//------------------------------// // All We Have // Story: All We Have // by canonkiller //------------------------------// -Soundtrack "Is there anything we can do?" Applejack whispered, leaning up against her brother. The red stallion sighed, resting his chin on Applejack's bowed forehead. "Eenope." ----- It was a peaceful morning, after all, and Ponyville sat queitly under Celestia's sunrise. Few ponies were fully awake, but there was a single place whose entire population had been up the whole time. "Soup's on, everypony!" Granny Smith yelled from the doorway of the small farmhouse. Trotting back inside on trembling hooves, the smell of flapjacks and fresh apple juice filled the air. It wasn't long before two more ponies returned home for breakfast. The ginger mare and her older brother were in a short argument, one that had pobably started over a missed buck and had been bouncing back and worth tirelessly. They were laughing, at least. Almost on their heels was Apple Bloom, who came careening up the path with a small set of saddlebags on her shoulders, a few dog treats stuffed haphazardly inside. With a bounce, she scooted around her older siblings and hurried to her place at the table. "Has anyone seen Winona?" The three Apple siblings looked up from the table, at their grandmother. Smith was staring out the window at the now-empty acres of trees that the farm was named after. "I know she went out with you two." Applejack glanced at Macintosh and swallowed her mouthful of pancake. "Ah thought she went with Apple Bloom when she went into town." "Eeyup." Mac agreed. The filly's eyes widened. "She was never with me! I never even saw her this morning!" All four exchanged worried glances before pushing away from the table. Applejack was the first to be ready, throwing a basic first aid kit into a saddlebag and kicking the door open. "Ah'll cover the north side." As they all divided and cantered away, yelling for their closest companion. A table still set became suddenly deviod of life as the breakfast cooled to a deathly chill. ----- "Winona! Come out, girl!" Applejack yelled into the chilly air. It was warmer... but not by much. "Winona!" Tears began streaming down the Earth Pony's orange face. "Please be okay..." She whispered. She had been with the loyal canine since her birth... so many memories. Playing with the gentle dog that lay forever by her crib. Holding her furry neck, sobbing into the chocolate fur, her parents gone forever. Secretly telling all of her secrets to her, trying to break the silence that hung over the mourning farm. Never knowing that, in the hallway, Mac was listening, trying to keep the tears from rolling down his face. And from then on, going out every day to buck apples with the canine by her side, through snow and storm. Applejack fell back on her haunches, not even bothering to hold back her tears any more. The silver droplets splashed off the dewdropped grass, the entire scene lit by an orange glow. It was a long time before she had the strength to stand back up and keep calling. ----- Apple Bloom's memories of the friendly mutt were much fewer. She had been impossibly young to lose her parents, barely knew their faces from the pictures on the wall. Sometimes she wished she was like Scootaloo or Sweetie Belle, with parents who just lived far away... instead of in Heaven. But she couldn't focus on that. She had spent three week's allowance on Pinkie's specialty dog treats. And the only reason she wasn't crying was that her mind was fixed on the fact she was not letting those cookies go to waste. ----- Big Macintosh plodded quietly through the trees, having already hurt his throat from yelling. As a stallion of few words, when he decided to talk, it was with a troubled or fatherly tone. This was the prior. "Now, Winnie, don't go hiding on me." He muttered into the silent grove. "Come on girl, come out." There was nothing but silence, no matter how hard he strained to hear. No whimpers, no barking, no soft paws on grass... He realized he had been holding his breath. ----- Granny wobbled further and further away from the house, her aged eyes blurrily scanning the ground. She ignored the rotten apples on the ground, and the snow shovel from last year lodged in the tree above. With a shrill whistle, she stopped walking, looking around for any sign of an oncoming dog, happily bouncing to her call. But there wasn't one. ----- The tension was growing unbearable, streched between acres of apple trees and the hearts of four. ----- Something caught Applejack's eye from behind a thick tree. Fearing for the worst, she cantered around the edge of the tree, bowing down to her knees. "W-W-W-Winona?" She sobbed, nudging the collapsed dog with her nose. "Come on, girl. Get up." Her eyes were watering. "Please?" The patch-furred dog lifted her head with a low keening whine. Applejack looked into her eyes, seeing the age for the first time. Gently, like the dog was made of glass, she shrugged her onto her back, trotting with as little movement as possible. ----- It had been a hard desicion to make. ----- Applejack’s mane blew in the cold dawn wind. It had been three hours since she had woken up. How could something this bad happen in that time? But she knew that it had been longer than that. It had been sixteen years ago, when the pup had come to the farm. Ever since, it had progressed. This was not the kind of thing that happened in a single morning. She stroked the soft fur on Winona’s neck, almost breaking into tears once again as the dog’s tail made a weak attempt at a wag. The vet looked at Applejack for a silent approval. The Earth Pony made a small nod, never taking her eyes from her aged companion. Winona looked back, a warm stare that hid the dog’s pain. The end was swift. Winona let out a single, small bark, before her tail fell to the ground and her eyelids slid peacefully closed. “Goodbye, old girl.” Applejack whispered, her hoof still in the chocolate-cream fur. “Ah’ll miss you.” ----- “There was no other way, sis.” Mac muttered, trying his hardest to keep from crying. Applejack wouldn’t let her eyes meet the fresh soil and small marker. “Is she really gone?” The stallion sighed, wrapping a gentle hoof around her shoulder. “It was the way it had to be.” “Do you think she’s happy? Is she running?” The ginger mare asked, looking up at the still-orange sky. The stallion glanced at her, wondering if she had realized those were the same words she had uttered learning of her parent’s death. She didn’t. He followed her gaze up to the heavenly sky, rogue tears running down his cheeks. “Eeyup.”