There wasn’t much that could spoil a day for Granny Smith but seeing her grandkid walk around with her tail between her legs was one of those things. The old mare didn’t say anything, she closed her eyes and waited in her rocker until Apple Bloom had walked down the path from Ponyville and climbed the little stair onto the main house's porch. The filly had tried not to wake her granny and was more than a little startled when she heard that old, reedy voice.
“So, young’un, what’s crawled up your mane? You look like you got a failing grade.”
Granny Smith’s usually gentle eyes gleamed like a hawk’s and with the way she leaned forward in her chair she nearly looked like one, too. Apple Bloom had almost managed to jump over the railing from fright and now tried to stop hyperventilating at the edge of the veranda.
“You didn’t get a failing grade, did you?” There was an edge in Granny Smith’s voice now and she squinted her eyes.
“No,” Apple Bloom managed, “I got no failing grade. Not now, not ever.”
Granny fell back into her chair and slowly started rocking back and forth again. The gentle eyes and smile were back, as if the last few seconds had never happened. “Then what’s eating you? Can’t be that bad.”
“I had a fight with Diamond Tiara,” Apple Bloom whispered. Everypony at Sweet Apple Acres knew that Granny Smith had a very specific hearing loss: quarrel in the family, admissions of guilt and anything involving love could happen on the other end of the farm and granny would just know.
Everything else might involve talking very loud sometimes.
Granny Smith rolled her eyes. “I see no broken bones.”
“We rolled around a bit,” the young pony pointed at a few grass stains on her coat, “She couldn’t stop and fell into the duck pond.”
A smile flashed over the old mare’s face like a handful of spiders and was gone again in the blink of an eye. “And?” she knew there was more.
“Maybe she might have lost her headdress.”
“That won’t stand. You wash up and ask Miss Rarity to look for that jewel. Tell her I sent you. Then you will clean it and bring it back to Filthy Rich, you hear.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Apple Bloom knew that this was not a request, neither for her nor for the dressmaker either.
“But first, what was that fight about? I hope you didn’t get into trouble for something stupid,” there was an amused twinkle in those eyes, just as if she already knew the answer.
“Diamond Tiara said that her great-grandpa Stinking Rich was a lot cleverer than the Apples back in the day because he got so rich and -” her voice turned into an imitation of the snobby filly’s, “like, spend his sunset years in an exclusive home in Canterlot. And I said that you are the wisest pony in Ponyville and that you are still working and not in some home for old ponies because you like it that way.”
Granny Smith snickered a bit, “Yep, wouldn’t have it any other way!” Then she looked around as if to check for eavesdroppers, waved her grandchild close and hugged her to her chest. “You have to promise not to tell anypony, but I’m not the wisest pony in Ponyville. I just remember a lot of stuff you haven’t learned yet. That’s not wisdom, that’s tradition. You don’t get wise with years, you get wise with experiences.”
Apple Bloom opened her mouth to protest, but an old hoof closed it gently.
“If I was so wise, how come I have an aching hip and young Miss Sparkle got wings, hm? That doesn’t sound very wise to me, now does it?” She took her hoof from Apple Bloom’s mouth and tapped her own chin. “Or do you think maybe Miss Hooves delivered the package with the wings to the wrong place?” Her eyes sparkled with mischief.
Apple Bloom grinned, “No, I don’t think they ship wings in the mail.”
“Well gosh darn, then I don’t know it either.” The old mare clopped a hoof on the armrest of her rocking chair.
A bit of mischief had managed to infect the filly, “So, do I listen to you or to Twilight Sparkle now?
“You’re Apple family, aren’t you? And I just because tradition is not always wise, there are still a lot of good things to learn. For example, tradition tells you not to try and catch a speeding pegasus pony with a lasso.”
They both looked up and watched as a cyan streak trailed by a rainbow shot across the sky. It had an orange earthpony screaming on the top of her lungs in tow. A familiar stetson floated down and landed a few steps away on the ground.
“See? Now fetch your sister’s hat and put it on it’s peg, I'll tell her you found it.” She winked at her grandchild. ”And then you run along. The earlier you return that Rich filly’s trinket the better.”