It was a regular night in Ponyville. The moon was dim and there was a slight mist in the air from the scheduled rain. Just a normal, regular night in Ponyville. Everything was as it always is.
That was perfectly true until there was a large crash in the proximity of Sweet Apple Acres, the best (and only) apple farm in Ponyville.
Maybe this crash was just a distant noise for most ponies in town, but for the Apple family, it certainly was loud.
Big Mac was startled awake. Instead of the early sun that he saw when he woke up, he was presented with the glow of the moon, not to mention the difference between a rooster and a loud crash. Once he recognized what had happened enough to get up, he slowly trotted to the door of his room. He knew that he would have to deal with this, after all, Applejack needed her sleep and there was no question that Applebloom was too young to be getting up at a time like this. Oh, and Granny Smith was Granny Smith.
He slowly made his way outside, feeling the crisp air that he was used to after years of getting up early to work the farm. He overlooked the rows of trees he knew so well, trying to pinpoint where the sound had come from. Even in the dark of the night, the round apples reflected the peaceful light from the moon.
After walking through the rows, Big Mac finally spotted the culprit of the unwanted wake-up call. It was a pegasus, a stallion, to be more specific. Thankfully none of the trees got hurt, but Mac couldn’t say the same for the pegasus. He was just laying on the ground with a crumpled-up box that didn’t look so good either in front of him. His wings were all crumpled and bent. Now, Big Mac knew next to nothing about pegasi, but he was pretty darn sure that that was in no way what healthy wings were supposed to look like. It was hard to see any details in the figure at this time of night.
The mushed-up figure stirred and came to a sitting position as Big Mac watched.
“Euughhh, hi there, sorry for …. dropping in on you… ehehhee…heh.” the pegasi managed to get out. His voice was hoarse and wobbly. His words sounded squished together, if his voice was an apple, it would be an Acklam Russet apple.
Big Mac plopped his butt down onto the grass, next to the wrecked pegasus. The grass was damp and cool.
“...Ya better get yer wings fixed up.” The pegasus looked over at the farm stallion sitting next to him, who was looking up at the sky.
“That would probably be a good idea… b-but I do NOT want to uh…wreck your trees until then…. nice trees by the way…” The voice still has the fluxation that it had a minute ago.
There was a pause.
Big Mac exhaled, his warm breath clashing with the sting of the cold night.
“Eeeyup.” Big Mac drawled.
The stars were shining pinpricks across the sky, complementing the full moon. Big Mac wondered if that was where this mysterious pony came from. Not Cloudsdale, higher. That was a stupid thought, but stupid thoughts were things that kept Big Mac entertained throughout the day. Stupid thoughts and fantasies. This was not the way Big Mac would have chosen to spend his night, but it was pretty at least. He would always be proud that this beauty was something that would always be there, just like Sweet Apple Acres.
The unwelcomed visitor fussed with his wings, trying to get the feathers smoothed out. Big Mac reminded himself that the right word was "preening". That was one of the only things that he picked up from Rainbow Dash's expositions about how great it was to be able to fly.
The pegasus was going to have to preen for a long time if he wanted to get his wings back to their regular appearance.
“Well….I am just …going to go….” The pegasus said after his wings were as fixed as they could be. He hobbled out of a sitting position and into an upright stand.
Before Big Mac could even respond, the pegasus was picking up the smashed box and trotted through the trees. His walk was wobbly but sturdy enough to carry him to his destination, wherever that was.
“My name is Spacecake!!! REMEMBER IT!!!” His words got quieter as the pegasus, apparently named Spacecake, walked away.
That was enough time wasted for Big Mac, the sun was starting to rise and he had to get the trees ready for applebuck season. He figured that was going to be the last time he saw that pony, and since no trees were hurt he wouldn’t even need to think about what had happened. Despite the unorthodox start to the day, all the work throughout the clockwork motion of the sun was as productive as any other day.
At the end of the day the orchard was as beautiful as always. The reds and oranges of the sunset matched the variation of the apples but didn’t blend in. Every tree stood out in its own way, Big Mac knew these trees well and had the pleasure of working with them every day. They had some sort of a mutual agreement, he and his sister would nourish them and keep them safe while they would provide the product that kept his family together; apples.
Big Mac was never good at talking to people, everyone knew that, which is what made his job so great. He understood what the trees needed without having to talk to them or even communicate. Every day he gave his all into doing what he did best.
Sure, it was hard work, but it was simple work that came naturally to him after years of working.
He knew where his life was going and he knew it was staying here.
Nothing would change.