I sit there for a while, wonderin' if there's some sorta protocol for situations like this 'cuz if there is, I don't have a darn clue what it is though it'd be mighty handy if I did. I also notice that she smells like flowers. I ain't a botanist though so I don't know what kinda flowers... Definitely the prettiest kind as I don't think that she's a mare who'd settle for anythin' less than the prettiest.
She's light. Her weight against my shoulder is nothin' much really and it certainly ain't a bother. Maybe that's why I ain't moved yet...
I glance over to her. She's a slight and delicate unicorn, pale and almost fragile lookin'. She's wrapped up in a big coat with a furred neck or some such that nearly reaches her chin and a thick scarf that's tucked neatly into that big coat's collar.
She looks set to battle a blizzard but then again, she's still small against me even in all the layers, so it ain't no wonder she's gotta wrap up to fight the cold off.
She's... stunnin', would probably be the best word. Maybe even to modellin' standards. She's sat with her legs folded neatly, her forehooves restin' on her lap and her curled tail wrapped around her. I feel the urge to correct mah slouch but ignore it in favour of remaining still so as not to disturb her. The thought of wakin' her strikes me as a really unpleasant one though I ain't sure why. Maybe it's 'cuz she looks so peaceful... Yet tired all the same.
There are the slightest hints of dark bags beneath her eyes, skilfully disguised under a dustin' o' make up of some kind. I can't help but wonder why she looks so tired. What has she been doin' to make her so exhausted as to fall asleep on a stranger's shoulder?
She ain't a labourer, that's for sure. I can't begin to picture her workin' fields like I do. Besides, though I ain't one for fashion, she clearly takes pride in how she looks. I don't know the name sewn onto her coat pocket, some fancy lookin' signature I can't comprehend, but I know that havin' one means it was probably darn expensive.
She strikes me as somepony creative, maybe an artist of some kind.
That'd explain why she's in Manehatten anyway. There's been a bunch of events and such going on the past few weeks celebrating the coming Spring with music and things. Festivals, really. They're probably a feast for a creative mind.
Speakin' o' feast, I'm getting' kind hungry. But reachin' for the apple in my bag would involve movin' and riskin' wakin' the unicorn beside me.
I glance over to the clock on the other side of the station and find that it's nearin' on midnight.
Oh how I hate gettin' these late night trains but Aunt and Uncle Orange jus' wouldn't have none about me leavin' sooner than absolutely necessary so that I'd get all the time I could with 'em. They're awful good folk and all but they can make things a mite inconvenient sometimes...
But then maybe I wouldn't be sat in this empty station with this mare leanin' on me and mah mind still uncertain as to what I should do 'cuz mah eyes are too busy starin' at 'er.
Hell, I've been starin', ain't I? And I'm doin' it again.
Snap out of it, AJ! You're gon' make yourself look like a darn creeper or somethin'!
I tear my gaze away and try to find something else to focus on but there ain't nothin' that's half as interesting as this mare leanin' on me.
I glance back to 'er.
I've never seen anypony so... pure lookin'. Maybe it's her coat that does it. It's whiter than the snowflakes falling slowly from the clouds above our heads and there ain't so much as a smudge of dirt to be seen on 'er.
Now I'm feelin' a little self-conscious. I know I ain't the cleanest mare around but this unicorn looks like she jus' showered... then walked on air to get here so that she didn't dirty those dainty hooves o' hers.
Maybe I should move. Be subtle about it. She probably won't be none too pleased waking up leant on somepony who ain't near as clean or prim and proper as she is.
Oh Tartarus, what if she's one o' those types? Eugh...
Wait a second there, Applejack, ya' can't go assumin' things like that jus' because she's absurdly clean and wearin' designer clothes and radiates grace and poise even when she's sleepin'... Nah, ya' can't go assumin' things about ponies! T'ain't honourable. She could be nice...
I look back down to her.
… That'd be way too good to be true though.
Hold on another minute there, what are ya' thinkin'?! Why's it matter if she's got an attitude? Ya' ain't never gon' see 'er again anyways.
For some reason, I don't like that thought.
It's startin' to irritate me not knowin' the reasons.
The mare fidgets a tad beside me and I'm all prepared for her to pelt me around the skull for darin' to have mah dirty hooves within a mile of 'er, even though they're clean.
But it doesn't happen 'cuz she doesn't wake. I look to her and find that she weren't fidgetin' at all, she's shiverin'.
Really, stranger? You're actually somehow managin' be cold in that cocoon o' clothin'?
I can't help but frown as she trembles delicately.
What's the protocol for this, huh? I stayed sat 'ere so as not to wake 'er and that's understandable but can I really jus' sit 'ere and let 'er freeze?
Consarn it...
I look to mah saddlebags. There's a blanket in there. Aunt Orange figured I might wanna nap on the train ride back and wouldn't lemme leave without the blanket. Sometimes, it's like she forgets I'm a full grown mare. Though even more truthfully, I didn't wanna take it for fear it'd get ruined.
I carefully lean down to grab the- She wriggles beside me restlessly, murmuring somethin' and a sigh escapes me as I lean back in my seat. Great... This is gettin' real stupid now, AJ. How ya' gon' do this?
I glance to the mare against me briefly then adjust mah seatin' position a tad before I take a breath. Applebuck season don't cause this much stress...
As quickly yet carefully as I can, I hook mah back right hoof under my saddlebag and lift it up to within reach. I can only be glad that nopony's around to see me make a mule o' myself... No offence to mules, 'o course.
I release the breath that I'd forgotten I was holdin' then smile a tad as I flip open the left side bag and pull out the blanket, sparing Aunt Orange a silent thanks as I do.
I look back to the shivering mare beside me. Her teeth are chattering now.
Carefully, I place the quilted blanket over her, wrapping it around her small form before I lean back, restin' mah head on the seat with mah head facin' the sky and I watch the snow fall.
It's a peaceful night. So quiet that I can almost hear the snow hittin' the ground. Especially now that the mare beside me ain't shiverin' no more.
The next sigh I give is one of contentment.
It probably seems strange to somepony who doesn't understand what goes into farm work but silence like this ain't all that common. There's always something clucking or mooing or there's a set of hooves strikin' bark or haulin' a plough...
So it ain't all that quiet on Sweet Apple Acres. And I like this quiet. As I sit here on this bench with this mare I don't know the name of and the chill of winter just about seepin' into mah hooves. It's nice... real nice and I smile 'cuz of it.
Naturally, it doesn't last long. I hear the chug of a train engine and the clank of it's approach over aged rails and some part of me wishes that I could stay where I am.
But then mah family's waitin' for me and to sit out here all night would be darn silly of me.
I look over to the unicorn next to me and spend a second just lookin' at her and wonderin' not for the first time just what such a frail thing like her is doin' out on a night like this alone. Then I frown... 'cuz I gotta wake 'er and she looks so darn peaceful.
It ain't hard for me to decide that I'm gon' do mah best to not wake her like I do Apple Bloom every mornin'. I ain't quiet by nature really but I don't want scare the blazes out the poor lady.
So I clear mah throat lightly then crane mah neck around to better see 'er.
Wow... She is beautiful...
Darn.
Mah eyes widen at mah own traitorous thoughts and I nearly slap mahself for good measure too before thinkin' better of it.
I take a breath. Jus'... wake the mare, get on the train and then ya' can forget all about this stupid thing.
“Excuse me... ma'am?” I say softly.
“No... darling... I'm quite alright... I'm not even... sleepy...” She mumbles in response and I blink before forcing back a smile. That voice couldn't be any sweeter if she were tryin'.
“Pardon me, ma'am... but Ah think yer trains comin'...” I continue, mah voice low so as not to startle her and she murmurs incoherently for a moment, her eyes fluttering before opening fully and she blinks at me sleepily.
Sweet Celestia, those eyes o' hers. I can't even begin to name the shade o' blue they are...
I snap out my daze and can only hope that it's dark enough for mah blush not to be too apparent.
She peers at me thoughtfully for a moment.
“... You have the most charming accent,” She says.
Well... That certainly ain't helpin' matters. Mah face reddens and I smile sheepishly.
“... Thank ya', ma'am... So do you,” I reply and she smiles at me in a dainty but real way.
Why couldn't she be one of those types? That'd be easier to handle than a beautifully classy and friendly mare. It ain't meant to happen. It breaks half a dozen laws o' nature for sure.
She looks between us then kind of winces away from me like one of us has committed some heinous crime.
“I'm terribly sorry for falling asleep on you. That was very improper of me,” She blurts, her face turning the most lovely shade of pink. Mah next smile comes easier than the last.
“That's quite alright, ma'am,” I assure her before realising just how loud the sound of the approaching train has gotten and we both look towards the rails and watch it pulling into the station. I rise to mah hooves and sling mah saddlebags on as the train hisses to a stop beside us.
Then I look back to the pretty mare who is holding mah blanket in her hooves, gazing at it with a furrowed brow, clearly deep in thought.
“Ma'am?” I coax gently and she blinks, looking up to me.
“Forgive me, darling. I was just admiring the stitching,” She explains. "Can I assume this is yours?" She adds, holding it out to me as her magic, a pale blue, takes hold of her saddlebags and places them on her back.
I hesitate a moment.
“Why don't ya' keep it? It gets cold on these night trains,” I offer without a second thought and she looks back to the blanket, her gaze uncertain.
“Oh well, thank you for letting me borrow it but it looks like a lot of love went into this...” She says and I smile at her warmly. I can't help but feel proud that she noticed that it was special.
“Sure did. Ah helped mah ma make it a long while ago.”
“Then I couldn't possibly-” She begins in protests.
“Oh but you have to, ma'am,” I interrupt gently. “Mah Ma'd tan mah hide brown if she were here to see me let a lovely mare such as yerself go cold.”
Then the unicorn looks from me to the blanket and back again and whatever she sees, makes her decide to nod.
“Alright then,” She concedes with a small and pretty smile. “Thank you,” She adds and she makes it sound like it means a lot more to her than it really has to.
Our train whistles impatiently.
For some reason, neither of us move for a moment.
“Where are you sitting?” She asks. For a brief moment, I'm confused then I realise what she means.
“Standard,” I return with a knowin' smile and a wink. I take a step back from her, some kind of weird confidence emerging as I walk backwards towards the rear of the train. “And Ah'm guessin' that you're the kind of classy lady who rides in the First Class carriage, am Ah right?” I add playfully and she laughs a tad.
“Even if you were right, which you are, it was terribly rude of you to assume,” She says, though her reproving tone is light and not at all serious as she walks down towards the other end of the train, looking back over her shoulder at me.
“Ah thought it was a compliment! After all, you're a first class kinda mare!” I call and her smile widens. I hop onto the train then lean back out and tip my Stetson to her, my face warming. “It was a pleasure meetin' ya', ma'am!” I add and she peers back out her own door.
“And you too, Miss Apple! Have a safe trip!”
And then she's gone and I'm left with a warm face, a goofy smile, a thuddin' heart and a million questions... such as how in the heck did she even know mah name?
