Snowed Out

by Rune Soldier Dan

Day Four

Cushioned and cozy and holding something very warm, Applejack awoke in slow comfort. The room was cool, but not freezing, the fire having burned down to coals over the long night. Leftover heat remained in Rarity’s body, still spooned into Applejack’s chest.

She held the girl close, her larger build engulfing and warming Rarity’s back. Their myriad cushions and insulation contested nicely with the chill, giving her the pleasant sensation of remaining cozily beneath the covers on a cold winter day. Applejack closed her eyes, and found it easy to pretend this was just a wintertime camp-out.

Until her belly growled, deep and far louder than it ever had before. Or maybe it just felt that way, knowing the hodgepodge of foraged food and snacks only stalled the hunger, never satisfied it.

The sound and vibration roused Rarity, though she too woke slowly. She shuffled in Applejack’s arms, giving a deep, un-Rarity-like yawn and smacked her lips.

“Good morning, Babe,” Applejack drawled.

Rarity tucked her arms beneath Applejack’s, stealing a bit more warmth. “Good morning, Hot Stuff.”

‘Hot Stuff,’ was hilarious coming from Rarity’s mouth. Applejack rocked her with a snort-laugh, and Rarity released a giggle. “I don’t let every woman bed me three nights in a row, but you are such a charmer. What do you have planned for breakfast?”

Applejack hummed in thought, snuggling closer still. “Your choice: there’s a place down the street that does real good espresso and avocado toast, and another around the block that makes flapjacks and bacon strips thicker than your thumb.”

“Mm, to be honest, that last one sounds divine.” Rarity pushed back into Applejack’s embrace. “I’ll treat you to dinner when this is all over. We’ll find someplace nice.”

Applejack didn’t know whether that was a date or not, and right now she didn’t much care. Snug and cuddled with Rarity, it was easy enough to simply agree and drift in the moment.

She felt Rarity sigh quietly. “We should get up, shouldn’t we?”

“And do what?” Applejack asked.

Rarity hesitated. “Gather wood?”

“We don’t need as much now with the posts,” Applejack said, clasping her hands to lock Rarity in place. “And we ain’t got no clocks here. An extra ten minutes won’t hurt. This is the best I’ve felt since… you know.”

Rarity snuggled in, giving not a word of protest. Ten minutes became twenty as the world brightened around them. But no more – the shelter was growing chillier with the fire out, and their stomachs beat their insides for food.

Apples silenced the noise. Only a few left. Plus a bag and a half of chips and cookies.

But this was the fourth day! Applejack hoisted the ax. “Cook us some tea, if you don’t mind. I’m gonna scope out the road, maybe grab some wood on the way.”

Stepping outside reminded Applejack that it was still winter. Thin dots of snow fell from the sky, though with the heavy overcast she couldn’t tell if it would get better or worse. A brisk hike showed the car was not much more buried than before, though without the seats it truly looked desolate. She turned her phone on long enough to check for a signal, and released a quiet curse.

Past the wreck, however, a change snatched her attention. The snow cresting the hill was not smooth, but clumped and scattered, raised well above the even layers coating the rest of the woods.

It took only a second’s thought for Applejack to realize what happened, and that it was both good and bad news. She pushed through the disordered snow to the top of the hill.

Her boots clapped when they hit the road, finding black pavement. The plows had come, shoving the endless white off to each side.

And there was her flag, upturned and buried in the snow.

“God-damn it.”

This time the curse came loud and bitter. “The hell!? They just went and drove on by, the rat bastards. Didn’t even get fucking curious!”

She swallowed the rage, let it fade. Maybe the plows came in the early hours, or otherwise just didn’t see. A handkerchief-sized flag while it was still dark… no, this was Applejack’s fault.

She hustled back to the car, running with her next idea. Using the hatchet, she unceremoniously shred the worn blue carpeting and snatched those, the mats, and every other loose thing she could carry. Everything was dumped near the road, and then her flag went back up from a small pyramid of trash.

Frustration morphed to hope. The roads were clear. Any day, now… heck, any hour.

Satisfied, Applejack turned to trudge back, getting halfway down the slope before something else stopped her in her tracks.

Motion was the first thing her tired eyes saw. Brown with a splash of blue. So alien she startled and froze, and so did the stranger.

A turkey. A wild turkey, feathers puffed and black eyes taking her in.

Applejack stood very, very still. Her hand tightened on the ax. Her mind raced.

Her stomach growled.

Initially, safe and careful Applejack took a step back. Nope. She might have eggs or little ones. You’ll live, you don’t need to kill, so don’t do it.

The next thoughts came, however. Of course the bird didn’t have eggs or chicks in the middle of winter. And Applejack was a farmer. They didn’t raise any animals but chickens, but years turned and times came. She’d done it all before – plucking, skinning, carving, and cooking.

Chickens usually gave two or three pounds of meat once all was done. How much would a turkey? A soup or a roast, sizzling fat, hot meat…

She kept her posture loose and nonthreatening. No eye contact, no sudden moves as she slowly raised the hatchet.

“I sure hope Fluttershy never finds out about this.”

---

Conscientious that a bear smelling the blood could make things awfully ironic, Applejack chopped the head and drained the body before taking another step forwards. She gripped the turkey easily by its legs, wondering how Rarity will react. She reckoned the frou-frou girl might gasp or even faint, running to sequester herself away until the nasty part was done.

She found her friend oddly wandering outside, shuffling around their little clearing getting her boots wet. Rarity looked curiously at Applejack’s burden, squinting through her glasses as she drew near while holding curiosities of her own – the first chip bag they had emptied, and the unsheathed pocket knife.

And when she saw the turkey, Rarity gave it such a look of unbridled, lip-licking, half-lidded desire that Applejack could only wish the girl would one day turn it on her.

“Such a lucky day,” Rarity breathed. She folded down the knife and fished in her bag. “Lucky for both of us. Behold!”

She produced and presented her own minor miracle: two bulbs of wild garlic, a carrot, and a potato. Of course the potato was the size of a garlic, the garlic was the size of golf balls, and the carrot was more white than orange. But they were vegetables all the same, and Applejack gave a stare of her own.

Rarity explained with faux arrogance and well-earned pride, one hand haughtily to the side of her lips. “Not luck at all, actually, but my own observation. When I tripped yesterday, it didn’t feel like a rock. Today I retraced my footsteps and found it was an old vine that caught me. A bit of digging and searching from there found me these. Darling, I think this was where someone tried to set up a farming patch. Maybe a side project from one of the big farms we passed on the way here? And the shed is for a horse or tractor or some-such. It looks like a few lucky seeds got left behind when everything was abandoned.”

Applejack could only nod and shrug. Rarity wanted answers – Applejack wanted to eat. They walked to the shelter, both giggling like idiots yet conscientious of carrying sharp objects.

Once inside, through, they slammed into each others’ arms. Applejack picked up Rarity and gave her a twirl, sending the smaller girl into excited hysterics. Turkey, turkey! And vegetables. Damn the plow, they had turkey and vegetables!

The hours passed in a pleasant blur. Rarity went out for more wood while Applejack plucked, skinned, and carved as best as she could with the knife. Truth be told she made a mess out of things, but it went well as could ever be expected. The first bowl of hot water rinsed the blades, then the veggies got peeled, washed, and sliced.

A short chat settled them on soup – smaller pieces of meat meant less heat needed to cook it though, and the metal bowl was already starting to look abused. Applejack cut half the meat into bite-sized chunks, let them boil a bit first, then added the diced veggies and a few salt and pepper packets for good measure. The other half she buried in the snow outside. Fat and bones went in to add what flavor and nutrition they could, and Applejack had the foresight to reserve a hot mug first to wash off her hands. The process had gone slowly with inexperience and inadequate tools, but somehow that made it better. A building, happy anticipation, like the Christmas season.

Rarity had not been idle, foraging wood and pine in the meantime. When the shadows grew long, Applejack bid her stay inside. They had enough wood, no reason to push themselves for one more load with the snow coming down more heavily.

Applejack fished a turkey piece out and slit it open. No red juices or uncooked muscle.

Seated on their cushions and leaning into each other, they dipped in their mugs and took the first sips. Hot and oily and salty, with fresh turkey and carrots tasty and nostalgic on their tongues. They used little plastic spoons to pick what they couldn’t slurp out, then they poured out seconds into the emptied mugs and kept at it. The hunger pangs faded, leaving Applejack with a lazy sense of fullness and contentment.

It was so, so good. Perhaps last week she would have found it bland and lumpy. Not today. She chewed her last soft bite of potato with relish.

Rarity carefully removed the soup bones to a plastic bag, then filled the bowl with new snow and set it down to boil.

“You thirsty?” Applejack asked.

Rarity smiled and said nothing, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Applejack watched her work with drowsy curiosity, giving a smile of her own when Rarity took their mugs and filled each with hot water.

Then, with an aristocratic flourish, Rarity plopped down and slid two foil packages from her coat and dangled them before Applejack’s eyes.

Each was stamped with the same words. Hot chocolate.

Something shook loose in Applejack’s heart. This day full of unexpected good fortune had gotten even better. Her throat felt full, and some part of her really wanted to cry.

“How?” she breathed.

Rarity drew them back, exposing her smirking lips. “I found them under your cushions. What is a full course meal without dessert, after a–”

Applejack moved, leaning in and kissing those lips. Her arms went around Rarity. It wasn’t a conscious choice. A cold line ran down from her eye.

The mind caught up, and Applejack at once moved to draw back. “Sorry! I just... I, uh...”

A dainty hand touched her cheek, interrupting. Soft white lips ascended, meeting her own. They lingered only for two seconds, long enough to make their point, before parting with a quiet kiss.

Bright blue eyes gazed into Applejack’s.

“I was wondering when you’d do that, Darling.”

Applejack glanced away, still somehow guilty. “Sorry. I… I got too happy, you know? One thing too many. I lost it for a second. I shouldn’t have ambushed you like that.”

Rarity tittered in her throat. “It was hardly an ambush. My only regret was how fast it ended.”

Applejack blinked. Two seconds later she connected the dots, wrapped her arms fully around Rarity, and pulled her in. Closed lips, nothing too passionate. Tender, long. They pulled away, though her arms remained in place.

Rarity turned in her cushion to face the fire, leaning sideways into Applejack’s chest.

“Please don’t think me a tease,” she murmured. “That’s as far as I’ll go. For now. I’m such a smelly mess. I don’t even want to see what my hair looks like.”

“I think you look great,” Applejack said, grinning wide as she could.

Rarity glanced sidelong to her. The smile faded, and Applejack gave a nod. “But that all is real important for you. I understand.”

“We’ve known each other since we were six,” Rarity said. “I certainly hope you understand by now.”

Applejack’s smile returned with a twist. She heaved Rarity over to sit on her lap. “Snuggling still okay?”

“Of course, Darling, it’s cold. But let me pour the chocolate first.”

Applejack’s best guess was those packets were nearly two years old. Stale, store-bought, and cheap, and the most delicious hot chocolate she ever had. They sipped and chatted then retired to the bed, but this time it was a little different. They did not simply collapse and hug desperately against the cold, but chatted some more while lazily entwined.

Rarity’s fingernails brushed Applejack’s sides in a brief tickle, and she claimed it an accident. The girl was a tease, whatever she might claim. Applejack got her own back once or twice, but most of their time was still and calm. They turned from the embrace into their now-traditional spoon, drifting off slowly as they watched the fire, and the gentle snowfall in its glow.

Comments

[ShadowLDrago]

Despite the situation, this is surprisingly cozy. Also, Applejack being willing and able to kill, decapitate and then prepare a turkey doesn't shock me. I'm not big on turkey, but in these circumstances, I would lack the luxury of pickiness.

[Night-Quill]

Gobbles! NOOOOOOOooooo...!!! ... Well at least he died for a good cause.

[The Voice in the Water]

The naturalist in me could nitpick some of the things in the chapter, but I won't because ultimately they serve the purpose of the story.

Also, awww. Victorious childhood friends romance.