It was another glorious day under Celestia’s sun. You, ever being the early riser, were up with the sunrise. No sense lazing in bed all day when there was work that needed to be done. With a spring in your step you practically dressaged through your well trotted morning routine. Faster than a jackalope, breakfast was made, eaten, and cleared.
You plopped your Stetson on your head and made your way out the front door, your hooves striding around the squeaky floor boards so as to not wake Granny. Your plan for the day is to load the family wagon and take it to the Ponyville market. Eeyup, today was shaping to be another perfect day on the Apple farm.
You were just finishing up with packing the last crate onto the wagon. Somepony behind you cleared their throat. Startled, you wheeled around, your heart racing. You didn't mean to jump but some pony sneaking up on you when you thought you were alone was a right ol' fright.
It was that weird looking changeling that sometimes lived with the mostly-harmless monkey creature, the human known as Anonymous, North of Ponyville near the Ghastly Gorge Flyway. The mixed-up looking changeling that has Twilight’s face, Rainbow’s wings, and your tail. Spooky little thing.
"Oh, uh, hey... you," You say, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "Are ya here to see me?"
The changeling shook their head. It seemed to have a different purpose for being here.
You furrowed your brow, pondering who else the changeling might be looking for. "How about Big Mac?" you suggest.
The changeling seemed to blush and shook their head again but a little faster than before. No, you suppose nopony would want to have something like that happen again now that Sugarbell and Mac have hitched up, changeling or not.
“Well, I know you know Applebloom ain’t here,” because they, and the entire town, was at the train station to see her off for her first day of teaching in Seaddle, “So you must be here for Granny.”
The changeling's eyes lit up, and it nodded eagerly, confirming your assumption
“Alright then. You can go on in. She should be in the kitchen. Just uh …”
There was a lot you wanted to say. Granny is getting on in age. And you know - you know - that changelings take in the energies of living things. ‘Be careful’ and ‘Go easy on her’ immediately come to mind but that wouldn't be fair to them. You have come to know this changeling and their history. The why behind the attack on Canterlot. And why they look like Discord shredded photographs of you and your friends and made that collage into a single pony and brought it to life. And about their struggle to find a place in Ponyville.
“… Don’t let her talk your ear off. You know how she is.”
You got a quick nod in reply. They step past you and trot into the house.
Sometimes you can't help but to worry about the little things.
You awoke in your rocking chair with a start. Your mouth was dry and your bones ached. But being still alive is always a good sign.
“Consarn it.” You say, mostly to yourself. “Ah fell asleep ‘gain.“
You don’t hear any noise coming from the house so you suspect Applejack is still in town running the market stall. You can hear the occasional, gentile thumps of hooves hitting tree bark. That’d be Big Macintosh, still gathering apples in the southern field. And given the position of the sun in the sky, Applebloom would be just getting ready to end her class for the day. Plenty of time for another nap. You are Lady Smith, but most ponies nowadays call you Granny.
But something was off. You couldn’t put a wrinkly green hoof on it but the air didn’t feel right.
“There’s a storm a brewin’.” You say. “Eh, little critter?”
Your guest was still here. It had stayed while you dozed off in your rocking chair. It was easy for you to imagine why. Hospitality. Plain and simple.
When it arrived in the early morning, the poor thing looked hungry. The youngins had already cleared and cleaned the breakfast dishes, and made their way out the door for the day. You don’t rightly know what changelings eat but everypony loves apples and the Apple family grows the best apples this side of the Unicorn Mountain range. As you had some already prepared, you brought out a tray of caramel dipped Honeycrisp apples. No pony, or changeling, could resist ‘em. They’re made with love, after all. So, they choose to stay, happily chewing on the sweet treats while you got a little shuteye. You see that they had already finished off two of the twelve on the baking tray. The leftover wooden sticks were a dead giveaway.
“Eeyup. Storm’s a coming. Ah can feel it. Coming in the air. Tonight.”