony, hard. 

Completely taken by surprise, Applejack froze. Gilda's body was surprisingly warm, the soft layer of her feathers overlying a deeper, more robust warmth beneath. They stood there for a moment, the embrace lingering, before Gilda coughed and drew back. 

Unable to quite meet Applejack's eyes, Gilda said quickly, "Thanks for the help. Happy Hearth's Warming," and shot into the air. It was a tactic that a lot of fliers used to get the last word on ground ponies, and it seemed Gilda was no exception.

"...happy Hearth's Warming!" Applejack yelled after her, then turned and pushed the door open. Stepping into the warmth and light, she carefully opened the little bag. A beautifully carved tree lay within, branches formed and shaped by the grain. Putting her hoof to the little slider at the bottom, Applejack wiggled it, and the branches swayed gently in an ersatz breeze. 

"Well now," Applejack murmured to herself. "If that don't just beat all."