//------------------------------//
// Chapter 4 
// Story: Storm on the Prairie 
// by Trinary 
//------------------------------//

Applejack found herself wandering through the orchards of Appleloosa. Normally when she wanted some time alone to think she’d walk through the apple trees of Sweet Apple Acres. Appleloosa’s orchard was nice enough, but it wasn’t home. Instead of the soft, loamy soil and rolling green hills, the trees here were planted in harsh sand and dirt. The land was so flat and barren that there was no place to sit comfortably, no place where she could sit beneath a tree and look down over the rest of the orchard. The collide between the familiar and the strange was too much for her, so she kept walking.

Her hooves carried her out onto the open plain. As the lights of Appleloosa grew smaller and dimmer, the stars seemed to glow even brighter. She found herself staring at them as she walked, not even noticing that she was no longer alone until she bumped into something rather large and hairy. “Whu—oh sorry!” She blurted out as she realized that she had bumped into a buffalo. A very large one, wearing a feathered headdress.

Fortunately, he did not seem much disturbed by the encounter—likely because she was a quarter his size. “When one’s hooves are on the ground and one’s mind in the sky, accidents can happen.” He dipped his head. “I am Chief Thunderhooves. Who are you to be wandering the plains so late?”

Applejack blinked and doffed her hat respectfully. “Oh, pleased t’meet you, sir. My name’s Applejack.”

The Chief dipped his mammoth head. “Ah, Little Strongheart has spoken of you. You are kin to the Loud Pony?”

“The lou—oh! Braeburn. Yes, he’s my cousin.”

“He is a good pony,” Thunderhooves declared. “If you are his kin, you are welcome in our camp.”

Applejack put her hat back upon her head. “Thank you kindly. It’s a real lovely place y’all got here.” Her eyes wandered over the encampment. Tipis dotted the landscape, forming a rough circle around a large campfire. Buffalo came and left as they pleased to sit or dance by the fire. She spotted Wigwam and several other ponies dancing with them. Still can’t figure why they want to live like this …

Her face must’ve reflected what she was thinking, for Chief Thunderhooves spoke up. “It is strange, seeing ponies here, isn’t it?" Flustered, Applejack started to stammer out an apology, but he waved it off. “There is no need for apologies. I felt the same way, at first.”

“You—you did?” Applejack felt confused, but also a bit relieved to find that it wasn’t just her.

Thunderhooves nodded. “Wigwam was the first to come. He said he wanted to learn our ways, for the way of those he was born into did not fit. I was … unsure of how to answer him.” He led Applejack through the camp. “There is nothing in our traditions that says that outsiders can or cannot join us, mostly because we buffalo have largely kept to ourselves. No buffalo ever thought that a pony would seek to join our tribe.” He grunted. “I had first thought to deny him, but Wigwam was stubborn and would not go. For three weeks he followed our tribe as we traveled across the plain, always keeping pace with us. He would camp apart from us, set up his own tipi apart from our own and then continue on the next day. Much of what he did was wrong, the way he ran or the manner in which he attempted to learn our language and customs. I thought it a mockery of our ways.”

“What changed your mind?” Applejack asked as they walked.

They soon cleared the camp so that it was just the two of them. Thunderhooves sat down, beckoning Applejack to join him. “His stubbornness. In time I saw that it was not mockery, but an honest imitation of our ways, much as a calf might seek to mimic the mannerism of his father. Soon I found myself and others correcting his mistakes in how he set up his tipi, offered him advice on how to better run with us … before long, I could no longer tell the difference between him and the rest of my tribe. He might have well been running with us all his life. Who was I, then, to say that he was not one of us?”

Applejack nodded. It ain’t what you’re born into that matters, it’s what you choose to be. She had any number of relatives who had married into the Apple family, but they had soon become as close to her as any blood relative. Shewt, Ah even once tried to convince myself to be a Manehattan Orange instead of an Apple. Perhaps that had been her problem, she thought to herself. When I tried leaving the farm, I realized it was a mistake. But it was a mistake for me, not for everypony. Another pony could be happier in Manehattan or in the buffalo tribe than they would be on Sweet Apple Acres, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Just because the farm was right for me, doesn’t mean it would be right for everypony else. But then she thought of Braeburn, and how he was an Apple to the core—yet he didn’t leave Appleloosa for the buffalo, but wanted to mix the two up.

Chief Thunderhooves let her think and stew for a while before speaking up again. “When some of my tribe wished to settle down in Appleloosa, living as you ponies do, I had a hard time accepting it. I thought they were forsaking the ways of my father, and of his father before him, and his father before him and…” He paused and shook his head. “I am rambling. Little Strongheart has been trying to get me to work on that, but that too is part of our ways: stories are how we maintain our traditions.”

“S’the same for us,” Applejack assured him. “The stories my Granny Smith tells us are how we remember who we are and where we came from. Ah can understand you having trouble when buffalo want to live like ponies.”

Thunderhooves grunted. “I felt it like a wound, that some of my tribe would find the ways of others better than our own. It was like they were rejecting our heritage—rejecting what made them buffalo, as well as rejecting what had made me, me.”

Applejack nodded numbly as she heard him give voice to the feelings she hadn’t been able to articulate. “Ah’m guessing something changed your mind? What was it?” She waited for him to dig something out of a pouch he had slung around his neck.

He pulled out a small, rusted, battered old pie tin and laid it gently on the ground “This.”

“That ol’ thing?” Applejack’s confusion couldn’t have been any greater if he had pulled Pinkie Pie out of his bag.


But Thunderhooves nodded. “When we buffalo and the ponies were arguing, Little Strongheart came bearing a fresh apple pie in that very tin. But I was not convinced of having my tribe participate in our stampede to help the settler ponies harvest their apples.” He shook his mammoth head, chuckling. “Little Strongheart would not accept my answer and continued to offer me the pie. She was frustrated by my continued refusal, and ended up shoving the pie in my face.” He licked his lips. “The truth had never tasted so delicious. This tin ended my stubborn ways and showed me the start of a new path. I have eaten all my desserts from it, as a keepsake.”

Granny Smith would be glad to hear that, Applejack smirked to herself. Then she thought of the alterations being made to traditional Apple family recipes and her unease returned. “And that’s it? That’s what convinced you?”

Thunderhooves sighed. “Old traditions are wonderful and must be preserved, but I soon began to see new traditions from our arrangement and found that they too are wonderful. While part of me regrets that our sacred stampede my tribe honors has become a farming exercise, I see young calves still honoring it in their own way.” A faint smile crossed his face as he looked out over to the trail that ran through the orchard. “They have taught the ponies who joined us, and those who participate in the run, how to do it right. They are still proud of their traditions and themselves, even though they now express it in a different way. The old will live on in the new. As long as there are stubborn folk as we who will not let them forget entirely.” He paused. “But enough of an old bull’s rumblings. Would you care to join me for an apple pie?”

Applejack smiled. “I’d like that very much, thanks.” They headed back to the buffalo camp and acquired a pie. The two of them sat together under the desert sky, sharing a peace pie in an old tin.
 



Applejack wandered back to the town orchard, feeling more at ease there than she had earlier before. But she was still feeling conflicted. She sat herself down under an apple tree and thought.
 
But that wasn’t what Braeburn and the others were doing. It wasn’t that they were embracing a new tradition—Applejack could cope with that. If that’s what he wants, then Ah’ll be there to support him. But he’s changing the things that make the Apple family—the Apple family! It ain’t just about what he wants, but he’s changing things for everypony in Appleloosa—forever!

Isn’t it?

“Applejack?” Braeburn’s soft voice nearly caused her to leap up. She turned just as Braeburn emerged from around another tree. “There you are—Ah was so worried ‘bout you. You okay?”

She opened her mouth, but a sudden swell of emotion constricted her throat and she was unable to choke out so much as a word. Seeing her distress, Braeburn sat down and hugged her. “Hey there, s’okay … nopony’s mad at you, I promise. It’s okay…”

That’s when she finally broke down. Applejack sobbed as she buried her face in Braeburn’s shoulder, wracking with sobs. She didn’t realize until then just how much she had needed this. It was always offering support to Apple Bloom, to her introverted brother, her friends. She hadn’t been comforted like that in quite a while. I suppose everypony needs to be held every now and again, she thought as Braeburn stroked her mane. After a while, Applejack had lost her sense of time, she got herself under control. “I’m okay Brae … sorry, ‘bout that,” she sniffled, rubbing at her face with a hoof. “Ah must look a right mess.”

“Aww, s’okay,” Braeburn sat back, a foreleg still draped across her shoulders. “Happens t’everypony now and then.”

“Reminds me when…” Applejack felt her throat tighten again and coughed. “When you were there after Mom and Dad—”

“You don’t have to say it,” he said softly, patting her back.

Applejack went silent for a bit. Braeburn didn’t press her, letting it go on as long as she wanted. Finally she spoke up, “Seeing you brings it all back, Ah suppose. Now, don’t you go an’ apologize,” she forestalled him. “It ain’t yer fault.”

“Ain’t yours neither,” he pointed out. “Y’never let yerself move on.”

“How can Ah move on when Ah still have to remind myself that they’re gone?” She demanded in frustration. “Sometimes Ah’ll see something and say to mahself, ‘I’ll have to tell Ma and Pa about this!’ Or Ah’ll wake and head downstairs for breakfast and just for a second, not remember why they aren’t there. And then I remember, and it all comes … it just comes flooding back, y’know?” Her voice cracked and she took another deep, shuddering breath. “But even worse…” She fell silent.

“You can tell me,” Braeburn said softly. “Ah promise, this won’t go any farther than just the two of us if you don’t want it to. Ah won’t be judging you, neither.”

Applejack mustered what small reserve of fortitude she had left and pushed forward. “The worst part is … there are other times Ah can barely remember them,” she admitted. “I remember having them, but I don’t know if I’m actually remembering them, y’know? Ah realized that Ah don’t even remember what Daddy sounded like.” Her voice cracked at the end, resulting in another comforting squeeze from her cousin. She patting his hoof in acknowledgement, but drove forward. “Ah don’t know why it’s like that! It should be one or the other, shouldn’t it? But it ain’t and it drives me crazy! And Ah know you’ll say something about them always being with me, and it sounds nice ‘n all … but it ain’t enough. You don’t think you’d ever forget something like that, but you do. Ah hate it. Ah hate it so much that…” a hitch in her voice forced her to stop again. She took a breath, grateful that Braeburn was giving her the time to get it all out.

“It’s only gonna get harder the more time goes on,” she paused to wipe at her muzzle with her foreleg. “But when Ah’m out there in the fields they worked in everyday, doing the things they did the way they did … I feel closer to them. It’s like I’m actually living a bit of their lives, and that they’re right there with me.”

“I can understand that,” Braeburn nodded. “S’how you wanna honor them and I admire that. You’re an Apple to the core, after all.”

“But now you’re changing everything!” She looked at him, begging him to understand. “When new generations of Apples do things the way yer teaching ‘em … they won’t be doing things the way my parents did. It’s like … it’s like seeing the last little bit of them dying. Like now they’ll really be gone.”

Braeburn bit his lip. “And that’s what’s gotten you all torn up? Aww, cous, Ah’m sorry,” he hugged her again—he always was good at that. “I never want to do anything to hurt you, you know that right?” She nodded. “Allright, and I get what you’re saying. But the way they harvested apples or the games they played: those were things they did—Ah don’t think it was who they were, you know?”

“Maybe, but it was big part of their lives,” Applejack countered. “It’s a part of their lives that I want to have for Apple Bloom when she gets older. She isn’t gonna have the memories of them that me and Big Mac do.”

“And you wanted her to have the same memories of them that you did?” Braeburn guessed.

Applejack nodded. “Ah guess so … maybe Ah thought it’d be easier to remember them if Ah had more ponies who remembered them th’ way Ah did.” She sighed. “When things kept going wrong for me in the rodeo it felt like Ah couldn’t win doing things the Apple family way—my parents’ way. When we won, it was because of Rainbow Dash or because of some newfangled thing. It was like the things my parents did weren’t good enough anymore.”

“Aww, AJ,” Braeburn sighed as he hugged her. “You know that ain’t so. S’just … you find different ways of doing things. Sometimes they’re better, sometimes they ain’t. But it’s better to try than t’stay stuck in yer ways.” 

Applejack shook her head. “How long is it before ponies are doing things completely different than the way our parents did them? Because you know what’ll happen: they’ll look back and think the things my parents did were silly or ridiculous and old-fashioned, and they’ll eventually think my parents were silly and ridiculous too.” Braeburn opened his mouth, but Applejack waved him off. “And don’t tell me it isn’t true! We’ve seen it happen! Shewt, even Ah think Granny Smith is a bit odd sometimes, so don’t tell me Ah’m making this up!”

Braeburn wrestled with that for a moment before sighing. “All right, Ah won’t. Yer right, that’s the way it is: younger ponies not getting how older ones could’ve lived without this or that new fangled thing. Mebe they project things back a bit, thinking older generations were weird or goofy for not thinking of it sooner. It’s just life.”

Tears leaked out of Applejack’s eyes again. “Mah parents don’t deserved to be remembered like that. Dammit, they aren’t just a-a phase or something outta the past! They’re my parents!”

“Ah know.” He rubbed her shoulder. “One o’ the toughest things to learn is that you can’t control what other ponies think or feel. You can only really do that for yourself. But Ah can tell you that all the ponies who matter, the ones who knew your parents, our family? They’ll never think that of them.” He paused and chuckled. 

Applejack looked at him curiously. “Whut’re you smiling ‘bout?”

“Well, Ah remembered that time your Pa took us for that walk through WhiteTail Woods.” He grinned. “Remember how he swore up and down that patch of moss by the river was actually grass? Your Momma tried telling him, but he wouldn’t listen until he went and sank his leg up to the hock in it!”

Applejack let out a bark of laughter. “Oh sweet molasses, Ah remember that! He was wearing his brand new horseshoes, too! He was so upset at himself--Momma never let him forget about it whenever he was doing something she thought was foolish!”

“Eyup!” Braeburn dipped his hat to her. “See, even remembering the times your parents were silly ain’t so bad.”

Applejack’s throat tightened. “Thanks.” She coughed, before lapsing into a long silence. Braeburn didn’t try to fill it, instead letting her set the pace. “When they d—after they were gone, you were there fer me. You and Big Mac were my rock,” she smiled sadly. “Ah don’t think I ever told you just how much it meant t’me having you there.”

“You never had to,” Braeburn patted her back. “It’s what family is for.”

She shook her head. “It was more than that, an’ you know it. Ah felt like I could talk to you about things I couldn’t even tell Big Macintosh. I said you’re my favorite cousin, and I meant it.” Her face fell. “But then you left. You got your own life out here, your own home, your own friends and family and… Ah ain’t a part of it. Not like they are.”

“Aw, cous…” Braeburn hugged her close. “I’m a lucky pony. I’ve got a lot of great friends in my life, ponies and buffalo. S’how I am. But even if I was offered all of Equestria, I wouldn’t trade away what I have with you. You’re my cousin, mah friend, and my inspiration.”

Applejack gave him a sad half-smile. “I know what you mean. Ah love mah new friends … but Ah wish you were there anyway, so I could share the ‘perience with you.”

“Ah feel the same. But you’re with me in lots of other ways.” He took his hat off. “You know all the talk about the ponies and buffalo making peace?” She nodded. “Well, the truth is that I was the one who met with Little Strongheart and we sorta came up with the idea of making a trail through the orchard. She went back to talk to Chief Thunderhooves, but I had to go deal with the town and Sheriff Silverstar. And I admit, all four of my knees were knocking at the thought of facing all them ponies and telling ‘em that we had to take some of our trees to make way for these buffalo. So when I was scared Ah thought to myself, ‘What would Applejack do?’”

 Applejack’s face colored. “C’mon, you don’t have to butter me up…”

“I’m serious,” he insisted and the lack of his trademark grin seemed to support his case. “Applejack, you’re one of the bravest ponies I know. Shewt, I knew it before you became a national hero ‘n all. You’re always sure of what the right thing to do is, and you don’t let anything get in your way once you’ve set your mind to something. While sometimes that can get you into trouble,” he gave her a significant look, “it’s what I needed to do. The alternative was a war between the buffalo and the ponies and Ah couldn’t let that happen so—Ah pulled an Applejack.”

That made her smile. “Pulled an Applejack? Never heard anypony call ‘doing something gol-durn’ crazy’ that before.”

“They should,” Braeburn commented. “It fits.”

She snorted and whapped him with her hat again. “You never know when t’quit, do ya?”

He beamed. “Nope. Ah learned from the best.”

Applejack leaned back against the tree. “So whut now?”

“Now?” Braeburn patted her hat down. “Now we head on back and enjoy the rest of the reunion! Right?”

She nodded slowly. Applejack knew there’d be Tartarus to pay for the her temper, but she was more than willing to own up and take whatever came from it. She climbed to her hooves. “Sure. Let’s mosey.”

Braeburn must’ve seen what was on her mind, because he spoke up. “Don’t worry none, ponies were more worried ‘bout you than anything else.” Applejack grimaced, as that felt even worse. “Even Little Strongheart went out searching for ya.” He smiled, his face oozing admiration. “Isn’t she something?”

Applejack’s ear twitched. “Actually, now that you mention it … would there be something going ‘tween you and Miss Strongheart?” She had barely voiced the thought before she got her answer, as Braeburn started stammering and blushing up a storm. “Heh, suppose that answers that!” She grinned. “Should probably go tell Big Mac and Apple Bloom--shewt, why not share it with the whole family, seeing as it’s a reunion and all!”

“Applejack!” Braeburn whinnied, mortified at the thought. “Ya wouldn’t do that t’me, would ya?” She pretended to think it over. “Cousin AJ!”

“Okay, okay!” She chuckled. “Ah ain’t gonna put you on the spot like that.” Her smile faded as she heard an all-too familiar noise. “Uh-oh, incoming!” She dove to the ground.

Braeburn blinked in confusion. “Say whut?” 

A heartbeat later, Rainbow Dash had knocked him to the ground. “Alright AJ, you got some serious explaining to do!”

“Uh, Rainbow?” Applejack got up. “Guess again.”

“Miss Dash?” Braeburn wheezed weakly.

“Oh.”

Applejack trotted over, smiling wryly. “Should I give the two of you a moment?”

Rainbow grumbled and stood. “Shut up, I’ve got a bone to pick with you.” She prodded Applejack in the chest. “What the feather was that all about?!”

She sighed. “Braeburn? Could you give us a minute?”

“Sure,” Braeburn groaned as he got up and walked ahead of them. “Don’t mind me, I’ll just be over here.”

Once he was out of earshot, Applejack looked to Rainbow. “Ah’m sorry.”

“That’s it?” Rainbow threw up her hooves. “That’s all you have to say?”

“No, it isn’t but…” Applejack rubbed her face. “Look, Ah owe you the full explanation, but for right now, there’s something else Ah need to tell you.”

“And what’d that be?” Rainbow looked warily at Applejack.

She didn’t answer at first, just removing her hat from her head. “We each let something drive us forward: a promise we made. You made a promise to yourself to always be better, to be awesome and amazing. But for me? I made my promise to my parents after they...” she coughed. “Thing is, you can release yourself from a promise you made to yourself. A promise you made to somepony else … that’s harder to break.”

“Even if it’s a promise they never asked you to make? One they wouldn’t want you torture yourself over?” Rainbow questioned.

“Even so.” Applejack sighed. “That don’t excuse anything, mind you. Ah’ll go ‘round and apologize to everypony and buffalo once we get back. That includes you too.”

Rainbow Dash grunted something not quite intelligible and waved her hoof dismissively. “Forget about it. I’ll find a way to make you suffer later.”

“Gee, thanks.” Applejack deadpanned.

“Hey, you know it could be a lot worse,” Rainbow nudged her. "Look, I know I'm not great about picking up on personal feelings and stuff sometimes. But you can still tell me when something's bugging you. And if it matters to you, then I'll try to see things your way." 

Applejack felt her shoulders slump in relief. "Thanks Rainbow. Ah appreciate that, Ah really do."

Rainbow nodded. "And if I tell you to rein it in, maybe it'll get through that thick head of yours." She shrugged. "Maybe." 

Applejack grunted but couldn't think of a retort. Rainbow grinned, a familiar competitive glint in her eyes. “Come on, I’ll race you back. Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll arrive in time to see me finishing off the last mug of cider!”

Applejack let out a strangled snorted. “You wouldn’t da—” Rainbow Dash sped off mid-sentence. “Why you no-good, consarn, dad gum it … sidewindin’—get your rump back here! You leave my cider alone or Ah’ll kick it all the way back to Ponyville! You hear me?!” She galloped off after her friend, but was unable to hide her grin.

Braeburn was left blinking in the dust. “Hey, wait for me!”





THE END