"Pinkie?" Applejack nudged the door open. "What're ya doin' in here, sugarcu--whoa nelly."
"Please... don't look..." Pinkie shrunk further into the corner of her room, brushing the pink dye over the dull grey strands of her mane. "Please."
Applejack's tone shifted as she stepped inside. "'Salright, Ah couldn't care less if you're really pink or not. Won't tell a soul, can promise ya that. Anythin' Ah can getcha, Pinks?"
"A... lemonade would be nice. Strawberry lemonade if there's any left. Ask Mrs. Cake."
Applejack nodded, and left the room.