At first, when they told me I would be moving away, that I would be leaving the only semblance of a home I’d ever known, I didn’t want to go. The world outside the four walls I lived in was alien, cold and strange. The government of Equestria had taken care of me for years, but now times were different. Humanitarians from outside, with no knowledge of what it was like here in my orphanage, of the love and compassion we had been shown, decided that it was out-dated and cruel. They had forced the Princesses to close the establishment. After that, the curators arranged houses for us. I was reticent, resentful of the change. But now that I’ve finally arrived at the Ponyville train station, it seems like maybe life here isn’t such a bad idea.
My new home is located near the edge of town, across from a gigantic orchard. The constant activity makes for a comfortable kind of background noise, like the cable cars back in Canterlot. Life here is simpler though, slower, more peaceful. The soothing atmosphere and seclusion serve as balm for my ragged nerves. I’m not used to being alone, after so long with all the wonderful men and women who managed the home where I’d lived before; yet without their constant presence, I feel at rest. I don’t have to answer to anyone and freedom that comes with that is blessedly reassuring.
A polite, yet firm knock on the door bursts through my silent retrospection. Curious, I walked over to the door and opened the door. A smiling girl, a silent giant of a young man, and a very young girl were standing outside. The older girl extended her hand, which I shook somewhat quizzically. I took in the sight for a moment. The youngest couldn’t be more than eleven or twelve, with light skin and dark auburn hair. She had on a light yellow sun dress, with a huge pink ribbon tied in the back of her hair. The boy was, I thought, something close to nineteen or twenty, with blue jeans and a dark red tee. His blond hair was naturally straight and fell off to the right an inch or so above his eyes. The middle girl was likely close to my age, fifteen or sixteen. She had on tight denim shorts, a plaid orange, white, and light brown plaid button up, and a dark brown Stetson sitting on top of her dirty blonde hair, which was loose at the front and sides, but done into a simple braid in back. Her eyes were also green, her skin slightly darker than –assumedly- her sisters, and dotted with freckles.
As I looked at them for a moment, the middle one opened her mouth to speak.
“Howdy! Mah’ name’s Applejack, ’n this here’s Big Mac and Applebloom. We’re your neighbours over at Sweet Apple Acres and just came by to see if you needed a hand moving in.” Her smile was infectious, and despite my usual cautiousness, I smiled back.
“Well, I am nearly finished, but it would be a real help if I could get Big Mac to help me with the couch. It’s all that’s left.” I replied after a moment’s deliberation. She nodded, and Big Mac did the same. I walked them over to the sofa in question. Big Mac casually strode to the opposite side, and we lifted it; it shocked me how easily he managed it. I’m not weak by any stretch of the imagination, but this guy hefted it like it was nothing at all.
“All right Big Mac, just through the door and into the main room, if you would.” I directed, and in short time we had settled it into its place. I shook his hand gratefully, and he nodded. Applejack spoke up again.
"Hey, we’re uh… having lunch soon if you’re interested!” she grinned, with a friendly look and something else I could only identify as hopeful. Applebloom smiled and nodded enthusiastically. I looked around at my new home quietly. “Ahh, what the buck?” I thought to myself. It must have been the air here, but I felt alive, I felt as though I could leave my anxiety, my worry behind me. “I would love to, but are you sure it’s alright? I mean, you’ve already been really kind to me, and I hardly know you!”
She laughed and nodded again.
“Of course it’s alright! After all, that’s how you make friends.” And with that, we left my house and walked over to Sweet Apple Acres. The one thing I kept thinking about was how the people here were so much different from those I’d met in Canterlot, my orphanage family aside. They were easygoing and glaringly open. Maybe I could come to like it here after all.