Lemon Pie let out a sigh of relief as she reached the first buildings of Saddle Burr. Stopping she turned her head to look around. Should she go ahead to the town's market and try to sell the remnants of her crop, or should she just go straight to the doctor and be check up to find out how bad it she hurt herself?
It had taken some effort to get the cart upright again (the mare thinks she might have pulled something in the process). Then she had to pick up as many of the lemons that fell out as she could find that were not too badly damaged. Between the ones that were lost and the ones that were destroyed in the crash, she probably lost about a third of it all in total. Once that was done, Lemon had to hook herself back up to the cart, which was a slow and painful process for her. The pain was made worse when she began to pull the thing. Luckily there were no other incidents on the way to Saddle Burr.
Maybe she should have gone home. She could use the lemons from today's crop in the kitchen instead of trying to sell them. There were other trees waiting to be harvested from. She could go home, put some of the current lemons in the kitchen, the rest in the bin in the barn, harvest a new crop, make some refreshments, then bring it all to town first thing in the morning to sell and try again.
Instead, Lemon continued to make her way through town, working toward the market square. She had made it this far, so she decided that she may as well try to see it through to the end. Besides, if she was able to make it all the way to Saddle Burr on her own, she would probably be fine. No reason to waste the last few bits she had on a doctor's visit that would be a waste.
Reaching the town market, she quickly found an open spot between two kiosks to set up. Not enough space for another tent to set up, but enough for her and the cart. It also seemed like there was plenty of hoof traffic. It was a relief when she detached herself from the traces and stretched. Now she just had to set up the sign and...
Pits and peels! the mare thought with a groan, slapping a hoof against her forehead. There was no sign for her to put up. She had never made one to begin with. She had been so busy and excited about harvesting and selling her crops, that it had slipped her mind.
Nothing she could do about it now. Straightening up, she took a deep breath and put on a smile.
"Lemons," she said as ponies passed, "lemons. Juicy ripe lemons fresh from the farm. First crop from Little Lemon Heaven."
"Excuse me?" a voice said.
Lemon turned to look. Standing nearby was a pony, slightly smaller than her wearing a pair of saddlebags.
"I'm afraid I'm out of bits," the other pony said, "and was wondering if you were willing to barter?"