Applejack woke cold, stiff, and sore.
So she got to work. A few cookies plus the last of her water made for a good enough breakfast, then she grabbed the hatchet and headed out. They’d already burned through most of what she was able to gather yesterday. Small wood didn’t last long, and that was all the hatchet could get.
The motion roused Rarity – no help for it. The girl was obviously quietly miserable, sporting baggy eyes and wincing as she rose from the bed. She lit a new fire and hunched next to it, seemingly motionless until Applejack returned with the first load of the day.
“Water.”
Applejack blinked. “Hm?”
Rarity licked her cracked lips. “What should we do for water? Of course we’re surrounded by the stuff, but don’t we need to… filter it, or somesuch?”
Applejack rumbled in her throat, musing a confident lie before opting for honesty. “No idea. We gotta heat the snow first anyway to drink, so I reckon boiling it will make it safe as can be.”
“A shame we only have two mugs,” Rarity frowned, then brightened. “Ah! The mixing bowl should work. We brought it for the chips, but it’s metal, it should survive hot water. I’ll get started on that now.”
“Don’t wander further than the car,” Applejack coached.
Rarity gave a light ‘hmph,’ then stood abruptly and brushed past her out the door, nose to the air.
Applejack stared after the girl for an extra second, then turned, shaking her head.
“Just misses her beauty sleep.” Applejack mumbled the words, not fully believing them but wondering what else it could be.
Work gave her a steady rhythm, though the lack of food slowed her down. She didn’t feel hungry, but with nothing but apples and junk for fuel she was sluggish and fought down a building headache. One load, then another.
Rarity kept herself busy, to good effect. Applejack’s next return found the girl heating water with her shiny metal bowl, and on her next their little shack smelled like a Christmas store. Rarity hummed a pop song, stirring her boiling, green concoction with a stick. Things like little green worms thrashed in the water, though a fast blink connected the dots. Applejack had said pine needles were edible, didn’t she? She had been thinking of biting them off branches like cob corn. This would be better…
Probably. The mug Rarity proudly gave Applejack seemed like a barely-green tea, with most of the needles having fused into chunks with the ‘worms’ impression still fresh in mind.
Rarity set to hers immediately, and Applejack followed. The irony of being grossed out more than her prissy friend would have been too much to bear. Applejack braced as she sipped… then shrugged and relaxed. Past the Christmas smell, it barely tasted like anything at all. Like one of those cheap teas she swore were made from grass.
Then it hit her gut. The warmth blossomed out, giving heat and comfort to her chilled body. She drank it down fast as she could, ignoring the protests of her scalded tongue. They poured out the bowl into a second mug for each – it was twice as thick from needles settling to the bottom, but not less welcome. They sat down on their little bed and enjoyed it slowly in silence. After all that happened… a break was nice. Even from talking.
The mug emptied too fast. Applejack was hungry enough that she began fishing out the remnants with her finger. A feminine ‘Ahem’ interrupted, and she looked up to find Rarity presenting a white plastic spoon.
Applejack grinned as she accepted. “Found it in your pocket?”
Rarity smirked around her mug. “No, in your glove compartment. About ten of those little take-out packages with cutlery, condiments, and napkins, along with some ketchup packets.
“Yeah, well,” Applejack chuckled. “Junk accumulates. I don’t use them, I hate wasting, so I throw them in the glove box.”
Rarity tittered. “I wasn’t complaining, Darling. I went through the car again this morning looking for anything we missed. There were two granola bars behind them as well, making for quite a nice haul.”
She seemed to catch herself from her cheer, giving a quiet sigh. “Likely, the last haul. Unless we start beating your doorframes into spear tips or cannibalizing the seats for stuffing.”
“Last one might not be a bad idea,” Applejack mused. “The car’s a loss. But… hey.”
She reached over, sliding two fingers beneath Rarity’s chin and tilting it up. “Keep your chin up, Rares. We got all we need to make it.”
Rarity nodded into Applejack’s hand. “What should I do next?”
“Keep warm.” Applejack stood upright, then hid a wince. Rough night, car crash… her body was hurt in more places than one, and was finally reminding her of it. Especially the left shoulder, where the seat belt caught her.
No help for it. Walking outside told her at once that it was several degrees warmer in their little shelter. Good for there, tough coming out. Sweat from yesterday’s fear and today’s labor clung clammily to her sides.
“We’ll be a lot colder if we run out of wood,” Applejack mumbled, steeling past the pain and chill. Her headache, sedated by the hot drink, tore back in a fury.
The soreness grew as she worked, chopping low branches and gathering fallen wood. Any motion with her left arm sent spikes out from her shoulder. Though she swung with the right, she was still lifting, grabbing, pulling…
Applejack stopped to rub her shoulder, but that only incensed the pain. “What is wrong with me?”
“You survived a car crash, Darling.”
Applejack turned, finding a second set of boot prints in the snow leading back to the shelter, ending where Rarity stood. With elbows out and fists curled petulantly upon her hips, the girl scowled in a very Rarity-like fashion, though for the life of her Applejack had no idea why.
Applejack sniffed and coughed wetly. “You should get back inside.”
“Yes, let’s go back inside.” Nose to the air, Rarity marched forwards, took the branches from Applejack’s arms, and turned back to the shelter. No less confused than before, Applejack moved to resume work before belatedly realizing Rarity snatched the hatchet as well.
By the time she reached home base, Rarity was already on the bed. “Sit down, Darling.”
Applejack obeyed – it never did any good to fight with Rarity. They occupied the same spots they had drinking the tea, though Rarity knelt facing Applejack and took each hand in her own.
“Look at me.”
Rarity’s eyes were brighter than the snow, bluer than her jacket. Applejack was never the best with eye contact, and couldn’t suppress a gulp.
Rarity’s eyebrows furrowed up, her expression wavering from its stern beginnings. “I hate the way you’re treating me.”
“Sorry,” Applejack said, then squinted away. What did she do? They were all under stress, but she hadn’t snapped or yelled or…
“I’m not made of glass,” Rarity said, tightening her grip. Much smaller than Applejack’s hands, but they had strength. “I’m not a helpless damsel who needs protecting. We need to work together to get through this, and that means you need to let me help you.”
Applejack immediately put on a wide grin, hiding behind folksy humor. “Shucks, Rares, don’t worry about that. I got us into this mess, I’ll get us out.”
Rarity’s softening vanished in a heartbeat, and her glare returned. “No. What did I say? None of that. It wasn’t your fault, and I tire of repeating the obvious. I refuse to sit here uselessly any longer.”
“You’re making more water,” Applejack noted.
“Which is warm and easy and primarily involves waiting. We can take shifts, and that is just what we will do. Look at you – right by the fire, and you’re still shivering!”
It was warmer inside, but not by much. Applejack nodded and hugged herself, pushing from their bed to hunch over the flames. “Why ain’t you?”
“Because I haven’t been working up a sweat for two days in the same clothes.” Rarity pointed to their overnight bags, stowed safely in a corner. “Put on your spares. Wash yourself with the hot water a bit. Take stock, and maybe see if you can make the bed a little less terrible.”
She stood abruptly, hefting the ax. “I shall ‘tag in,’ as they say!”
“Wait – wait!”
Applejack stood as well, one hand up in a ‘stop’ motion. “Hold the phone. You ever use one of those before?”
Rarity stuck out her lip. “I’m not an idiot, Darling.”
“Grab that big stick over there. Show me you know how.”
“Applejack, I assure you that–”
“Rares.”
The words had finality, arresting the argument in its tracks. Applejack folded her arms, chin tilt down, frowning as Rarity lapsed to silence.
Applejack breathed in deep, ignoring the twinge in her shoulder. She let it out with a small chuckle, smiling slowly.
“We’re going to get out of this,” Applejack began. Rarity held her gaze and said nothing. “We got water, and we got heat. The food situation will get mighty uncomfortable but it ain’t like we’re stranded for months. We’ll be fine. But one of the ways we might not be fine is if some damn-fool thing happens. If you cut yourself real bad, or… or make like me and push yourself past the limit, getting yourself sweaty and sick.”
She gestured to the ax in Rarity’s hand. “I’ll show you how to use that right. Stick to the smaller branches, the ones you can chop enough to break in just a few swings. Don’t climb no trees, don’t go out of sight of the shelter. And pay powerful close attention each and every time you swing that. If something bad happens it won’t be on the first swing, but the fiftieth after you get careless.”
Rarity took a breath of her own, then nodded. She chopped one of the longer branches for Applejack, who corrected her grip and let her go again. Then, with a last few words of advice, she was off.
Applejack hesitantly turned on her phone, saw there was still no connection, and turned it back off. Had to be careful with no chance of a recharge. Then taking good advice for exactly that, she stripped herself to the waist in the comparative warmth of the shelter. Peeling the damp undershirt brought fresh chill, but paradoxical warmth quickly followed as her skin dried by the flames.
A quick self-survey confirmed her suspicions, revealing an ugly black bruise on her left shoulder. If she hadn’t been buckled in… well, good thing she was.
Dipping her hand into the heated water, Applejack briskly washed her face, bruise, and pits. She awkwardly dried off with the old undershirt, beat it out as best she could, and hung it on a nail protruding from the wall. The new shirt went on quickly, cold but dry. Applejack reasoned her pajama shirt would work well enough for a third – hopefully the first would dry out if she needed more from there. New socks and a quick change into new underwear completed the swap.
Buttoning on her flannel, sweater, and vest felt downright cozy from there. The headache remained, but it was dull and easily ignored. She puttered outside, actually finding it in her to enjoy the brisk air just as Rarity returned with her first armful of wood.
A thought came, and Applejack nodded towards the car. “Gonna take a quick walk. There’s something needs doing that should have come first.”
“How long?” Rarity asked.
“Just a few minutes.” Applejack winked. “No worries girl, I won’t cheat on my break.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” A grin sneaked around the edges of Rarity’s mouth, and they went their separate ways. The snow was still knee-deep on the slope, but at least it had stopped coming down.
Applejack passed the car, couldn’t quite bring herself to look at it. A close call that could have been so much worse. A lesson to not take anything for granted.
The road was still piled under. A look right and left showed no plow conveniently on the way, and the gray sky warned the snowing could resume at any time.
But the plows might come, too. Rather, they would. Any day now.
Applejack worked briskly. She jammed a long stick into the ground, using her air pump as a hammer to stake it in firm. Then she speared her red handkerchief nice and high by the side of the road.
Bright and red. Even in all this you could see it for miles. At least, she hoped you could. It was the best she could do for now.
The trudge downhill was easier. Rarity lagged with her third load, so Applejack swapped back in. More evergreens for the bed, branches for the fire, and needles for they closest thing they had to a vegetable. Dinner was another roast apple and another bagful of chips, though slicing each apple and adding a pepper packet at least amused their taste buds with variety.
Their stomachs, however, were not content. A few cookies silenced the gurgling. Lethargic and tired, they ate in mostly silence, occupying the same seats as before – Applejack sprawled next to the fire, with Rarity perched upon her knee. Evening passed into full darkness, and they crawled into bed. With the musty car blanket on top, they curled towards each other and were asleep within moments.