Pinkie kicked a rock down the trail of Old Main. It rattled through the silence between her and Rarity.
“Have you seen her today?” Rarity asked.
“No, I offered to pay for a cupcake or something if she came by the shop today. But, she didn’t show.”
“Did she say she was going to?”
“Not really.”
Rarity hummed in assent.
The day was somewhat cloudy, but the cover didn’t block out the warmth of the sun.
“I feel like the weather team is having more than one bad day this week.”
“That makes two of us.” Rarity dabbed her muzzle, no doubt trying to hide her silent tears. “How are you planning to cheer her up?”
“This isn’t that kind of problem.”
“You can always cheer up anypony, darling. Applejack’s woes will be nothing compared to your skills.”
“I don’t think—”
“I can even help you out if you—"
“Her parents are dead, Rarity.”
Rarity flinched and choked out a sob.
“Applejack’s going to need time. Our job is to make sure she has people to talk to about everything and to give her a little bit of time every day to remember why she’ll be okay, even though she misses them.”
“Oh, alright,” she replied, pursing her quivering lips in determination.
Pinkie hoped Rarity wouldn’t ask how she knew what to do.
Rarity took a few moments to compose herself. “You seem to know a lot about deaths in the family.”
Pinkie chose not to respond.
“Sorry, was that too much?”
Pinkie took a deep breath. “No, sorry. I—”
“You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to.”
Pinkie took a deep breath. Rarity would probably tease it out of her later, anyway. “Granny Pie died when I was pretty young. Maybe six or seven? She basically raised me until then. My sisters tried to cheer me up, but it didn’t make the process any easier.”
“I just… I just don’t want Applejack to be so… angry. She barely talked to me and…” Rarity stared at her hooves.
“She’ll be okay. Applejack’s strong. It just… takes a while.”
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s okay, Rarity,” Pinkie said through a soft smile. “Applejack needs our help. And if this helps you understand how she needs help, I’m happy to be here.”
They entered the farmland. Apples still clung to the nearby trees, the sunlight glinting off them.
“I want to see the burnt trees.”
“…Why?”
“I feel like it might inspire me for a dress.”
“Is dead wood in fashion?”
“It could be.”
Pinkie looked at the looming, creaking trees. Their charred, weathered, and hollow forms cut through the fragile greenery and unreachable blue sky.
Pinkie chuckled. “You’re right Rarity, you could make dead wood work in fashion.” She walked towards the dead wood.
Rarity pouted. “Don’t joke about my art. Fashion is serious business.”
“I’m not, my Granny just always told me to Giggle at the Ghosties.”
The stench of smoke mixed with burnt flesh wafted through the air as they entered the last remains of the funeral pyre. Rarity looked up at the wood above her head. The sparse branches, unladen by leaves and apples, were still plentiful enough to prevent even Rarity’s slim frame from avoiding their shade.
“I don’t quite know what you mean by that darling.”
“Just that things that shouldn’t be scary don’t have to be. To laugh at the world when you’re afraid, but not in any danger.”
Rarity stopped to look at one of the burnt husks of a tree. They had ventured far enough in to be surrounded by dead wood.
“It’s… brighter than I expected.” Rarity turned her head. “There’s still vibrant browns here that I didn’t expect. No greenery, of course, but still some brighter browns. There’s almost a red undertone as well.” She hummed.
Pinkie looked around. “What did you think of the Pyrewolf?”
“I was surprised the orange worked well with the brown undertones.”
“No, but… it was… weird.”
Rarity walked over to a new tree. “It was an animated, flaming pile of wood; of course it was weird.” She inspected a knot. “I wonder if any creatures nested here. I hope they got out in time.”
“I more mean that it… didn’t look right.”
“It was a terrifying creature from the nightmares of the Everfree, of course it didn’t look right.”
“No, I don’t mean it was terrifying, I mean it… didn’t look like a creature.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean at all this time.”
Pinkie sighed. “I’m not sure I do either.”
Rarity hummed. “I went to Golden Oaks to investigate the nature of the Pyrewolf.”
“Any luck?”
“Well Sorted had to forward the request to the Royal Canterlot Library.”
Rarity lost interest in the tree and turned back to Pinkie. “How much do you think the farm is going to lose from this?”
“I hope not much. It’s a fairly small part of the plot they own.”
“But, this is land that won’t be profitable for another five or so years, I think.”
Pinkie nodded. “Could be pretty bad for AJ. For the whole family.”
“Not to mention two fewer hooves to harvest.”
“Two fewer mouths to feed.”
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe there’s reason to be optimistic. Maybe—”
Pinkie felt her tail twitching.
A snap echoed from the tree Rarity had inspected.
The surprised look on Rarity’s face morphed into fear as Pinkie dashed to her and pushed her out of the way.
On the ground, Pinkie looked over at the splintered remains of the tree.
She pulled herself up, and offered a hoof to Rarity.
“Thank you for that, dear. I’m quite glad I’m not nursing a broken limb today.” She rubbed her side and looked down at where she landed. “Honestly, it felt like I—
In her indent in the ground, she saw a small brass box.
She picked it up. “…landed on something.”
“Is… is that a tinderbox?”
Pinkie inspected it with Rarity. Once Rarity had dusted the ash off the box, the paint displaying Filthy’s General Store logo was still unscathed. The brass casing had no scratches, nor was any dirt or ash stuck to the sides. Opening it, the flint rock was still included, there was still some included tinder, and the fire steel held only a few noticeable scratches.
“What is a tinderbox doing here?” Pinkie asked
Rarity looked up into the burnt trees. She watched them for a moment.
“Arson.”
Pinkie’s gut dropped. “But… but the Pyrewolf—”
Rarity turned to her abruptly, “Which you said looked wrong. Why? What was wrong about it?”
“I… I don’t know…”
Rarity hummed. “Well, do you think the Apples would have a tinderbox on them?”
“Well…”
“No, I’ve seen their Tinderbox. Theirs is old and kept in a wooden box. Unless they decided to upgrade this year, I don’t think it’s theirs.”
“Rarity,” Pinkie whispered, “you’re saying someone killed Applejack’s parents.”
“And I’m right. We found a tinderbox right where an arson was committed. Right in the middle of dead wood and ash. You can’t tell me it’s the… the Flaming Tinderwolf!”
“We’ve seen the Pyrewolf. That’s a perfectly good reason for the fire other than arson.”
“Which Applejack didn’t think was real until yesterday and which you said looked weird,” Rarity said as she poked Pinkie in the chest. “How did it look weird? You said, what, it didn’t look like a creature?”
Rarity’s pleading eyes urged Pinkie on. “Yes.” Pinkie looked away from Rarity. “But we still can’t tell Applejack or anyone about this. Not until we know something’s up.”
“She’s the only one who would know about the tinderbox. We have to talk to her about it.”
“I have to—,” Pinkie shouted.
Rarity flinched.
She took a breath. “It’ll just be another way for her to keep herself from processing her grief.”
Rarity liked her lips. “Alright, we don’t have to tell Applejack till we’re sure, but we should at least look around for any more evidence.”
Rarity started brushing through the ash and sticks. “I’m glad you’re around to keep me from anything brash.”
Pinkie sighed and started sifting, too.
The summer sun beat down. Pinkie wondered how much they could possibly find in ash and dead wood. The sunset had snuck upon them and Rarity had started mumbling to herself in frustration. “I swear, there should be something around here."
Pinkie caught a faint smell of acidic sulfur. “Do you smell that?”
“Smell what, darling?”
Pinkie followed the scent between the trees. The smell led her to something partially covered in the dirt. It felt round, long, and smooth. Pinkie lowered her head to the ground. Brushing away the ash and a piece of dead wood, she found a cord, three or four hooves long. She pulled it out of the debris, while Rarity stared at it in confusion. The ends were squished and stretched, almost like somepony had melted them. She wobbled the cord and it flopped readily. She sat down and used her two hooves to stretch it.
“A rubber cord.” Pinkie said pensively.
“What’d I say!” Rarity exclaimed. “Ah yes, a rubber cord, now it all makes sense.” She smiled contentedly to herself, then frowned. “Okay, wait, no. What’s the importance of a rubber cord?”
Pinkie looked out over the trees. She watched their fluid, swaying movements. She looked at Rarity, her tail swished, flowing as a single, unbroken object.
“It’s a puppet.” Pinkie said calmly.
“I thought you said it was a rubber cord, darling.”
“No, not the cord. The Pyrewolf!” Pinkie exclaimed as she stood up. “It’s movements weren’t smooth, like an animal, or even a normal Timberwolf, would be. They were choppy, like someone was pulling on puppet cords. Like this one!” Pinkie held up the cord to Rarity.
“I’m not sure I’m quite familiar with the operation of puppets, dear.”
“I tried out ventriloquism while I was in Manehattan,” Pinkie said quickly. “I helped out with a Summer Sun festival once; we made a giant puppet float of Celestia. The designer told me we had to use thick rubber cords like this one to prevent them from snapping when we moved the mouth or hooves.
“And it had to be here in the Pyrewolf, look.” Pinkie showed Rarity one of the ends. “The ends are all melty, it’s like the cord got too close to the fire, but only at the ends. It must’ve been in the puppet, but when the fire burned through some of the wood it melted the cord. If it was in the forest the whole time, the middle would be melty too!”
“My goodness!” Rarity’s surprise quickly flowed into curiosity. “You got all that from one rubber cord?”
“No, I had to see the puppet too.”
They giggled lightly to themselves in the remains of an apple orchard.
“We better go confirm our suspicions with Applejack,” Rarity said, walking towards the farm.
“Shouldn’t we see if we can’t find any more clues?”
“We’ve left Applejack alone long enough. If nothing else, we can come back to investigate further. At least then we’ll have an extra set of hooves.”
Pinkie looked forlornly at the woods.
She followed along dutifully. “We should make sure she’s eaten before we talk about this.”
As they approached the farm, they could hear the loud smack of hooves on trees. Deep guttural grunts echoed out from one of the nearby trees. Applejack came into view bucking. Many of the apples weren’t caught in the bucket on her back and many more already lay strewn on the ground. Rarity’s magic started to lift the apples, dozens at a time and put them into the buckets on the cart Applejack had started loading.
Applejack looked around. When she saw them, Pinkie noticed the empty expression on her face.
“How-dy, Applejack” Rarity said, her faux-Canterlot accent butchering the word.
“He-hey there… darlin’,” Applejack replied.
Rarity giggled.
Applejack didn’t. There were bags under her bloodshot eyes. She smelt faintly like salt and rotting eggs.
Pinkie looked up at the setting sun. “You’re out bucking pretty late.”
“I—” Applejack looked away. “I didn’t want to keep yelling at Apple Bloom.”
“Have you or your family eaten yet today?”
“I-I’ve eaten.”
“What did you eat?” Rarity asked.
“Uh… apples.”
“Apples?”
Applejack’s brow furrowed and her voice raised “We eat apples all the time! It’s not unusual for the Ap—the—us to eat apples.”
Rarity flinched.
“Why don’t we get you some more food, all the same,” Pinkie said, diplomatically. “You’ve been bucking all day, and you must be hungry.”
Her face softened and she searched the ground. “I…” She looked at the farmhouse. “I gotta keep bucking. We… we don’t… have as many hooves. I… We need to do a lot of bucking if we’re gonna finish the harvest before the apples start to rot.”
“Yes, but the apples will be here tomorrow.” Rarity replied.
Applejack shouted, “How do you know they’ll still be here tomorrow?”
Rarity and Pinkie flinched back.
Applejack turned away. “I…,” her face scrunched up and tears welled in her eyes, “I’m gonna keep yelling in there.” She wiped them away.
“We know, dear. Just make sure to yell at us instead of anypony else.”
Pinkie puffed out her chest and raised her head. “We can take it!”
Pinkie and Rarity led Applejack to the farmhouse. Pinkie asked her what all she wanted to eat, but Applejack just shrugged.
Pinkie asked where her siblings and Granny were.
“Apple Bloom and Granny are in bed. Dunno where Big Mac is.”
Pinkie left Rarity to lead Applejack and checked the barn. Big McIntosh was chewing on some hay, sitting on a bale in the corner of the barn. He stared into the ceiling and didn’t react when Pinkie approached him.
“Hey,” she said.
He blinked, looked at her, and nodded.
“I’m gonna make some food for every pony again. Do you want anything special?”
Big Mac thought for a moment, then shook his head.
“Nothing? I can go get groceries if I need to.”
Big McIntosh shook his head.
“Do you want me to bring the food out here? Or do you wanna eat inside the house?”
After a moment, Big McIntosh shrugged.
“I’ll bring the food I make out here. If you want to come in, you can follow me in or come in when you’re ready.”
Big Mac didn’t say anything to her.
“See you soon!” Pinkie said as she left.
Big Mac didn’t respond. But he didn’t have to.
Pinkie trotted back to the farmhouse. Rarity was sitting with Applejack on the couch. Rarity was talking about a dress she had seen. Applejack had on a blank stare.
Pinkie went upstairs. She could hear Apple Bloom crying in her room.
She knocked on the door.
“I’m—I’m sorry, AJ, I didn’t mean to—” she said through sniffles.
“It’s Pinkie. I came to make some food. Do you mind if I come in.”
“O—okay.”
“I don’t have to come in if you don’t want me to.”
Apple Bloom paused. “Can… Can I be alone?”
“Sure, I just wanted to know if you wanted anything special to eat.”
“Can… can you make Pancakes. I… I want some apple jam with them.”
“Of course! Breakfast for dinner is one of my specialties!” Pinkie said with a smile.
“Th… Thanks Pinkie.”
“Do you want me to bring up the pancakes?”
“Yeah,” Apple Bloom responded quickly.
Pinkie went across the hall to Granny’s room.
She knocked on the door.
After a short while a scratchy, hoarse voice said, “Come in.”
Pinkie slowly opened the door. Granny Smith was sat on a rocking chair, staring out a window into the southern orchard.
“How are you?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s okay, you don’t have to know.”
Granny Smith kept staring out the window. A few leaves shook off one of the trees near the farmhouse as a squirrel jumped down.
“Do you want anything special to eat?”
Granny smiled as she turned, “I think pancakes sounds great, missy.”
“I’ll whip them up. Do you want me to bring them to you?”
“Nah, I’ll come down and see… see some friendly faces.”
Granny turned back to the window.
Pinkie quietly shut the door.
Apple Bloom really seemed to love the pancakes. She let Pinkie open the door. After she had gotten a few bites, she at least had the energy to say how rotten the past couple of days had been.
"First Pa couldn’t bring me to the park, then Diamond Tiara called me a liar, now AJ’s yelling at me and I don’t know why, and—and…” she trailed off, not knowing the words. “I just want my mama,” she said through the food in her mouth.
“I can bring you to the park tomorrow morning if you like?”
Apple Bloom took a deep breath. “Can we go Saturday, instead? I don’t think I’ll have the energy tomorrow.”
“Of course!” Pinkie said excitedly.
Apple Bloom didn’t say anything, but Pinkie didn’t expect her to.
Pinkie eventually left Apple Bloom to eat her pancakes in peace.
Big McIntosh didn’t acknowledge them when she went to drop them off, but Pinkie thought he’d eat them just the same.
At the table, Granny Smith said a few words. All about how much older she and Rarity looked since the last time Granny had seen them.
Applejack said even less. What she did say was angry and short. But not even Granny argued back.
Mostly, the conversation was carried by Pinkie and Rarity talking about nothing in particular. Avoiding their parents and Pinkie’s Granny. Focusing on bakery customers, dress stitching, cupcake recipes, Sweetie Belle, Gummy. Everything but anything.
Eventually, they had all finished their meal. Rarity and Pinkie promised they’d get the dishes done “right.” Granny excused herself. Applejack stayed quiet as the stairs creaked.
They waited a while as they washed the dishes.
Rarity whispered to Pinkie, “Is now the right time?”
“It’s the best we’re going to get.”
“Applejack, dear,” Rarity said louder as she approached the table.
Applejack grunted.
Rarity put the Tinderbox in front of Applejack as she dried a plate with the dish towel in her magic. “Do you recognize this?”
Applejack furrowed her brows at Rarity. “Why—”
“I promise it matters, darling,” she said, putting her hoof on Applejack’s.
Applejack pulled her hoof away. “It looks like one of Filthy’s Tinderboxes he sells at Barnyard Bargains.”
“Yes, but do you recognize this one?”
Applejack breathed out heavily through her nose. “If this is some kind of strange gift, it sure is a twisted one.”
“It’s not a gift, darling. I just need to know if you recognize this one.”
Applejack stared hard at it. “Now that you mention it…”
Pinkie stopped washing dishes and turned back towards Applejack.
“It looks like a stupid, brass box,” she said pounding her hoof on the table.
“Can you—”
Applejack yelled loud enough for “Do you want to see my family’s Tinderbox or something? Are you comparing Tinderboxes for some dumb fashion reason? Do you need to compare the—I don’t know—hoof couture—er, no—contrast or glint or whatever to my pa’s rotting wood box?”
Rarity had flinched away from the table and dropped the plate.
But, Pinkie’s tail twitch let her catch it, just in time.
“No, dear, I just wanted to be sure your family hadn’t gotten a new one recently.”
“So this isn’t a gift, but you’re gonna get a different Tinderbox present later. Great,” Applejack said, slumping onto the table and rolling her eyes.
“No… we…”
“Spit it out, Rarity; I’m done playin’ games today.”
“We—”
“Do you know much about ventriloquism?” Pinkie interjected.
Rarity and Applejack seemed to suddenly remember Pinkie was in the room.
Applejack sighed. “No, now—”
“Has you ever seen a ventriloquism act?”
“What are you on about?”
“I found the tinderbox in the orchard,” Rarity said, “where the fire was. We wanted to make sure your parents hadn’t brought it with them.”
Confusion mixed with the anger on Applejack’s face. “What am I supposed to do with that?”
“We… don’t think the fire was started by a monster.”
“What are you talkin’ about? I saw it with my own eyes.”
“I think it was a puppet,” Pinkie interjected.
Applejack sighed harshly. “Why on earth do you think it was a puppet?” Applejack said quietly.
Pinkie pulled out the rubber cord and, stuttering, explained her reasoning.
“I… I guess it’s some weird evidence, but… that doesn’t mean…” Applejack trailed off.
Rarity went to speak, but Pinkie put a hoof on her shoulder. Out of the corner of her eye, Pinkie saw Rarity look at her.
“Okay…” Applejack replied.
The front door creaked.
“Let’s go talk to the guards. If it is an arson, I want professionals looking at it.”
“Arson?” Big McIntosh asked, his eyes firmly trained on Applejack.
“Yeah, Rarity and Pinkie found some weird stuff in the orchard where the fire was.”
“You can’t honestly tell me you think it was arson. You saw the monster, same as me.” His voice was cool and calm.
“It was a puppet.” Pinkie interjected.
Big McIntosh turned to Pinkie. She got the distinct feeling she had upset the man of the house again. “That’s an awful big puppet. Awful dumb thing to light your children’s toy on fire too.”
“Let her explain, Big Mac!” Applejack shouted. “I thought it was crazy too but—”
“No, go ahead, we have to buck all these apples, the two of us, but make it just me for the week while you go off on a fool’s errand—”
“It’s not a fool’s errand! If you’d just listen to her—”
“They’re gone AJ!” Big McIntosh shouted through tears.
“I know! And they’d’ve been fine if you had come into that fire with me!”
He got real quiet and barely said anything above a whisper. “Pretending it was some kind of—of murder isn’t going to bring them back.”
“Fine, be a coward about this. Your sister—your sister—is going to find out what happened—without you. It’ll be just me again. Ignorin’ the evidence won’t mean it’s not real. Go ahead, ignore the weird Tinderbox in the orchard. Ignore the puppetry cords. Ignore the fact that nopony—and I mean nopony!—has ever heard of a Pyrewolf in the seven decades we’ve lived here!”
But Big McIntosh had already climbed the stairs and slammed the door upstairs. Rarity put a hoof on Applejack’s shoulder. Applejack leaned into a hug with her and began to cry. Pinkie hugged them both.