Snowed Out

by Rune Soldier Dan

Day Three

It was harder for Applejack to open her eyes today. She awoke with every limb half-numb, wrapped desperately around Rarity for the slightest touch of warmth. Stiff soreness gripped her whole body. She grimaced in anticipation, knowing it would only feel worse when she got up.

She had to. It was so cold in here.

Rarity was already awake, and clearly no more comfortable. They traded a wan smile and forced their legs to stand.

The fire had gone out again last night. The thin wood they could cut with a hatchet didn’t last long at all. They should gather more pine branches, try to insulate themselves a little better. But every armful of that was one less of real wood.

They munched cookies and snarfed cold apples for breakfast. Both moved lethargic, quiet, and slow. Rough night, cold morning, and sweet mercy was Applejack hungry. They split and devoured the precious granola bars, giving the closest thing they had to a full meal in two days.

A few jumping jacks and the almost-substantial food cleared the worst of it, though a tired fog remained between Applejack’s ears.

“I miss coffee,” she murmured.

Rarity gave a valiant smile. “And steak.”

They headed out together this time, snapping off low evergreen branches and gathering fallen wood. The decision was made to save fuel, letting them hold off on starting the fire until lunch. But talk of such economy soon drifted to old camp-outs, and then to vacations, family, the girls… for the first time since the crash, they found themselves idly chatting about all and nothing. The rising sun made the world glistening and bright, at last free of clouds. The smells of nature and beauty of smooth layered snow surrounded them, and with anxiety fading with their new routine, Applejack found she could actually enjoy it all.

She wasn’t alone. Rarity stared off now and then as they worked. The snow on the branches, the bright blue sky above. Applejack dusted off a fallen tree to let them sit a spell, taking it in, leaning into each other without a word needed in exchange.

Until inevitably, their stomachs spoke.

Only on the way back did Applejack notice Rarity was blinking rapidly. She chalked it to sun on the snowscape until starting the fire and turning to see Rarity in her orange plastic glasses.

“My contacts were driving me nuts,” Rarity grumbled. “Don’t look at me.”

“You look cute,” Applejack tried.

“I look fifty.”

Applejack worked on the tea while Rarity arranged the new pine branches on their bed, then they both huddled around the fire and took their drinks. Idyllic though the scenery might be, it was still cold inside and out.

The hot drink was as heavenly as before, but Applejack endured more than enjoyed the second cup. “Pine tea is getting a mite old.”

“It’s who you share it with that matters, Darling.”

Applejack let it rest at that for a moment before setting a hand on Rarity’s shoulder. “It sure does. You holding up?”

“Well enough. Don’t you fret over me.”

Rarity repositioned to her knees, giving a hiss and wince as sore muscles made their protest. “But before we go exploring again, I am quite tired of sitting on the ground. Let’s get the seat cushions from your car.”

Applejack tossed the idea in her head – the car was toast, so no harm there. She would honestly rather keep working at the wood situation while it was still bright out, but maybe a concession to comfort would do them well? She still didn’t trust their bed near the fire, so a few cushions for chairs might do wonders.

She scooched closer to the already-dying flames. The stone grated on her sore butt, and chilled her through the pants. That hashed it.

“Good idea, Rares.”

Snow had accumulated in the ‘corner’ of the hill, creating a difficult trudge to their wreck. Wind and elements had dusted the inside in white, making it seem like years had passed instead of days.

Applejack gave it a long, slow stare. A thirty year-old heap she had owned for two, bought for a song in high school and carefully repaired. Lots of memories, now buried in snow.

And glass. She heaved up a shrug and got to work, reminding Rarity to be careful. She’d never actually taken out the seat cushions before, but a brief search showed them to be held in by buttoned straps, long-since rusted tight. Easy enough to saw through with the knife.

Freeing the first cushion revealed three inches of foam covered in ripped, stained leather. In current circumstances, a piece of Heaven.

The work was easy enough. Applejack left Rarity to keep going and clambered up the embankment in search of a better view. The tire tracks were all but gone, buried in snow. Only the flatness and firmness beneath her boots let Applejack know when she reached the road. Her little flag still hung up from yesterday, and the road itself remained white and unplowed. The brief clarity of the morning’s sky had again been replaced by gray overcast, with even darker clouds visible in the distance.

She gazed down the road, wondering how far she could see. A few miles, maybe less? If they started walking tomorrow morning, how far could they get?

We ain’t on the moon. Someone would likely find us by day’s end. A plow, a truck. If nothing else we’re bound to stumble onto a farm, rest stop, or anyplace else with a working phone and people who can help.

An easy answer. Pack the food and throw their fates into the wind.

Her lips tightened.

And what if no one finds us? How far would we get hiking all day on cookies and apples? Can we really get ten, thirty miles to civilization? Night then comes and we got no shelter, no fuel… no.

She turned and began to trudge downhill. Maybe she was too cautious. She could live with that. Applejack didn’t gamble with her own life, and she sure wouldn’t gamble with Rarity’s. They’d get out of this careful, boring, and safe. Like a long camp out, though lordy the food supply could use some love. Maybe pine needles would taste good salted.

Rarity had worked quickly while she was away. Four front and back seat cushions were stacked on the ground, each a heap-ton softer than the shelter’s stone floor or their bed of branches. They hiked back with one under each arm, sticking to their own footprints where the snow grew deep.

Their fire had burned down to embers in the short time they were gone. The pair puttered a moment, knowing they had to keep scavenging while daylight held but seeing nothing wrong with testing their new treasures first. Applejack stacked two cushions and sat down, releasing an instant groan of relief. The man-made seat welcomed her in its padding, and soon warmed as her backside shared heat.

She shot a grin to Rarity, but swallowed it. Rarity’s groan was more haggard – no less relieved, but a bit more desperately so. She tucked up her knees and hugged them, leaning towards the fire. One hand held her hat, revealing a frayed and smudged mess of purple hair. Bagged eyes stared listlessly into the waning flames.

“You still okay?” Applejack ventured.

“I shan’t complain,” Rarity said.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I’m tired and cold and hungry, but so are you.” A snappish edge entered Rarity’s voice. Her eyes focused into a glare that faded at once. “I can do my part. We’re on equal footing, after all.”

“Beg pardon, but we ain’t.”

Rarity’s eyes slid over, and Applejack shrugged. “I’m used to moving, working and such for hours on end. Rain, shine, snow, you name it. It stands to reason I’d hold up better than you.”

“Mmm, and you are so big and strong.” Rarity’s lips turned up and she cast a half-lidded glance over Applejack’s body, though of course with the winter clothes there was nothing to see.

Applejack grinned, sensing her friend’s spirits rise. “Just take a short load off while I make a run. It won’t be like earlier, I promise. Join me for the next if you feel up to it. You’ll do us both a lot more good if you pace yourself than if you work to the bone and get exhausted. Even if your pace is a little different from mine.”

Rarity’s smile remained a tired thing, but she nodded. “You win. I’ll be right as rain by the time you get back.”

Applejack doubted that. Their accommodations and diet were enough of a shock to her own system. Skinny, prissy Rarity had to have it twice as bad, although she was taking it like a trooper.

“Keep her warm,” Applejack mouthed to herself, stepping once more from the shelter. A thought hit her, and she nodded. “And yourself, too. We won’t steer wrong so long as we’re watching out for each other.”

Applejack was still fresh as could be, all told. The pine tea and almost-normal breakfast still sat warm within her, and the cobwebs of the cold night were all shaken free. She gazed around, admiring the tall trees and pondering which ones might have the lowest branches for her.

…Still a mystery, this little shack and its flat surroundings. Really, it was the latter that was strangest for her. Did someone really clear-cut thick timber to make this bitty patch of space?

Her practiced eye began taking in the clearing. Maybe one full acre… no, not even that. But it was vaguely square, far too neat to be natural.

She traced to the corner, and stopped. A tree was there, but too small, straight, and bare to be a tree after all. Applejack approached, drawn by curiosity. She stumbled over something hard in the ground, though kept balance and walked on.

Not a tree. A wide, cut post, round like a telephone pole. Maybe four feet tall, and over a foot thick. Narrow holes in its sides told easily enough it was the corner-post of a fence now gone. Applejack grabbed it and tried to draw back, but it was buried deep. Another foot, maybe two beneath the earth… six feet of solid wood…

Applejack moved on, making a long pace along the clearing. Giddy excitement tapped in her heart, though disappointment won initially when she found no post in the second corner. But the third had one, and the fourth.

She had to remind herself to walk slow and careful back to the shelter. No silly running around, not with their lives at stake. No matter how good the day had just turned.

Rarity looked up quizzically at her prompt return. Applejack grinned, bashful yet broad.

“Rares?”

“Hm?”

Maybe the timing could have been better, but Applejack really didn’t want to wait. “Sorry to interrupt, but I could use your help. Won’t be much, I promise.”

“Anything you need.” Rarity stood without protest and followed her out the door. She too tripped on the way to the first post, but Applejack was there to catch her.

Rarity glanced back as they walked on. “What was that?”

Applejack shrugged, her eyes on the prize. “I dunno, a rock? But check out this beauty, right here!”

She placed a hand on the post and spun around it like a pole-dancer to smile widely back towards Rarity.

Rarity looked to the bare wooden prize, then to Applejack.

One purple eyebrow raised, and amusement tugged the white lips upwards.

“Help me out, Darling. Why is this fun?”

Applejack patted the post, speaking quickly. “Because this right here is the answer to our prayers. Part of the reason we have such trouble keeping the fire going is because we can’t get anything really thick onto it. Thick wood lasts longer and burns hotter, just a better fire all around. Now, I could spend all day at a tree with this dinky hatchet and it wouldn’t come down. But what we can do is excavate Mister Log here and his two friends, and so long as we back it with a little tinder and kindling they are going to keep us burning for days.”

Rarity yawned quietly through her nose. “How are we going to chop them into logs?”

“No need,” Applejack said. “We move the fire closer to the door and have this laid down running outside. The fire will sit at the end of it, and as it burns down we just push it in.”

Realization sparked in Rarity’s tired eyes. “Ah-ha! I see, yes that is lovely. We’ll have to put it at an angle going in so the fire isn’t burning right against our walls.”

“Yeah.” Applejack beckoned her over. “Let me do the grunt work on this one. Just hold it steady while I dig it out, then we can carry it back together.”

Chopping into the frozen ground with a hatchet wasn’t easy, and Applejack’s body didn’t much like bending over for it. But the work went fast: chunk after chunk of dirt was thrown free until the post stood loose in Rarity’s grasp. It was light enough to carry between two people, as were the next two which they laid outside.

Using most of their remaining small wood, Applejack built and lit a new fire at the head of the first post, now prone and laying halfway through the door. The wood was cold, but old and dry. It would catch and burn hot, long, and slow.

Applejack left Rarity with it to head out again. The fire still needed kindling, smaller branches.

Somehow, the work was easier. Applejack fell into routine, a comfortable flow as the afternoon wore on. No longer frantically racing to keep ahead of the cold, she took her time, selecting promising branches and harvesting several pine cones and cuts of the inner bark. Odds were long of them tasting good, but even she was a bit tired of apples.

Rarity, bless her, was raring to go by the second load. Applejack took a breather, and easily traded on and off with her until the shadows grew long, then disappeared into an early dark.

Inside, though, it was bright. The post burned merrily, not even a quarter lost across all afternoon. The long fire had warmed their little abode quite nicely, and though it was doubtless still cold by normal standards, the girls stripped from their jackets and marveled at how toasty it all felt. They briskly changed underwear, buttoned back on their smoke-smelling clothes, and set-to making dinner.

Pine cones and bark, predictably, tasted like wood. They were regardless the highlights of the meal – apples, cookies, and chips were getting old. And each was more than half-gone by dinner’s end, leading to both girls guiltily cutting back. Their stomachs loudly protested, and at Applejack’s suggestion they ate a little more. Help was bound to come tomorrow.

Or tonight? A quick check of the phones dashed their hopes.

“The blizzard must have taken out a cell tower,” Rarity sighed.

But at least right now, it wasn’t so bad. The lackluster meal filled their bellies, warming them from the inside as the fire warmed them from without. They lounged on their bed, no longer feeling the need to huddle close to the flames. The looted seats pillowed their heads and hips, and the rest was comfortable enough. Snowy and cold outside, warm and dry in here.

Rarity laid sideways, little-spooning into Applejack as they watched the fire in drowsy contentment. That all wasn’t too strange for them – the Rainbooms were casual in their affection with each other, hugging, cuddling, and sharing beds whenever impulse bid. Rarity’s feet tucked back, warming themselves against Applejack’s shins. Her designer stockings couldn’t be holding up as well as Applejack’s wool socks. They were like petite little ice cubes, but that was fine. Applejack had warmth to give.

…Of course, all those cuddles and bed-sharing came with the sleepovers, always with other girls around.

Applejack’s arm rested on Rarity’s side, half-hugging her in to help warm them both. She could not help but smell the purple hair – fire smoke, and human sweat. Not foul odors to Applejack at all.

A sudden flutter struck her heart. Dainty, pretty Rarity.

She felt her old crush on the girl come roaring back. To kiss the hair, nibble the neck…

Her breath hitched. Then normalized at once.

Unseen, Applejack smiled. Thaaaaat’s enough, Miss Apple.

On again, off again, she had debated asking Rarity out for years. Sunset had once confided Rarity had pondered the same, but that was in the lead up to the Friendship Games and both of them had gotten busy from there.

Life was short. If they hit that tree any harder it would have been real short. Once this was over, Applejack promised herself to finally make the first move.

Not now. Don’t risk drama at a time when they had to stay focused. Just enjoy the fire, the warmth, the comfort.

The change came easy. Soon her eyes drifted closed, her nose filled with the wholesome smell of the fire. Smoke wafted out of the top slits, and everything that could be lit by errant sparks was a safe distance away.

Her belly growled already. No help for it, and it wasn’t enough to keep her awake.

Comments

[ShadowLDrago]

This is weirdly cozy. Like, they're in fairly constant low level peril due to the cold, but, they're being smart, they're communicating when they have to, and generally making sensible choices. You get the feeling neither of them is terribly thrilled about the situation, Rarity in particular is likely mentally grumbling about getting her hands dirty, but she's also smart enough that letting Applejack overwork herself is going to end badly and is pushing through it. You dun good.

[The Voice in the Water]

Glad they found those posts. I wonder how long it's going to be before the girls send out a search party, considering that they were supposed to be going to meet up with them, and never showed.

[Night-Quill]

Aww, it happened.