The last hour of daylight brings with it an end to the day’s work as usual. Even if more needed to be done, or could be done with the aid of firelight, the chance of injury or an attack from some nocturnal beast stalking from the edge of the nearby forest was too much of a risk to take.
Surprisingly, Applejack didn’t really mind all that much. Beasts or no beasts, if it were anything else, she would’ve powered through it with her typical gusto. But this work really took everything out of her, and she was secretly thankful for the reprieve. Her hooves drag slightly as she trots back to a familiar tent set among the many that make up the nearby encampment, her exhaustion mixed with a bit of gladness that other ponies will be handling the night’s meal.
Upon reaching the tent, she takes a glance back over her shoulder at the cleared fields. The stumps will need to be removed tomorrow, but the amount of trees they were able to fell and brush they cleared away truly was a sight to behold. It brings a tired, yet proud smile to her face for a job well done, especially in light of the fact that the forest fought them every step of the way.
She pushes the flap aside and enters the cramped two-pony tent. Bathed in the light of the single firefly lamp hanging above is a certain red-coated stallion sprawled out over one of the sleeping bags. Though his eyes are closed, the lack of annoying snoring is a clue that he’s not asleep, so Applejack doesn’t bother to keep quiet.
“I’m back, lazybones.”
“And ah’m tellin’ ya, if you keep workin’ double shifts, you’re gonna burn yourself out, Lil Sis,” he answers coolly, not bothering to open his eyes.
Applejack scoffs, collapsing atop her own sleeping bag. “An’ how else do ya expect this ta get done on time if I don’t? While I ain’t opposed ta helpin’ out the family for stuff like this, we’ve got a farm ta run back home, Mac! We don’t exactly have time ta be takin’ this at a leisurely pace.”
“Eeyup,” Mac agrees, not wanting to rile his sister up any more than need be.
“I’ll admit that ya might have a point, though.” She sits up and shakes one of her forehooves back and forth. “My achin’ hooves feel like they could fall off at the drop of a hat. I swear, this is some of the toughest land I think I’ve ever seen…”
Mac sits up as well, stretching his neck and yawning. “Ain’t that the truth. It’s like the ground here is… ornery or somethin’. Ah don’t much like it. But on the bright side, with the way things are now, we’ve only got two more days’a this left before we head on back home with Granny.” He glances over to the portion of the cleared fields framed by the setting sun, still visible through the space in the tent flap. “The hard part’s already over, so there ain’t no need for ya to be workin’ any more double shifts.”
Applejack responds by stomping one of her sore hooves in frustration and instantly regretting it. The pain flashes on her face for just an instant, but it doesn’t escape her brother’s notice.
“…An we could’a had it down ta one more day instead’a two if you’d just buckled up and put in the extra effort! Have ya already forgotten about Apple Bloom bein’ all alone at home?!”
The stallion can’t help but chuckle, which he also instantly regrets when it causes the scowl on his sister’s face to deepen.
“Eenope, ah haven’t forgotten. Ah just don’t think there’s much need ta worry, is all.”
“And I don’t understand how it is ya can say somethin’ like that so willy-nilly. You know how she is! I… I can’t believe I let you convince me leavin’ her all by herself at the farm was good idea in the first place…”
He nods. “Ah do know how she is. She’s got a right level head when her friends ain’t around, and they’re both outta town.”
Applejack’s face scrunches when she finds herself unable to deny her brother’s point. A few minutes of silence follow, disturbed only by the chirping of the crickets outside and the occasional rustling of the wind against the tent.
“You… don’t think we left too much for her ta do, do ya?” Applejack asks, her emerald eyes focused on the darkening horizon still visible outside.
“Eenope. Believe it or not, she got most’a it done the first afternoon.”
The young mare turns to her older brother with a confused look. “An’ just how d’ya know that?”
Mac yawns and nods to their pile of gear in the corner of the tent. “Said so in the letter she sent.”
“Mac, I swear ta Celestia, if I wasn’t hurtin’ so bad right now—!” She stands and trots over to the pile, finding an open letter sitting neatly at the very top. “For cryin’ out loud… when did this even come in?”
“Mailmare from Ponyville dropped it off about an hour ago, ah reckon. Said she got a little lost on the way.”
Applejack sighs and shakes her head. That gray-coated mailmare was a sweetheart, but sometimes she could be a little loopy. She carefully takes the pages of the letter closer to the overhead lamp and starts to read, focusing as hard as she can to decipher her little sister’s less-than-ideal hoofwriting.
“Finished it in an afternoon… well I’ll be.”
“Keep readin’,” Mac urges. “Ah think you’re gonna be surprised.”
Applejack turns the first page over and continues on, her eyes widening with each passing sentence.
“Anon? An’ buildin’ kites? What in the world?”
“Even drew a picture,” Mac adds with a chuckle.
She shuffles past the last written page to find a crayon drawing of the yellow filly and tall human together in a field of green grass. Two kites soar in the air above them while the sun, comically sporting a smile and a pair of sunglasses, shines down on the scene. She brings a hoof to her mouth, unable to contain her laughter, prompting her brother to join in with some of his own.
“Old enough ta handle all those chores we left her on her own, but still a filly at heart,” Applejack says, carefully placing the pages of the letter back in the envelope. “Have ya shown this ta Granny yet?”
“Eeyup,” he answers with a yawn, laying his head back on his sleeping bag. “So, what d’ya think? Still worried?”
She smiles and shakes her head. “Nah. Sounds like she’s in good hands.”
“Ah think so too.” He opens his eyes again, training his tired gaze on his stubborn sister. “So that means there ain’t no rush. No more double shifts, y’hear?”
“Fine,” she grumbles, the annoyance of being told what to do overtaking her relief at the reprieve for a moment. “By the way, she mentioned somethin’ in there about fixin’ the back door in the kitchen. Any idea what that’s about?”
“Well… ah’ve been meanin’ ta order some spring-loaded hinges for the screen,” Mac ponders, “but ah don’t think she’d know anythin’ about that.” He shrugs. “Your guess ‘s as good as mine.”
“Well, I reckon we’ll find out for better or worse when we get back…”
There’s a slight, and likely somewhat justified hint of worry in her tone. Her little sister usually means well, but her idea of helping can sometimes lead to unexpected property damage and costly repairs. She places the envelope safely in her saddlebags in the corner of the tent, pausing for a moment as another thought comes to mind.
“Say… we should do somethin’ special for Anon and Pinkie Pie when we get back. Y’know, ta thank ‘em for lookin’ after Apple Bloom. Maybe we could invite ‘em over for dinner or somethin’?”
Her brother nods in agreement. “Sounds like a right good idea. Finally got that recipe for baked trout figured out, huh?”
“Yup, I—” The orange mare suddenly freezes mid step, causing her hat to nearly tumble from her head. “H-H-How in tarnation d’ya know about that?!”
“What, you think ah couldn’t smell all that lemon juice an’ fish after ya were usin’ the oven in the middle of the night a few weeks back?” He grins at his sister, amused by the rosy tone her cheeks have taken. “Yer puttin’ too much lemon in it, by the way.”
“I know that!” she barks, leveling an angry stare at the stallion. “It took a while ta get it right, ‘cause how was I supposed ta know how somethin’ like that should taste? An’ why the heck d’ya even care, anyway, it ain’t any’a your business!”
Mac endures her withering stare, his grin growing wider. “Hey now, ah ain’t tryin’ ta step on your hooves, Lil Sis. Ah’m sure Granny told ya that a way ta a stallion’s heart is through his stomach, an’ she’s darn right about that. Ah’m tryin’ ta say you’re on the right track, is all, and ah’m glad you’re finally makin’ a move.”
A short silence follows as the redness in Applejack’s cheeks slowly travels across her entire body along with visible tremors of anger that even start to shake the overhead lamp. A formerly orange hoof reaches up to tilt the brim of her hat downward, hiding her face from view.
“Just why in the world is it…” Applejack growls, grinding her teeth, “…that whenever ya decide ta open that big dumb mouth’a yours and get chatty, it’s always meant ta drive me up the wall!” She stomps her front hoof and raises her head, fire burning in her eyes. “I don’t care how sore I am right now, if you keep this up I’ll see to it you feel three times worse, big brother!”
Big Mac suppresses the pang of fear that suddenly runs down his spine, fighting to keep his stoic expression in place. Slowly, he lets out the breath he was holding and holds up a hoof in defense.
“Whoa, now, you know ah’m just teasin’ ya. Before ya go an’ do somethin’ that’ll wreck the tent, ya might want ta have a look at this…” He leans down and picks up yet another envelope in his mouth, passing it to his sister. “This one came today too, but ah didn’t open it ‘cause it only had your name on it.”
“Another letter?” Applejack asks, her anger quickly fading. “And not from Apple Bloom? Who else’d be writin’ ta me all the way out here?”
She tears open the envelope and removes the letter inside. A glimmer of recognition flashes in her eyes not a second later, as the flowery lettering and the many doodles in the letter’s margins offer little doubt as to who wrote it.
“Pinkie Pie.”
“From Pinkie?” Mac’s ears perk up, his curiosity piqued. “Somethin’ the matter?”
Applejack reads on for a few more moments before answering, “Yeah… from the sound of it, somethin’ is wrong. She’s talkin’ about some kinda shindig in Dodge Junction this weekend that she’s supposed ta be caterin’ for…”
“Heard somethin’ ‘bout that the other day…” Mac mutters, tapping a hoof to his chin.
“…and she’s askin’ for my help with the bakin’ since they’re so far behind,” she finishes, her muzzle scrunching at the request. “Is she crazy? She knows full well that I can’t just up ‘n leave ta go bake stuff for her when we’re tryin’ ta finish clearin’ land out here! Lands sakes, it’s already Thursday evenin’… there ain’t no time!”
“Well, that ain’t completely true,” Mac mutters, his hoof still tapping periodically as he does some math in his head. “Ah reckon if ya left first thing tomorrow mornin’, and without a cart weighin’ ya down, you’d get back ta the Acres by late afternoon. That’d give ya all of Friday night ta bake stuff for the festival. It might not be a huge help ta her, but it’s better than nothin’, right?”
“But what about all this?” Applejack protests, gesturing to the worksite just beyond the flap of the tent.
Mac rolls his eyes. “What about it? The worst’a it is already over… ah’ll work double shifts the next few days ta pick up the slack, an’ you can head home early. Don’t you worry none, ah’ll be sure ta get things done and bring Granny back home safe ‘n sound.”
Chuckling with amusement the sight of his sister’s now very incredulous expression, he shows her a soft smile.
“C’mon now, ya just said ya wanted ta do somethin’ special for Pinkie Pie. Well, she’s askin’ for your help now, so go on an’ help her. Ah’ll take care’a things here.”
She laughs a little too, trotting over so she can sit beside her brother and give him a hug.
“I swear… no matter how riled up ya can get me sometimes, ya always find a way ta redeem yourself. Thanks, big brother.”
“Don’t mention it. Besides, ah know no matter what ya say, you’re still anxious ta see Apple Bloom again, am ah right?”
“Yeah… you’re right. And ta be honest, from the sound of her letter I’m a little worried she might be pesterin’ Anon even more than Pinkie usually does, if ya can believe that. Poor fella could probably use a break.”
“Eeyup. Goes without sayin’ that ya miss him too,” Mac hums, trying to ignore the sudden increase in pressure from the hooves around his neck. “Oh, and don’t forget: after ya get home, be sure ta clean that oven one more time before ya use it, ‘else whatever ya bake’s gonna taste like a bunch’a lemons that were floatin’ in the lake.”
In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t worth it. The sun had nearly set already, and when last he checked, a storm front was lingering on the horizon. Trying to fix a collapsed tent in the dark with rain pouring down was one of the most miserable experiences he could imagine.
But siblings will be siblings, and when the opportunity for the older brother to tease his younger sister presented itself, it was always impossible for him to deny. Sure, the tent may take an agonizing hour or so to fix, but the memory of the look on her face in that moment would certainly bring him laughter for the rest of his days.
~~~~~~~~~
A faint rumble of thunder echoes just above the sound of the wind through the leaves, prompting Apple Bloom to pick up her pace. There was no need to run, as home wasn’t very far away now, but she felt that a brisk canter would be a good idea to help avoid any sudden downpours, especially since Mr. Anon wasn’t holding an umbrella for her this time.
“Can’t believe I forgot about tonight’s storm…” she grumbles under her breath, angry at herself for making such a careless mistake.
It was true, she hadn’t been paying attention to the weather schedule lately. There was no need to, because the weather at Mr. Anon’s house was wild. Unlike the same old dull routine of rain and shine so carefully planned by the town’s Pegasi, you never knew what kind of weather to expect at Mr. Anon’s. It just kinda… did whatever it wanted, and the more time she spent there, the more she came to find that she really, really liked it. If nothing else, it added a sense of danger and excitement to their kite flying, and it made her feel proud to stand next to him each time they boldly marched into the tall grass of the field, as if they were preparing to challenge the wind itself.
Her ears flatten, and she kicks a loose pebble, watching it bounce and disappear into the grass on the side of the road.
Well, if they really were challenging the wind, then the wind had been kicking their butts so far. They spent the rest of the afternoon trying stuff… messing with the attachment points on the keel, trying a bridle setup instead, adjustments to the wing shape and cross spar… but nothing worked. Some of the changes even made the kites fly worse, or not at all, leaving them right back where they were when they started.
It wasn’t until late in the day that she remembered that there was an overnight storm scheduled to begin around sunset, and that she had some things to take care of in order to get ready for it. Some barrels had to be uncovered and prepped to refill the southwest field’s irrigation system, and the sheep had to be brought in from pasture. Mr. Anon said he had some errands to take care of too, so the two parted ways much earlier than usual. Most days this week she passed through the gate to the Acres just as the sun was setting, but today she was arriving several hours before dusk.
She wastes no time going about her chores as soon as she gets home. Like all the stuff her brother and sister left in her hooves, none of them were particularly difficult, but the gloomy mood that settled over her during her walk home served to make them more annoying than usual. Her already somewhat lacking reserve of patience was all but gone now, and she rushed to finish each task, moving from one thing to the next without paying much attention or giving them much thought.
By the time the sun finally started to set, the storm was rolling in, and that distant thunder didn’t sound so far away anymore. Thankfully, everything got done that needed to, and she had already returned to the safety of the farmhouse, so the rain was welcome as far as she was concerned.
All that was really left now was dinner. She opens the fridge, spotting the food Pinkie dropped off for her earlier in the day, and surprised to find that there was really only enough there for one meal.
“I hope Pinkie Pie remembers to stop by tomorrow. She sure looked out of it today…” she mumbles as she carefully slides the pans of leftovers inside the oven. Once that’s done, she refills Winona’s food and water, then opens the back door, watching for a few moments as the many newly-blossomed apple trees of the back orchards sway to and fro. Bringing her hoof to her mouth, she lets out a high-pitched whistle that echoes even above the sound of the wind. It ends up being so loud that she even feels a slight sense of pride, confident that the loyal border collie heard her call, wherever she may be out there.
With nothing left to do but wait for her food to warm, she takes a seat at the kitchen table, enjoying the cool wind on her back that filters through the screen door. It rustles the edges of the carefully placed stack of papers in the table’s center, the neatly organized box of crayons resting on top of the stack preventing them from flying away. The sight causes her to giggle as she entertains a funny thought.
“It’s right easy to get a piece of paper to fly… I mean, ya just fold it. If only it was that easy for kites, too…”
Resting her head on the table, Apple Bloom closes her eyes and relishes the feeling of the wind surrounding her. Really, now she was just being silly. It wasn’t hard to make a kite that could fly. The first kite they ever made together flew! They made one that could fly in almost no breeze… they made one that could fly in the strongest gusts, and they made one that could handle everything in between.
But what they couldn’t make was one that could fly no matter what the wind decided to do…
She opens her eyes again, a slight smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Nah, that ain’t right, either. It’s not that we can’t do it… it’s that we haven’t yet.”
Though Apple Bloom was confident it was possible to make such a kite, she didn’t know how to. And neither did Mr. Anon. He was just as lost as she was. It was funny… a grownup who she thought was so smart, and so kind, who was so much older than her, who had seen and done so much more, and who came from a whole other world, even… and in this thing, they were in exactly the same boat. All they could do was ponder and guess. Plan and try. Fail and learn.
And that was it, wasn’t it? In that moment, she truly understood what he meant when he said that growing up and getting older doesn’t give you all the answers. There were times, even in the recent past, when she would look at her older brother and sister and think that they could do anything. But now… it wasn’t that they could do anything… nopony could. But what they did do, they tried their best at, and that was part of what made them seem so amazing to her.
Mr. Anon was like that, too. Even though he didn’t know the answer, he believed that he’d find it… that they’d find it together, because he believed in her, too. So what good was moping around because the day didn’t go like she wanted? What good was getting discouraged just because something wasn’t easy? He believes in her… so doesn’t she owe it to him to try her best? Doesn’t she owe it to herself?
She raises her head from the table, a full smile now shining on her face and her spirits lifted. Like he said, they weren’t beaten yet. In a way, they’d already won. They overcame everything the wind threw at them with three different kites… so if they could somehow combine those three into one, that’d be all they’d need. If they could magically make a kite that could grow and shrink whenever the wind changed, that’d be—
“Woof!”
And seemingly right on cue, Winona pushes open the screen door, excitedly greeting her little master before turning her attention to the irresistible bowl of food placed out for her. Apple Bloom, her pondering interrupted, turns in her chair to watch the door sway back and forth, enjoying that lingering feeling of pride at watching something she made work as it was meant to. To her slight surprise, the elastic bands on either side smoothly guide the door into the latch, even with the extra force of the wind from outside pushing against it.
And as she watches, her eyes widen, her golden irises shrink, her mouth hangs open and she forgets to breathe…
“Oh… oh my gosh! That’s it! THAT’S IT!!”
The little pony spins around in her chair as fast as she can, reaching for the box of crayons and the stack of paper, and as the next hours pass, the kitchen table disappears underneath page after page of notes and drawings.