Twilight, Rainbow Dash, and Fluttershy, along with Fast Pace huddled, around the large oak table, examining the test results of Dizzy. Fifty pages of raw data, neatly compiled and bound, lay before them
Fast Pace had been poring over the mathematics section, his brow furrowed in concentration. "This is impossible," he muttered.
When Twilight first laid eyes on the results, she too had been struck by a wave of doubt. But as the revelations sank in, a sense of giddy exhilaration flooded her being. "She's a Prodigy!" she proclaimed, her eyes shining with pride.
"There's no way. Discord wasn't this smart—she must have cheated." Rainbow Dash said with suspicion.
Twilight's bright smile never faltered. "Impossible! I poured every ounce of my magic into a deceit detection spell. It never once went off during the test."
"Which means she would've had to dispel it, and you would've sensed that level of interference," Fast Pace said.
Exactly!" Twilight exclaimed, clapping her hooves together. "She answered every one of them herself and got them all correct! Even the trigonometry questions—look at this elegant work!” She levitated a sheet of sketch paper, covered in Dizzy's scribbled calculations, toward them. The chaotic scribblings could hardly be called elegant. "She rivals Star Swirl's genius."
Rainbow Dash eyed the paper with an unimpressed look. "Twilight, I don't speak or read egghead."
With a nervous chuckle, Twilight said, "Sorry, it's rare to come across someone with a scholar's understanding of a subject."
"Why are a lot of her answers glowing, Twilight?" Fluttershy asked. She had been looking through the Language-Psychoanalysis section.
Twilight cringed, her ears folding back. "That's...the deceit detection spell."
Flying over, Rainbow Dash scanned the pages, her eyes landing on a random prompt: 'If you were Midnight and saw Sunbreeze crying, what would you do?' Dizzy's answer, glowing faintly, read: 'Ask her what's wrong and comfort her.'
"So, she did lie," Rainbow Dash accused. "And a lot by the looks of it"
"Even after I explicitly instructed her to be truthful," Twilight added, her tone laced with disappointment.
Rainbow Dash groaned in frustration. "And that means the test can't tell us anything useful now!"
Fast Pace shook his head. "Not necessarily. While the deception muddies the waters, there's still a wealth of information we can glean from her responses." He gazed at the others, his eyes betraying a glimmer of intrigue. "Her lies can illuminate the areas she feels uncomfortable or insecure about, while the truths can help us construct a more accurate profile of her character."
Fluttershy perked up, her soft voice carrying a note of realization. "Like how she seems to value loyalty?"
"Precisely!" Fast Pace confirmed with a nod.
Rainbow Dash scoffed. "Loyal!?” She questioned, arching an eyebrow. “What answer gave you that idea?"
Without a word, Fluttershy slid several sheets across the table towards her friend, the parchments rustling against the oak surface.
Rainbow Dash eyed the papers warily before leaning in to scrutinize the contents. "I'll be the judge of that..." she grumbled, her brow furrowing as she scanned the lines of text.
Twilight chuckled, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "Applejack might be right in comparing Dizzy's personality to Rainbow's."
"Looking at her history answers, definitely," Fast Pace playfully jibed.
"At least something about Dizzy makes sense," Twilight said, happily.
Fast Pace looked back to the many untruthful answers. "Twilight, Does your spell detect purposefully wrong answers?"
With a roll of the eyes, Twilight said, "It detects deceit, you tell me."
Fast Pace met her gaze, his expression unfazed by her mild rebuke. "Just covering bases," he replied evenly. "Anyway, her lack of historical knowledge could corroborate her reported interest in history books—so add that to the notes, Fluttershy."
Twilight's expression grew pensive as she contemplated the implications of their findings. "I think with all of this and the physical tests, it's fair to assume Dizzy is her own being.”
Rainbow Dash glanced up from the papers she had been scrutinizing, her brow furrowed in concern. "Even if she's not Discord, there's gotta be a reason he made her. And whatever that reason is, it can't be good."
Twilight offered her friend a reassuring nod. "And that's why we're conducting further observations later. Don't worry, Rainbow Dash, we'll keep Ponyville safe."
The pegasus mare's features softened slightly, though her eyes remained guarded. "I know you will, Twilight. It's just... after everything that happened, I can't help it."
Fluttershy placed a comforting hoof on Rainbow's shoulder. "We understand, but we can't let our fears cloud our judgment. Dizzy deserves a fair chance, just like…any other pony." Despite her words, even Fluttershy seemed slightly conflicted with what she said.
"She’s right," Twilight chimed in. "We've gathered enough data to establish that Dizzy is her own individual, separate from Discord. Now, it's time to get to know her, to understand her intentions and motivations."
Rainbow Dash heaved a sigh and nodded, her tension ebbing slightly. "At the first sign of trouble, we put a stop to it. No more risks, no more chances."
"Agreed,” Fast Pace interjected. “The safety of Ponyville and its citizens comes first, no matter what."
After Adam had finished Twilight's tests, he felt like an idiot. He hated the fact that his lack of knowledge about the strange world had left him fumbling through many of the questions, a harsh reminder of the moment of weakness that had led him to Equestria in the first place. The dejection he felt was enough for him to hide away until the next day, retreating to the solitude of Rarity’s guest room, intent on wallowing in his own despair until Twilight inevitably arrived to inform him that she wouldn't be teaching him after all.
However, Rarity had other plans in mind.
The fashionista had barged into the guest room with a bountiful breakfast. Her intrusion, unfortunately, functioned as Adam's alarm clock, rousing him from his fitful slumber. He immediately tried to shoo her away, but his efforts were futile—especially since he had sleepily muttered "Get the fuck out…" in front of the mare. He thought of himself as dumb for a new reason afterward.
His punishment came swiftly: an hour-long lecture from Rarity over the ‘indecency of such words in pony society,’ punctuated by a now-cold breakfast. Afterward, she conscripted him into assisting her with dressmaking, a task Adam didn't necessarily mind, as it gave a sense of usefulness. However, after thirty minutes of monotonously handing her requested items, boredom began to set in—a calculated second phase of his penance.
"Can I at least watch you make it?" Adam ventured, his voice tinged with exasperation.
Rarity responded with a smug smirk, her tone carrying a melodic lilt. "Nope! This masterpiece requires utmost secrecy. Now, hoof me my blue thread, dear."
Adam groaned, resigning himself to rummaging through Rarity's meticulously organized thread collection, silently begging for salvation from his bordem.
After some time, salvation did come for Adam, as he heard the sound of Fast Pace's return. From the parlor, the stallion's voice called out, "Dizzy I need you to come with me."
A sparky grin spread across Adam's face, "So long!" He cheered, Triumphantly making his way towards the door.
Rarity tutted disapprovingly. "You go when I say!"
Adam paused mid-stride, throwing a defiant glance over his shoulder. "You're not my mom!" he countered, quickly making his exit before she could protest further.
"Well you certainly need one, missy!" Rarity answered on deaf ears.
Adam eagerly rushed into the parlor, his excitement palpable as the question he'd been burning to ask since waking up tumbled from his lips. "Will Twilight teach me magic?"
Caught off guard by his cheery disposition, Fast Pace regarded Adam with a befuddled expression before an amused smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Nope," he replied, his tone betraying a hint of mirth.
The single word hung in the air, its impact instantaneous. "W-what..." Adam muttered. Of course, Twilight wouldn't deign to tutor someone she likely viewed as a drooling idiot, unworthy of her time and effort.
Why do I do this...he berated himself, a familiar sense of self-loathing creeping in. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, squandered. Why can't I do anything without my hand being held!?
Fast Pace's voice cut through Adam's spiraling thoughts, the stallion's words filtering in through the fog of self-doubt. "—hear me?"
"Yeah, I-I did," Adam mumbled, barely holding himself together and avoiding the embarrassment of crying.
"I expected a bit more enthusiasm," Fast Pace commented.
"Enthusiasm?" Adam growled, his earlier excitement evaporating, replaced by a simmering frustration.
Leaning back, Fast Pace regarded the filly with a measured gaze. "Yes? You seem to like learning."
Adam straightened, squaring his shoulders as he closed the distance between them. "And that means I would be sooo excited to be rejected!"
With a gentle hoof, Fast Pace pressed against Adam's chest, gently pushing him back. "Calm down, my little joke landed flat it seems. Twilight's teaching you, not just magic, but everything she knows—minus math."
Adam froze, his anger dissipating as swiftly as it had flared. "She-she is?"
"Of course she is." Fast Pace's tone was reassuring. "She's never met a filly as bright as you, and it's her honor to teach you."
Taken aback, Adam repeated, "Her honor?"
With a soft smile, Fast Pace said, "Her honor. Why did you think she wouldn't?"
Adam looked to the side, self-doubt evident. "I couldn't answer half of the questions.”
"So," Fast Pace scoffed. "It was a placement test, not a qualifying test."
Adam mulled over the stallion's words. "She's going to teach me magic?"
"Yes," Fast Pace said amused. "Now, do you remember the apple orchard?"
"My cutie-mark is…stranger than usual," Fast Pace said as he led Adam, who walked with an uncharacteristic peppiness, towards Sweet Apple Acres. "But it symbolizes my speed in combat, drive to defend Equestria, and ability to use messaging spells."
Ever since Rarity had explained cutie-marks to Adam, he had been stealthily glancing at the marks of passing ponies and guessing their names—after pushing through the embarrassment of essentially rubber-necking their asses. Gradually, he got curious enough to ask about Fast Pace's mark: a black and red sun with a sword shooting forth—completely unrelated to his name.
"Where's the symbolism for messaging?" Adam asked, his brow furrowing in contemplation.
"The sword," Fast Pace answered. "It doubles as a beam of light. I quite literally deliver at the speed of light. “He offered Adam a wry smile. "Not all cutie marks are so straightforward. For example, most magic talents are represented by astronomy."
Adam's mind conjured the image of Twilight's mark. "Like Twilight's?"
"Exactly!" Fast Pacs chirped.
As they continued their leisurely stroll, the stallion posed a question of his own. "So, why are you so interested in magic?"
Adam's steps didn't falter as he replied, his voice brimming with unbridled enthusiasm. "Why wouldn't I be? You can do anything with magic, or at least Discord could. And if he could, then so can I."
Fast Pace tisked, regarding the filly with a measured gaze. "What would you even do with magic like that?"
Adam's gaze drifted, ruminating as he surveyed their surroundings. "I don't know," he finally admitted, his mood deflating slightly. "Maybe do my supposed job and topple tyranny—that's pretty chaotic."
"How about joining the Guard?" Fast Pace offered, his tone carrying a note of suggestion.
"Sitting around, keeping law and order? That's not chaotic," Adam argued. "I know you're worried I might destroy Equestria or something, but that's not the chaos I want."
"Never said it was," Fast Pace countered. "Equestria strikes at the heart of tyranny, and it's easier to have comrades than to do it alone."
As their conversation carried them through the gates of Sweet Apple Acres, Adam couldn't help but marvel at the transformation that had taken place since his last visit. The land that had once been besieged by chaos, dotted with random objects and transfigured fauna, now appeared nearly untouched. Only the occasional pink cloud or stray knickknack remained, a subtle reminder of the pandemonium that had once reigned. The transfigured crops had been removed, leaving freshly tilled earth in their wake.
"This place looks better," Adam commented, his gaze sweeping over the revitalized orchard.
Fast Pace hummed in agreement, leading Adam to a cliché looking farmhouse. Approaching the door, he delivered three perfectly spaced knocks, the sound echoing softly against the weathered wood.
From within, a scratchy groan preceded an exasperated voice. "I'm coming!" Adam fought the urge to burst into laughter, a well-timed jab from Fast Pace keeping his amusement in check.
The door swung open, revealing the oldest mare Adam had encountered thus far, Celestia notwithstanding. Her once-blonde mane had faded to a pristine white, framing an olive-colored coat adorned with a cutie mark depicting a pie.
"Ooo, well if it isn't the rumored 'filly of chaos,'" the older mare said with a southern twang thicker than Applejack's. "I expected ya' to be a bit uglier."
Adam was caught off guard at the blunt, backhanded, compliment. "Thanks…but I know what I look like—so no need to lie."
The mare's expression morphed into a frown. "Deary, you ain't ugly. It was unkind of me to say something like that to a filly so cute." A warm smile returned to her weathered features. "My name is Granny Smith."
"I don't want to be cute…" Adam grumbled under his breath. "My Name's Dizzy," he said, slightly disgruntled.
Granny Smith regarded him with a confused expression before realization dawned, prompting a knowing chuckle. "Quite the name, Sweet thing," she remarked. Turning her appraising gaze towards Fast Pace, her expression took on a flirtatious intrigue. "And you must be that 'mind-controlled guard,' ain't ya?" She whistled appreciatively. "What's a handsome fella like you doin' in it? By your looks, you spend more time prettyin' than trainin', don't ya."
Unfazed by the mare's comments, Fast Pace responded with practiced diplomacy. "Mrs. Smith, we're here to see Applejack."
"Phooey, you're no fun," Granny Smith pouted before gesturing towards the back of the property. "Applejack's waitin' for ya' in the central orchard. Just go 'round back and follow the path."
"Thank you, Mrs. Smith," Fast Pace offered with a polite nod.
Granny Smith leveled a stern gaze at the stallion, raising a hoof in a chiding gesture. "You better quit that right now! Ain't no guest of mine gonna be that formal. Call me Granny Smith – Granny for short if you want."
"Of course…Granny," Fast Pace acquiesced to appease the old mare, which got a chortle out of Adam.
After bidding Granny Smith farewell, they followed her directions, venturing deeper into the heart of the orchard. It didn't take long before the harsh sounds of bark being struck reached their ears, heralding their approach to the harvesting efforts. Rounding a bend, they discovered Applejack and two other ponies engaged in the task of gathering apples.
Adam watched, transfixed, as they employed a simple yet ingenious technique—bucking the trees with enough force to dislodge the fruit, allowing it to cascade perfectly into the waiting baskets below. "How are they doing that?" he asked, his gaze following Applejack as she effortlessly executed the maneuver, a torrent of apples finding their mark.
"Apple bucking? Lots of strength and bits of magic," Fast Pace explained.
"That's how the apples aren't missing the buckets?" Adam continued, to which Fast Pace confirmed with a nod.
Applejack, having noticed their arrival, trotted over to meet them halfway. "Howdy, you two! Good to see ya'll again," she greeted warmly. "I hope Granny wasn't too much trouble."
Adam shrugged nonchalantly. "I've met worse."
A hearty chuckle escaped Applejack's lips. "I'm sure you have." She gestured towards the rest of her kin. "How's about you both come meet the rest of the family?"
Leading them over to a bright red stallion with a ginger mane, currently in the midst of filling several buckets with apples, Applejack made the introductions. "This here's my brother, Big Macintosh. If you ever need anything, Mac is always willing to help!"
"Eeyup," Big Mac rumbled in affirmation, punctuating his response by striking a nearby tree with a single, well-placed buck, filling every surrounding basket with fresh apples.
"And out here helping me and Big Mac is..." Applejack trailed off, her gaze sweeping the area. "Applebloom, get your hind quarters over here!"
From behind a nearby apple tree, the voice of a filly rang out, tinged with trepidation. "But sis! That there's Discord you're talking to!"
"No, it ain't!" Applejack shot back, her tone firm. "Now get over here, Applebloom, and say hello. You should be happy, because of Dizzy here you're getting your tree house back."
Instantly, Applebloom poked her head out from her hiding spot, eyes sparkling with excitement. "Really?!" she exclaimed, hopping out from her refuge and galloping towards the group. The bright pink bow in her red mane bounced wildly with each energetic stride. Halfway through her eager approach, she slowed her pace, proceeding with a touch more caution.
Upon reaching the others, Applebloom reached out and grabbed Adam's hands, shaking them enthusiastically. "Hi, my name's Applebloom...Mr? Discord," she greeted, her tone tinged with suspicion and confusion, unsure of Adam's sex. "Welcome to Sweet Apple Acres. I don't want to make Applejack angry, soooo it's nice to meet you, Discord."
Adam blinked, confused by the filly’s strange introduction. "Hi to you too, I guess,” he responded uncertainly. “I'm not Discord, by the way."
Applebloom tilted her head quizzically. "You sure? It's okay to admit my sister's got you on a leash."
Offense flickered across Adam's features. "I know who I am," he stated firmly. "And it's not Discord! Call me 'Dizzy' or whatever."
"Ok…'Dizzy,'" Applebloom half-heartedly replied.
With a gentle nudge to Applebloom's shoulder, Applejack interjected, "Be nice."
Applebloom rolled her eyes but conceded. "Fine, fine, but don't you think of doing anything more, Dizzy!" With that, she trotted off to rejoin the apple-bucking efforts.
Applejack shook her head, exasperated. "There goes you fillies being friends," she grumbled. "I'll be giving her a real talking to later."
Adam crossed his arms in annoyance. Was his new body, not fourteen? He may not know the intricacy of pony ages, but he did know that there was a difference in interests between a human fourteen-year-old and a twelve-year-old. It irked him to be seen as young enough to be paired with someone so young. "You better," he muttered.
Turning his attention back to Applejack, he posed a question. "So, I'm here to get her treehouse back?"
"Eyup. You see, time is always something we struggle with at the farm—never enough," Applejack explained as she led them toward her brother. "So, you're going to be helping Mac with fixing up the treehouse, and I'll give you some bits. And if you ever need some more bits, Big Mac's always needing help."
"Hm, and here I thought I was here to clean up Discord’s mess," Adam commented.
Applejack shook her head. "You are a little bit—it's his fault the treehouse is in shambles. Besides, it's Fast Pace's job to clean the rest."
Fast Pace raised a questioning brow, prompting Applejack to smirk knowingly. "You ain't sitting around doing nothing, Mr. Guard."
"Thanks for doing this, Twilight," Fluttershy whispered, her voice barely audible over the rustling of the foliage. "It's nice of you to appease Rainbow."
The two mares lay hidden within dense shrubbery, their vantage point affording them an unobstructed view of the nearby activity. Overhead, Rainbow Dash kept a watchful eye from among the clouds. Their gaze was fixed on Dizzy and Big Macintosh, diligently working to repair the foundation of the Apple family's treehouse.
Putting down her binoculars, Twilight replied, "Well, I want her to feel fully confident in our approach. There's not much to learn doing this, but I'm sure it'll put Rainbow at ease." Fluttershy nodded in understanding.
The observation proved, in every sense of the word, boring. Hours trickled by as the duo tended to the treehouse's restoration. Yet, despite the mundane nature of the task, Twilight couldn't help but notice the eagerness of Dizzy, her face lighting up with an endearing smile at the smallest of praises from Big Mac.
"Twilight, am I too nice?" Fluttershy's voice cut through the silence, catching her friend off guard.
"Too nice?" Twilight echoed, her brow furrowing in contemplation. After a moment's pause, she ventured a response. "I don't know...maybe..."
Fluttershy shuffled in place, her discomfort evident. "I've been thinking that if I hadn't been so accommodating to Discord, if I had set up boundaries, he wouldn't have rampaged like that."
Twilight's expression softened with understanding. "And Angel would be alive," she finished, prompting a solemn nod from Fluttershy.
Placing a comforting hoof on her friend's shoulder, Twilight continued. "Fluttershy, you shouldn't blame yourself, like Rainbow Dash, either. We all could've done something a little different.” She paused as she mentally retraced the events leading up to the chaos. "I could've ensured the guard stayed nearby, our friends could've interacted with him more, you could've taught him limits, we...could've actually tried being his friends." Her voice wavered slightly as she added, "And...and maybe Princess Celestia could've prepared us more..."
Drawing in a steadying breath, Twilight met Fluttershy's gaze with renewed determination. "But it's too late. So let's learn from those mistakes, alright? Let's do good by Dizzy, and actually be her friends."
Fluttershy nodded, her expression brightening ever so slightly. Then, her gaze drifted to their concealed forms before returning to Twilight with a wry smile. "I don't think friends spy on each other."
A laugh escaped Twilight's lips, "True, but…"
In unison, the two uttered, "Rainbow.”
Mustering every ounce of strength his new form afforded him, Adam hoisted a plank of wood, twice his height, up the treehouse steps. His current task involved ferrying lumber to Big Macintosh, who was tasked with replacing the dilapidated roof. Many would consider such work boring and lowly, but for Adam, it was pleasant—he was being useful.
After catching his breath, Adam called out, "Big Mac!" The rhythmic pounding of a hammer ceased, and the burly stallion peeked over the edge of the roof.
"Eeyup," came Big Mac's customary response as he extended his forelegs, ready to receive the plank.
Adam lifted the beam, and with a smooth motion, Big Mac hauled it onto the roof, their well-practiced workflow undisturbed by unnecessary chatter. Adam was content with the unspoken understanding between them – a welcomed change from the wary glances and probing inquiries of the other ponies. Big Mac talked to and treated him like what he was underneath, an adult.
With his delivery complete, Adam climbed the ladder, which was more like steep stairs to him, onto the roof. The ladder, a concession to Adam's smaller stature, had been unnecessary for Big Mac, who had effortlessly leaped from the balcony in a display of raw strength. When Adam asked if he would do the same to move the wood when alone, Big Mac simply replied, "Eeyup. Strap and jump."
Surveying the rooftop, Adam sought a suitable spot to rest, carefully navigating the holes where they had removed and rebuilt the supporting structures. Finding a promising vantage point, he settled down and turned his attention to observing Big Mac's methodical labors. The roof had sustained the most severe damage, prompting the stallion's insistence on overseeing its reconstruction personally.
Big Macintosh was a distinctly imposing figure, the embodiment of the term 'workhorse.' No other stallion Adam had encountered possessed such sheer bulk or towering stature—not even the Royal Guards or, strangely enough, Celestia's personal Solar Guards. To Adam, the earth pony's rugged physique conjured memories of his grandfather, Jedric, whose frame had been similarly sculpted by years of demanding construction work.
Adam watched as Big Mac set about removing the damaged boards from the treehouse roof. With practiced precision, the stallion slipped the wedge of his hammer between two disfigured planks and slowly applied pressure, forcing them apart. Crack! Sounded one of the old boards as it snapped in two.
As the splintered remnants parted, a viscous brown sludge slipped forth, oozing between the fractured wood fibers and holding the two pieces together. Big Mac recoiled in disgust. "That rain was more than just chocolate milk," he mumbled. With a heavy sigh, he clamped the hammer's handle between his teeth, leaning down to wrestle with the nails that stubbornly pinned the remaining half of the broken board in place.
Adam cringed inwardly. That…that can't be good for you, he thought as he watched. While the ponies' versatility and proficiency were undeniable, enhanced by their innate magical abilities, it was clear that such advantages couldn't fully compensate for the downsides of their quadrupedal nature. Big Mac's inability to achieve proper leverage on two legs was a clear example. Depending on your teeth to tear out boards was asking to lose a few, how many times had Big Mac made that risk?
With a yank from Big Mac, the broken plank shifted upwards, creating an audible screech of protest as it surrendered its grip on the treehouse—thankfully, all of Big's Mac teeth were still intact. It wasn't enough to rip the board out, but now Big Mac could wedge the hammer into the nailed end and pull out the board.
Unable to contain his curiosity, Adam ventured a hesitant query. "Is that, um, should you be doing that?"
"Doing what?" Big Mac asked in return.
Adam pointed towards the stallion's mouth, where the hammer's handle protruded. "Working with your teeth. Doesn't that hurt?"
With a dismissive shake of his head, Big Mac returned his attention to the task at hand, leaving Adam's concern unanswered.
Weirdos, Adam thought to himself, suppressing the urge to voice the follow-up question that sprang to mind. He already knew the answer and hoped Twilight wouldn't take too long to begin teaching him.
As time trickled by, boredom began to set in for Adam. It irked him that he was forbidden from lending a hoof in the roof's repair. During the earlier stages of the restoration, he had been permitted to assist with some of the work, but Big Mac had deemed roofing too perilous for a 'filly,' much to Adam's chagrin.
Rising to his feet, Adam approached the diligently working stallion. "Mac, can I please help. I don't want to sit around idle."
"Nope," Big Mac replied without breaking his stride or sparing Adam a glance. "Didn't I tell you I'd handle this alone? Shouldn't even be on the roof."
Undeterred, Adam pressed on. "Why not?"
Pausing his labors, Big Mac extended a hoof and lightly pressed against one of the boards. A crack sounded through the air. "Bad boards," he stated matter-of-factly. "You can't feel them. Could trip and fall into a hole."
"And you can?" Adam asked skeptically.
"I'm an Earth Pony," came the stallion's simple response, as if that alone should suffice as an explanation.
Adam argued his case with exasperation. "Big Mac, I may look like a filly or whatever, but I'm smart enough to know to avoid being near holes and suspicious-looking boards."
Leveling his gaze at Adam, Big Mac's expression remained resolute. "You stay right there. These boards are 'rotted' on the inside. You can't tell."
"Then I'll just do a tap test," Adam declared, pressing his hoof-clad leg against a board. After a moment's consideration, he proclaimed, "Safe."
"Dizzy," Big Mac warned with reproach.
Ignoring the stallion, Adam shifted his weight to his clawed limb and repeated the process. "Safe."
Big Mac heaved a weary sigh. "I thought you were a mature filly. I'll find you something to do, stay there." He began making his way towards Adam, his movements slow and deliberate.
Adam, however, refused to back down. "Big Mac, I am not a filly. Besides, I'm here to help, not be kept busy—so let me help." With each word, he edged forward.
"Only fillies think they know better!" Big Mac's warning rang out, tinged with urgency. "Now stop before you fall through that board!"
Heedless of the stallion's words, Adam took another step forward, his voice rising in a defiant crescendo. "I'm not a fucking—"
The board beneath him splintered with a sickening crack, plunging Adam through the roof.
"Dizzy!" Yelled Big Mac in anguish as he rushed towards where Adam once was.
A piercing scream tore from Adam's lips as he plummeted towards the unforgiving ground below. In that split second of freefall, his momentum shifted, throwing him into a state of bewildered disorientation. Craning his neck, he caught sight of the culprit that had temporarily stopped his descent—the brown from the fractured boards had adhered to his leg, transforming his plunge into a vomit-inducing pendulum arc that threatened to send him crashing through a nearby window.
Big Mac wasted no time, leaping through the gaping hole in the roof, heedless of the jagged splinters that sliced into his flesh. Upon landing, his frantic gaze followed the trajectory of Adam's dangling legs protruding through the window frame. "Nope, nope, nope, nope!" he cried, breaking into a desperate sprint and launching himself towards the opening in a vain attempt to intervene.
He knew his efforts were futile—Adam was destined for a six-foot plunge, head-first onto the unforgiving earth below. But Big Mac refused to surrender, extending his hooves as far as they would reach, hoping that he could impart enough force to tilt Adam's trajectory, to cushion the impending impact in any way he could.
Adam felt a blow against his chest.
The force of Big Mac's desperate lunge sent the stallion tumbling to the ground, rolling. The moment Big Mac regained control, he searched the area where Adam should have landed, his heart pounding with dread as his search yielded no sign of the fallen filly.
Hyperventilating, Adam braced himself for the inevitable collision, only to feel...nothing. Cautiously, he opened his eyes to be greeted by the sight of the ground mere inches from his face—he had landed, virtually unscathed. A wave of warmth passed through his body as his body pumped one final bout of adrenaline. His pounding heart gradually slowed to a steady beat. "I'm fine!" he exclaimed, a disbelieving chuckle escaping his lips. "Holy fuck! I'm fine!"
Big Mac turned around at the sound of Adam's laughter, his expression a thundercloud of anger and relief. "I told you!" he cried, stomping towards the filly. "I told you, and you didn't listen!"
Adam met the stallion's rage with a placating gesture. "Big Mac, it's fine, I'm fine, calm down."
With a derisive scoff, Big Mac surveyed Adam for injuries, his critical gaze softening slightly at the sight of a mere scrape adorning the filly's right leg. "We're going back to the house."
"What?" Adam balked, craning his neck to examine the minor wound. "Big Mac, this is barely anything. We can keep working."
"It ain't about your leg,” Big Mac said firmly. “I misjudged you, and I can't trust you to listen."
Deflating slightly, Adam averted his gaze. "Big Mac, come on. Won't Applejack and, um, Applebloom be disappointed if we don't finish?"
"Don't worry about them," the stallion dismissed, already heading towards the homestead. "Now come on."
Adam lingered for a moment, considering his words before following in Big Mac's wake. "Big Mac," he called out, his voice tinged with remorse. "I'm...sorry."