“Bloomberg, this is your special day. Mama’s so proud of you.” He heard his cuz, Applejack, say in the background, talking to her gift apple tree.
Now, he wasn’t a judging fella, that just wouldn’t be him, but talking to a tree was still a little strange in his book. Eh, live and let live his Pa always said.
“Sheriff!” A cute feminine voice came from his left.
Turning around at the same time as Sheriff Sylverstar, Braeburn saw Little Strongheart and Chief Thunderhooves running toward them. However, contrarily to earlier that very same day, there was no trace of aggression in the chief’s traits.
“Chief just wanted to say goodbye before we left and, you know…” The young calf coughed very audibly, frowning toward her direct superior. “Apologize a bit too.”
“Hurm, yes…” The big buffalo looked uncomfortable, his eyes avoiding the settler ponies. “I would like to apologize in the escalation of this conflict and the destruction your town suffered.”
“Yeah well, you sho-” Sheriff Sylverstar’s breath was cut short by a hit in the ribs. Frowning, he turned, only to see Braeburn frowning at him.
Sometimes, the Sheriff was a tad bit too mule-like for him. Not that he had anything against mules! Mighty kind fellas, those be!
“No biggy, Chief Thunderhooves,” The brown stallion said, waving a hoof in front of himself. “We mighta been too eager to come to blows too. Hopefully, none of your warriors’ got any big injuries.”
Now appeased, both Little Strongheart and Braeburn let the two leaders breathe.
Not for very long though, as the stampeding herd had just about completed their race through the orchard’s new trail. Exchanging looks, Chief Thunderhooves and Little Strongheart nodded at each other before explaining that it was time for them to go.
Strangely, Braeburn felt a little pinch in his heart at that. But he managed not to show it.
He bowed his head to the buffalos, imitating Sheriff Sylverstar.
“Until next time!” He shouted, hoping to be heard over the thundering hooves of her tribes migration.
She looked back and, for a short moment, Braeburn thought the calf had heard… had something else to tell him. But no, her eyes quickly went to his cousin and her friend, Rainbow Dash, he had gathered.
Maybe he could…
Nah, the buffalos were already leaving. He’d just inconvenience her and make her late.
So he watched her, as she left running toward the horizon. The urge went through him to play a bit of harmonica and have Sheriff Sylverstar accompany him with his famous singing voice.
He wasn’t really in the mood for melancholy though, it was time for some good ol’ celebrations!
Grinning childishly, Braeburn trotted to his cousin and her friends. “Now then, gals, I don’t know about you, but I’d call that an eventful day.”
“Meh, that’s pretty much Tuesday for us.” The pegasus, Rainbow Dash if he recalled right, shrugged, looking exactly nonchalant enough for it not to be a joke.
Slowly, he blinked, directing a questioning gaze at his kin. “For real, Cuz? Last I heard, Ponyville wasn’t that troublesome a place, ‘xcept for that whole Mare in the Moon deal last season.”
It was her purple unicorn friend that replied.
“You’d be… surprised,” she said with a grimace.
Now he really had a feeling Applejack wasn’t telling a lot in her letters. Weird, he could have sworn she was Honesty. Did he switch those in his head? That blue mare gal hovering next to them sure was blunt enough for that to work then, he guessed.
Huh, then AJ was probably Loyalty.
Yup, must be it.
“Well, life in Ponyville wouldn’t be nearly as exciting without some new stuff from times to times! Sure, there’d be my parties and they’re funnilicious, which is kind of a strange word when you think abo-”
Whoa nelly, the pink mare had jumped in his face. And was looking at him with wide unblinking innocent blue eyes, all the while still talking. Didn’t she hear of personal space?
Chuckling, he tried to hide his unease. It wouldn’t do to make a guest uncomfortable! Better let her say her part and just wait patiently.
“So there’s the part where the diamond dogs get a hold of Rarity and we go down the tunnels to rescue her and it was kinda fun going down there, but since that happened outside of Ponyville, maybe that doesn’t count. Oh, but then-”
Any time now…
“And I said ‘Oatmeal?! Are you Loco in the Coco?!’”
He fought to keep his eyes from wandering around. Oh, he wanted to glance at the town’s clock so badly… but he didn’t. First of all, it had been destroyed and wouldn’t be accurate anymore. Second, because… well, that was a pretty good first reason actually. No need for more.
“And then Twilight goes on to say what I’ve been saying all along, you gotta share, you gotta care! I wouldn’t mind so much if I hadn’t been flat out ignored before!”
“All too true!” Braeburn said loudly, cutting her off before she could go onto another one of her famous tangent. “Though, if I could say, Miss… Pie? Could you be just a little less determined with your songs? That one kinda caused a war.”
She gave a very sheepish smile at his remark.
--
Now, maybe he shouldn’t have said that. Hopefully, it wasn’t the reason the other mares had insisted they take the journey back on the train on that very same evening.
He could not help feel a little guilty at that. What was he thinking, making a nice lady like that feel bad about her attempts at peacekeeping?
Oh, why was he such a stupid sexy stallion?
…
What? Everypony had told him that once.
Still, his pretty face and golden locks meant very little now that everypony had gone home. His little house on the verge of the orchards coulda used a bit more living in it.
Hay, he had the mattresses prepared an’ everything! Not for the mares, ‘course! Nah, they’d get his bed upstairs and the guest rooms’. And the sofa. And the pile of hay in the barn.
Now that he thought about it, hosting six mares and making sure they all had the best comfort possible at the same time might have stretched his stuff a bit thin…
Speaking of supplies…
How much were the town’s affected? They’d baked a lotta pies today.
Frowning, pursing his lips into – not a pout, for Celestia’s sake! He had lost count on how many ponies had told him that! – a thoughtful… something, he went to fetch the quill on his sofa.
For some reason, it had made the pink mare snicker to see where he often forgot his quill. Nice mare, for sure, but a bit of an oddball…
Shaking his head, he forced himself to concentrate. He could easily line up the numbers in his head to make the right calculations. For a few minutes, the only sounds to echo in his house were the scribbling of his quill against the paper and the ticking of his Granpa’s old cuckoo’s clock.
The results now in his face, Braeburn tried not to grimace. Apple pies made for great projectiles, for sure, but… with the number of trees taken down to accommodate the buffalos, added to what had been put into the pies and what they would need to put in future tributes…
Nah, it wouldn’t be a problem, they’d fasten for a couple of weeks and that would be that. They were good ponies not afraid of hardships in Appleloosa!
Throwing away his hat and stripping out of his vest, the young stallion settled down into bed, closing his eyes and yawning.
“Phew, this whole mane pulling business with the buffalos’ finally over.” Then he added, as an afterthought. “Could have gone better though.”
--
Cock-a-doodle-doo!
“Good morning, AAAAAAAAAAAppleloosa!” He jumped out of bed, feeling very energized.
Every morning was a good morning in Appleloosa for Braeburn and he had no intention to let a bit of financial trouble weight him down. Suck it up and deal, his Pa always said.
Dressing up, the young stallion put on his hat and vest. Well, he did, after he mechanically grabbed empty air the first time.
“Huh?” Braeburn had said, looking at the spot on his bedside table. “I could have sworn…”
This being but a minor confusion, he wouldn’t let it stay on his mind for long.
First, breakfast, then some good ol’ apple bucking, Apple family style!
--
At first, there had been some puzzling things happening… For example, some of the apples in the trees didn’t match up with his memory. And they had already rebuilt the town’s clock. In a single night!
At the sight, he had let out an impressed low whistle. Now that was some good Appleloosan spirit! Sheesh, he almost felt a bit of an underachiever for waking up at sunrise and starting to buck apples before the hens had started clucking.
So he had gone about his morning chores with renewed vigor. Each buck resonated in his legs, for lack of control and a bit too much enthusiasm, but he calmed down… eventually.
Quickly though, he noticed something very very wrong.
“The trees came back?!” He looked at the missing trail with very wide eyes and a jaw touching the grass. “H-how? Where’d they come from?!”
An hundred trees didn’t grow back overnight! That just didn’t happen! Those weren’t zap apple trees! They were just regular trees!
O-oh no, what would the buffalos think if they saw the path had disappeared?! They’d probably be terribly insulted. They had to do something fast! Before any of their new friends saw this!
“SHERIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIFF!” He screamed, turning tail and running at full speed toward the town.
Through this little endeavor, he failed to notice one hill with specifically prepared soil, waiting to accommodate a tree his cousin had promised to bring with her. No, he was much too busy climbing up the small cliff separating the orchard from the rest of the town.
Galloping, he went straight for the sheriff’s office. But didn't quite reach it.
“Hey Braeburn!” Somepony called, voice slurring.
Hearing that, he slowed down, curiously sending a look in the direction it had come from.
Salt Lick, the oldest pony in town, which he often decided to prove through his lack of teeth and his wrinkled as hay face. Braeburn didn’t... well, no, he couldn’t dislike an Appleloosan, but he very much wanted nothing to do with that drunkard. Ever.
“Why don’t you tell us more about that marefriend that lives in Saddle Arabia?” The old stallion shouted, laughing in an extremely grating reedy way.
Not this again! He thought with a mental sigh, before stopping very abruptly.
He had very good reasons to think this was happening again, because he remembered those exact same words from two days ago! Right as he was passing by the saloon!
Wait… Old Salt Lick was always at the saloon early in the morning. And around noon. And late in the afternoon.
Not in the evening though, because Clean Glass would always throw him out for the rest of the day. For good.
Snorting at the old stallion who had decided that his lack of answer was an answer all on its own and left, Braeburn shook his head. It really was stupid of him to think like that. So he had a little feeling of Déjà Vu, big deal.
“Listen to me, now. I’m turning more paranoid than I have a right to be.” Braeburn chuckled to himself. After a few instants, he had cleared away his desire to laugh and felt ready to remember the urgency of the situation. “Okay! Where was I? Oh, yeah, SHERIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIFF!”
“Shut up, Braeburn!”
He narrowly dodged an incoming splash of water, thrown from the second floor of a house on the main street. The mare at the window was glaring, her mane disheveled as if she had just gotten out of bed.
Somepony’s feeling huffy…
Eh, no matter, she was kind of right. It wasn’t very neighborly of him to just shout in the middle of the main street in the morning, especially after the big fight that had happened the day before.
Putting the incident behind him, he dashed one last time, making it to his destination.
“Sheriff! You won’t believe what I saw!” He started, pointing back toward the orchards and gesturing wildly. “T-the trails we made… for the buffalos, go-”
“Don’t talk to me about the buffalos, boy!” Sheriff Sylverstar exploded.
“Huuuh… why?” They had just come to an agreement the day before. Sounded like an awful short time during which to forget.
“They want us to uproot all our trees?!” The brown stallion stood up, glaring at him as if he had said something immensely stupid or offensive. Rapidly, he grabbed his hat and started trotting away. “As long as I’m sheriff in this town, it ain’t gonna happen!”
Blinking, completely baffled, Braeburn could only stare after the disappearing form of the sheriff.
“What in the hay…?”
--
Something was going on, no doubt ‘bout that, but darn it if he could tell what. Was the whole town playing a joke on him?
Everypony seemed to be tensed as a chord on an old guitar. It was like the conflict had never even ended! Hay, mentioning buffalos got huffy and snarky responses.
Now completely lost, the young stallion just wandered around the town, wondering if he was dreaming. Kind of a weird dream though, what’s with all the uncanny similarities to his morning two days ago. Usually, his dreams were a bit more… poufy in style.
Taking him out of his pensive state, the town’s clock rang twelve times.
He still had trouble digesting how fast they had worked on the thing. It really was impressive to think about the logistics of finding the right materials in the middle of the desert, build it all, paint it and make it work in one night. Plus, it seemed to be in perfect synch with the sun, like it had never been destroyed.
…
“Nah!” He laughed. That was just one big coincidence.
On top of all the other strange coincidences.
Like the train… arriving seven minutes late…
He stared at the same ponies pulling the same train from two days ago… and a bunch of familiar ponies getting off that same train...
A cold fear started gripping his guts.
“Hey Cuz!” Braeburn ran to greet them, managing to stop them dead in their track. Applejack looked very skittish, but so was he. His voice, while strong and energetic, had little tremors to it. “I’m guessing you were sold to the charms of AAAAAAAAAAAPPLELOOSA. Honestly thought you had gone back to Pon-”
“Braeburn, this ain't the time! Our friend go-”
Nope!
“Speaking of, where are they?” He shot a few glances at their surroundings, seeing nothing but the beauty of Appleloosa.
“That's what I was try-”
“Did the pink one run off? Seems like one hay of a ball of sugar high that one for sure. At least this time, it shouldn't be the buffalos,” he joked, snorting at the image of Little Strongheart trying to put up with that Pinkie Pie.
“Actually, that's precisely who got them.” The purple unicorn jumped in.
“Aw, horseapple. Again?!” Braeburn swore, before realizing he was in the presence of four mares, and that just wasn’t good manners. “I can’t believe I just said that in front of you ladies. Mighty sorry to y’all.”
He took off his hat and lowered his head in apology, unaware of the baffled and exasperated look on his cousin’s face.
Suddenly, the white unicorn mare started batting her eyelashes at him. “My, Applejack, I think I like what I hear. Your name is Braeburn, isn’t it?”
“Y-yes, Ma’am!”
Was it just him or had the princess gone overboard with the sun and the heat all of a sudden?
“Rarity! This isn’t the time!”
“Oh, alright, Applejack.” Rarity rolled her eyes and reluctantly let her friend take the lead again.
His ears twitched and almost drooped. That mare was a pretty one for sure and the attention was kinda flattering. Contrarily to what some of the townsfolk seemed to think, he did swing for mares, thank you. Or just females in general. Never knew if he could fall for a griffon or a cow, after all.
Pretty much all of his cousin’s friends were beauties now that he looked at them in a context other than war situation. Like the pegasus hanging around in the back of the pack. He could have sworn he had seen her before. Maybe in a magazine…
“Braeburn!” Applejack screamed, punching his shoulder.
Ouch.
“Huh, what, Cuz?” He asked, massaging his twitching muscle.
“Do ya know where the buffalos are stayin’?! We gotta find our friends, now!”
“S-sure thing…” Braeburn said with a fake smile, feeling his heartbeat accelerate at the dawning horror that was revealing itself to him. “Come around, I’ll show you.”
“Wait!”
It had been the purple one… Twilight Sparkle.
“We can’t leave for an expedition into hostile territory without any supplies. What if it takes more than a few hours?”
“Oooooh, right! Can’t believe I didn’t think of that!” He facehoofed, and was imitated by Applejack. “Shame on me!”
Miss Rarity raised a delicate eyebrow at him. She was looking at him… oddly.
“Come on then, we’ll find everything we need at my place.”
He had a feeling though, that it wouldn’t be needed.
--
He was right.
Oh sweet flanks of Celestia! He was right! Just outside of town, his cousin’s friends arrived practically the second they started running toward the buffalos’ territory.
The shock had him tongue-tied. Good thing none of the other ponies were paying attention to him. That is, until his favorite buffalo came out from behind a rock and the rainbow-maned mare started pushing her forward. He didn’t quite listen to her explanation though.
“H-hey Little Strongheart,” he said nervously.
“Do I know y-?”
Being pushed against her face wasn’t exactly a nightmare for him, but he’d rather it happen in other circumstances. Maybe at a nice dinner or around a campfire. With Applejack’s hooves on his rump, that just went into plain disturbing.
“That’s weird, ‘cause my cousin Braeburn here wants to explain why the buffalos why they should let the apple trees stay!”
Then… it degenerated again. He couldn’t place a word in again. They just kept arguing so loudly he had no chance to say a thing. Not that it would have changed much. His head had started spinning. This whole thing just felt not right.
“Oooh, I have an idea.” A high pitched voice finally jumped in the melee.
His throat twisted into a knot.
--
~ You gotta share… you gotta care! ~
The longer things went on, the more he felt like hyperventilating. Not that the song was bad – though a bit on the sweet tooth side for him – nor that he would ever interrupt a lady’s performance, but really, things were just eerie.
“That was the worst performance we’ve ever seen.”
Unreal.
“And we Appleloosan say you better bring your best, ‘cause we’ll be ready and waitin’!”
“B-but Sheriff…” He said, horrified.
Too late, everypony and everybuffalo had already left, save for his cousin and her friends.
Everything was unfolding exactly the same way it had happened before. D-did he dream of the future? Or was he dreaming about the past?
--
He was recruited to participate in the preparations for the battle. The first time, he hadn’t been enthusiastic, but he couldn’t forego his kin and friends like that.
Now, he was just doing everything told to him as if he was one of those guards in Canterlot. Following order an’ all.
Even the enticing smell of their pies didn’t really shock him out of his stupor, he was just reminded of a sheet of paper and lots of numbers on it.
“Braeburn!” Radish Top chastised him. “Can’t you move faster? Nopony will care if they aren’t perfect this time!”
“You’d be surprised,” he muttered under his breath. “Could end the whole thing by itself.”
“What was that?!” The mare gave him a harsh glare.
“Nothing!” He said quickly, smiling widely. “You know me, Radish. Always helpful and amiable.”
She stared at him for a few seconds, then…
“…Right.” She slowly backed away and returned to her own pie in the making.
Braeburn kept on the smile even after she had stopped paying attention to him. Just in case. Not like it was hard. He smiled like that all the time. Besides, it only made him suffer a little to see their hard work stocked for battle.
Whelp, that’s fifteen bits thrown into the street. Literally.
--
By sunset, the whole town looked about ready for battle. Exactly like two days ago. Yeah, he had lost all pretenses a while ago. Somehow, the whole thing hadn’t happened yet.
Everypony looked just as eager to fight the buffalos they had made peace with less than twenty-four hours ago, except for his dear cuz and her pals.
Thinking back on it, his cheeks still burned with shame when he realized he had let them try to reason with the other Appleloosans all on their own. He should have stuck by their side.
Luckily for him, the mares were all pretty forgiving, or simply hadn’t hold him responsible in the first place, as they had accepted his offer for lodging gratefully.
Just like last time.
Everypony had quickly gone to bed.
Just like last time.
Well, the blue pegasus gal had stayed this time though. He seemed to have missed what had made this part different…
There had been some minor whining from the bedroom, something about only getting the guest’s bed and that it wouldn’t allow for perfect beauty sleep. His chivalry had ordered that he got up to see what he could do to help, but then Applejack had joined in on the fray and set some pendulum straight.
Despite being the second time he had heard it, Braeburn was still a little shocked that she could talk to her friend this way. And that her friend would do the same in retaliation.
“You okay up there?” He called, hoping that he didn’t have to get up from his hard mattress.
“Yes, Braeburn! Rarity’s just being a drama queen!”
This, of course, lead to more protests, but he tuned those out. He just wanted to go to sleep. With any luck, he would wake up and see that it had all been just a weird dream and that they weren’t about to fight the buffalos again!
--
Cock-a-doodle-doo!
Jolting out of bed with springs as leg, he stood up on his hind legs for his daily ritual.
“Good morning, AAAAAAAAAAAPPLELOOSA!”
The greeting of his favorite town in the morning. Ah, life was good.
“CELESTIA’S PLOT!” Somepony with a rash female voice disagreed, hotly it seemed. “Don’t you ponies sleep in the morning?!”
“Rainbow Dash!” Another shouted, sounding absolutely outraged. “How could you be so disrespectful toward the Princess?!”
The sound of bickering intensified upstairs.
“Oops?” He said, grinning sheepishly.
Maybe he should lay it on thick for breakfast as an apology.
--
It was with little hope that he led them back to the Sheriff’s office for more talk on being reasonable.
“NO!” The stallion shouted, ramming his hoof into his desk. “It’s war that those buffalos wants and it’s war they’ll get!”
“But sheriff-!” He protested, only to be cut short by Twilight Sparkle.
“You can’t declare war on the land’s natives! You don’t have that authority! Only the Princess can sanction a declaration of hostility and that hasn’t happened in three hundred years!”
Impressed, he let out a low whistle. His history classes were well behind him. And it wasn’t his best subject anyway. “That’s a long period of peace, for sure. Good thing too.”
“Won’t be staying that way much longer,” Rainbow Dash deadpanned.
Looking at each of the ponies in his office irritably, Sheriff Sylverstar started to grind his teeth together. “I sent a courier for the princess, young mare, but I’m not going to stand around waiting for my town to be destroyed while-”
Gong.
Everypony froze at once.
Gong.
The town’s clock. It was noon!
Gong.
Sheriff Sylverstar bolted past them, running outside to get into position.
Gong.
Braeburn stood there blinking, until he realized they had lost another pony.
Gong.
And it was a pony he really ought to have kept an eye on, now that he thought about it.
Gong.
Where was PINKIE PIE?!
--
~ You gotta share… you gotta care… ~
--
Chaos, chaos everywhere the eye could see! There were pies flying through the air and either taking out a buffalo or splattering pointlessly into the main street.
It all happened so fast. Last time, it had barely lasted more than a few minutes. Still, that had been enough time to cause quite a bit of damage to the town and injure a fair share of the fighters.
Witnessing the whole fight as if in a daze, Braeburn was quite lucky not to have been targeted yet. To be fair, some of the buffalos had been distracted well before they could spot him. For example, Radish Top was currently jumping onto a buffalo and playing rodeo with him.
Another stumbled against a building and made the town’s clock break.
“Wait…” Braeburn whispered, suddenly remembering what would happen next.
Breaking into a run, he dashed straight for the train station.
“Sheriff!” He shouted, seeing that Chief Thunderhooves had spotted the older stallion. “Look out!”
Over the fighting and ambient chaos, Braeburn knew he wasn’t heard. For proof, Sheriff Sylverstar threw away one more pie, unaware that it had been the last in his arsenal. Then, things started to happen in a sequence.
He spotted the chief. He realized his vulnerability. He took off his hat. He closed his eyes. He accepted his fate.
But Braeburn certainly couldn’t accept it. Rough around the edge he may be, the sheriff had still been present, since the very founding of their town! That wouldn’t be how it ended. Not if he had a say in it!
His body coursing with energy and adrenaline, he swoop the first pie he could find, and threw it.
It exploded in the chief’s face in midair.
--
There, the buffalos were leaving, running toward the sunset it seemed. Little Strongheart had left after waving to Rainbow Dash and Applejack again.
Feeling twice as tired as he had been the first time, his apparently prophetic dream doing a number on him, Braeburn just let the calf go again, without a word.
This time, they stayed the night, proving that mentioning the Song was forbidden. Pinkie Pie still looked a little sheepish, but at least this time, the rest of them hadn’t felt so guilty that they had left in a hurry.
Which, basically, meant he and his house had been introduced to a party, Ultra Pink Style.
Whoa Nelly…
--
Cock-a-doodle-doo!
“Good morning, AAAAAAAAPPLELOOSA!”
He really liked saying that in the morning. It just gave him a kick to start the day on the right hoof. Good thing his neighbors were used to it by now…
“Horseapples, the girls!” He clapped his legs over his mouth as fast as possible, but it was much too late now. He’d just ruin their morning by waking them up really early.
“Good job, Braeburn…” He groaned. “You’re getting first prize for best host this year, no doubt about it.”
What was wrong with him? Pa had always told him to treat his guests right. His shouting in the morning was anything but that.
Really, sometimes, he was such a stupid pretty colt.
At least his shiny apologetic smile was a winner. Lots of mares seemed to be a bit more forgiving once he had shown them that one.
…Huh. It sure was taking Applejack and her friends an awful lot of time to start bickering... Had he gotten lucky and somehow not woken them up?
Braeburn’s steps started to take him up to the first floor, but, as the odds dictated, his gaze fell through the window first. The sight made him stop dead in his track.
Okay, he could admit it. This wasn’t just a dream. This was a plain paranormal thingy.
The orchard was intact.
Running upstairs, he saw his worst fears confirmed.
Empty beds everywhere. No signs of being used. Like they hadn’t spent the night in his place at all.
His heart jumped up in his throat.
--
“Bloomberg?!” He called for the tree, having the moronic hope it would answer back.
Nope. No Bloomberg anywhere in the orchard either.
--
Would you look at that? The town’s clock was perfectly operational. After being destroyed twice in three days.
“Hey Braeburn! Why don’t you tell us more about that marefriend that lives in Saddle Arabia?”
Old drunkard, still at the same place.
Check.
Test number four.
“SHERIIIIIIIIIIIIFF!” He yelled, making sure not to move from his spot.
Cold water crashed down on his face, making him involuntarily whinny in shock.
“Shut up, Braeburn!”
He started shaking, but the cause wasn’t the icy water.
--
“Sheriff! Whatever you do today, you mustn’t get into a pissing contest with Chief Thunderhooves.”
“What did you just say to me, sonny?!”
Maybe he should have phrased that better.
--
“Cuz! You’re seven minutes late!” He sounded more panicked than disappointed this time.
“Braeburn, we have more impo-”
“Say, your missing friends wouldn’t happen to be just sleeping in the wagons?” He asked, stiffly pointing back to the train.
“No, they’re m-”
“Or just stayed home due to capricious metabolism? Sure happens to a lot of ponies, y’know?”
“Ah was just about to tell y-”
“Or anything at all except being kidnapped by buffalos?!” He shouted, desperately praying on Celestia’s sun and pretty flanks for a negative reply.
They looked at him with wide eyes after that. Their mouths were hanging slightly below their chin and they probably ate one or two flies that way. Yuck.
“Well…” The yellow one said slowly.
--
This time, he didn’t bother going back to prepare their saddlebags.
“But what if we need to look for them for days?”
“We won’t.” Braeburn rolled his eyes, ignoring the guilt he had at being dismissive of a lady. But it wouldn’t be better to make them lose their times again anyway. “Hay, the buffalos have probably let them go by now. I bet they were just after the tree.”
“Braeburn, this is serious! We can’t just go there unprepared!”
“Cuz, trust your kin a little bit more,” he said, grinning.
Applejack glared a hole in his skull.
--
He didn’t even try to speak to Little Strongheart. At most, his eyes went a little unfocused, as he tried and tried again to come up with anything that made sense about his current situation. At that, the calf had frowned slightly, possibly thinking he was looking down on her.
It didn’t change a thing though. Neither Applejack nor Rainbow Dash would have allowed them to say a word.
Just like before, Little Strongheart left just after Pinkie Pie had asked for an audience with everypony just near the edge of the town. No more details were given, but he had a pretty good idea what it was. Especially when the mare was bouncing around ahead of them, humming a very familiar melody.
So it left them with about a few hours before the declaration of war and the start of the baking… Might as well clarify something.
“Say… Miss Sparkle?”
The unicorn seemed surprised to be called. Her friends reacted no differently.
“Yes… Braeburn?” The inflection sounded more as if she was trying to say his name right, rather than encourage him to continue.
As if he needed more confirmation…
“Not saying that it happened to me, but is there a big flashy spell in your magic and pocus repertoire that can cause ponies to dream they dreamed the future? Twice in a row?”
The mare’s brows furrowed in concentration.
“Dreaming you have dreamt of the future…?”
“Oh, I know that one!” Pink fur completely filled his field of vision, from top to bottom and left to right. A little stun, he didn’t react until it moved and span, revealing a sheepish mare with blue eyes. “Whoops, I was on the wrong side. It happens.”
He sent a confused glance at his cousin’s other friends, but they all gave a weak shrug.
Now he was one hair away from slugging his shoulder and just sigh at the growing madness in his life.
“Anyway,” Pinkie continued, unaware or uncaring of their reactions. “It’s not a dream. The pony gets stuck in a loop and has to do something different from the first one to escape. Otherwise it just goes on and on and on…”
His heart started pumping pure ice into his veins.
“F-forever?” Braeburn stuttered, his mouth going dry.
“FOREVER!”
Author's Note
Alright, folks, before anyone jumps at my throat. I know the episode depicts two different scenes at the buffalo camps at night, but... seriously, it wouldn't take that long for the Mane Six to start looking for Spike and the others. Seriously, they wouldn't wait a whole day. So, there, the timeline is two days. Which is already a break from the Groundhog Day Loops rules. Oh well, never stopped me before.
Now, he wasn’t a coward by any stretch of the imagination, but that one had him fighting back a terrified neigh. His hooves were set firmly against the ground, which was good for his reputation at least, as he would have stumble over had he been moving. There was no strength left in his lower appendages.
In fact, Braeburn felt rather cold, as if the sun had stopped working properly and needed a good buck from the Princess to get it back to optimal service.
The others were eying him with suspicion or horror. The one seemingly the worst off was of course his kin. Her hat had even started falling out of place, as she had reeled back at his reaction.
“Y-yer not pulling mah leg this time, are ye, Braeburn?” She asked faintly.
“What are you talking about, Applejack?!” Rainbow Dash groaned. “A pony that repeats the same days over and over? That’s impossible.”
“As impossible as pulling off a Sonic Rainboom, dear?” Rarity raised an eyebrow at her.
With her posh friend’s words, the pegasus seemed properly chastised, landing on the ground and trying to divert attention from herself.
Luckily for her, Twilight was sensible to her friend’s predicament as much as she was for what might be a strange magical phenomenon. “As much as I want to dismiss Pinkie’s theory as nonsense…”
“Heeeeey!” Said pink mare protested indignantly.
“She is usually right about this sort of thing,” Celestia’s student in all things magical admitted, albeit with gritted teeth and a very sore grimace.
Her reaction got a chuckle out of her friends.
“Hum… Mister Braeburn.” The former supermodel – he was sure now, her cute attitude was just unmistakable! – surprisingly trotted forward. “I-is there anything we can help you with?”
Taken aback, still struggling with digesting the news he had been given, Braeburn stared at the mares assembled. “I… I have no idea. Can you?”
His heart sank further when none of the mares stepped forward, instead glancing at one another with hesitation. Not even Pinkie Pie seemed to know what to do, when she had been the one to offer an explanation!
“Alright, we need to get organized,” Twilight declared, which was followed by an eager nod from the little purple dragon guy and a snicker from Rainbow Dash. “Otherwise we will not solve that problem. Since the apparent solution to the loop would be to change something that went wrong, we should find what needs to be resolved. Now… you were saying you dreamt of the future? What did you see?”
For a moment, Braeburn grew uncomfortable. He remembered… he remembered seeing the look on their faces as the conflict had escalated. There had been anger, frustration… and pure dejection. Here they were, still trying to find the peaceful solution when most other players were on the verge of fighting… it seemed plain mean to dash their hopes like that. What was his problem in comparison to these ladies’ hopes?
“Haha… well…” He started, looking everywhere but toward them. “After you bravely helped prevent armed conflict, the town suddenly discovered it was… huh…”
Sweat rolled down the sides of his face. He was such a terrible liar!
Dancing around them, his eyesight went to every possible explanation, from the train’s track, to his beloved town, to the river, to the… orchard…
“Short on apples!” He shouted suddenly. “No conflict or battle with pies whatsoever!”
Their faces all fell, though only Pinkie and Fluttershy for the reasons he was gunning for. Applejack in particular didn’t appear to believe him in the slightest. In terms of bad liar, he was probably only second to her.
“Braeburn.” She gave him a flat look.
“…Okay, yeah, that’s really what I meant…” He grimaced, lowering his head.
“How did it happen?” Rarity asked, sounding both horrified and scandalized.
Letting out a sigh, Braeburn felt like he had no other choice but to tell the good ol’ truth. “Well, for starters, Pinkie Pie’s singing will cause the Sheriff and the Chief to agree that war is the only way to solve the conflict.”
“What?!” She screamed in dismay, her jaw dropping to the floor and her mane looking dangerously close to deflating completely.
At that, he just felt like he had to say something to make her feel better. She was such a nice bubbly mare after all.
“B-but it wasn’t because they didn’t like it…” The stallion ran to her side to pat her on the back. “They… huh… they just thought it was not lively enough! Their spirits weren’t raised to their limits, y’know? So there was still… war… with apple pies…” He finished dejectedly.
“Oooooh, I see. A difficult public, eeeeeeh?” He didn’t like the smile on her face. Not one measly bit. “This just means I have to bring out my A-game.”
If he could have, he would have blanched. And he did; under his fur, his face was a particularly pale shade of white. This couldn’t be good.
--
They all had to hand it to her. When Pinkie Pie said she went all out, she went all out!
“YOU GOTTA SHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARE!”
He had gone deaf in the first few seconds of the show. Now he was fighting for his life, blinded by seven rays of colored lights, trying not to be blown away by the sound produced by the irresponsibly large speakers. But it was all in vain, his hooves were scraping against the ground at best, and his whole body felt ready to be sent flying.
“She’s taking a deep breath!” A valiant fool took his hooves off his ears to warn the others. However, even in that small moment of respite, the earth shattering bass and piano were covering any and all other sounds. “COVER YOUR EARS!”
“YOOOOOOU GOOOOOTTAAAAAAAAAAAAAA CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAaAaaAaaaaaaaaAAAAaaAAaaaaAAAAAAA-”
Frrizt.
Schtink.
Thank Celestia’s spankable rump! The mic had exploded! They were saved!
Their eardrums were the only casualties so far. But not even the blood tickling down from his ears could stop Braeburn from kissing the blessed ground of Appleloosa for letting him live to see another day.
On stage, the pink disaster in scandalously thigh leather and white facial make-up seemed to just now realized that she had almost caused a few hundred heart attacks. As opposed, of course, to when she was singing so loudly windows were exploding.
Hay, not a pony or buffalo could even stand!
Just like before however, the leaders of the buffalos and the Appleloosans were in agreement on the worst performance ever. Probably as a nod to the effort put behind the preparations though, they did add that it was without a doubt the most audibly impressive thing they had ever heard in their entire lives.
“Now, about those apple trees and how fast you’re going to remove them from our sacred stampeding grounds…” Chief Thunderhooves started, crawling toward his appleloosan counterpart.
“Well, you see, Chief, I don’t think anypony here can really stand or fight.”
“Same time in four days from now?”
“Four days?” The sheriff scoffed behind his moustache. “So that you can stumble your way to our town and say it wasn’t fair? No way, we’ll meet up to massacre each other in six days.”
“Oh now who’s stumbling everywhere crying because their ears hurt?” The dark buffalo tried to butt head with him, but fell out of balance mid-movement. “One week and a half!”
“Two weeks!”
“A month!”
“DEAL!” They shouted simultaneously.
--
Cock-a-doodle-doo!
Braeburn did not need to stand up to know it was the day of his cousin’s arrival all over again. He had been able to hear the rooster after all.
Distantly, he was surprised that Miss Pie’s efforts had been for naught. There certainly hadn’t been any conflict from the villagers or the buffalos. No one really felt up to the task, not even AJ or himself, with their legendary Apple clan work ethic.
Then again, Pinkie Pie had deafened a town, a tribe of buffalo and five out of six bearers of the Elements of Harmony.
…Quite a pyrrhic victory when he thought about it.
Now that he thought about it in fact, he was quite glad that, after a day of suffering in bed with only Pinkie Pie as a nurse for the whole town, his injuries were a thing of the past.
Well, she had said to find a key to this… loop stuff? He could scrub out “Let Pinkie change her song herself” off the list, and perhaps add a big note saying that whoever tried deserved to be kicked where Celestia’s sun don’t shine.
--
“Hey Braeburn! Why don’t you tell us more about that marefriend that lives in Saddle Arabia?”
Urgh, seriously, how had he gotten so unlucky as to fall in love with a mare that he had met in Manehattan, before she left for Saddle Arabia? It was like the setting of a joke! Which it was!
Now pretty much half the town thought he was a coltcuddler.
If only he had learned to lay off the salt when nursing his heartbreaks!
Or alternatively, if old Salt Lick could learn not to get wasted before noon, it would be nice too.
--
“Well, I’ll be! How’d yah know they’d be here, Braeburn?”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing sinister and ominous,” Pinkie Pie said innocently, winking at him.
He bit down a scathing remark and promptly chastised himself for even thinking it. What was wrong with him? That was not a proper stallion’s behavior at all.
Oh sweet apple acres. This weirdy stuff was having an effect on his manners. Dang…
--
“Now… you were saying you dreamt of the future? What did you see?” Twilight Sparkle – he had heard the name a few times already – was looking at him with the same curiosity and concern as before.
“Well, after a certain… event that I must not name in fear of destroying the future or some whacky doodlehickey time thingy, the Sheriff and the Chief will challenge each other and there’s that big fight, but it didn’t end with the whole town razed or the buffalos sent packing.”
“How did it end then?” She asked, leaning forward with a hopeful smile.
“Well, y’see, I kinda threw an apple pie in the chief’s face…”
--
The Plan, as his cuz’s companions had described, was perfect. By using his knowledge of the future, combined with their understanding of friendship, they would be able to skip over the whole fight entirely.
“Chief, before the performance begins, we would like to offer you an Appleloosan pie as a token of appreciation for you and your warriors,” Rarity had said respectfully, bowing with elegance in front of the dark brown buffalo.
A light of curiosity lit up in the chief’s eyes as he turned toward the white mare. The pie she was holding was Braeburn’s masterpiece. Its golden crusted circled around the crispy top, pierced in four spot to let only the most enticing aroma of apple out.
After just a sniff, Chief Thunderhooves’s tongue had subconsciously gone over his lips, his eyes still carefully going over the local delicacy with interest.
Despite himself, Braeburn could not keep a grin off his face as the buffalo leaned closer and closer…
He would taste it! The battle wouldn’t need to happen after all!
“Alright, guys, let’s get this party started!” A young boyish voice swiftly captured their focus.
On stage, the little dragon bowed, unaware of what he had done.
Instantly, as if an illusion or a charm had been broken, the chief’s attention returned to the soon-to-start musical number, as was his duty as leader of his tribe.
“Later, young mare,” he said, his eyes lingering for a split second over the pie. “I shall taste this pie of yours once the conference put together by your friend is over.”
Hearing this, Braeburn felt his eye start to twitch. So much for that!
--
Of course he didn’t pause his declaration of war to taste the pie… Because why make things easy for them?! Even thinking back on his Pa’s sayings didn’t help him squash this bubble of frustration growing in his chest.
At the very least, the chief tasted the pie later, after Braeburn had savagely thrown it in his face during the first seconds of the battle, so there was that...
“How do you like them apples, Chief?!” He had shouted with way too much anger, but, maybe, just a little, this whole ‘repeat the previous day’ was pissing him off.
Still, that time had been completely lost, it felt. It disappeared behind him in a blink. The fact that the orchard was back the next morning had finally convinced him that Miss Pie had been correct.
He was in a loop.
For further proof, he let things happen just like the last time, without changing a single word.
And it all unfolded in the exact same way. The kidnapping, the song number, the war preparations, the song reprise… and the pie in the chief’s face. Everything had fallen into place as if nothing had ever changed. So far… he hadn’t withheld the pie throw that had stopped the whole battle.
The very next morning, they tried again, with the same foolproof Plan they had put together. ‘It could not fail,’ they said. ‘Why hadn’t they thought of that before?’ They also said. Braeburn had to recite his Pa’s sayings not to correct them on their very wrong perception.
Still, this time, he had made sure they were ten minutes early.
“Chief, before the performance begins, we would like to offer you an Appleloosan pie as a token of appreciation for you and your warriors,” Rarity had said respectfully, bowing with elegance in front of the dark brown buffalo.
A light of curiosity lit up in the chief’s eyes as he turned toward the white mare. The pie she was holding was Braeburn’s masterpiece. Its golden crusted circled around the crispy top, pierced in four spot to let only the most enticing aroma of apple out.
After just a sniff, Chief Thunderhooves’s tongue had subconsciously gone over his lips, his eyes still carefully going over the local delicacy with interest.
Despite himself, Braeburn could not keep a grin off his face as the buffalo leaned closer and closer…
He would taste it this time! The battle wouldn’t need to happen after all! At least, unless they were interrupted again, which wouldn’t happen because the pink mare in the sexy dancer dress behind the curtain was not ready ye-!
“Alright, guys.” No, no, no, no, no! “I know this is a little early, but our main singer said that if she didn’t start now, it would be useless, so… we’ll just go right away!”
On stage, the little dragon bowed, unaware of what he had done.
Instantly, as if an illusion or a charm had been broken, the chief’s attention returned to the soon-to-start musical number, as was his duty as leader of his tribe.
“Later, young mare. I shall taste this pie of yours once the conference put together by your friend is over.”
It was a good thing nopony had looked his way. His grin turned disbelieving wide open mouth had opted for a final metamorphosis into a superbly murderous snarl.
And on top of everything, her performance was even worse than usual!
--
Cock-a-doodle-doo!
“G’d m’rning Applelooooosa…”He grumbled into his pillow.
There had to be something he was missing. Something really really important. Obviously, if it had been just stopping the war, then the eardrums explosion event should have been enough on its own.
No, there had to be a detail he was missing. It wasn’t just stopping the war. After all, the original chain of events led to a peaceful arrangement, even if their apples supplies were stretched thinner than a rattlesnake on a diet…
“Oh listen to yourself, Braeburn,” the stallion said to himself. “It’s a beautiful day, a brand new day with a brand new chance to better your neighbors relations with the buffalos. Nothing to be upset about!”
Satisfied by his own pep talk, the energetic Appleloosan grinned, trotting in his kitchen with gusto. Hay, there was this song bubbling down his throat. Holding nothing back, he hummed, before stopping dead in his track.
~You gotta shaaaaaare… you gotta caaaaaaare…~
Oh no… the song was stuck in his head!
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!”
--
“Miss Pie, would you mind coming here for just a few minutes?”
“Sure thing, Braeburn,” she replied, rapidly batting her eyelashes innocently. “But you must be quick about it! My musical number will start in about forty-two seconds.”
“Oh, it won’t take long,” he said with a touch of steel in his voice.
“Okay, then I’ll follow you in this dark alley far away from the stage where nopony will be able to see what you’re doing.” She giggled, as if in on a joke nopony could possibly get. “Or even hear me scream.”
His eye twitch, but that didn’t stop him from following her into the shade of the buildings. Conspicuously, he glanced at the rope he had hidden there.
--
“There you go! No musical number to piss them both off!” Braeburn said joyfully. “Now, the chief won’t get enraged tomorrow!”
Wasn’t the world a wonderful place? Ah, he could hear the little scorpions and all the good ol’ rattlesnakes making their beautiful music.
“Ain’t the desert sky just beautiful, Salt Lick?” He shouted to the drunken old stallion.
Said old fart simply looked at him as if he was off his rocker. Which he was, with joy!
Ah, now that the main obstacle was gone, they could finally get to an understanding! There would be peaceful negociations, everyone would be reasonable and ponies and buffalos alike would be able to go on their merry ways as if they hadn’t been on the verge of armed conflict. It would be great!
Braeburn was feeling so joyful, in fact, that he was trotting at a slow pace, taking in the beautiful scenery offered by his favorite town in the whole Equestria.
Ah, nothing could quite get a smile like the one he got every time he looked at the sunny sky, or the peaceful whistle of the wind as sole background noise. Hay, even if he strained his earing, there was nothing else for him to hear but th-
~ You gotta shaaaaare…~
Eenope! Eenope, nope, nope, noooooooooooooope, nope. Nope. His ears were playing a trick on him. Pinkie Pie was solidly tied up in a dark alley and officially unable to perform! He had heard the song enough times now that he was just imagining it!
~You gotta caaaare… ~
No! Lalalalala! That was impossible! He had tied her up to a bunch of anvils from the blacksmith’s place (which he really had to remember to thank for the rent)!
Panicked, the earth pony put his all into a breathtaking sprint toward the stage, where he could heard Pinkie’s singing voice… and something else…
Boink. Crash. Boink. Crash.
~ You gotta shaaaaaare… you gotta caaaaare… ~
Boink. Boink. Boink.
Crash. Crash. Crash.
Wait…
Even when Braeburn arrived at the scene for the negotiations, his brain cells chose mass suicide rather than try to comprehend the strange spectacle in front of him.
He wasn’t dreaming. Behind her springing, bouncing, elastic body, she dragged around five black anvils, which reflected the desert’s sunlight harshly into the audience’s eyes. Some of her friends, the white unicorn, in particular, seemed displeased with this magnifying item sending more light and heat her way. Her lips were glued together in a displeased pout that reminded Braeburn of his cuz’s face when she ate any fruit that wasn’t an apple.
Even with this kind of glare aimed at her, Pinkie Pie’s energy was inexhaustible. On a single leg, she cartwheeled mid note, her troop of dancers immediately jumping back to dodge the incoming anvils.
“You know…” Someone said to his left, and he thought the voice might belong to Little Strongheart. “At first, I was appalled… but it’s kinda impressive when you look at her jump all tied up like that…”
Looking closer, he managed to catch a glimpse of the calf, as she looked up to one of her older compatriot. Said warrior was eying the stage with an air of respect.
“That pink mare is strong. And dedicated.”
“Yeah, that was not a bad musical number.” The young buffalo nodded, with the tone of someone that had actually appreciated the experience.
For some reason, even if that was a total failure, he still felt like smiling.
--
Cock-a-doodle-doo!
“YOU GOTTA SHARE, APPLELOOOOOSA!”
--
It now seemed evident that the pink mare was more of an unstoppable force of nature than a pony, so his new plan would have to involve working around the song of war rather than stopping it from coming into existence.
The only question was… how should he do it?
