//------------------------------//
// TMP Prompt #352: Pooped [Slice-of-Life] 
// Story: Tales of Little Consequence and Other Such Nonsense 
// by littlerobotbird 
//------------------------------//

The Prompt: My favorite way to unwind [OR] The Prompt: The best way to calm down

The water stretched out in front of them like fresh-scrubbed pane of stained glass, etched with the reflections of the far shoreline and distant mountains.

"Granny! Mackies on mah side again!"

"Ennope! Y'all is on MAH side!"

A baby's cry.

The gentle bobs of their blures caused hardly even a ripple.

"Granny! Bloom ain't bein' quiet!"

An impatient stomp of a hoof.

"She jus' a baby, AJ!"

"Still ain't bein' quiet!"

Sounds of a scuffle, curses muttered under their breath.

"Quit shakin' her, AJ!"

“I got this! I got this!”

Their lines had long been cast. They hadn't had even a bite, but that didn't matter none.

"Eugh! All over mah new horseshoes!"

"Granny... Granny Smith, I think I'm gonna… gonne …gonn--"

A second splatter on wood.

"By Celestia! Pull over, Granny! Pull over now!”

The sun listed quietly towards the horizon, casting oranges and pinks over the lake. The fresh air tickled her nostrils. Soon enough they'd have to be heading back.

"Granny Smith?"

"Huh, wuh?" The old mare jolted her granddaughter leaned against her, shaking her from her quiet reverie.

"This was nice. Even if we didn't catch nothing."

Granny Smith blinked a moment, turning from the impending sunset to Applejack's soft smile to the shore where Big McIntosh and little Apple Bloom were carefully crafting a behemoth of a orchard in the sands, a thousand twigs organized into neat little rows.

"Think we can come down here next weekend?"

Granny Smith froze a moment.

"Quit it, Mac!"

"Ain't doin' nothin'!"

The acrid scent of spent apples lingered.

"Yes you are! Y'all got your stinky hooves on mah side o'the cart again!"

"Nope!"

"Yup!"

Her eye gave a little twitch, the old mare quickly shaking herself from her recollections before turning to face the fading sun.

Closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath, ears twitching at the distant sea birds' cries and the salty airs stinging at her nose.

She looked back over to the shore where little Apple Bloom was playing the part of a unexpected Everfree dervish through the crops, giggling with delight in that way only foals can, Mac's raucous laughter joining it. Granny Smith looked down at Applejack, the little filly's hooves pressed against her side as she peered up expectantly. The old mare smiled her nigh toothless grin, hugging the filly tight to her side as the sun set on the day.

"I reckon we could."

[Prompt Link]