And the Prairie Grass Blew

by Avid_Reader

Chapter Three

Once all of the dishes were washed and put away I watched the sun set over the Smith orchard, sinking below a lone oak tree standing upon a hill. This was admittedly beautiful country, and the warm smells and talk surrounding me made me feel almost at home. My chest gave a sudden twinge, heart and mind heavy with memories of the family I had left behind in Filly, as well as those that now lay bleaching in the Palomino sands. I was thankful to experience the surroundings of a family home once again, but I knew that I had to contact my own folks soon. Letting loose a sigh that I didn’t realize I was holding, I turned back to the hospitable Smiths, and to Grainne.

---

Leaning against the doorway into her kitchen, it was easy for Sow n’ Sew Smith to observe her family, as she had done for so many years. This particular night, though, she watched the visiting colt look out her kitchen window. The poor lad had obviously been through a lot recently and carried an aurora of experience about him that would befit a much older stallion. This Quick Pick couldn’t be any older than the youngest of her sons, Octavo, yet he had probably seen more in his travels of Equestria than many others, herself included, had ever witnessed. Her heart went out to the colt, remembering the weary life her own family once led on the roads of Equestria and the unspoken ordeals experienced by ponies like them. It was obvious to the mare that her daughter’s heart had gone out to Quick as well, only in a much more youthful fashion. A soft smile graced Sow’s muzzle at that last realization; she had long awaited a worthy colt for her daughter’s heart. Such was an expectation she would gladly hold for Quick Pick Apple after seeing the honesty in his eyes. Sow kept her smile up when Quick turned back towards her family, and cast a motherly eye over his form once again. Just as it was obvious to her that the colt hadn’t had a decently cooked in far too long, the mare recognized from her own experience a longing for a homely roof to sleep under; and she would be darned if she wasn’t able to fulfill such a simple want. Walking over the smooth planks of her kitchen floor, Sow laid a motherly hoof on Quick’s muscular shoulder and looked deep into the colt’s rich green eyes. “We have an empty room that’s yours to have if’n you need a place to spend the night, Quick. There’s no need to go sleep out in the grass or whatever foolishness I see galloping through yer head!”

Quick showed his surprise with a slight flaring of his nostrils and an increasingly wry grin. Sow noted with amusement as his gaze flicked over to her husband and daughter before meeting her in the eyes again. “Apples aren’t ones to let such amazing hospitality overripe, Mrs. Smith, so I will gladly take you up on that if I’m allowed to lend a hoof around the orchard tomorrow.” Quick ended looking at Mr. Smith. “I know my way around an orchard enough to be a help.”

Mr. Smith let out another rumbling guffaw. “Colt, I’d be crazy to turn down a day of help from an Apple. Yer welcome in this house as long as you can stand the cooking of these here mares!” Mrs. Smith snorted at her husband amidst an affirmative nod while Grainne rolled her eyes and smiled widely at Quick.

Quick Pick Apple matched Grainne’s brilliant smile and chuckled at the familiar antics. “You’d have me here for a long while yet before that would happen, Mr. Smith!”

---

My hooves were already on the floor as the first red rays of Celestia’s dawn rolled in through the window. Years of instinct had driven me up from the best night of rest I had enjoyed in months, and I now fussed with the sheet corners of my borrowed bed, getting everything up to Momma Apple standards. My hat and knife were already on me, donned by the same instincts that had awoken me. I quietly made my way through the Smith home towards the muffled rattling in the kitchen, where the Smith parents were already having their morning coffee. Waving off the wonderful Mrs. Smith from rising I went to pour my own cup from the stove, taking it just as black as the rest. Sitting in the same spot as last night, I enjoyed looking around the small but homey kitchen until Mr. Smith rose to his hooves with a nod and started his way out the back door. Murmuring my thanks to Sow n’ Sew, I placed my heavy porcelain cup in the washbasin and followed him out.

Despite the Smith family orchard being smaller than the average Apple’s by a good bit, I found the neat rows of healthy trees no less impressive in the morning light. Here was an orchard that was loved and lived off of, as evidenced by its impeccable care and the spring that had developed in the step of Tumbleseed Smith. I was surprised to see the unpainted door of their small barn be opened from within by Grainne, who was backing her way into it while dragging a good-sized stack of baskets by the handle. Trying my best not to stare at the way her athletic flanks powered herself backwards through the door, I trotted ahead and opened it the rest of the way. Grainne finished dragging the baskets to the end of the door and left them there to prop it open. Receiving another beautiful grin and a good morning from the mare as her father hooked himself up to an old wagon I felt that increasingly familiar flutter in my chest. As I followed the mare into the barn to help load the rest of the harvest baskets into the wagon, I had to admit that this was indeed a mare worth falling for.

Walking out to the west section of the Smith orchard revealed the whole lot of Smith land to be perfectly maintained. “We sure are lucky you showed up, Quick, ‘cause the summer harvest is just starting fer us.” I nodded my agreement as I studied the plump Gravensteins and Paula Reds hanging from the surrounding trees. “With my colts gone this year I was planning on having to hire in some help from town, but hopefully it won’t come ta’ that.”

Watching curiously as the large pony unhooked himself from the cart and went for a ladder hanging on the side of his wagon, I started unloading the harvest baskets and carefully arranged them at the base of a nearby tree, just as my pa had shown me years ago. Now I had Mr. Smith watching me with an air of curiosity as I carefully stretched out my muscles and backed towards the tree. Despite his almost bored, stoic expression, he jumped and dropped the piece of straw out of his mouth when I let loose a lightning-fast buck to his apple tree. The straw drifted to his hooves as he stared open-jawed at the apples falling neatly into the arranged baskets. “What was that, colt?!” came his expected explanation.

I chuckled and started consolidate the apples into fewer baskets before loading them into the wagon. “That right there is Applebuckin,’ Mr. Smith. It’s a thing we Apples have done for generations, but I’ll show you how so we can get all these harvested ourselves while their still crisp,” I nodded back at the summer apples, “its all in the Earth Pony spirit, Tumbleseed.”

“Well I’ll be.” Mr. Smith marveled at my feat of harvest for a little while longer before moving to help me load the baskets. Honestly, it had taken a fair amount of my will power to blast all the apples out of that tree in a single kick, but I felt that I could power through the rest of the day regardless. I wasn't letting the chance to impress Grainne’s father pass me by, either. The older stallion spoke up again, “Will I have ta’ kick that fast? I don’t think my back could hold up to that pace fer long anymore.”

“You shouldn't have to, Mr. Smith. A quick buck just suits me better, Applebuckin’ being magic-related an all.” We both sat under the next tree in line as I began to explain the intricacies of applebucking. It was a thing all Apples grew up learning to do, no matter what, and is a fine way to build character. Applebucking is one the few ways us Earth Ponies can project our inherent magic, literally infusing our hooves with it and combining the willpower with a sudden buck to coax the apples out of an apple tree. Such earth pony magic relies on our ability to shape our will and project it into our hooves, a much more personal way than the fancy mental spells of the unicorns. My own gift being swift agility, it is easier to project my will in a ‘quick’ buck. Mr. Smith had indeed heard of and uses his earth pony magic in similar ways, but I could tell that his knowledge was centered on the actual growing of the trees from seeds, befitting his cutie mark, instead of harvesting them. Thus, the older stallion sat and listened enraptured to all of this as I showed him the best way to position the baskets under the tree. After a few mars on the bark of the tree and a couple of sore hooves, Tumbleseed Smith finally figured out how to focus his magic in a buck, rewarding us with a haphazard shower of apples. As we picked up the stray apples, he began explaining how he was able to use his magic to store and grow seeds in return for my applebucking lesson. While I had been taught a good bit about such growing magic, it was a boon to learn from a stallion as gifted in it as Tumbleseed. Soon we had fallen into a good working rhythm, filling the west end of the orchard with the satisfying sounds of trees being bucked and apples tumbling into baskets, the ladder long forgotten.

The noontime sun was shining bright and hot upon us when Grainne trotted up, a large lunch pail dangling merrily from her mouth by a rope handle. Over the light meal of flowery sandwiches and cold pie, I gladly repeated the lesson on applebucking for Grainne. The way her eyes followed my every movement combined with a cute perk of her ears made her interest obvious, and I found myself having to work hard to focus through my own explanation. After finishing up with the last of the cold pie, which I honestly tried to not completely devour, Grainne hung her pail and shawl on the wagon and joined us for the rest of the day’s applebucking. Mr. Smith and I shared a knowing grin as Grainne backed up to the tree, her orange eyes glinting with determination. Grainne stretched her lithe back out in a most attractive fraction, and my eyes fought with my better senses as I tried to pull them away from the mesmeric sight, knowing that Mr. Smith was only a few tail-lengths away. The spunky young mare looked up and into my eyes right before unleashing a punishing buck into the apple tree, astonishing all of us with an orderly rain of apples. I would've never thought that applebucking could turn me on like this, but here I stood with both my eyebrows and temperature raised. Grainne either had a truly impressive amount of willpower or a knack for applebucking, but from what I had seen in the short time I had spent with the spirited young mare it was likely a combination of both.

Aided by Grainne, the rest of the crisp Gravensteins were harvested with plenty of time to spare before supper. The fact that Grainne was able to keep pace with us the entire time was yet another reminder that there was more to the mare than met the eye, which was already quite fine to meet. Loading the wagon for the last time, Tumbleseed turned it away from the sinking sun and plodded alongside us back towards the barn. We only made it halfway back before he spoke up, looking over at us through the corner of his eye. “Now I can wheel this old wagon into the barn myself, and your mother can definitely manage supper herself fer a night. I just don’t want to see yall late to the table, y’hear?” I processed what he said for a beat and blinked my eyes in surprise.

“I’m mighty appreciative of it, sir. You couldn't find me late for your wife’s cooking for anything, either!” Grainne blushed slightly as I thanked the good old pony. Slowing up to let Mr. Smith and the wagon roll on ahead, I smiled down at the slightly shorter mare. “Would you mind showing me the rest of your orchards, Grainne?”

“I’d love to, Quick,” came the cheerful reply. Simply walking through the orderly apple trees of the Smith orchard proved to be uncommonly enjoyable alongside Grainne, listening to her energetic voice explain the layout of everything. As we worked our way along the edge of the orchard, I couldn't help but notice how she always kept my bulk in between her and the Everfree forest. Neither blaming nor commenting on her the reaction, I followed as we wound our way back around the property and up a large grassy hill. Grainne turned a surprisingly saucy grin up at me and trotted on ahead to lead up the hill’s narrow path. Not fit to complain with the new walking order, I fought to stay decent as the braided pendulum of Grainne’s tail swayed counter time to her powerful hips. The prairie grass walling us on either side blew in the wind, seemingly bowing in time to this pioneer beauty.

Stopping at a clearing below the hill’s lone tree, I joined Grainne as she looked back at the entire Smith family spread. “This is the hill we first saw our land from, and my Pa planted this here tree before we did anything else. I come up here to think, mostly.” The softer tone of Grainne’s voice caught my attention.

“It’s a fine piece of land, for sure.” Something about the quiet life of the swaying prairie grass and the picturesque view of the Smith homestead made my voice quieter to match Grainne’s. The mare turned away and made her way over to a well-worn spot at the base of the robust oak tree, beckoning you over. Taking care to settle down neither too close nor too far away from the lying mare, you followed her gaze out towards Ponyville and beyond.

“Sometimes I miss seeing Equestria. Just sitting here watching it all grow and change gets pretty hard while the farm seems ta’ shrink. You must’ve seen some fine things these past few years, travelling like you do.” A questioning glance was thrown my way. I sat back and contemplated her words as I traced the bright train tracks to Cantorlot.

“You've traveled much of what I've seen with your family, and far as that, all the roads are just as hard and dusty as you remember. As for the rest, Equestria holds a lot of beauty in places that are either passed on by or forgotten. Sometimes those places are forgotten for a reason, and sometimes you’ll find places that ain’t beautiful at all. I've found a lot of those places and reasons and what they had to offer, but now that I’m laying here I’m not sure if I’m any better off for it all. I've been travelling for years now, but only recently have I realized that nothing is a beautiful as a family home, or what you’ll find in one.”

I turned my barrel slightly towards Grainne and looked over into her sparkling eyes. Only then did I realize she had been staring at me for a good while, and almost started when she scooted towards me. Grainne moved over just enough to lean on me, and a tension that I didn't know I had melted when the softness of her coat mingled with the relative coarseness of my own. Enjoying how the braids of her mane fit just perfectly under my chin, I leaned down and gave a tentative nuzzle. Rewarded with a contented hum that vibrated both our barrels, I let loose my own contented sigh and watched the setting sun paint the rolling hills of prairie grass crimson.

Comments

[Windchester]

Beautiful.
Simply breath taking as I continue too into this fine art of literature. Which if I
May add fascinates me more and more as i read and reread, Each and every sentenced.
This fine art of literature captures me in suprising ways...
Everytime I reread I notice things that I have never noticed before. Amazing.

Too add on, What I really love most about this stry is imagery.
Its simply beautiful.
Stories that barely even hold a candle too this one; seem too trap me with their amazing imagery and scenery in a tight embrace that is Impossible too escape,

With this story, I actually feel like I'm there, ya know?
I feel the wind, I can taste the pies, I can see the many rows of apple trees and the grassy fields that carpet that strecthes miles as it covers the landscap.

I do believe this story is A "Quintessence"(Meaning, Everything in life has lead too this moment)

Simply Breath takingly beautiful....
Thank you. Thank you so much for this story. No! This masterpiece.

We your fellow fans await more.

Goodluck and happy writing

-Windchester

[Avid_Reader]

4599977
Wow. I sincerely thank you for your kind and encouraging words, good sir.