Forelle felt uneasy as she headed back to the boarding house. The longer she thought about her pears in the hands of those brother the more unsure she became. Still, what was done was done, there was no going back on it now.
She sighed as she worked her way through the streets, wishing she were a touch taller. If she were, she might get jostled less, maybe even noticed every now and again. As it was, she had to duck and weave her way through the end of the day traffic.
It took her quite a bit longer to get back to the house than it had to get to the market that morning, but eventually she made it.
Forelle looked up at the rather dilapidated building, then at the steadily sinking sun. The week would be up in a few days, then the rent would be due. She felt the bits she had made this morning jingling under her hat. They wouldn’t be enough to cover it she knew, but perhaps they were a sign of good things to come?
As she thought that one of the shutters fell from one of the top floor windows. It fell to the ground with less of a crash and more of a splat a few feet away.
She sighed again. That was seeming steadily more unlikely. Still, she had the rest of the week and maybe the brothers would come through. Things were not totally hopeless.
She walked through the front door as she did at the end of every day. She made nods of acknowledgement to a few of the other tenants, putting on her normal, amicable smile. She really didn’t feel like smiling, but no one could say she wasn’t polite.
There was a small sense of comradery among the residence of the boarding house. Ms.Button took in anyone who wanted to stay and could manage to sometimes-maybe pay her. Because anybody could stay, only certain people did. These were the kind of people no one really wanted around, so they were bound in that. From Dragon to Diamond Dog, this was the best they could do. So there was the general sense that they might as well not make it worse for themselves by being cruel.
She nodded to a diamond dog peeking out from the basement as she passed by before ducking the swinging tail of a large griffon making his way down the hall. He apologized to her briefly and made his way to the roof. Forelle followed behind until she reached the dragon sleeping under the stairs. She still felt odd about using him to get to the first floor. Instead she opted to use the couch once more.
At this point in its life the piece of furniture was more springs than cushion, it was a simple matter of getting a running start.
With a bounce Forell sailed through the air, leaping over the banister and landing in the second floor hallway with practiced ease.
She couldn’t help but smile whenever she did that. It made her feel like the acrobats at the Roamin circus back home. She could remember the first time she’d seen them, it was a good memory.
She allowed it to distract her as she walked to her room, nodding to the mule 2b, the ‘Learned Chimera’ in 2a and finally the strange pegasus across the hall. He always wore strange armor and claimed to be from an ‘Alternate Timeline’. Forelle had no idea what an ‘Enclave’ was, but she was fairly certain she didn’t want to know.
She reached her door and walked back into her small room. The table still lay broken in the corner. She’d have to fix it at some point or pay for a new one. Ms.Button probably wouldn’t make her but if she took any more of the sweet old mare’s kindness she was fairly certain she’d explode. Her Roamin pride simply wouldn’t allow for it.
Forell gave a heavy sigh sitting her saddlebag on the bed and slumping onto the uncomfortable mattress. There were still a few hours of mild daylight left though the market had closed. She wondered what she ought to do with herself. She never held well with sitting still for long periods of time. She had her hobbies, a pair of hoof warmers lay nearly complete in the corner. She’d picked up knitting after her scarf had been eaten a few weeks back. Her mother had showed her the ropes as a child, but only recently had she put them to any real use. There was a sheep who lived on the first floor. When anyone asked his name he only responded in a series of clicking noises. He was an odd tenant who claimed to be a changeling who got stuck that way, but whether Forelle believed him or not he didn’t mind letting her rid him of his overly thick and cumbersome wool. It was odd as she found out while working with this wool that she didn’t have to worry about dying it....it simply seemed to change to whatever colored she happened to be thinking of at the moment.
She eyed the pair of needles sitting against the wall and briefly contemplated knitting a house. If she could do that she wouldn’t have to worry about rent. She’d gotten fairly good, and could knit pretty quickly, if she layered the walls right...
Forelle buried her head in her pillow. The ‘Confidence Artists’ really were her only hope, and she was pretty sure they knew it just as well as she did. She could only hope that they would pull through in the morning.
Peeking out from her pillow she could see out the window into the distance. The orchards of the Apple Family. Her stomach gave a low growl as her eyes took in those full red apples. Forelle groaned out loud. Her meager lunch of a single apple had done little to ease the hunger of several days worth of hardly eating anything at all. She felt her insides clench painfully, begging her for food she didn’t have.
She groaned again, quite a bit more pitifully. Her thoughts shifted from knitting a house to knitting a plate of breadsticks. With some salt maybe...
She watched as an apple, ripe and ready, fell out of view. Further up the hill she could see an orange shape with a basket, collecting produce as as smaller red shape bounced around happily. A smile managed to creep up on her, the little one she had met that morning reminded her of her own siblings, Bosc and Anjou, the way they used to prance around her father at the end of the day when he came home. They were just starting to learn the trade. She wondered if they were helping in her family’s orchards now?
Looking back on the events at the marketplace Forrelle remembered the orange pony’s invitation; “Come by when you get a minute.”
She had a minute now.
She had several minutes.
Forelle frowned. She could not simply walk up empty hoofed, stomach growling. Once again her inner pride balked at the mere idea. If she was going to visit she’d have to bring something at the very least. She rolled over in bed staring at the ceiling. Did she even want to visit? She’s spent quite a while hating the ponies who owned that orchard, they were part of the reason she was in the state in which she found herself. Still...she couldn’t blame them could she? They were just trying to make money, same as she was and from their earlier meeting she knew they harbored no personal ill will towards her. They’d even been kind...
Still, some childish little voice inside Forelle’s head brooded. They had everything they wanted. A nice place to live, a steady income, the respect of nearly everypony in town...family to come home to.
She banished her jealousy with a shake of her head, trying to dislodge to negative emotions that came with it. She wasn’t a little filly. She knew better than to think that way.
Still, knowing better doesn’t always equal feeling better. Paradoxically knowing better made her feel a great deal worse.
Her face set in a more determined expression. She would visit, if only in penance for thinking various nasty things about the family during her time here. She was from Roam, she owed them better than that. They’d been kind to her and she needed to return that kindness.
Forelle got to her hooves, as looked around her room, and despite it’s lack of space, it suddenly felt too big. Too sparse.Too lonely.
She tapped her hooves together. A bit more than she wanted to admit, the thought of spending another evening in this room was more than she could take.
That decided, there was no way Forell was showing up with nothing...but what did she have to give?
As she looked over her meager possessions, her eyes glanced over her knitting needles and a rather large pile of wool.
She smiled.
-----------
A while later Forell walked out into the hallway her saddlebags a bit more full than before. The sun was getting lower by the moment. She’d have to be quick about this visit. She didn’t not fancy the idea of walking home alone in the dark.
As she started towards the stairs, the door across the hall opened with a creak. The pegasus who roomed there peeked out, in the dim light she could see his blue coat and dark mane. He looked up and down the hall warily.
Forelle paused. “Um...hello?” she offered.
He looked momentarily surprised to see her. “Hi.”
She stood there for a minute unsure what to do next. It felt rude to just continue on her way, yet the strange pegasus had never been particularly chatty. She was fairly sure his name was Blue Sky, but that was mostly through word of mouth. Still, as her mother taught her, it was never a bad idea to be friendly. It was the Roaman way.
“...How are you? It is a nice evening, yes?” she attempted a smile.
He blinked, sizing her up. “Yes. Yes I suppose it is. That’s terribly unusual.” he muttered something to himself looking at the ground. Forelle could only make out the words ‘Box’, ‘Stable’ and ‘Grenades’ “
Forelle shifted uneasily. “Um...yes. I supposes it has been raining recently.”
He looked back up at her, he seemed to have forgotten she was there. “Yes...raining...and things...are growing...nothing like where I’m from.”
Forelle tilted her head. “And um...where is it that that was?”
His eyes hardened before he swung his forelegs in a sweeping gesture. “Far away...so far away.” He glared at her. “Someplace that would eat a nice mare like you alive.” His eye twitched.
Forelle backed away slowly. “Um...well, that is very nice. Here is to hoping you will someday return....um...I will see you at a later date.” she turned and attempted not to run down the hall to the stairs.
“Beware the wasteland!” his yell followed.
Forelle jumped down to the couch a bit faster than what might have been polite, and quickly made her way out the door.
-------
Now that the majority of the day had passed, the streets were mostly empty. There were a few ponies milling around, but Forelle could walk more comfortably. She took a breath, it was a nice change of pace. The air was a little warmer than it had been that morning, and though she still didn’t have anything warm to wear, she found the weather rather enjoyable.
She allowed herself to walk at a gentle pace, it wasn’t often she enjoyed going anywhere. The last few weeks had simply been the hopeful trek to the market and the solum return to the boarding house. She’d rarely felt the inclination to go somewhere simply for the sake of it. She had to conserve money and, despite her time here, hardly knew anyone outside the boarding house.
She had a vague idea where the farm was, but then it was really hard to miss. It was a very large patch of land towards the edge of the town proper. If she kept walking in its general direction she’d reach it eventually.
Forelle hummed a little tune, interspersing bits of a lullaby half remembered from her childhood. She knew the melody even if some of the words escaped her. It had been a song about a mare who’d gotten lost in a forest, trying to find her way out. The ending escaped her, but whether it was happy or sad didn’t really matter. It was familiar and therefore it was comforting.
She passed by the market square, she almost never saw it empty, it was slightly odd. Every morning it was so full of hustle and bustle, ponies who could hardly spare a moment between their mad dashes for groceries and the madder dashes to sell them. Now it lay quiet. She could see a family having dinner near the fountain, which she’d never really bothered to look at for all the time she’d spent near it. All the shops and stores were closing up, their owners and workers heading from home with warm smiles and warmer bundles of leftovers in their saddlebags.
Though she felt the usual pang of jealousy for their comfort, she found she was still smiling. If she closed her eyes she could see a similar picture of the markets of Roam. The bakers closing for the day; Mr.Panini attempting to give her mother a loaf or two of day old bread with his usual easy smile, and her mother’s gentle decline. The sweet shop run by Ms.Gelato who would give Bosc and Anju little treats so long as they promised not to tell. She felt that same gentle heat in her heart watching the ponies of ponyville end their day. There was a connection there. This may have been their home, but she could feel a tie to hers for a moment.
Ponies were the same wherever you went.
The thought still drew a sigh from her, though her smile remained it took on a wistful, sad nature. Her pang of jealousy turned to an ache of homesickness. Ponies may have been the same...but all the same...she missed the ones that were hers.
Eventually, lost in her thoughts, she made it onto the Apple property. She had to squint as the sun set in front of her, burning like a red coal in a warm fire. She was thankful for her hat and the bit of shade it offered.
She stepped forwards onto the moist, rich soil. It gave beneath her hooves, still maintaining the moisture of the rain earlier in the week. The land smelled sweetly of earth and apples. She inhaled deeply, though it made her stomach give another groan of complaint.
She shushed it and continued forwards.
The house wasn’t far from the road, it was almost as big as the boarding house she lived in, and far better kept. She could tell it was old, the marks of age and were everywhere, though she could tell it may have been rebuilt several times. There was new mixed in with the old, a puzzle of ancient doors and freshly painted walls. It all came together into a welcoming facade, a warm glow of light spilling from the windows into the shrinking light.
Forelle caught herself. Though it was a great deal larger and different in many ways she felt that pang again. A pang of similarity. She could tell this was not just a house, like hers back in Roam, this was a home.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, took a breath, and knocked.
Before she could get to the third knock the door flew open and she found herself looking at something she’d rarely ever seen. A mare shorter than she was.
A wizened green earth mare looked out at her, or at least Forelle thought she was, it was hard to see her eyes past the wrinkles.
“Um...hello?” she attempted. “I am here to vi-”
The old mare smiled, Forelle was shocked at how young she managed to look when she did that.
“A visitor! Well my, how nice! Well why don’t you just come right on in and make yourself at home!”
Before Forelle’s brain could even begin to process making a reply she found found a pair of hooves around her shoulders dragging her bodily into the house with a yelp.
“My, my it’s so nice of you to visit dear, eeh, tell me have we met somewhere? My memory t’aint what it used to be and I’m afraid I might’a forgot you.”
Forelle opened her mouth.
“No no! Don’t tell me!” she said ignoring that she’d just asked Forelle to tell her. “I’ll get it! Tell me, is your name Sassafras?”
Forelle was a quick learner and simply shook her head.
“Er..um...Posey?”
Another shake.
“Well butter my flank and call me breakfast, I’m starting to think we’ve never me at all!”
Forelle nodded.
The old mare smiled again, all the more brightly. “Well then girl! What are you waiting for! Introductions are in order!” Forelle found her hoof being shaken quite a bit faster than those old bones should have ever been able to manage. “I’m Granny Smith, what’s your name?”
Forelle waited a moment to see if she would be interrupted before answering, though she couldn’t help but smile at the old mare’s enthusiasm. “Um...I am Forell, it is nice to meet you Granny Smith.”
“Oh well now!” Granny Smith looked her over. “So polite! Is that an accent I’m hearin? Where you from girl, you speak fancy?”
“Well no, I spea-”
“Oh I know! You must be from Hoffany, how do you feel about cheese? Never met a hoofin who didn’t like cheese. Put some on the top of an apple pie and you got something you won’t soon forget! I tell you what, I went there...er...when was it?...during the second World Party I think. Never had it till you’ve had it in the trenches!...”
Forelle’s eyes were spinning by the time Granny Smith was finally interrupted by the back door opening. Applejack walked in with Applebloom peeking over her large hat from her position on the older mare’s back.
“Shoot, Granny now just who are you in here ramblin’ too-” She paused as she laid eyes on Forelle, a smile spreading across her easygoing features. “Well now, look who the cat dragged in!” she walked over and shook Forelle’s hoof. “Why I didn’t expect you to take me up on that invitation so soon. Not that I can’t say I’m not happy you did.”
Forelle smiled in turn, a bit sheepishly, she was far from used to all this attention.
“Um...yes, I thought I would to be stopping by seeing as I did not to be having anything to do this day.”
Applejack tilted her head
Forelle fiddled with her bag, she could feel her cheeks heating up. “Um..apologies, my accent is to be coming out stronger when I am of the nervousness.”
She heard a laugh from somewhere close to the floor, she turned to see the little red filly giggling into her hooves.
“It’s kinda funny!” she said.
Forelle felt her ears lower as Applejack shot her sister a look.
“Now Applebloom, you know better than that. How’d you like it when Diamond Tiara and her friends made fun’a the way you talk?”
Appelbloom stopped giggling and looked at her sister for a moment before turning to Forelle.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it.” she said hanging her head.
Forelle couldn’t help but smile. “It is alright.” she leaned down and looked about the room conspiratorially. “It is of the being a little amount of the funnies.” she whispered.
She and Applebloom shared a laugh while Applejack rolled her eyes. Forelle suddenly remembered the gift in her bag. She cleared her throat, constructing her words more carefully.
“Um, I brought a gift for you and your family.” she said reaching into her saddlebag. “I apologize, I only had enough for two sets.”
From the bag she produced two sets of hoofwarmers, a small red pair which she handed to Applebloom, and a larger green one that she passed to Applejack, both had little red apples on the front with the two mares’ names in the back.
“I hope you will enjoy them.”
Applejack smiled. “Well shoot, this is lovely Forelle. Did you make these?”
Forelle nodded sheepishly.
“I love’em!” Applebloom yelled attempting to pull them over her forehooves. “How’d ya make them?”
“A sheep claiming to be a changeling let me sheer him. After that it was simple to knit them.”
The family blinked.
“Uh...” Applejack said waving a freshly clad hoof. “Well they’re downright spiffy in anycase.” She examined her foreleg approvingly. “Thank you kindly.”
Forelle found herself blushing. “Well...you are welcome, I am glad you like them.” she felt a warm feeling in her belly, it chased away some of the cold that usually nestled there. Unfortunately it brought with it another sensation from that area.
Forelle’s stomach didn't grumble, that would be an injustice. It roared.
Forelle’s face flushed as everyone in the room looked directly at her empty stomach.
It was quiet for a moment before Applejack smiled and put a hoof on Forelle’s shoulder. “Um...sugar cube, would you like to stay for dinner?”
Before Forelle could reply her stomach made a sound akin to a hydra falling off a cliff.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Applejack chuckled.
Forelle opened her mouth to say something only to find it filled by Applejack’s hoof.
“And none’a that fancy declinin’ of yours. You’re thin as a rail and pail as a ghost girl. You’re at Sweet Apple Acres and here we feed our guests. Besides, I just made an Apple Pie and there ain’t no better dessert to share with visitors.”
Without another word Applejack marched off into the kitchen with the determined air of a person who is going to be feeding someone whether they like it or not.
Forelle decided it was safer to just nod to the room in general until a thought occurred to her. She turned to Granny Smith and Applebloom.
“You can make pie out of apples?”