Midnight moonlight filtered through full and rustling branches to cast scattered shadows like broken glass over the outskirts of Sweet Apple acres. Under the twinkling stars sat an orange earth pony, blonde mane splayed against the bark of a barrel-thick tree.
“Howdy, Stockton. I know I ain’t been back here to the North Forty lately. And I know you miss ol’ Bloomberg – we all do. But I gotta talk, and you were always a dang good listener, so here goes. Me an’ my unicorn friend, we’re tryin’ to help out this other pony, and it was goin’ fine. Had ourselves a sleepover, all kinds a’ fun. We weren’t exactly bein’ honest, ‘cause we were really there to sneak a peek at this pony’s journal. Took it back to the barn, had ourselves a read, and – hoo boy, this is where things got interestin’.”
“The whole dadgum thing was page after page about how much she thought Rarity was sweet on me! I couldn’t believe a word of it. Ain’t no pony ever looked at me like that. I said so, and Rares, she, uh… kinda surprised me. This durn fool unicorn just leans over and plants a big ol’ kiss on me. Not even friendly-like, this was marefriend-like. Shut me right up, I tell ya. After that, it got a little… awkward. Told Rares I didn’t know what I thought, asked her to give me some time.”
Gentle breezes rustled the leaves above and the moonlit shadows shifted a kaleidoscope of patterns below. Applejack furrowed her brown and peered up into the overarching branches. “Stockton, are you outta yer ever-lovin’ mind? I cain’t just go for it! Whisper sweet nothin’s to her, ask her for a midnight stroll? Good listener, maybe, but you ain’t got a serious branch on ya.”
Cantering a few trees over, the orange mare ran a hoof down the shadowed bark of a thin but towering apple tree, its high branches leaving her illuminated in pale, ghostly light. “Hey there, Rufus. We ain’t ever had a chance to talk, but Bloomberg always said you knew yer way around the ladies. Truth is, I ain’t been on a date, a real honest to Celestia date, since – well, never. Just a couple a’ school-filly crushes, and my senior dance, an’ that didn’t end so well. But I made a pony a promise tonight. Told her I’d let her know in the mornin’, and that ain’t but a couple o’ hours away. I just cain’t do it, Rufus! It don’t have nothin’ to do with her an’ me bein’ mares, I swear. I never seen that as a problem. But this is Rarity!”
Applejack sank to her haunches, her weatherworn Stetson knocked askew against the flaking bark. “She’s practically Canterlot’s darlin’. All fancy, all highfalutin’, all proper, all the time. Just a hoof this side o’ too snooty and, boy oh boy Rufus, my friend, does she set new levels o’ dramatic! Ever seen her magic up a faintin’ couch?” She chuckled, straightened her hat, and continued, “Now ain't this here a kicker? Here I am, tryin’ to talk myself out o’ this. Rarity’s the single most generous mare I ever knew. Hard workin', in her own way, dedicated, and she’s… Rufus, she’s plain beautiful. That mare’s beyond gorgeous, an’ she’s tellin’ me the same, and I know I should take her word for it, but… It’s just too much, too soon, I can’t make myself…”
From swaying branches above a single apple fell onto a single Apple below, knocking the Stetson lazily to the ground. The earth mare rubbed her head, picked up the offending fruit, and glared at the great wooden tower beside her. “What the hay’d ya do that for? Ain’t no pony bucked ya!" She stared down at the apple for long moments, turning it over in her hooves as it glistened in the moonlight. "Shoot, I guess ya got a point. What’s gonna happen is gonna happen, even if I ain’t the one to start it. Even if I just sit here, mindin' my own business, the thing I always wanted can just drop right outta' the ever-lovin' sky. Kinda' like it did in the barn tonight, huh? So you think I might as well give it a shot, that what you’re gettin’ at, Rufus?”
Lying down beneath the tree, tail curled around her, apple nestled in her hat like a mother bird guarding her nest, Applejack closed her eyes under the stars and swaying branches. “Gotta get some sleep, Rufus, so keep an eye out for me, okay, pardner? I got a promise to keep tomorrow. I owe a mare an answer, and I hope to Celestia she’ll forgive me for smellin' like applewood an' topsoil. G’night, Rufus. You too, Stockton.”