“I’m gonna kill ‘em. I really mean it, Mac.”
“Eeenope,” Big Macintosh said. He’d always been the calmer of the two.
“Well, alright, not really.” Applejack frowned at the fallen tree. It was an old one, and only half its leaves had come in that spring. If she were being honest, it was probably going to be chopped down in a few weeks anyway, to make room for a new sapling.
But that was her job, not theirs. Just a few hours into the first day of summer, and they were already on the warpath.
“How did they even knock it down?” she asked. She stepped over to the uprooted bowl, a mass of broken and stripped roots clogged with dirt. A few tiny centipedes crawled through the disturbed earth around her feet. “They just dug it up?”
“It was already fallin’ over, AJ. They just gave it a little nudge.”
“But why? Why, Mac? Did they think they’d get a tree-uprooting cutie mark?”
He shrugged.
She sighed. “Whatever. I’ll go get the axe. You start thinkin’ of chores for her to do.”
“Eeeyup.”