You are exhausted, dehydrated, and overwhelmingly hot. And you’ve been walking for miles.

The mountains, far off in the distance, have not gotten any closer to you over the past few hours. With every step you take towards them, they seem to take a step away from you.

So it goes in the endless expanse of this dry wasteland.

You walk along the railroad tracks, quietly begging to whatever deity that may or may not exist that a train will pass by.

But that won’t happen. It is too late in the day for a train to run on these rails. The sun will set soon.

You are tired.

You silently curse your luck. You would do so out loud but your throat is much too dry for that. Of course you would somehow end up in this situation.

Your lips are dry. Your mouth is dry. Your surroundings are dry.

This place sucks.

You should have stayed on the east coast, where you have been living for months. Moving westward was probably a poor decision.

There is water on the east coast. And no deserts. It’s everything you could want.

You look down and see the pieces of wood spaced evenly between the rails. Earlier, you started counting every piece of wood you passed, but lost count after a while.

Besides, your head hurts too much for that degree of concentration.

The sand, which is all around you and is nearly inescapable, is much too hot to walk on with bare feet.

Whatever happened to your shoes? You don’t even have your socks.

You did tie your shirt around one of your feet, though. But that was uncomfortable and too hot. It didn’t make a difference anyway. The sand still burned your feet badly even with the minimal protection.

The bottoms of your feet probably don’t even have skin on them anymore. You wince with every step because of the burning pain.

Walking on the wood between the rails is uncomfortable, but it’s your best option. You can either walk on the sand, the wood, or the metal rails.

The wood is definitely the most preferable option.

Walking appears to be getting more and more difficult the longer you do it. But what other choice do you have?

You could slide across the desert on your stomach like a penguin, but the burns you would receive would be terrible. And sliding is probably more difficult to do than walking.

Perhaps you should have walked in the other direction.

There are only two directions to go when walking upon the rails, as you are. Maybe you chose the wrong one?

There is a chance that if you started your walk by going in the opposite direction that you would have reached civilization by now.

Maybe not, though.

That direction could be equally as hopeless, and that thought is surprisingly comforting. Thinking that you don’t have a chance regardless of what you do almost relaxes you. At least, with that thought, you don’t feel stupid or guilty about going this way.

Your leg catches on the rail and you fall off the track and into the sand, face first. You groan loudly in despair before turning over on your back.

The sky is darkening and the sun is setting. It will get colder soon.

You make a half-assed attempt at standing. You place your elbows firmly into the sand and push.

But your arms prematurely give up and you flop back into the sand.

May as well just lay here. Lay here and die.

Or at least sleep. You might even wake up.

==========

You wake up. You would be surprised if you had the energy for it.

You look up at the sky.

Feeling the ground beneath you, you can still easily tell that you are in the desert. The sand feels cooler now, though.

It is nighttime. The sun has set and the sky is full of stars.

Your lips are still very dry. You lick them, wanting to moisten them, just a little, just to get a little more comfortable.

But your lips don’t get any wetter. Your mouth is as dry as the desert wasteland you have been wandering through.

When was the last time you drank anything? It couldn’t have been all that long ago. But, surely you have dehydrated yourself in this desert from sweating. You have been sweating a lot. It doesn’t typically get anywhere near this hot back where you are from.

Oh well.

You rest your weary head on the sand.

You fall asleep, for what you assume is the final time.

==========

You slowly open your eyes. You vision is blurry, but manageable, and you feel dizzy. It’s a good thing you are already lying down.

It’s strange how nauseous you feel, considering you only just woke up.

You pick your head up, and almost immediately feel like you’re going to vomit all over yourself.

You flop you head back down, but…

It doesn’t land on sand. It lands on something much softer.

Strange.

You don’t recall bringing a pillow along with you. The only things you had were whatever clothes you happened to be wearing at the time.

You also don’t recall bringing a blanket.

Very strange.

With your impressive observational skills, you determine that you are, in fact, no longer in the desert.

How wonderful.

You’re lying inside somewhere. There is a roof above your head. It is brown and simple; it’s made of wood and not painted.

Turning your head, you notice that the rest of the room is like that, as well. The walls are partially decorated, but primarily unpainted.

The blue door, to your left, has cherries painted on it, as does the wall adjacent to the door. Somepony here must think cherries are aesthetically pleasing.

Next to your bed is a simple nightstand with a purple lamp standing atop it. The blanket and pillows you are using are pink.

Clearly, this is somepony’s guest room.

This is quite the surprise. A very pleasant one, at that.

To whom this room belongs, you cannot say. You cannot even guess.

You don’t know anypony out west. Not a single pony. So where are you?

…

There is no telling. Not right now, anyway.

The sheets on the bed are very smooth. You take notice of the fact that you are not wearing a shirt, and can feel the smooth fabric on your skin.

In addition to not wearing a shirt, you are also not wearing any pants. You are, however, wearing a towel, that has been wrapped around your waist.

That means somepony has taken your clothes, for whatever reason. You doubt they will fit into them.

It feels nice, though; not wearing any clothing. Wearing something would make you too hot, and you have certainly had enough heat for one lifetime.

You do wonder where your clothes could have possibly run off to. But that is a problem for later.

The shades on your window are halfway up. It appears to be early morning. You must have just missed the sunrise. How sad.

What a wonderful time it is for a nap, you think.

You turn on your side, which is only a little uncomfortable, and close your eyes.

You don’t know where you are, or who has your clothes, but this is happiest you have been in quite some time.

==========

Your eyes open once again.

The sun is much higher in the sky, now, and sunlight is pouring into the open window, keeping you awake.

It’s a nice day, though. A wonderful day to be inside and not dying in the desert. It’s brighter than you would prefer, but that’s fine.

You’re thirsty. Not quite as much as you were before, but still enough to cause concern.

You need a drink.

Time to get up, you suppose. It would be best for you to find a bathroom and stick your head under the sink. You never want to be thirsty again.

Just as you begin turning in the bed, you spot a glass of water with ice cubes in it standing on the bedside table.

Praise Jesus!

There is no hesitation as you reach for it, grab on, and drink the entire thing down in a matter of seconds. The brainfreeze that follows feels surprisingly pleasant.

Your throat feels much better, too. It’s not fully healed, but it does much, much better.

As a whole, you feel fantastic! Much better than you did before, no doubt.

Somepony has taken good care of you.

A stranger.

Somepony you have never met before, and have probably never heard of, has taken care of you and given you a place to stay.

That is extremely generous.

You are sleeping in somepony’s guest room. You didn’t even ask to be here, but it is great that you are.

It is a lovely room. Somepony has clearly put effort into making this room clean and comfortable.

And that pony has allowed you to stay here, for some unknown reason. It is very kind of them to do that.

You have to thank whoever it was that put you here, even if they did steal your clothes. And, of course, you must find a way to repay that particular pony.

For all you know, you could be lying dead in the middle of the desert if it wasn’t for the owner of this house. You have to find them.

With a newfound determination, you turn on the bed and place your feet on the floor. You see that both of your feet have been individually bandaged.

Thankfully, those are the only parts of you that seem injured. You put a lot of pressure on them as you begin to stand before sitting back down again.

The pressure hurts a little.

Before you can decide what to do next, you spot a wooden cane leaning up against the bedside table.

Damn.

Whoever put you up here thought of everything.

You reach over and grab the cane. It’s a small thing, but it will do. You stand up slowly before looking out of the window.

Outside, you see a seemingly endless expanse of trees, stretching as far as you can see. These trees, though, have one interesting feature, which is that the all of their leaves are various shades of pink.

You can honestly say you have never seen something quite like it. It’s a wondrous sight.

All of the trees are absolutely covered in cherries.

You have never been on an orchard before, but now, seeing this, you wish you had. The sight is breathtaking.

No ponies are seen, though. You spy lots of cherries, but no ponies. Perhaps they are somewhere else in the home.

You must find them for there is much to be discussed.

You slowly shuffle out of the room while taking fairly frequent pauses, leaning on the wooden cane. It will take some time to get used to this.

==========

The house is empty. There is not a pony soul to be found anywhere, and the house is rather large.

It is very well decorated in here. A lot of ponies must live here, considering the size of this place.

But where are they?

Working, you think. The orchard does seem rather large. They could be anywhere.

You best get looking.

You open the screen door and hobble out onto the porch, and, unfortunately, find no one.

‘Oh well,’ you think to yourself. ‘They must be out in the fields. Best go out and find them. Much to discuss.’

Hobbling around the place is difficult, especially when you reach the grass. The ground is uneven but you are managing it, somehow.

It would help if you had shoes. Or any clothes at all; which you do not. You are barely getting around in nothing more than a bath towel.

Of course, ponies are naked all the time, and many of them have often questioned you as to why you wear clothes so often. Ponies don’t seem to care whether you’re naked or not, they just get curious.

You could walk around this orchard wearing absolutely nothing and nopony who saw you would probably care, but you elect to keep the towel on. It makes you feel better.

You are grateful that you have the towel. It makes you happy.

There is a dirt path running through the orchard. You assume walking on that would be much easier on you than wandering through the trees aimlessly.

Yep. Taking the path is definitely the best idea.

Your bandages are bound to get rather dirty, but it will be worth it.

Setting off on the dirt path, you begin your search for somepony. You don’t know who yet, but you’re bound to find them.

==========

After a few minutes of walking, you are beginning to feel sore. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to get out of bed. You probably would have met whoever allowed you into their home later this evening.

But it’s the principle that matters. You have to thank somepony for this. You owe them your life, basically. The very least you could do is thank them.

Which you are trying to do now, but that task is proving more difficult than you originally anticipated, as not a single pony has been spotted. You haven’t seen a pony at all in days.

Maybe they all died and you are back in the world of humans.

It’s doubtful, but weirder things have happened.

You look to the left of the path and see trees. That’s just about it. You look to the right side and see- oh look!

More trees.

That’s all there is here. Trees and cherries.

You didn’t even know there were yellow cherries, but there are a great many of them growing in this orchard. Grand.

Hobbling down this road sucks.

Finally, after a great deal of searching, you spot a brown stallion with an even darker brown mane and a basket as a cutie mark. He is working, not too far away from you.

“Excuse me!” you call out, as you attempt to make your way over to him. Unfortunately for you, he is not on the path, so you are forced to leave the semi-even path to get to him. The area around the path is especially uneven and littered with sticks and fallen branches.

The brown stallion does not seem to have heard you. He is walking around, a little ways off the path you are on, picking up large fallen sticks and placing them into a large bucket.

“Excuse me!” you call again, finally getting his attention. He looks up at you curiously, stopping his work. You gradually meander your way on over to the stranger. “Hi,” you say, out of breath from the arduous walk.

“Afternoon,” he replies evenly, his face not showing any emotion. He looks you up and down, probably noticing that you are walking around in a towel.

“Are you the owner of this orchard?” you ask, wanting to find who is in charge around here. You just assume that whoever owns the orchard also own the house you woke up in.

The pony shakes his head. “Nope.”

There is moment of silence. ‘Is that all he is going to say?’

Apparently yes.

“Um, can you tell me where the owner of this orchard is?” you ask.

“Why do you need to know?”

“I…” You’re not entirely sure how to explain it. “He has done me a favor, and I wish to thank him.” Yeah. That’s the best way to put it without being dramatic.

“Well, she,” he emphasizes, “should be just down the way there.” He motions with a hoof down the path you were just walking on.

“Oh,” you say bashfully, previously unaware of the gender of this kind individual. “Thank you.”

You turn and continue on your way after successfully making it back to the path. That was the first contact you have had with another living being in a couple of days. What a delightful experience it was.

At least now you know that you are looking for a mare. You have no idea what she looks like, but how many mares work on farms, anyway?

If you had to guess, you would think little to none. So, you assume that the first mare you see is probably the owner of this land.

And it does not take long at all to find her.

After hobbling only a few short minutes, you spot a mare a little off the path, who appears to be inspecting the trees. You instantly get the idea that she is, indeed, the owner of this property.

Your first clue is that her cutie mark is two red cherries, and this is a cherry orchard. It may not be the best assumption, but you think you are good with this one.

If what you assumed earlier is anything to go on, then she owns this property because she is the only mare you can find.

This particular mare you see ahead of you has a light-cream colored coat. She has a curly red mane and tail with darker streaks of red running through it. She has big green eyes, crimson eyeshadow, and a pink bow tied around her neck. Finally, she is wearing a golden headband with cherries on it.

She does not seem to have noticed you, as she seems rather engrossed in her work.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” you say as you get closer to the mare. She looks over at you before her eyes go wide. “Hello. I’m-”

“Oh my goodness!” she exclaims, startling you for a moment before trotting over to you. “Now just what are you doing out of bed?”

“I, uh,” you stutter, simply standing where you are and watching her get closer to you. “I just wanted to-”

She quickly reaches you and pushes your midsection with her head, moving you in the direction in which you came.

“Come on, dear,” she says in a southern-sounding accent, leading the way back to the house. “Let’s get you back into bed. You shouldn’t be walking around out here in your condition.”

Not knowing what else to do, you hobble on back with this mare… whoever she is. You don’t even know who this is.

After a just a few moments of getting your footing, you try to talk to the mare with you. You begin simply by introducing yourself, though you do stutter through it.

“Oh! I’m sorry, dear, I’ve been having quite the week. I am Cherry Jubilee, owner of Cherry Hill Ranch.”

And there you have it. Finally, the owner of this place has been found.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Jubilee.” What wonderful names ponies have. “I assume you are the owner of the house down this path?”

“That I am!”

You cut in before she can say anymore. “Ms. Jubilee, I would really like you to know how thankful I am. It is incredibly generous for you to have allowed me to stay in your home.”

“Think nothing of it,” she says as the both of you slowly walk along the path, side by side. “You are welcome to stay as long as you like.”

“That is very kind of you to offer, ma’am,” you say, surprised. “But I promise I will not overstay my welcome. I’ll be on my way as soon as I am able.”

“If you insist. But please do not feel as though you are unwelcome here. Everypony in Dodge Junction is like one big family.”

“Oh. Is that where I am? Dodge Junction?”

She nods with a smile. “That you are, dear! Dodge Junction! We don’t get many visitors out here. It doesn’t seem to be a very popular tourist destination.”

The both of you chuckle at that. Of course a small town in the middle of the desert is not the ideal place to be, but it could be worse. A lot worse, given your case.

“So,” you begin, gesturing around at all of the luscious trees, “all of this is in Dodge Junction?” You look down at the smaller pony and she nods back up at you. “Wow. That is a little surprising.”

“Oh, I do get that a lot. Most ponies cannot believe such an orchard is thriving in the desert. You know, when I first started out here, most ponies laughed at me. Nopony thought I could succeed, so nopony followed me out here to Dodge Junction. But after many years of hard work, this is what I have.”

She gestures around herself at all of the trees. There are a great many.

“Of course,” she continues, “there is more to the story than that, but that can be saved for another time if you actually want to hear it.”

“I most certainly would, Ms. Jubilee,” you say with a smile.

She returns it. “Thank you, dear. But that will have to wait until the work out here is done.”

“What work is going on out here, exactly?” you ask.

“It is almost time to pick the cherries! My favorite time of the season. They are ripe and juicy, and given just a few more days of growing, they will be ready to pick and ship all over Equestria.”

“You ship all over Equestria?”

“That we do! Cherry Hill Ranch ships cherries to anyone willing to buy ‘em. We are the largest cherry supplier this side of Canterlot!”

“That’s great!”

“I am glad you think so,” she says as the both of you come up to the house. “This is home! Watch your step, hon, the ground is a little uneven up here.”

You mind where you step, as you have been, and re-enter Ms. Jubilee’s home.

“I am sorry you only have that towel to walk around in,” she says, guiding you along. “Your clothes were filthy, but I will finish washing them later.”

So that’s where your clothes went. You’ve only met this mare and you love her! Look at all she has done for you already, and you just only told her your name.

Remembering where to go, you walk towards the staircase leading the second story.

“Be careful on the stairs,” she cautions, staying next to you the entire time. Surprisingly, you feel her gently supporting you from behind as you attempt to climb the stairs.

Normally, such an act would not be surprising, but in this case, it is. Ms. Jubilee is helping you up by pushing on your rump with her head.

She doesn’t mean anything by it, sure enough, but a practical stranger touching your butt is just a little startling. Just a little. But, of course, this is the best way an earth pony could assist you.

You finally reach the top of the stairs and find your room. Ms. Jubilee, the kind mare that she is, walks you over to the bed and helps you in, despite you not really needing any outside help.

You thank her as you get settled in.

“I will get you a glass of water. Be right back.” She leaves the room for a moment to refill your cup.

You still have a lot of questions to ask. Like how did she find you? What was she doing in the middle of the desert?

You have not even begun to express your gratitude to the nice mare, but there will be time for that.

“Now,” she says, coming back in and placing your glass on the bedside table, “we have much to discuss, dear, but that will have to wait a little bit longer. You get your rest now, and I’ll be back to check up on you in a bit.”

“Thank you, Ms. Jubilee,” you respond, getting comfortable.

She pulls down your blinds and the room gets very dark. “Get some rest. We will talk later.” She smiles brightly at you before exiting the room.

There is something a little off about this place. Why are you here? Why is Cherry so nice? How can you grow trees in the desert?

The answers to those questions will be found later. At least now Ms. Jubilee knows that you are thankful for being alive.

You can talk with her later. But now, a nap.

Author's Note

Thank you for reading the story and not just jumping to the clop.
Leave feedback! I need it.