Cabbage had to run to catch up the Cutie Mark Crusaders, because Scootaloo was already charging full-tilt into the orchard and the other two were not far behind. “I hope you’re ready to get completely served Sweetie Bell,” Scootaloo was shouting. “I harvested almost as many apples as AB this morning.”
“Maybe ya did,” the earth pony filly said, “but y’all were up in the canopy shaking the branches directly. This time everypony’s going to do it properly.” Apple Bloom pulled ahead of Scootaloo and led the group to a nearby group of trees still heavy with apples, and there was one large bucket sitting next to a tree. “Ok everypony,” Apple Bloom said, “Ah think the best way to do this is for each of you to take turns ta buck a tree four or five times. Whoever has the most apples per kick wins. Strength is important, but the real trick is ta hit the tree in just the right spot, like so.” She went over to the tree with the bucket, looked it up and down, and then backed up to get a running start. She spun around at the last second, losing a fair bit of momentum, and struck the tree with both hind legs at once. The entire tree shook from the impact and eleven or twelve apples fell out and mostly landed in the basket. “Y’all understand?” she asked. Scootaloo and Sweetie nodded seriously, but Cabbage was too busy being impressed to respond. She snapped out of it when Apple Bloom asked, “So who’s first?”
“Oh! Me!” Sweetie Bell shouted, beating Scootaloo by a split-second. The pegasus stomped and snorted in frustration, but let Sweetie walk up to one of the trees without further protest. Apple Bloom emptied the basket, stacking the apples carefully next to the tree they’d come from, and skillfully tossed the basket to land at the base of the tree Sweetie had chosen. Sweetie narrowed her eyes to the verge of full closure as she tried to imitate AB’s sizing up of her target, and after several seconds trotted away, and then charged. She mistimed the last-second spin, lost her balance, and crashed sideways into the trunk. Two apples fell out of the tree and landed in the basket. “Ow…” the unicorn moaned, rubbing her side. Looking into the basket, she asked, “Does that count as one of my bucks? I’m not sure if I want that to count.”
“You knocked apples out of the tree,” Scootaloo said. “It counts.”
“Just stand still and kick the tree next time,” Apple Bloom suggested. “And that goes for all y’all.”
“I could do the running thing,” Scootaloo protested with a pout.
Sweetie Bell stopped rubbing her aching side, glared at the tree, and bucked it as hard as she could, scoring five apples from the limbs. “Better,” she said, kicking out again, but this time only two apples came down into the basket. “Hey,” she whined, “dumb tree! Heeyah!” Her final blow to the tree trunk landed in a sweet spot, and seven apples fell out of the branches and only one missed the basket.
“That’s sixteen,” Apple Bloom said, scooping the single outlier into the basket with her tail, “unless you’re up for one last kick, Sweetie.”
“Nah, my hooves are getting sore,” the unicorn said, walking away and favoring her left rear leg slightly.
“Are you ok?” Cabbage asked, noticing the limp with some concern.
“Just a little sore,” Sweetie repeated, sitting down.
“My turn,” Scootaloo said, walking up to a tree. “Prepare to be amazed.”
“Gimme a second to prepare the basket first,” Apple Bloom said, stacking Sweetie’s harvest in its own pile. She set the basket under Scootaloo’s chosen target, and then nodded for the pegasus to proceed. Scootaloo scrutinized the tree for a minute, and then tapped her hoof against a particular spot of the trunk. She backed away and then ran at the tree, executing a perfect spin on her front hooves at the last second and bucked. She missed her target by a few inches, but three apples plunked into the basket nonetheless. Looking smug, Scootaloo made another run at the tree and knocked an additional six out of the branches.
“Ah yeah,” she said, trotting out for her third go, “I’m on fire. Cutie mark, here I come.” She charged, spun, and kicked out, but her hooves landed too low and only a pair of apples dropped, both hitting the ground. “What the hay,” she grumbled flatly.
“Ya still got one buck left,” Apple Bloom pointed out, trying not to look too amused.
Scootaloo snorted at the tree, backed up, and came at it with a battle cry. Her hooves impacted right on the tree’s sweet spot and it yielded up seven of its ripe red fruits. Scootaloo hastily counted up the apples and declared with triumph, “Eighteen!” She then looked at her flank expectantly and immediately lost all her enthusiasm because no cutie mark had manifested.
“You did better than I did, at least,” Sweetie Bell said.
“Hm, true,” Scootaloo said, brightening up a little.
“Alright Cabbage,” Apple Bloom said, emptying the basket, “you’re up. Pick your tree.” She leaned in close and murmured, “Ah’m countin’ on you ta put on a good show of what we earth ponies are made of.”
“Ok,” Cabbage said neutrally. The only problem is I’m not really an earth pony, she thought sardonically. She couldn’t quite remember why she’d originally chosen to hide as an earth pony after being exiled, but the form was second nature to her now. Unfortunately for the current situation, the disguise was only superficial and didn’t give Cabbage any of the inherent skills or magic of a real earth pony. She wasn’t a total weakling of course, but she’d never tried something like kicking fruit out of a tree and she wasn’t sure if her runt-Changeling strength could even match Sweetie Bell’s performance, let alone outdo her and Scootaloo.
Backing out would only raise uncomfortable questions though, while finding an excuse for under-performing would be relatively easier. Cabbage looked at the fruit-laden trees all around the group, trying to figure out which one would be the easiest to knock apples out of. Finding one with particularly low-hanging apples, she pointed it out for Apple Bloom to place the basket underneath, and then simply picked a spot on the trunk at random to aim her kicks at. Not feeling confident enough for a running start, she just planted her front hooves and kicked out. The tree barely shivered, and no apples fell out. “Oh no,” Cabbage said in a near whisper, pulling in on herself.
“How about we just call that a practice run?” Apple Bloom suggested a bit awkwardly.
“Fine by me,” Scootaloo said.
“Go on, Cabbage,” Sweetie said encouragingly, “try again.”
Cabbage relaxed and tried to smile. The fillies weren’t suspicious yet, just empathizing with her embarrassment. Focusing on that, she repositioned herself slightly closer to the tree and bucked again, landing a firmer hit on what she thought was the sweet spot. There was a tense moment as the branches shook fruitlessly, the rustling leaves seeming to mock the sea-green pony, and then a single apple fell out and hit Cabbage right in the head. “Ow,” she exclaimed, rubbing the spot and feeling a rare moment of gratitude for her disguised chitin that had made the collision hurt less it might have for a normal pony. Scootaloo chuckled in a somewhat mean-spirited manner, while AB and Sweetie were both full of concern for her. “I’m ok,” Cabbage assured them, “but I think this tree just doesn’t like me.”
“You wanna pick another one then?” Apple Bloom asked.
Cabbage considered the question for a moment. It was a gamble between switching to a tree that would actually drop its apples when kicked or failing against it as well and appearing weaker than an earth pony ought to be. Besides that, Cabbage honestly did think this tree was mocking her and she did not want a plant to be responsible for putting her secret in jeopardy. “No,” she said aloud, “I’m not going to let it beat me.”
“Well, that’s the spirit,” Apple Bloom said.
Cabbage scrutinized the tree again, pondering how she was going to live up to her boast. Eventually she picked a spot to aim her legs at, kicked it lightly a couple times to make sure she could hit it squarely, and then willed herself to turn every ounce of feeling she had into strength as she bucked for real. The tree visibly shook as her hooves landed squarely, the branches convulsed, and a veritable rain of apples buried Cabbage patch under a pile. As they pounded against her head and back, Cabbage felt her disguise start to waver and nearly panicked. She forced herself to keep breathing calmly, letting the increasingly heavy scent of apples distract her until her magic settled. She heard the Crusaders running over to dig her out, but she managed to stay calm and regained her full earth pony disguise before enough apples fell away to reveal her. She stood up, shook the apples off her back, and stepped carefully out of the pile and into the forelegs of Sweetie Bell.
“Oh thank Celestia you’re ok!” the unicorn filly exclaimed, hugging Cabbage tightly.
“That was crazy,” Scootaloo exclaimed. “Crazy awesome.”
Apple Bloom looked a bit bemused. “I reckon nopony’s gonna argue with you winning this contest,” she said, gesturing at the apple pile.
“No kidding,” Scootaloo said, clapping Cabbage on the back. “If that doesn’t earn you your cutie mark-”
“It didn’t,” Cabbage said, gently extracting herself from Sweetie’s embrace. “No offense to Apple Bloom, but I don’t want to be a farmer.”
“None taken,” the yellow filly said. “But shoot, ya sure got the legs fer it.”
“Please, don’t make a big deal out of it,” Cabbage said. “I already have quite enough of ponies paying attention to me on the stage as it is.”
“If you insist,” Apple Bloom said. “And that reminds me, Ah owe you a big basket. Just how big are we talkin’ anyway?”
“Big enough for me to fit in comfortably,” Cabbage answered. “I’m going to recline in it while dressed as a sea pony during Barancle Salt’s act. The tank we usually use is broken.”
“All right,” AB said, “I think I know right where one is that ain’t being used yet. Scootaloo, go git yer scooter and the wagon and meet us back at the clubhouse. Everypony else, Ah’m gonna need your help carrying the tub.”
“I’ll be there in a flash,” Scootaloo said, and then galloped off.
Apple Bloom started to head off in a different direction, deeper into the orchards, but Cabbage brought her up short with a question. “Are we just going to leave all these apples on the ground?”
“Uh,” Apple Bloom said, looking between the large pile of apples and the inadequately sized basket next to them. “Let’s get as many into the basket as we can and just pile the rest neatly.”
The CMC regrouped as planned after only a few short minutes, and Apple Bloom and Sweetie Bell balanced the wooden tub on their red wagon while Scootaloo towed on her scooter and Cabbage walked alongside, following the trail from the clubhouse to the edge of Sweet Apple Acres property. “Hey Cabbage,” Scootaloo said, “I don’t mean to pry, but you don’t really seem eager to get your cutie mark.”
Cabbage felt her innards start to tense up, but maintained an outward calm as she responded, “I just don’t like to cause a scene over things I can’t help.”
“Alright, I can understand that,” the pegasus said. “Still, you are trying to discover it. You have any ideas?”
Not wanting to send her friend on some wild goose chase, Cabbage tried to dodge the question with a partial truth. “If I had any good ideas, I’d have a cutie mark already,” she said. Glancing pointedly over her shoulder at AB and Sweetie, she continued, “Those two already have their cutie marks, so why not try what they did?”
Scootaloo sighed and rolled her eyes. “As they love to point out, I can’t carry a tune to save my life, so I can’t get a cutie mark for singing like Sweetie Bell, and I’m not as good at fixing and building stuff as Apple Bloom. Trust me, I’ve tried them both a lot.”
“I don’t think she meant it that specifically,” Apple Bloom said.
“You mean we realized what we love to do the most and how we could shape our futures around it, right Cabbage?” Sweetie asked.
“Right,” Cabbage answered.
“Yeah, yeah, that’s pretty much what everypony says,” Scootaloo said wearily. “But I’m pretty good at a lot of things; how am I supposed to know which one’s my special talent? You understand me, right Cabbage? Do you have any kind of idea what your cutie mark could be for?”
A cutie mark for a Changeling, Cabbage thought, bemused, what would that be like? Ponynapping, impersonation, stealing emotions, how could you capture those in a little picture? Well, impersonation is pretty much acting, and I know there ponies with those talents, but the rest… And what about me? What are my special skills? Running, hiding behind crippling shyness and other ponies, mimicking voices, having an eye for pretty ribbons if that even counts. “I couldn’t say,” she answered Scootaloo at last. “I don’t really like being in the spotlight for anything for very long. Attention makes me nervous.”
“You’re definitely a mini-Fluttershy then,” Apple Bloom said good-naturedly. Looking ahead, she saw Applejack and Barnacle Salt coming towards the group along the path. “Here comes AJ,” she said. “Leave the talking to me.”
“Girls,” AJ said with suspicious rebuke, “where are y’all taking that apple basket?”
“We’re lendin’ it to Cabbage Patch fer a little while,” Apple Bloom answered. Before Applejack could protest, she pointed to the cape Cabbage was wearing and added, “She’s part of the club, now, so it’s official Crusader business.”
“That’s nice and all,” AJ said, “but we got a tightly scheduled system fer Applebuckin’ planned out, and there ain’t any space fer loanin’ out our baskets.”
“Cabbage emptied an entire tree in one buck,” Sweetie Bell said.
“Oh really?” AJ said, unbelieving.
“She really did, sis” Apple Bloom said. “Could we lie to you?” She met her sister’s eyes and put on her best pleading face.
Applejack looked at each of the Cutie Mark Crusaders in turn, then glanced at Barnacle, who was looking smug, and sighed. “Fine,” she said, “I reckon harvestin’ that many apples’ll balance borrowin’ the basket fer a while. But yer gonna show me these apples right now Bloom, and if they ain’t there I’m coming to get my property back, understood?”
“Ok AJ,” Apple Bloom said, stepping away from the tub. “Good luck with your show Cabbage, Mr. Barnacle. I’ll come see it if I can.”
“That… would be nice,” Cabbage said, smiling. Apple Bloom returned the smile and then trotted back down the path with Applejack in tow.
Barnacle Salt looked at the tub with an appraising eye, and then smirked. “Seems you found some real good friends here, lass,” he said to Cabbage. “We’d best put some fresh wind under our wings,” he then said to Scootaloo. “Trixie will have herself a conniption if we’re late to the show.”
Applejack stood slightly slack-jawed as she tried in vain to mentally count the apples piled up before her. Apple Bloom rubbed a hoof on her chest nonchalantly and said, “Told ya.”
“Yep, ya sure did,” Applejack said. “One filly did all that in one kick though?”
“Well, a few of them are Sweetie, Scoots, and my work,” Apple Bloom said, “but yeah. It was amazing. Her first two kicks didn’t hardly do anything, but she musta tapped into some kinda hidden earth pony power for the third one. The apples literally buried her.”
“Amazing,” Applejack said. She walked up to the pile and started sorting through it, looking for bruises or other signs of bad apples. They all seemed to be in order, until she found one that appeared to have been pierced by a horn. “Ah see Sweetie Bell had a bit of bad luck with fallin’ apples too,” she said, showing the apple to AB.
“Sweetie didn’t get hit with any apples,” the yellow filly said, confused. “Only Cabbage did.”
“Well that’s strange,” AJ said. “Where’d this hole come from then?”