On the first night of Zap Apple season, a fire breaks out in Sweet Apple Acres. Bright Mac and Pear Butter rush out to fight it, but they become trapped by timber wolves. They would have lost their lives that night if it weren’t for an unusual ally.
There are many peaceful places in Equestria, and Sweet Apple Acres would likely be described as one of the most peaceful ones. But it is a fact of life that no safety is guaranteed. And the Acres were no exception to that rule.
On the first night of Zap Apple season, a fire broke out in the orchard, forcing Applejack’s parents, Bright Mac and Pear Butter, to rush out to combat it to save the farm. On any other night, this would have been the end to the danger for them. But as it stood, the timber wolves found them, and had them trapped. They would have died that night…
“Ya’ know Winona, ah know I haven’t exactly seen everythin’ the world has to offer in mah life… but ah have a feelin’ this is goin’ to be the weirdest thing ah’ll ever see.” Applejack said in bamboozlement to the puppy in her hooves.
*Crank-Clank-angle-Clank!* “THE TIMBER WOLVES’RE A-HOWLIN’!!!”Cried Granny Smith while she ran with various pots and pans crashing about on her sides. *Crank-Clank-angle-Clank!* “THE TIMBER WOLVES’RE A-HOWLIN’!!!”
*Jingle-Tink-Tangle-Jingle!* “THE ZAP APPLES ARE COMIN’!” *Jingle-Tink-Tangle-Jingle!* “THE ZAP APPLES ARE COMIN’!” And Applejack’s mother, Buttercup, was doing almost exactly the same thing as the Apple matriarch with her own collection of metal cookery, possibly with a few wind chimes thrown into the mix as well.
A larger yellow hoof tousled the top of Applejack’s mane with a chuckle. “Now ah wouldn’t be goin’ and sayin’ that quite yet AJ. There’s plenty more time left in zap apple season to make you rethink that statement.” Bright Mac told his daughter mirthfully.
Applejack looked up at him. “It gets weirder?” She asked with an arched brow.
“The things that have to be done for the season might seem odd at first, but believe me when ah tell you that everything serves a purpose. And the best part is that yer granny is the one that figured all them reasons out through trial and error over the years. Though,” Bright Mac gave another chuckle. “she’d prolly talk yer ear off with the stories of her discoverin’ those reasons.”
“AH KIN’ STILL HEAR YOU EVEN OVER ALL THE CANTANKERIN’ WE’RE MAKIN’ BRIGHT MAC! MAYBE YE’ SHOULD ACT LIKE THE STALLION OF THE FAMILY AND COME OUT AN HELP KEEP THE FRENZIED TIMBER WOLVES AWAY FROM MAULIN’ THE LOT OF US INSTEAD OF TALKIN’ SMACK ABOUT YER AGING MA!!” Granny hollered out at Bright Mac.
Bright Mac winced from Granny’s snipe, and Applejack giggled at the face he made. “Well, I guess you heard the mare AJ, so jus’ wait here with yer siblings and watch.” He told her and gestured with his head at her older brother Macintosh sitting in Granny’s rocking chair, cradling their little sister Applebloom. Bright Mac started heading into the house to get his own set of pans when Winona started squirming in Applejack’s grip, yipping out into the direction of the orchard even as the timber wolves’ howls continued.
“BRIGHT MAC!” Buttercup called out to him in alarm. He quickly turned around to see what was wrong. “FIRE!” She cried up to the homestead, pointing with a hoof in the direction of rising smoke in a distant section of the orchard. She dropped the metal across her back to run up towards him and the children.
“Macintosh, get your sisters inside!” Bright Mac told his son. The red colt nodded and herded AJ into the house while carrying Applebloom inside on his back. Bright Mac followed them inside with Buttercup hot on his heels.
“We need soaked blankets! And buckets of water!” Buttercup exclaimed upon entering the house with her husband.
“Oh no ye’ don’t! Them timber wolves out there are extra ornery out there tonight on account-a zap apple season. Ye’ can’t go out there right now!” Granny Smith interjected, trailing inside last.
“Granny, we need tah do something! The whole orchard could burn down with how dry the weather scheduling’s been this summer!” Buttercup protested.
“She’s right ma’, we can’t afford tah do nothin’.” Bright Mac agreed with his wife.
Granny Smith looked ready to protest, but screwed up her face in frustrated indecision. She let out an equine chuff of frustration before looking between the two of them. “Yer gonna’ need more than just buckets and blankets. Ah’ll go run to town to get the weather pegasi with some rainclouds. In the mean time, you two work on containin’ the fire, not puttin’ it out, ye’ hear? The less time ye’ spend out in the open fer the wolves te’ catch yer scent, the better. Ah’d rather lose a few more extra trees than lose family.” Granny tells them strictly.
“You sure you can get to town ma’?” Bright Mac asked his mother.
“Ah’m not too old to go fer a good run and talk teh’ some ponies in town ye’ big smart-aleck. Now go git them blankets and start soakin’ them! Hurry up!” Granny snapped at him, already galloping out the front door of the house again. “And the both of you be careful!” She added over her shoulder as she headed into Ponyville to get help with the fire.
Bright Mac took a second to watch his mother disappear into the darkness of the night outside before he turned to go get the blankets that would be needed for fighting the fire. Buttercup stayed behind to speak with their children. “Macintosh, keep your sisters safe and inside the house. We’ll be back as soon as we can, and Granny Smith should be back even sooner. Listen to her when she does.” She told the red colt while grabbing a rope and slinging it over her side.
Macintosh nodded in understanding right as Bright Mac returned with a full bucket of water in his teeth and several soaked blankets draped across his back, dripping onto the floorboards. “Ready?” He asked Buttercup through the metal handle.
She nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.” She said. And the paired farmers bolted out the front of the house and into the dark to fight the force of nature that threatened their livelihood.
Pear “Buttercup” Butter wordlessly galloped between the trees of the apple orchard with her husband. Despite the night’s darkness shrouding her path from her vision, she pressed on at full speed between the wooden boughs, having lived on the land long enough to be familiar with the crests and dips in the earth beneath her hooves even without needing to see them. Bright Mac managed to keep pace with her even despite the weight of the blankets and bucket, a testament to his own physical strength. She took a moment to look up to find the smoke in the distance again.
By the placement of the smoke that she could see wafting up into the night sky, it looked like the fire was in one of the older and farther sections of the orchard. If they ran out of water and the blanket dried out, it would take a while to get back to the house to get more water to continue the fight against the blaze. Time that might allow it to grow bigger than it was in their first attempt to fight it, so they’ll have to make every drop of moisture they’ve got count. Granny Smith’s idea to contain the fire instead was probably the wiser option in this situation now that Pear Butter thought about it.
Although, considering the timber wolves’ howls were getting louder from the two ponies closing the distance between them, Pear Butter was starting to understand that there really wasn’t much to consider wise about running to fight an orchard fire during zap apple season.
Nothing for it though, they can’t let the orchard burn down! Their family depended upon these trees, and so they’ll protect them no matter what.
The two earth ponies ground to a halt when they encountered the first of the fire earlier than they expected. “What in the world?” Bright Mac exclaimed.
It was surprisingly underwhelming. Only a few small flickers of flame danced upon the ground as it burned on the tips of grasses that had managed to grow between the apple trees. Other than that, there was only smoldering cinders that stained the ground black. Some small coals glowed orange among the soot, but from what the two of them could see, the trees themselves were unharmed.
“So… do ya think Granny wants us to splash the trees around this to contain it, or just leave it be since it don’t look like it’ll spread?” Bright Mac wondered aloud.
Buttercup bumped his side with her hip in admonishment, but couldn’t help smirking at his joke. “Nah, ah’m pretty sure we can just put this all out. Don’t worry about usin’ the water for this though. Just kick some dirt over it an’ stamp it out. We need to move on past this.” She instructed Bright Mac, moving to do exactly that to the pitiful fire.
It didn’t take them long to extinguish the lingering remnants of the blaze, but… why was it so small in the first place? “What exactly happened here?” Buttercup asked aloud.
“Ah don’t know… but there’s still some more burnin’ elsewhere. Let’s go.” Bright Mac answered.
The two of them proceeded through the orchard. There were three more lingering cinders in the same state as the first that they put out, but they couldn’t find any hints to what caused them. Or at the very least, none that were visible to their pony eyes in the darkness of night.
However, the two earth ponies didn’t come out into the orchard to fight small fires.
“Ah think we’re comin’ up on what’s causin’ all the smoke.” Buttercup told Bright Mac, who nodded in acknowledgement. There was an orange glow just ahead of them that indicated a larger blaze than what they’d been putting out for the past few minutes.
It didn’t take them long to emerge from the orchard proper. And what they found was a tree that was fully engulfed in flame.
The sight of the burning apple tree saddened Buttercup, but at the same time relieved her. The tree may have been burning, but it stood alone and away from the other trees that they had emerged from, so there was very little danger of the fire spreading.
The tree was a part of the Old Orchard, a part of Sweet Apple Acres that had been there since Granny Smith’s family first settled there and planted their namesakes. But as it stood presently, it only consisted of only a hoof-full of old trees that no longer bore any fruit, and several stumps scattered between them.
Even thought they were trees, they were still a loved part of the farm, so neither Granny, nor any others of the Apple family could bring themselves to cut any of them down when they stopped being useful. They were allowed to live until nature deemed it was their time to pass on, just like any other creature. A time that it seemed had come for yet another giant of the orchard, with flames that greedily consumed its branches.
“Not really much needed to contain it, is there?” Buttercup asked Bright Mac.
The yellow stallion squinted up at the blaze for a moment before responding. “Ah reckon it could still cause a bigger fire if the wind blows in the wrong direction. We’re gonna have to put it out.” He told her.
Buttercup looked up at the tree, and then nodded. She then unslung the rope she’d grabbed from off her back and swung it up at one of the lower hanging branches and gave a sharp tug.
The already-frail and elderly tree branch was made brittle from the flames consuming all of its moisture, and so it snapped off easily with a spray of sparks and landed a little in front of the two earth ponies. Bright Mac immediately dropped the soaked blanket on top of the burning branch and put the flame out. All that was left when he lifted up the blanket was a small stretch of charcoal. With a single nod, Buttercup swung the rope back up into the boughs of the burning tree once again to bring another one down.
They repeated this process several times, until there were only a few flickering orange veins glowing from within the blackened trunk of the tree itself. The rest had been extinguished.
Buttercup wiped her brow with a hoof before coiling the rope back up. “Good job Mac, ah reckon that should be enough to contain it till the weather pegasi get here with the rain.” She said. She frowned at the heavily singed end of the rope when she reached it. She’s going to need a new one.
Bright Mac placed the unused bucket of water on the ground and wiped his brow with a hoof. He took a moment before answering Buttercup. “I suppose…” He slowly answered.
She gave a questioning look. “What is it?”
“… Somethin’ don’t feel right.” He said, looking up at the less-furiously burning tree.
Buttercup blinked in surprise and looked at the tree as well. She supposed it was strange that this fire started so suddenly. Not to mention that they still had no clue what started it in the first place. But the glowing veins under the blackened bark provided no more answers than the black smudges they encountered on the way. It just kept on burning through the quiet of the night.
… through the quiet of the night?
“What happened to the howling?” She asked Bright Mac suddenly.
A low growl was the only warning she got before Bright Mac shoved her to the side and bucked in the direction her back was facing. His hooves slammed through the throat of a leaping timber wolf and shattered it to splinters.
Buttercup had only a moment to stand still in shock before she saw another wolf leap at her husband. She whipped the rope off her back for the second time that night, and sent it sailing to loop around the timber wolf’s widened maw. She pulled it taught, slamming its jaw shut, and sent the weed-laden canine careening into the burning trunk of the tree behind her, shattering it in a shower of sparks and matchsticks.
“We need to get out of here!” She exclaimed to Mac. Both wolves were quickly re-forming, the burning tree wasn’t a big enough threat to the wolves now that they’d beaten the conflagration down.
“That… might be a tad difficult.” He answered, backing up to stand flank-to-flank with her, his eyes darting to look around the both of them.
Buttercup looked around as well, and her heart skipped a beat. Three more timber wolves had encircled them and the burning tree, each of them were in perfect positions to intercept them if they ran in any direction.
The two formerly broken wolves finally put themselves back together again while the two earth ponies were frozen with indecision. The two wolves snarled at them, but Bright Mac managed to make them back off with a couple of powerful bucks to the air. Still though, they only backed up far enough to match the distance of their other three pack-mates, bringing the number of wolves surrounding Bright Mac and Pear Butter up to five.
They were trapped. And with a sinking heart Buttercup realized that wasn’t going to change.
Granny Smith was stubborn. A stubborn mare, a stubborn earth pony, and most importantly a stubborn Apple. Those three facts alone should tell just how much stubborn was truly packed into the small package known as her body, as each of the three can be considered the stubbornest in each of their own categories.
Despite that though, not even she can lie to herself about getting old in age. Not now that she can feel every decade of life she’s lived throbbing through her leg joints from galloping into town.
She still made it to town of course, because, as has been covered, she’s a stubborn earth pony Apple mare; but it took twice as long to reach it as she expected to.
When she reached Ponyville, she banged on the door of the current weather manager, a stallion by the name of Wind Tunnel that was also getting along in years like her, and asked him to get a team together to help fight the fire in the orchard. He immediately agreed upon hearing of the emergency, and got his ponies together to fly off towards the orchard with several rainclouds in tow.
Granny, however, was then left with the extra painful task of making the same trek that she’d just made in reverse. Since her legs were already suffering from the first gallop, this next one was especially painful to do.
Again, she still did it, because, again, stubborn.
But damned to Tartarus did her legs feel like they were burning when she finally reached the entrance to Sweet Apple Acres!
Granny Smith was not winded from her run, but her legs were definitely hurting, and so she decided to take a moment to stop and rest, leaning against the fence with a foreleg next to the sign arch. As she rested though, she twitched her ears in an attempt to listen for something that should be there. What had happened to the timber wolves’ howls?
“Mrs. Granny Smith? We’ve taken care of the fire.”
Granny looked up to see a weather pegasus mare hovering above her. “Oh, ye’ have? Thank goodness.” She said with a sigh of relief. Then, she looked back up at the hovering mare. “Did ye’ happen te’ see my son and daughter-in-law while you were out there?” She followed up.
The pegasus shook her head. “No, it was just a half-burning tree with a few extra smoldering patches of grass. There wasn’t anypony else that we could see on the ground.”
“Did any of ye land to look around?” Granny asked.
The mare nervously scratched the back of her head with a hoof. “Well, no, uh-.”
“Good,” Granny interrupted her with a firm nod. “we don’ need any more ponies riskin’ themselves out in the orchards while the wolves are still out. If ye didn’t see them, then that’s fine. Ah’ll check the house te’ see if’n they got back on their own. But if they haven’t…” Granny Smith visibly cringed at the words she was about to say. “Then they’ll have te… fend fer themselves till mornin’. It’ll be too dangerous to look around till then.” She choked out.
The pegasus mare openly gaped at what Granny Smith had just told her, and believe her, the thought of abandoning her family to the wolves made her sick. But the years of experience Granny had accumulated with dealing with them made her acutely aware just how dangerous the wooden lupines could be with the cover of darkness on their side. And sending other ponies into the orchard to try to help Bright Mac and Pear Butter would only add to the number of ponies that might not come back out. The two Apples had youth, strength, and teamwork on their side, as well as a fraction of Granny’s own experience with the timber wolves to draw upon. If anypony stood the best chance of surviving a night among the apple trees with the wolves roaming, it was those two. Nopony else though.
Granny Smith thanked the pegasus mare again, and made her way back up to the homestead, apprehension building in her stomach at who she’d find or, Celestia forbid, who she wouldn’t find waiting for her there.
Oh, please Celestia let her find them inside waiting for her!
Granny Smith swung open the front door and stepped inside. “Bright Mac? Butter! Ya here?” she hollered inside.
A pregnant pause.
“Yeah, we’re here Granny! In the kitchen!” Pear Butter called back from the kitchen. Granny Smith let out a sigh of immense relief. They were safe.
“Bright Mac, did’ja find the first-aid kit yet?” Pear Butter followed up with a question directed somewhere else in the house.
“Got it here! Comin’!” Bright Mac said through the handle of said first-aid kit, trotting past Granny from the stairwell into the kitchen.
Granny took a moment to process what she’d heard before she followed her son into the kitchen. If Pear Butter was hurt, then Granny would do her best to help. She may have had reservations about the orange-maned mare in the past due to her heritage as a Pear, but the Apple matriarch had long since accepted her fully as family since then. And family means helping each other when they’re hurt.
“How bad isit’? How ken ah help?” Granny asked, determinedly following her son into the kitchen.
“Huh?” Pear Butter looked up from beside the table. “Oh, wait, Granny no I’m not the one that-!”
“Why is there a big black lizerd on the kitchen table?” Granny Smith asked blankly after halting in the entrance to the room. Said lizard was lying on its side while passed out. Pear Butter took the first-aid kit from Bright Mac and started working on the bleeding flank of the lizard while Bright Mac turned to look at Granny.
“Um… Ah’m pretty sure he’s a dragon ma’, not a lizard.” Bright Mac corrected her. Granny craned her head to look at her son, silently telling him that his input didn’t help her. “… and he’s also prolly the one that started the fire.” He finished nervously.
Granny Smith’s eye twitched. “Alright, so that didn’t rightly anser’ mah question in any way that I needed, so ah’ll rephrase it. Why is there a big black dragyn’ that probably started the fire in the orchard, doin’ inside of our home, where our kin are sleepin’?!” She asked with calm incredulity.
“Cause he also saved our lives.” Pear Butter answered firmly, glancing up to meet Granny Smith’s glare for only a moment before returning to working on wrapping the dragon’s flank in gauze.
Granny was silent for a moment before she silently trotted past them towards the sink. She put her front hooves on the counter and reached up to the top cabinet and pulled out a bottle of hard apple cider. “Yer gonna need ta’ disinfect that. Timber wolves’re nothin’ but rottin’ wood, and rot gives the worst infections.” Granny told Pear Butter, bringing the bottle over to the table.
Pear Butter blinked once before she nodded in understanding. She started unwrapping the gauze she’d wrapped. “Thank you Granny.” She thanked.
“If’n you wan’te thank me, start tellin’ me the whole story of what happn’d out there.” Granny told her through her teeth as she yanked the cork off the cider bottle. She then hoofed it over to Pear.
Pear Butter took the bottle and started drizzling the alcoholic drink into the bloody wound. “Alright, so we had found a few fires that were easy to stomp out without needin’ the blanket or bucket, but then we found the large fire,” She started explaining.
Bright Mac took a step closer to watch them treat the dragon. “It was jus’ another tree from the old orchard, nothin’ else was burnin’. We got it put out for the most part pretty quickly.” He added.
Pear Butter nodded in agreement. “Right, but after that… we realized we’d been surrounded by timber wolves.” She said in a low tone.
Pear Butter and Bright Mac backed their flanks together as the wolves slowly closed in on them. Their green eyes glowed in the darkness and they snarled at the two trapped earth ponies. And then one of them leaped at Bright Mac. The stallion whipped around on his front hooves and kicked his hind ones out in a powerful buck. But the wolf had obviously learned a little from the previous time, because it managed to twist in the air at the last second before they grazed the wolf’s side. The buck knocked a few branches loose, and the wolf sailed past them and hit the ground on its side. The impact with the ground managed to shatter the wolf’s foreleg, but the damage fixed itself faster than it took for its full body to reform. Another wolf charged at Pear Butter, probably the same that she’d shattered against the tree. It was too close for Pear to use her rope, so she took a page out of her husband’s book and attempted to kick the timber wolf back again. The wolf had learned even more than the previous two, because it avoided her kick completely, dodging away from her striking hooves to line itself up for another lunge. Bright Mac put a stop to its attempt with his two front hooves slamming down on the wolf’s back, shattering it completely. Only to recoil back as a wolf head snapped at his throat, missing by inches. Pear reared up and lashed rapidly with her front hooves at the wooden head, but still retreated with her husband away from the wolf protecting its re-forming pack mate.
Buttercup’s mind raced. The two of them were still surrounded, and every time they disabled one of the wolves, another one made sure to cover the opening the fallen one made. The best possible way for the two of them to get out of this situation would be for them to disable all the wolves almost all at once and then make a break for it. But it seemed the timber wolves knew that as well, and so were choosing to play it smart and make it a battle of endurance against the two of them rather than rush in all at once to give the ponies the chance. Normally that would be fine, considering that Buttercup and Mac were earth ponies, which are pretty darn durable among the three races. But against infinitely re-forming timber wolves… well, they’d probably stand a better chance at crumbling Mt. Canter than they would at wearing out malevolent constructs of wood. Buttercup stepped on one of the branches Mac and her put out earlier and winced from a lingering ember stinging the inside of her rear hoof. Then she gasped in realization. Fire. Burning. Wood. Timber wolves can’t re-form if all the wood in them has been burned away! And they just so happen to be standing relatively near a great source of it. “Mac, think you can help me knock one-ah them into the tree?” She asked her husband. Bright Mac took a fleeting moment to glance at the smoldering tree glowing behind them. “It didn’t catch last time.” He commented with a grimace. “It’s the only chance we have tah get away. It has to work! If it doesn’t, then…” Buttercup trailed off, leaving the consequences of failure unspoken. Bright Mac nodded with determination. “Guess it has tah work then.” He turned to look Pear Butter in the eyes. “I love you.” He told her. Buttercup took a moment to meet his gaze, “I love you too,” She told him softly. Then her eyes hardened. “Now!” She called. Bright Mac stepped to the side as Buttercup leaped back from a timber wolf that charged her. She stepped to the side again and the wolf followed, lunging in for a vicious bite that it would never get the chance to deliver. Buttercup halted her retreat, crouched low, and then bucked with her hind legs straight up into the underside of the timber wolf’s jaw, stunning it. And then Bright Mac charged in, he rammed his shoulder into the wolf’s side, He braced his head against the wolf’s neck to keep it from whipping around and biting him. The yellow stallion pushed with his full body, shoving the timber wolf swiftly across the grass until he finally slammed the wolf bodily into the burning trunk of the tree, and then held the struggling wolf there until smoke started to waft upward from between the two wooden masses. Then he finally relented and released the wolf from his iron hold, backing up to stand flank to flank with his wife again. The wolf leapt away from the tree with a panicked yip. However, much to Bright Mac and Buttercup’s horror, it didn’t stay panicked for long. With one fluid and practiced motion, it planted its four paws in the dirt, and shook its foliage out like a dog shaking water from its coat. The smoldering and burning fragments of its body flew out and harmlessly drifted back down to the ground to burn themselves out, leaving the timber wolf, for the most part, whole. The wolf looked down briefly at its burning fragments, and then back up at the pair of earth ponies to angrily growl at them. It didn’t faze them; they were too busy realizing that their last hope had just died like the embers on the ground. The other wolves sensed their despair and began to slowly close in themselves.
The wolf they’d thrown though, took a single anticipated step towards them… And then suddenly was engulfed in flames. The now aflame wolf’s terrified and pained cries startled both ponies and lupines alike and the wolf started to frantically roll on the ground to put out the blaze. Something caught Buttercup’s eye in the new light produced by the fire: a dark shape darted out past the wolf from underneath a hollow hole beneath the roots of the burning tree, heading towards the dark tree line of the orchard. She wasn’t the only one to notice the fleeing shape; the remaining four timber wolves let out a wail of ferocious howls and, as one, converged on the shadow, Bright Mac, and Buttercup alike. But now with the encounter at four on three, their chances of making it through the night had significantly improved. The first wolf reached Mac first, and he made short work of it with his front hooves, shattering it in three quick strikes. The second wolf went for Buttercup, and she bucked out the front legs of it even quicker, and then she finished it off with a powerful leaping stomp downwards onto its body. “Buttercup! Now’s our chance!” Bright Mac called out to her, gesturing with a hoof in the direction of the homestead. The way to safety was clear! Buttercup nodded and made ready to run. And then the heart-wrenching scream of a child split the air. Buttercup and Bright Mac whipped around to where they’d last seen the shape to see another of the timber wolves completely engulfed in fire and futilely rolling on the ground. However, the fourth remaining timber wolf was still whole, and it had its teeth sunken into the rear end of a wildly thrashing smaller shape, fire spraying from the creature’s maw like water from a hose. It sent flames in every direction except the one it needed to get free, the wolf cruelly jerking its head around every time it tried in order to keep the flames away from itself. And all the while the shape screamed. That scream was a sound that Buttercup had never heard before yet knew she feared more than anything else in the world. It was the scream of a foal, angry, terrified, and in utter agony. A sound she never wanted to hear from her own children. And so she acted without any hesitation. She unslung, strung, and whipped out her rope at the head of the timber wolf she’d downed. Then, with the speed and precision only attainable by ponies fueled by adrenaline while furious and desperate to save the life of another, she flung the surprised wooden lupine head into the heart of the bonfire of the first flaming timber wolf, let it catch fire, and then lashed the now immolated head at the last remaining wolf. The flaming head just happened to fly at the perfect angle and velocity to fly muzzle-first straight up below the timber wolf’s tail between its flanks. And then, well, what happened next was really what any creature would do if something on fire inserted itself into a hole it’s not meant to be inserted into. That is to say, the timber wolf jerked upright and let out a sound somewhere between a yelp and a squeal, and likely felt something of a mixture of pain, surprise, and discomfort. Almost immediately after though, it let out a howl of terror as it was sprayed with intense flames from its captive, which it had released when it took sudden notice to its pack-mate’s unwarranted access to his posterior. A single growl startled Buttercup and Bright Mac out of their observation of the immolated wolves and they turned to find the last two remaining timber wolves, once more whole after doing their timber wolf-thing and re-forming their bodies again. Buttercup and Bright Mac stood their ground defiantly, ready to deal with the pair again. Although, in all honesty, it was much easier to do so considering one of the two wolves was missing a head and facing the wrong way. The singular whole timber wolf took a moment to glare at the two earth ponies standing in front of it, and then glanced at its handicapped partner, and gained an unsure look in its eyes. The odds had very aggressively shifted against it within a short time. It looked, to Buttercup, like it was deciding on whether to try its luck once more or just flee. However, it was the furious screech accompanied by the huge plume of flame that came from the owner of a pair of burning red-slit eyes that finally got the wolf to yelp in fear and turn tail and retreat back in the direction of the Everfree, its headless pack-mate haphazardly followed it on an irregular path. Buttercup sighed in relief, relaxing her stance now that the danger had passed. She leaned into the side of her husband for support. She felt her ears twitch and turn in the direction of a scuffing sound, and she looked and saw the shape of what Buttercup realized was a dragon looking directly at her with its large, red eyes. The light from the three burning timber wolves allowed her to make out more features on it than she could in the darkness of the night. It stood on four legs, had a pair of what looked like feathered wings folded at its sides, and a slender tail extending out behind its hind legs. Then the critter turned away and started limping toward the trees of the orchard, on a different route than the wolves took back towards the Everfree Forest. That is, until it faltered in its step and collapsed forward in a small heap. The fire’s glow gleamed red off the blood leaking from its flank. Buttercup gasped and took a step forward in concern, but hesitated. She heard Bright Mac step forward to stand next to her and he looked down to her, his eyes silently questioning about what to do. After all she’d seen it do, did she really want to help it? But then she remembered what made her help it… him… before. His young cry of pain spurred her maternal instincts then, and his prone form was spurring it now. She cantered over to the heap of scales, pulling the blanket from Mac’s sides and started bundling the small reptilian shape up while keeping pressure on the wound. “Help me get him back to the house Mac.” She told him.
“And that just about brings us ta’ now. After that, we got him home, kept pressure on the bleedin’ and then you walked in and asked if we were home’re not.” Pear Butter said, concluding her story to Granny Smith.
The three of them had moved into the living room after they finished treating the young drake’s wound, and set him down, along the length of one of the couches in the room, to rest.
“Ah’ see.” Granny commented stoically, her face conveying nothing of what she was thinking. She rocked her chair softly as she thought.
“Ma’… what are you thinkin’?” Bright Mac asked her after a few moments of her chair creaking in the quiet of the house.
“Gimme’ a seckn’d son.” She murmured thoughtfully, continuing to rock in her chair.
And so they waited. The only sounds that echoed through the house were the creaks of Granny’s chair and the ticking of the clock on the wall. “How’re the children?” Granny finally asked, breaking the relative silence.
“Macintosh was still up, but he told us he managed to get Applebloom and Applejack to bed while we were all gone. He was pretty tuckered out too, but stayed up out of worry. He was curious about us bringin’ in the lil’ feller, but we told him we’d handle it, and he went to bed himself afterwards. You made it back pretty soon after that.” Bright Mac answered.
“He did, did he?” Granny said. She looked over to the couch with the resting dragonling, his back rose and fell slowly with each breath. “Well, that sounds like a good idea fer now. Ah think it may be bes’ te’ get some shuteye ourselves an’ discuss it in the mornin’. We’ve all had a long night.” She decided aloud.
Bright Mac and Pear Butter met each other’s eyes and then looked back to Granny. “Are… ya sure we shouldn’t figure something out right now Granny?” Pear Butter asked worriedly.
“Ah’m sure Butter. Big decisions like this’n need clear heads. Go git’ some sleep.” Granny told her with a light smile.
“Hrmm… ah’ suppose… but what about him?” Pear asked, looking to the sleeping dragon.
“Don’chu worry ‘bout ‘im. Ah’ll keep an eye on the lil’ guy for the night. Doubt ah’ll get any sleep without ‘im in mah sight tonight anyways. That’nd it’ll help me think better with the conundrum layin’ down right in front ah’ me.” Granny told her. She waved her hoof in a shooing motion. “Now go-nd’ git some shuteye you two! Ya’ll need it after the night you’ve had.” She told them sternly, but not without a fond twinkle in her eye.
Pear Butter looked between Granny and the sleeping dragonling once more. “Well… if you’re sure…” She said before looking to Bright Mac. He gave her a reassuring nod and they both moved to the staircase upstairs to head to bed, leaving Granny Smith alone downstairs with their black-scaled guest for the night.
Granny softly rocked her chair. The rhythmic rise and fall of the dragon’s breaths were small, but consistent. Granny wasn’t sure how much blood he’d lost from Pear Butter’s story alone, but however much it was, his fate was out of their hooves now. They’d done what they could to help, and it’ll be up to Celestia whether the little one makes it through the night. But if Granny were a betting mare, she believed he stood a good chance of living till morning. He seemed like he had a strong will to live.
Which meant that they’d have to prepare for the eventuality of deciding what to do with him tomorrow.
Granny Smith was already thinking about it.
Three timber wolves. Pear Butter said he managed to bring down three timber wolves out there. Possibly more, if those small cinders Mac and Butter snuffed out on the way to the larger fire were what Granny thought they were. That little black dragon had the capacity to cause a lot of damage. That was undeniable.
But he’d saved her kin, even if it was unintentional, and suffered greatly because of it. And if Pear Butter’s recollection was accurate, he was also very young. Very young, and very alone. Nopony deserves to have to face the world on their own at that age, not even when they aren’t a pony.
He breathes fire though. Fire has no place on a farm. There are too many things that could easily catch and burn.
But it could also be used to protect, like it was used by the dragonling tonight. Fire is dangerous, but it has its uses.
Granny’s thoughts kept circling around and around between reasons to keep him here and reasons to get him away from the farm. And each time it only left her more unsure of what to do. But it also helped her to sort her thoughts, the circular mental motion would eventually stop once one side on either the pros, or the cons ran out of reasons to either keep or get rid of the dragon.
But despite that, she knew that the little one, at the very least, deserved one good night of sleep without any worries. And so she kept rocking her chair in synch with the dragon’s breaths. And eventually, she herself fell asleep while thinking of all that she’d seen and heard that night.
Granny Smith awoke to the sound of a light thud and a suprised squeak. She blearily blinked open her eyes to see the early light of the pre-sunrise dawn leaking in through the window across from her. Her mind caught up with her rather quickly and her eyes widened and shot to the couch the dragon was sleeping on.
Was, was the operative word. He wasn’t sleeping anymore and he wasn’t on the couch. She didn’t have to look around very long to find him though, thankfully.
The little dragon was shaking in pain at the foot of the couch, his injured leg slightly tangled in a blanket as he tried desperately to keep from making any more noise in an attempt to not wake Granny. Or, at least that was what Granny reasoned his reasons were.
Then the dragon looked up for a moment and met Granny Smith’s gaze and froze. Granny kept completely still, not even blinking as she stared into his sharp, diamond-slit pupils surrounded by the red of his irises. And then he darted to Granny’s right and hid behind the edge of the metal fireplace, out of Granny’s view and likely pressed against the wall.
Well he was certainly spry despite his injury.
And then she heard the dragon’s whimper from upsetting his wound again. Granny couldn’t help but send her sympathy out to the little one.
“Ya’ll don’t have teh’ worry ‘bout little ol’ me. Ah ain’t gonna hurt ya lil’ feller.” She said comfortingly in an attempt to try to coerce the dragon back out. Her words were met with silence from the corner around the fireplace. Granny sighed in resignation. This was going to take time.
Her ears were then met by the sound of the farm’s rooster crowing to the break of dawn outside. She closed her eyes in preparation for the coming day’s work, and then stood up slowly from her chair. She trotted into the kitchen, mindfully giving the fireplace a wide berth, to prepare breakfast for the family.
But she made a point to pick out a ripe apple from the basket on the counter and place it on the floor near the couch, and gave a reassuring look at the huddled black form against the far wall. He’s bound to be hungry after the night he had before. She caught the gleam of red from his eyes before she turned around again. The hue matched the color of the apple she’d just put down.
That stray thought somehow reassured her.
The sound of quiet hoofsteps coming down the stairs drew Granny’s eyes away from the oven. She grabbed a cooking pan off the back hook to place on the oven even while she greeted the second Apple to wake that day. “Good mornin’ Macintosh.” Granny murmured to the red colt.
“Mornin’ Granny.” He replied tiredly.
“Mind the fireplace fer now. Our guest’s bein’ a little skittish at the moment.” Granny told the colt with a small nod at the dragonling, who remained affixed to the same spot with his back to the wall. Macintosh looked to where she indicated and his eyes shot wide open. Though he glanced back and forth between Granny and the dragon, he eventually nodded in affirmation.
“Well, take a seat. Breakfast’ll be ready by the time everypony gets down.” Granny told him. He did just that.
The next sounds of wakefulness in the household came from above Granny’s head in the floor above, where Bright Mac and Pear Butter’s room was. Granny first heard a set of heavier hooves bumping against the floor, and then a second lighter set each set off in the direction of the other bedrooms, likely each went to wake up the fillies. This was proven true as, a few moments later, Applejack came bounding quickly down the stairs and past the kitchen. “Goin’ to feed Winona! Be back in a bit!” She said rapidly as she passed Macintosh and Granny Smith, not even pausing to say any kind of greeting to the two of th-
“Oh! Uh, mornin’ Granny, mornin’ Mac!” Applejack said sheepishly after popping her head back inside through the doorframe, before darting back outside to feed the dog.
… Well, better a late greeting than none at all.
Granny was actually surprised by how diligent the young filly was with taking care of the canine. Actually, it surprised her how diligent she was with all of her daily chores in recent times. It probably had something to do with getting her cutie mark, Granny supposed. Her parents had certainly been relieved to have the orange filly back from her brief stay with her Orange relatives.
“She’s certainly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this mornin’.” Pear Butter commented, trotting down the stairs at a more sedate pace than her daughter.
“That she is. Ye’ makin’ the applesauce today, or the pancakes?” Granny asked her.
“Ah’ll handle the applesauce since you’d probably slap mah hoof away if ah tried to take over the pancakes from you.” Pear Butter said drolly.
“Now yer learnin’!” Granny Smith said with a laugh.
Pear Butter giggled as well and took up her position in the kitchen near the apple strainer.
As the two got to work, Pear Butter glanced over her shoulder to the living room. “So how’s he doin’?” She asked Granny.
Granny looked sideways at Pear Butter. “Ah imagine the little feller’s doin’ alright, considerin’ how he wound up. But like ah told Macintosh earlier, he’s skittish ‘round others. It’s best we give ‘im some space fer now.”
Pear Butter looked at Granny. “But what about his bandages? Won’t we need ta’ change em’?” She asked.
Granny sighed. “That’s certainly somethin’ we’ll need teh do at some point. But he was unconscious when we first treated ‘im, and that ain’t gonna be the case from now on. With how he’s likely been livin’ till now, the only way we’ll get close ‘nough teh do that again is if he lets us.” she explained.
With a small turn of her head, Granny could just make out the form of the dragonling still hunched in his corner. However, the apple she left out on the floor was gone, and with a second look, Granny Smith thought she could just make out some slight movements in his hunched form, as if he were eating something.
Granny Smith smiled. “An’ while it might take some patience, ah think we kin manage teh get ‘im to warm up teh us in time.” She told Pear Butter reassuringly.
And that was when Bright Mac came trotting down the stairs. “Did one ah you wake up an’ bring down Applebloom?” he asked them worriedly.
The two mares looked at each other, and then back at Bright Mac. “No, why?” Pear answered, suddenly concerned.
Bright Mac’s eyes grew more worried than before. “She wasn’t in her crib when I went tah get her.” He told them.
“What?!” Pear Butter exclaimed.
“Well, earth foals do tend tah get a burst ah energy to their bodies pretty soon after they’re born. Guess it’s Applebloom’s turn now.” Granny commented calmly.
“But she’s barely a few months!” Pear argued.
“Eeyup. Looks like she beat Jackie’s record of escapin’ at three and a half ah them.” Granny said with a chuckle. “Really, after raisin’ two foals already, ah’d have thought ye’d be prepared fer this by now.”
Pear Butter put a hoof to her forehead. “Ah’m just let down that she’s not likely to be calmer than AJ was when she was a foal. We need to go look for her, she could get hurt!” She told them.
“Ah’ve told ye this twice already when the other two were foals. When an earth pony foal starts gettin’ surges in their magic like all pony foals, then the only things that’re dangerous teh them in this house are all here in the kitchen. Ye don’t need the worry so long as ye left the windows closed so she can’t get out.” Granny Smith reassured her.
“Ah checked, all the windows are locked up.” Bright Mac informed them.
“There, ye see! Jus’ go look around. She’s around here somewhere.” Granny told Pear with a wizened smile.
“Uh… Ma, Pa, Granny?” Macintosh said, grabbing the adult’s attention.
“What is it Macintosh?” Granny asked.
Mac’s answer was to only point across the table towards the living room. The three adults followed to where he was pointing and then all of them felt their ears drop.
The dragon was still in his place, and he looked just about done with his apple, but the sudden silence made him look back up at them warily.
Unfortunately for him, he looked in the wrong direction to find out what had caused the change, and was thus completely caught by surprise when Applebloom dropped down onto his back with a gurgle of baby joy.
He yelped in surprise and immediately darted from his hiding spot, but Applebloom was clinging to his back by her magically strengthened front hooves and she started giggling in glee at the sudden dragon-back ride.
Normally, one or more of the ponies in the kitchen would have made a move to try to intercept and separate them, for both their sakes, but the sheer speed and explosiveness of the dragon’s movements left them all stunned and unable to make a decision on how to catch him. Now that he's moving, he was quite literally running across the walls and sides of surfaces as he scrambled and leaped at a dizzying rate as he tried to escape the one hanging off his back. Granny Smith noticed multiple scratches and gouges in the floor, walls, and furniture suddenly just appearing after the dragon shot past them.
And all the while, Applebloom squealed in joy as she rode on the back of the creature moving at seemingly impossible speeds.
That is, until the dragon misplaced his good hind leg, slipped, and slammed his wounded thigh into the arm of Granny Smith’s rocking chair, and sent the both of them to the floor.
The four watching earth ponies could only mutely watch the train wreck as it unfolded.
Applebloom honestly got off no worse for wear than when she started, thanks to both her magic increasing her durability, as well as just not taking the brunt of the fall. The dragon, however, hit the floor and tumbled forward across the rug, all the while breaking Applebloom’s fall with his own body. Those facts however didn’t seem to concern him though, as he clutched his leg with his front claws with his eyes scrunched shut and his mouth clenched stiffly open even as he rolled across the ground.
Granny’s eyes widened, she recognized the face of a foal that had just taken a bad fall and was momentarily unable to vocalize their pain, and she knew what came next was not going to be fun to hear.
She was right. The next instant, the dragon let out a sharp shriek of pain that ripped into everypony in the room, and then continued to whine and growl even as he curled up around his leg.
And, of course, being a foal and right next to a sudden and scary sound, Applebloom started to tear up. Granny winced in preparation. Regardless of how much pain the little dragon was in when he let out his cry, he’d never be able to beat out the raw reverberation in the wail of an upset foal.
Somehow, the dragon managed to hear Applebloom’s whimpers that were growing in volume through his own racket, and he shakily looked up at her from the floor with his red, reptilian eyes.
What happened next would be etched into Granny Smith’s memory for the rest of time.
The long, sharp, diamond-shaped pupils of the dragon’s eyes slowly softened… literally. The corners curved, and the black stretched into a more ovular shape, the intimidating edges in his eyes that had been present since they’d found the youngster disappeared completely in favor of a shape that nearly matched the ellipse pupils of other equines. Granny Smith could actually see the concern and empathy fill into his eyes.
And then he slowly crawled over to Applebloom and brought his head up to hesitantly nudge, and then nuzzle Applebloom’s cheek. She opened her tear-filled eyes and looked at him with small huffs of imminent sobs, and sniffled her nose. Then, her mouth curled up into a smile and she let out a small giggle. She reached her tiny hooves forward and pulled the dragon into a laugh-filled hug. He resisted slightly, at first, but ultimately surrendered to the embrace, likely assuming it was the only way to keep the young foal happy. The rest of the Apple family could only stare at the strange pair from the kitchen, each one contemplating the events they had just witnessed.
And then Applejack trotted back inside through the front door. She sat down at the kitchen table next to Macintosh. “Mornin’ Ma, mornin’ Pa!” She greeted her parents. Pear Butter and Bright Mac looked at her and hesitantly nodded a greeting to their eldest daughter.
Applejack looked over to Granny Smith. “So what’s fer breakfa-what is Applebloom huggin’?” She queried in confusion mid-sentence, having noticed the actual dragon in the room finally.
“A dragon that looks like he’s about ta start cryin’ instead ah Bloom.” Macintosh answered with a wince.
Granny was about to ask what her grandson meant, until she noticed that he was right. The little dragon was wincing in obvious discomfort and had starting to tear up as Applebloom hugged him, her surge-boosted grip likely being the cause. Not to mention his wound had re-opened if the new red stains on his bandages were any indication.
“Oh dear, Butter, maybe ye should go‘nd grab Applebloom? And Bright Mac, see if ye ken get close teh him. It looks like we’ll have teh change his bandages sooner than we though. Ah’ll grab the first-aid kit.” Granny Smith told the pair. “And we’ll get around tah breakfast shortly you two, jus’ give us a few minutes teh treat our guest first.” She told Applejack and Macintosh before leaving the room.
Considering the house wasn’t on fire right now, Granny Smith thought that things had gone well involving their first incident with the young dragon. Maybe he wasn’t such a bad thing for the farm as she’d been thinking he could be.
Granny Smith settled herself down into one of the chairs around the kitchen table, feeling rather tender in her legs after the day’s work of preparation for zap apple harvest day. Regardless of what had been going on lately, it didn’t change the fact that zap apple season was one of the most important times of the year for the Acres. They couldn’t afford to slacken in their efforts just because of small hiccups like orchard fires or a dragon living in their home.
Speaking of which…
“So,” Granny spoke, drawing the attention of Bright and Pear. “now that we’ve gotten all the young’ins teh bed, we need teh start figurin’ out what’s te’be done about our lil’ scaled guest here now.” She said, looking over to the couch where the dragon was sleeping.
Applebloom’s actions that morning had, ironically, done wonders for getting him to open up to the rest of the family. After Pear Butter was able to extricate the two apart, he made no fuss about anypony else getting close so long as they did so calmly and gently. And they were even able to change his bandages, which he desperately needed at the time considering that he’d unintentionally re-opened his injuries. Bright Mac was able to comfort and keep him still even while he flinched in pain from the treatment.
“Where’r we supposed to start with something like this?” Pear Butter asked Granny.
“Ah believe, we should first say, we have two choices tah decide between doin: keepin’ him, or sendin’ him away.” Bright Mac proposed.
“What?! Mac, he’s still hurt! We can’t send him out as he is right now!” Pear exclaimed in shock.
“Ah’m not sayin’ we are, ah was just sayin’ what choices we have to choose between. We can’t get anywhere if we don’t know where tah start.” Bright Mac said to her diplomatically.
“An’ knowin’ that we can’t send him out injured-s’a good point in favor of keepin’ him here… at least fer a little while if’n not permanently.” Granny added, acknowledging both of their thoughts.
Pear Butter shook her head. “Ah just don’t get why we need tah discuss this now. We could wait ‘til he’s better-.”
“That ain’t a good idea, ah’m afraid.” Granny interrupted.
Pear Butter looked to her questioningly. “Why not?” She asked. Bright Mac looked confused as well, not quite understanding his mother’s thinking.
Granny sighed. “Because it ain’t fair teh him teh wait til’ the last minute teh make this decision. Especially if’n we make the wrong choice with how we feel.” Granny said with a grimace. “If we send him away after actin’ and talkin’ like we care about him, it will wind up hurtin both him and us fer a long time. An’ likewise, if’n we keep him while we don’t care about him, it would jus’ be cruel teh wave our family’s love for one another in his face while withholdin’ it from him the entire time.” She looked up at the two parents with a look of steel in her eyes. “We need to know from here on out how we’re goin’ teh treat him, before too many attachments form.”
“Choosin’ how tah act beforehoof? That… seems a bit dishonest.” Pear Butter commented unsurely.
“Wouldn’t we learn more on what tah decide while getting’ tah know him better as he heals?” Bright Mac asked.
“This is a decision about whether we’ll be acceptin’ him into the family. An’ make no mistake, that’s exactly what we’ll be doin’ if we let him stay here. Ye did put a pretty good emphasis on that earlier today, didn’t ye Butter.” Granny pointed out.
Applejack had seen that their black-scaled guest was empathetic of her younger sister earlier, and so pestered her parents and Granny about whether they’d be having a pet dragon alongside Winona.
Pear Butter quickly admonished her and told her in no uncertain terms that he wouldn’t be a “pet” in any sense of the word. He was a living, thinking being, if not a pony, and referring to him as anything but that was incredibly rude. She then promptly shooed the orange filly back to work when Applejack pressed and asked if they were still going to keep him.
“Ah was jus’ tellin’ Applejack about what was right. There are other beings out there besides ponies. It ain’t right tah think ah them as less than us.” Pear Butter defended her actions.
Granny smiled. “Yes ye did. An’ since he’s a livin’ being, that means him livin’ under this roof would make him family. An’ the thing about family,” Granny said looking back to Bright Mac. “is that ye don’t choose them. Ye don’t have a time period to wait an learn about who they are teh decide on whether ye like them er not. Ye just know they’re yer family. Ye love em, ye care fer them, an if they stumble, ye help em get back on their hooves. Ye guide them when they’re lost, ye show them when they make mistakes, an ye build them back up so that they can do better an find their place in the world. That’s why we need teh make a decision tonight, before anythin’ else grows between us an him. It ain’t dishonest teh mentally prepare yerself fer a life-changin’ development. Emotions are fleetin’, but love is permanent so long as yeh build the foundation well. So let’s get back teh talkin’ about whether teh build that foundation or not.” She finished.
Bright Mac and Pear Butter shared an astonished look with each other for a moment. Then they looked back to Granny and nodded in agreement.
“Now then… since the two choices we’ve got are teh either keep him or get rid of him, let’s get the ugly side outta the way first an’ start listin’ reasons why he shouldn’t stay.” Granny suggested.
“He breaths fire,” Bright Mac said immediately. “he’s got claws, sharp teeth, and kin dart around fast as a whip-crack.”
“Mac!” Pear exclaimed again, incredulous.
“What? She said get the ugly side outta the way, so ah did! Now we kin move on tah discussin’ other reasons fer why he should stay!” Bright Mac defended himself.
“So ye think he should stay?” Granny Smith asked him with an arched brow.
“Course ah do. He saved our lives last night, and this mornin’ he kept Applebloom from cryin’ even though she made him panic an’ hurt himself again. He seems like an alright lil’ guy tah me.” Bright Mac answered with an approving smile in the direction of the couch.
“Mmhmm… those’re certainly things teh consider.” Granny murmured.
Pear Butter sighed in exasperation from Bright Mac’s easy logic, and then looked over to Granny. “And what about you Granny? What do you think about it?” She asked the Apple matriarch.
Granny smiled knowingly. “Ah’m keepin’ mah thoughts teh myself till ah hear both ah yers. So what is it ye think we should do with the youngin’?” She asked Pear Butter right back.
“He should stay.” Pear answered firmly.
“Oh? Ye think so?” Granny asked.
“Ah know so. It ain’t safe out there fer him.” Pear Butter stated.
“Course it ain’t safe, he’s a child, an’ the wilderness ain’t no place fer a child. But he seems teh have managed well enough till now, assumin’ he’s been on his own fer a while.” Granny pointed out.
“It ain’t because of that. Ah don’t know if either of you saw it, but he’s got a mark on the left of his collar. It looked like somethin’ horrible mah papa once told me about called a branding mark. Somethin’ slavers used tah mark their property.” Pear Butter stated darkly.
Granny sat forward suddenly in alarm. “A brand?! Are ye sure?” She demanded of Pear Butter.
“Mah papa told me one would look like a scar in the shape of a word or a symbol. And that’s exactly what it looked like tah me.” Pear Butter answered.
Granny Smith closed her eyes and shook her head. “Unbelievable…” She said and leaned back into her seat. “Yer right tah say that he shouldn’t be out in the wild if’n he’s marked by somepony as a slave. Slavery may be illegal here in Equestria but that ain’t true in other lands. An’ ah doubt that slavers would have any scruples about draggin’ ponies an’ other critters outta their homes and into those lands tah sell em off. The only reason they wouldn’t is from the worry of gettin’ caught. The Princess most definitely wouldn’t have any hesitation about punishin’ those types ah ponies. But that protection don’t extend out into the Everfree.” Granny paused with a sigh. “Alright, that settles it. He’s stayin’.” She announced.
“Good.” Bright Mac nodded.
“Did ya really not want him here Granny?” Pear Butter asked.
“Ah never said that. Although ah am a bit let down that yer reason fer him stayin’ easily beat mine out before ah could even say it.” Granny said with a chuckle.
Bright Mac looked confused. “Beat out yer reas-wait, Ma, are you sayin’ you were competin’ with us?!” He asked indignantly.
“Eeeeeeeyup.” Granny drolled.
“What the hay?!”
“Mac! Quiet, the children are sleeping!” Pear Butter shushed him.
“Ma,” Bright Mac continued in a lower voice. “this was the future of a lil’ dragon an you were tryin’ tah outperform us? Why?” He demanded.
“Cause ah’m gettin’ old! What else am ah gonna do with mah time? These legs of mine are gettin’ flimsy an’ floppy. Flimsy an’ floppy ah tell yeh! Ah can’t buck apples with flimsy an floppy legs!” Granny exclaimed as she flailed her forelegs in the air.
Pear Butter facehooved. “Granny, please, the children, are, sleeping. Old or not, ah will make the both of ya’ll sleep out in the barn if you both don’t be quiet!” She whispered threateningly.
Granny Smith blinked in realization and then lowered her legs back down. “Right, mah apologies. Ah suppose mah head’s gettin’ a bit old as well… don’t remember going senile in the last decade…” Granny mumbled, then chuckled at herself briefly before looking back at Bright Mac and Pear Butter. “Regardless, ah think there’s still one last question teh ask ye both.”
“What is it?” Bright Mac asked.
Granny looked over to the couch again. “What should we name the little one? We can’t exactly call him “the dragon” fer’ever.” She said with an amused smile at the thought.
“That… is a good point…” Pear Butter commented, looking down in thought.
“Apple…something?” Bright Mac said, unsure.
Granny Smith rolled her eyes. “Obviously. Everyone in the family deserves teh have “Apple” in their name. We’re lookin’ fer somethin’ more distinguishin’ fer a full name though.” She chided.
“Maybe he should get a dragon-like name, with “Apple” being added in?” Pear Butter asked.
“Perhaps.” Granny said.
“Scales?” Bright Mac suggested.
Granny snorted. “That’d be like namin’ a pony “Fur”, or “Mane”, or somethin’ else that grows on us. Come up with a better one.” She told him.
“Somethin’ that has deeper meanin’ tah us…” Pear Butter murmured, delving deeper into thought with a hooftip to her chin. She got up and walked softly over to the living room.
“Apple Stitch!” Bright Mac said with a grin.
“What?” Granny asked with a strange face.
“Apple. Stitch. He’ll be an Apple and we stitched him up when he was hurt!” Bright Mac explained cheerfully, as if his idea was the one they’d go with.
“That… makes no sense. What even is an apple stitch? An’ we didn’t stitch him up, we poured alcohol on him and wrapped up his injury.” Granny criticized.
“Deeper meanin…” Pear murmured while looking down at the dragon.
“Well ah don’t hear you comin’ up with any ideas Ma.” Bright Mac said in annoyance as he slumped back in his chair.
“That’s ‘cause ah’m too busy listenin’ teh your terrible ones.” She retorted.
“He… really did save us that night, huh Bright Mac.” Pear Butter said, drawing the bickering pair’s attention to her. “We wouldn’t have been able tah get away if it weren’t for him.”
Bright Mac stared at her a moment before he sighed. “No… no ah reckon we wouldn’t have.” He admitted. Then he smiled. “He turned them wolves tah charcoal faster’n they could react.”
Pear smiled back with a chuckle. Then her eyes widened in realization. “Charcoal.” She declared, turning to look at Granny and Bright Mac. “We’ll name him Charcoal. Charcoal Apple.”