//------------------------------// // The Old Green Mare // Story: Tales from the Rift // by Fonzie //------------------------------// Granny Smith was without question one of the most respected ponies in Ponyville. When she was young her family moved away from the produce barons of the east to settle in some nice bottom land near the Everfree Forest. The earth was dark, fertile and loaded with the promise of good harvests for many years. It was in that earth that the Apple family’s seed found purchase. It was there that Sweet Apple Acres came to be. The Apple family toiled from sun up until the moon rose. Granny Smith kept a watchful eye over the happenings on the farm. It was she who made and cultivated the Zap apple, a fruit so rare that it only truly grew successfully on that farm, into the cash crop it was. It was the same green pony who kept the finances in check and made sure every single pony on that farm did their fair share and sacrificed what they could to ensure that Sweet Apple Acres would be a success for generations. Ponies said that it was this hard work, pride, heart and knowledge that made the elderly pony smile a smile that could brighten the gloomiest of days. Everypony agreed that the Apple family was, without question, the strongest pillar of the community and yet, over the years some ponies began to whisper about just what occurred on that farm late at night. Some claimed that they had seen Granny Smith engage in bizarre rituals while wearing the dyed pelts of various woodland creatures. Others recalled the time, during a particularly miserable drought, when her son and daughter-in-law were found dead due to unknown and unnatural causes. Both ponies were found on the edge of the western orchard, their bodies mangled almost beyond recognition as if something large had come for their very hearts and souls and was not satisfied until it had ripped and torn them to bits. No beast was ever captured, the farm miraculously rebounded and by the time cider season came about it was almost as if the pair had never existed. Finally, there was the question about the Apple family finances. It was no secret that the Apples made a hefty sum off of the Zap apple harvest, Cider season and various other fruit and vegetable seasons and yet, no bank account could be found in any Apple family member’s name. Once again some ponies wondered where all of the bits they earned went. Some argued that it must be in a large safe somewhere on the farm. It was this story that caught the attention of two griffons, Leo and Pollo. Leo and Pollo were foreign to Equestria and not known to those in Ponyville. Such stories about the Apple family were not spoken to outsiders but, when plied with enough cider any pony’s tongue can be loosened just enough to allow for certain key details to come forth. With enough coin spent on cider and a lack of interest in whatever rumors surrounded Granny Smith, Leo and Pollo decided it might be a good idea to call upon the old green mare and see if perhaps they could earn a wage during the current season. At least that’s what they told the ponies. In truth, the two griffons had other interests and talents that were not related to harvesting crops or general agricultural work. They were burglars by trade and by passion. Leo had met the smaller and meeker Pollo while serving time in prison back in their homeland for pursuing what it was they were most passionate about. Once out of jail Leo and Pollo began plucking whatever they could from whomever they could. Sometimes it meant that there was a struggle between the burglars and the soon to be burgled. Unfortunately, sometimes that meant that the victim would be unable to ever tell the authorities about what happened to him or her due to the rather final nature of the beating they received. It was never personal and merely a business formality, one that Pollo hoped could be avoided this time around. Leo and Pollo decided that May 1st would be the ideal night to make their call on Granny Smith. They had overheard from other ponies that her grandchildren would be gone for the day to deliver pies to some of the more treacherous parts of Equestria and would be back late the following night. With that bit of information in mind the pair pulled a large wagon, that the procured earlier that day, down the rutty dirt road toward the farm. The ancient gnarled trees hid Sweet Apple Acres from the rest of Ponyville as if it were the shrine to some long forgotten God. It wasn’t until they could see the house that the two set their plan in motion. Leo told Pollo to pull the cart over to the edge of the western orchard parking the rear left wheel in a ditch. Once the smaller griffon was in place, Leo would knock on the door and ask if he could borrow the phone due to the wagon being stuck and them being lost. If however, he could not gain access to the farmhouse that way he would simply barge in and ask much more forcefully where the money was then tie her up and flash a light in the second story window so that Pollo could pull the wagon up, they load it and be out of town before the rooster crowed. Pollo waited by the wagon, its wheel sitting just inside of the ditch. He watched as the larger and darker griffon entered the brightly lit house. The smaller griffon sat back on his haunches watched and waited. The minutes ticked by slowly and as each minute passed the small griffon became more anxious. Sweat beaded on his brow, his gaze turned toward the dark, brown forest next to him. Pollo looked at the trees and their blighted leaves. It was as if rain hadn’t fallen on the farm in quite some time. It would be a bad harvest for this family, of that he was certain. After a half an hour Pollo began to fidget nervously. He wondered what could be taking Leo so long. On most burglaries they were in and out of a place in no more than five maybe ten minutes. The griffon wondered quietly to himself if Leo had had to get rough with the old green mare. He hoped that wasn’t the case and while beating someone you were burgling might be a standard business practice, it wasn’t one he preferred. The anxious sweat ran down his face and as he wiped his brow with a shaking claw when a loud series of blood curdling screams echoed from the farmhouse. Then complete silence followed by complete darkness from within. Pollo’s heart pounded against his breastbone, his eyes wide with fear. He had never heard screams like that in his life. He couldn’t tell whether it was the old green mare or perhaps Leo. He’d never heard Leo scream and yet all of his senses were trained on the farmhouse hoping that it had been the mare. Every muscle in the griffon’s body was taut. Then in the darkness he could see it under the cold light of the moon, something exited the house. Pollo felt his breathing stop as the light sound of footsteps came his way and in the moonlight he saw her, the old green mare. Pollo gulped as he watched her slowly shamble toward him, a bright, peculiar smile plastered on her face that held the griffon in check. Pollo had never seen such a bright smile in all of his life nor had he seen anyone with such orange eyes before. Over the next few months the residents of Ponyville buzzed about the two bodies found on the edge of the Everfree Forest. The bodies of two griffons, which couldn’t be identified, lay mutilated as if attacked by a large animal. Various body parts were missing from their corpses and their faces were frozen in their last horrible moments of fear. The town went under a curfew and for the next several weeks investigators, from the capital, Canterlot, worked feverishly to find the beast or culprit that could have done such a thing to two griffons that, by all accounts should have been able to fly away and escape whatever it was that was after them. Yet, after a time the investigators packed up without any answers and without further incidence. Soon the rest of the town forgot about the bodies found on the edge of Everfree. When the excitement passed, the ponies of Ponyville began to marvel at how quickly the apple crop at Sweet Apple Acres had improved since that May. The trees were pregnant with fruit and even some of the other crops were larger than anypony could remember. Naturally, curious ponies would ask Granny Smith just how the family was able to turn the harvest around so quickly. When asked the old green mare would just smile and tell them with some sacrifice, a little heart and the right words anything was possible.