The large train rumbled down the track, four stallions at the forefront pounding away tirelessly in their harnesses. Behind the train, dust billowed out endlessly across the flat landscape, blending sky and earth together into the same beige wash. In a window of one of the train’s cars, a filly’s head popped up into one of the train windows and searched the outside world. Her face fell from a hopeful grin to a disappointed frown, and she snorted at the never-changing scene outside.
Bluebonnet dropped back to her haunches on the train’s bench seat with a grunt of annoyance. Initially, the train ride had been the most exciting thing the filly could have ever dreamt of, but after four days on the rails, her near-inexhaustible supply of good cheer was beginning to wane.
She looked across to the opposing bench where her family sat. “Papa, how much longer is it going to be?”
The chocolate-colored stallion lowered the letter he’d read Celestia-only-knew how many times already and gave her a look of patient suffering. “I know it’s been a long trip, but we’re almost there. If we’re on schedule, we should be there within the hour.”
His wife let out a sigh, nuzzling the five-year-old filly sitting at her side. Bluebonnet’s father glanced over to his mate. “Are you all right, Marigold?”
“I’m okay. It’s just this move is getting to me. It’s such a long way to move, across most of Equestria,” Marigold said in a flat, resigned voice. “But I know why we’re going, and I couldn’t possibly bear to wait back home while you were away for a year or more.”
He smiled and hugged his wife with one hoof. “I know you’ll miss the mountains, dear—I will, too—but this is just too important to pass up,” he said, waving the letter about. “Braeburn needs our help. All of Appleloosa needs our help, and truth be told, you’re just as good at these things as I am.”
Marigold gave him a wry smile. “You are a consummate liar, Heartwood,” she accused, sticking her tongue out a bit.
Bluebonnet giggled at how silly her parents were acting. So often, they seemed like big foals to the youngster, teasing each other and laughing. As the sadness in the group dissipated just slightly, the conductor came down the aisle, calling out the stop ahead.
“Appleloosa, ten minutes!”
Bluebonnet immediately jumped to her hooves and planted herself right against the window, straining to catch sight of their new home. Gradually, the dust and cacti began to give way to rough grassland and scrub brush as the train entered the river valley where Appleloosa had been founded almost ten years ago. The train shuddered ever so slightly as the pulling stallions slowed, letting the train begin to rumble in under its own momentum. Bluebonnet gasped and pulled back from the window.
“Papa, Papa, I saw an apple tree!”
Unable to resist, all four members of the family stood to look out the window, the youngest sitting on her mother’s back. The train began to pass by the outskirts of the town’s apple orchard, which grew all around the city. Full, large trees stood within sight of the Dappled River, dotted here and there with ripening fruit. Behind the city’s crops, to the south, stood the Palomino Mountain range.
Marigold sighed happily. “They do have mountains.”
“Heh, yeah. Not quite as impressive as home, but nice nonetheless,” the father affirmed.
“Oh, they don’t have to have snow on them; it’s just nice to think about.”
Bluebonnet let out another adorable gasp as the town proper came into view, down the path from the station that the train was gliding to a halt in front of. Her younger sister jumped down from her mother’s back, only to be scooped up in the beige-coated filly’s hooves excitedly. “Lupin, it’s our new home. We’re finally here!” she exclaimed, her laughter matching the younger filly’s as they spun in place, blue-toned manes swirling around them.
“Well, come on, you two,” Heartwood said, shooing the pair towards the aisle. “Let’s go say hello.”
When they got off the train, they were met by two ponies. One wore a waistcoat and checked a pocket watch on a chain, and the other sported a vest and an impressive hat. The pony in the vest stepped forward.
“Ah take it you’re Heartwood, then,” he said, his curious drawl catching Bluebonnet’s ear.
Her father stepped forward and extended his hoof to the pony. “That’s me. Braeburn Apple, I take it?”
Braeburn clacked his hoof against Heartwood’s. “Ya got me, sir. This here’s the mayor of Appleloosa, Dusty Trails. We’re mighty grateful to ya for making the trip down to Appleloosa. And thanks to your family as well,” he said, tipping his hat towards Marigold.
“Braeburn, Mister Mayor, I’d like to introduce my wife, Marigold—don’t worry, she’ll stop blushing eventually—and my daughters Bluebonnet and Lupin.”
Braeburn knelt down to Bluebonnet’s eye level. “Well, hello there, sweetheart. Ah hope you’ll like it here,” he said with a kindly wink to the filly. Bluebonnet giggled and muttered a “hi” back.
Her father frowned slightly. “So, how bad are things out here? Your letter made the situation seem quite dire.”
Dusty Trails sighed. “The situation is quite desperate. The blight has affected almost thirty percent of the crop, and we’re already looking at a slim harvest this year. If it spreads much further, the town will suffer quite a bit.”
“We’d like ya to take a look as soon as possible, sir,” Braeburn said. “The mayor’s arranged for a couple’a ponies to get your things moved into your new home for you.”
Heartwood smiled. “Thank you so much. Marigold, would you take the girls to the house? I’m going to accompany Braeburn and see what we’re up against here.” She nodded, and the three males walked off towards the edge of town, talking about plants and remedies.
Bluebonnet laughed and looked up at her mother. “I like him. He talks funny.”
Bluebonnet raced through the doorway as soon as it was opened, taking in the humble interior of their new home. Dust motes hung in the air, catching rays of sunlight that came through the window. Standing near the doorway, Lupin sneezed as the musty air tickled her nose. A pair of unicorns finished their struggle to get a cart of luggage into the main room and began stacking the boxes and small furniture in the corner.
Bluebonnet galloped back in from the bedrooms to see her mother standing sadly in the center of the meager house, looking around vacantly. The filly walked over, frowning in concern. “Momma? Are you okay?”
Marigold forced a smile at her older daughter. “Of course, dear. I’m just having some trouble adjusting to the idea that we live here now.”
“It’s gonna be fun!” the filly piped up, her typical grin fixed in place. “There’s so many new things here. We used to get apples from the market, but they grow on trees here!”
The mare smiled warmly at her filly, not quite able to banish the sadness from her eyes. “Bluebonnet, dear, why don’t you look around the town a little bit? There’s quite a lot of work to be done here, and we should get to know our way around.”
Bluebonnet’s leaf-green eyes went wide with surprise and delight. “Thanks, mom!” she yelled, galloping out the door and dodging underneath a sofa that the unicorns were carrying in.
Outside, she trotted down a packed-earth road towards the center of town, trying to take note of everything she could see. All the buildings in town seemed almost makeshift by comparison to her old home, with rough-boarded walls making up most of the view. She stopped on a wooden sidewalk, watching the main street traffic. The town’s primary thoroughfare was bustling, ponies walking here and there, pulling carts and carrying packs. Signs and shingles hanging in front of each building proclaimed their business, from the blacksmith to the general store. There seemed to be a fair bit of hoof traffic around one building on the corner.
Curious, Bluebonnet wandered over towards the building. She cocked her head at the sign, which read “The Salt Block.” Shrugging, she walked under the swinging door and was almost instantly ushered right back out by a large earth pony.
“Hey!” she protested.
“Sorry, little lady,” said the unknown pony in a friendly voice, “but the Salt Block ain’t no place for a young’un. You just run along now.”
He ducked back inside, but Bluebonnet stayed on the sidewalk, staring confusedly at the building. What was going on inside there? There seemed to be raucous piano music coming out, but not the loud voices you would assume from a party or gathering.
She walked over to a grimy window and hoisted herself up onto her rear legs to look inside. Ponies were scattered all throughout the interior at tables and around a large counter, almost all with mugs and glasses of various drinks, but she was immediately struck by how lifeless everypony looked. There were very few smiles and more than a couple of blank expressions. Frowning in thought, she let herself back down to all fours and turned back to the street.
Bluebonnet began to notice the ponies who were moving about in the early evening sun, and she could see that not many of them were chatting. Few ponies smiled at each other or waved to friends across the road. Confused and slightly worried now, she trotted over to the nearest pony she could see, a chocolate-brown stallion in a black duster.
“Hi!” the filly chirped, smiling brightly.
He gave her a wan smile in response. “Well, howdy there, little lady. What’s your name?”
“I’m Bluebonnet. My family just moved to town!”
“Well, pleased to meetcha. What’d ya move out here for?”
“My papa’s a herborve—horticam—botanist. He’s good with plants.”
The stallion gave the first legitimately happy grin she’d seen yet. “Bless ya both, then. We need the help, badly. Do ya like Appleloosa?”
“It’s nice, but why does everypony seem sad?”
“Sad?”
“Nopony smiles or waves to each other.”
He nodded sagely. “Ah, yes. Well, Miss Bluebonnet, this is a hard town. We have ta work very hard to survive out here, and at the end of the day, most of us are plumb exhausted. Sometimes it’s just difficult to think about why we’re trying to keep this town running.”
Bluebonnet put a hoof to her chin as she pondered over the stallion’s words. “But how can we make it better?”
He chuckled at her. “Tell ya what—you’re already making this place a little bit brighter. You just keep on doing that and see if ya can help change things around.” He gave her mane an affectionate tousle and walked off, his head just a little bit higher and his gait just a little bit quicker than before.
In the center of town, the schoolhouse’s bell began to chime the six-o-clock hour, the bronzed surface throwing flashes of reflected gold across the street as it swung. Bluebonnet began the walk back towards her new home, lost in thought as she went.
The door opened, and much to Marigold’s surprise, she wasn’t greeted by a filly racing in and bounding off the newly placed furniture. Rather, Bluebonnet closed the door softly behind her, and walked into the house, looking around distantly.
“Bluebonnet, is that you? I can hardly recognize you when you’re moving that slowly,” she joked halfheartedly.
The filly walked across the space and into the kitchen, where her parents were sitting at the table. “Yeah, it’s me,” she answered.
“How’s the town look?” her father asked.
She scrunched up her face, unsure how to word her feelings. “It’s a really nice town,” she offered. “The ponies seem very nice and welcoming, but…”
“But what, dear?”
“I don’t really know,” she admitted. “I can’t put my hoof on it.”
Marigold sighed ever so lightly. “I know what you mean,” she muttered, looking out the window towards the distant hills. “It just isn’t home yet.”
That wasn’t really the thought that was in Bluebonnet’s mind, but she let it pass, instead finding her way back to the room that she would share with her little sister. Their beds back home had been too large to bring so far south, so they would have to make do with cots until new beds could be found. Bluebonnet hopped onto the unoccupied one. The room had been laid out as closely to the layout of their old room as possible, given the mostly bare, wooden walls and sanded floorboards.
Lupin looked up from the picture book she was enjoying. “Hi, Sis,” she said. “Isn’t our new room neat?”
Bluebonnet looked around. Even in here, surrounded by familiar things, there was that same sense of something nagging her. “Yeah…”
“Do you think I can come with you next time you go out?”
“Hmm... I bet Mom would say okay to that. I met a really nice pony, and everypony seems to talk like Mister Braeburn.”
The sisters giggled and hopped off their cots, heading towards the kitchen for some dinner.
The fillies skipped down the dusty streets, ignoring the glare of the sun overhead. Bluebonnet kept an eye on Lupin as they turned onto the main street and stopped. The older sibling stretched out a hoof, sweeping across all there was to the town.
“What do you think, Lupin?”
The tiny filly looked around. “I don’t like it,” she said flatly.
Bluebonnet was taken aback. “Why not?”
“Everything’s brown.”
Bluebonnet looked again, trying to see what her sister was seeing. Her eyes widened as she finally recognized the depressed feelings all around her for what they were. The streets, the buildings, the floors, the landscape, and—depending on the wind—even the sky itself were all brown. There was almost no color, no vibrancy to be had anywhere; the only splashes of life in the entire place were on the signs and shingles hanging in front of the businesses. Bluebonnet’s gaze swept the streets, looking for ponies. Only a scant few held their heads up as they walked. Most let their heads hang low. Bluebonnet couldn’t blame them; there wasn’t anything worth looking at around them. The town—and even the surrounding landscape—held every shade from yellow to brown, but it all bled together into a morass of beige tedium.
Lupin scuffed the dirt street with her hooves, kicking up small clouds of dust, and laughed at the way the wind spun them around. With just one insight from the youngest member of the family, Bluebonnet could clearly see where the problem came from.
Appleloosa needed a spark of life. She just had to figure out where to find it.
The following morning found Bluebonnet galloping towards the small storage shed at the back of the house. For most of the night the filly had sat awake, pondering over her dilemma, knowing that there had to be a place where she could bring some life into the town. It wasn’t until breakfast that the inspiration had come to her. Bluebonnet’s mother had made an off-hoof comment about remembering the mountains back home in the spring, and the filly’s attention had been drawn to the nearby ridge, sudden clarity coming to her.
Mountains. Flowers. Color.
She flung open the shed door and looked around, searching for anything that could help her on her quest. Most of her father’s gardening tools had yet to be unpacked, but she found a small trowel and a gardening knife. Her father’s large camping canteen was sitting on top of a box of assorted knick-knacks. It, along with the tools, was quickly bundled into a large canvas sack, which she slung over her withers by its strap.
The filly sat down and took the time to pull her twin-hued mane into a long ponytail as she looked out over the plain to the nearby mountains. They were so close that surely they wouldn’t be difficult to reach, and there had to be scores of types of flowers and plants growing there that she could bring back. Ever since she had been able to walk, she had followed her father around as he tended to all sorts of plants, so her knowledge wasn’t insignificant. She knew she would be able to handle bringing some flowers back.
She shut the door behind herself and trotted into the apple orchard that surrounded the city. She came to a halt next to the river, where she filled up her canteen and knocked several apples off of the shorter trees to sustain her on her trip.
The filly carefully settled the bag across her withers and turned to face the Palomino Mountains. With a determined nod and a deep breath, she set off, galloping into the barren plain.
Bluebonnet had lost track of how far she had gone or how long she had been trotting. She knew it had to have been at least an hour before she had slowed from a run, but her pace had been constant since. The sun was just now reaching its peak, and the heat from it was becoming more than the filly could comfortably bear. There were few bushes around tall enough to offer her shade, and the ground ahead looked even more sparse, so she decided to take a break. Sitting down under the welcome cover, she pulled out the canteen. The water wasn’t exactly cold anymore, but it was refreshing nonetheless.
She wiped the sweat off of her face with the sack and tucked the canteen back inside as she tried to get her bearings. She had been traveling steadily uphill since leaving home. Appleloosa was a distant circle of civilization, bordered on three sides by the gentle arc of the Dappled River and the surrounding orchards. She was quite a ways above the city already, and she could just start to make out individual splotches of grass and trees on the hills still above her. Without taking her eyes off of the mountaintops, she pulled out an apple and chewed thoughtfully on it. If she could keep up her pace, she would probably reach her destination by the end of the day, but that would mean spending the night out in the wilderness. Although the sun’s heat made it hard to believe at the moment, she knew that the night would be uncomfortably cold—more than that, her family would probably be worrying over her by then.
After pausing for another drink, she tucked into a second apple, the not-quite-ripe flesh of the fruit sating her hunger for the moment. Bluebonnet knew she was taking a big gamble by assuming there would be plants that could survive down in Appleloosa. It would have to be something hardy. She pondered over her choices, reflecting on what she knew from back home in the north. One of the reasons she had been named Bluebonnet was because her father had loved the little flowers so much. He had always been impressed by the tiny blossom’s ability to survive, even through the harshest winters and driest summers. The thought of her namesake strengthened her resolve to complete her quest, knowing that Appleloosa would be better off for it.
Finally finishing off her lunchtime allotment of fruit, she re-shouldered her sack and trotted off again, up the slope and into the unknown.
By the time the sun had set, Bluebonnet was severely regretting not having brought a blanket. Night fell quickly this far south, and the desert lost its heat rapidly without the sun’s influence. The filly shivered as she walked on with her head bowed, the soft clop of her hooves providing the only sound for miles.
Thankfully, it was far from dark. The moon was bright enough to cast shadows, and its silvery glare was more than enough for Bluebonnet to navigate by. Even without the moon’s light, the stars themselves might just have been enough. Not for the first time that night, Bluebonnet stopped long enough to raise her head and gaze in awe at the unfamiliar southern face of Luna’s sky.
“So pretty…” she breathed in the cool air, blinking hard to try to keep her eyes open. She knew she wouldn’t be able to keep going. She was exhausted, her hooves hurt, and it was only going to get colder until morning. Glancing around, she noticed that she was in a grassy vale, though the moonlight painting everything in monochrome didn’t allow her to see any details beyond shape. There were a few low trees and rocks around, though, so she sought shelter near them, curling up against what she hoped would be the leeward side of the rocks. She dumped out her belongings nearby so she could curl as much of herself as possible underneath the sack.
Even with her shivering and the brisk air, it wasn’t long before exhaustion overtook her, and she drifted off into sleep.
The following morning, Bluebonnet was roused by her body’s unconscious shaking. She awoke, noting that it was only a few minutes after sunrise and that she was covered in tiny droplets of water. Blinking in surprise, she giggled at the sight of her sand-colored coat glittering from a million places. She got to her hooves slowly, shaking off the remnants of the night’s frost.
As soon as she was upright, she groaned in pleasure at the sensation of the sun on her back. After the frigid night, any warmth was welcome. A warm shudder ran down her back as she stretched out her weary muscles, and she glanced around.
The sight around her took her breath away.
All throughout the glade she had taken refuge in during the night, the ground was painted liberally with blossoming wildflowers in every color of the rainbow. Daisies and primrose, lilies and irises, foxgloves and bluebonnets—every type of flower she remembered from back home, and several more besides.
Completely forgetting her sore and chilly night, she laughed out loud, racing around the glade, romping and rolling around in the flowers.
“It’s perfect!” she yelled excitedly. “There’s so much color!”
Bluebonnet trotted back to her supplies and began munching on a few apples, watching birds fly by and wondering what her next step should be.
“Even with the trowel, I won’t be able to carry much sod,” she mused as she finished off the last of her second apple. “I suppose it’s gonna have to be seeds.”
Dusting herself back off, she draped the canteen’s neck strap over her shoulder and took up the empty sack. As the last of the sun finally broke free of the horizon’s embrace, Bluebonnet knelt down and began pulling flowers, tossing them into her sack.
“Look, Mister Heartwood, we’re all concerned for your daughter, but you need to sit down!” The grey-coated mayor of Appleloosa gave a worried sigh and checked his pocket watch yet again. “I know it’s getting dark, but more worry won’t make her come home any faster, and we have ponies searching all of Appleloosa.”
Heartwood sat heavily on the couch, hanging his head on his hooves. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, Mister Mayor, but I just can’t figure out where she would have gone on her own. We’ve only been here a few days, after all.”
Marigold put a hoof around her husband. “Is there a chance somepony might have taken her?”
Dusty Trails frowned. “Possible, but highly unlikely, ma’am. Appleloosans are good ponies, and somepony would have reported seeing a strange or suspect pony around by now.”
The mother paled considerably. “Could—could something out there have gotten her?”
Heartwood sat up and pulled his wife into an embrace. “Marigold, stop. Don’t think like that.”
There was a clattering of running hooves, and all three ponies turned to the doorway just in time to see Braeburn skid to a halt outside the open door. “Sir, ma’am, we found her.”
“Where? Where?” Marigold asked desperately, getting to her hooves as Braeburn held up a hoof gently.
“Easy now, she’s gonna be fine. One of the orchard workers spotted her walking back in from the desert, fit to fall over. No idea what she was doin’ or where she went, but they’re bringing her back home now.”
Heartwood hugged his wife tightly, both he and his mate near tears as a light-green mare walked carefully up to the house, balanced on her back was a young beige filly with a familiar blue two-toned mane. She walked in, nodding cordially to everypony in the room.
Bluebonnet felt herself being pulled gently off of the pony’s back and into her parents’ hooves. She looked up, her eyes bleary and tired.
“Bluebonnet, where in Equestria have you been?” her mother asked, crying and laughing all at the same time.
“Brought—brought you something pretty. Papa, can you—can you save them?” she muttered as her eyes closed and her breathing settled into a gentle snore.
Heartwood grabbed the canvas sack and opened the top, seeing it stuffed to the top with wildflowers of every shape, size, and color. His breath caught in his throat. “Oh, Marigold… She went all the way to the mountains to find flowers…”
“That’s not all she found, dear,” she whispered, nodding gently at the filly.
Both parents smiled, fresh tears of joy in their eyes as they saw the small, vibrant image of a bluebonnet emblazoned on their daughter’s flank.
Bluebonnet stood proudly on a hilltop, looking back down on the town of Appleloosa. Only a year earlier, she had been in this exact spot wondering if she could help the townsponies, and now the city was ringed with splashes of color. All along the river, scattered throughout the orchards and surrounding plains, the seeds from the flowers she had brought back had taken root.
The difference was infectious. Even high up on the foothill, sounds of construction and music from the distant town echoed across the plain. Ever since the flowers began to bloom, the city had recognized the difference, and began a full-scale operation to make the town more vibrant and lively. Gone were most of the old bare-wood walls and omnipresent brown.
The difference it made in the inhabitants was just as startling. Ponies seemed to spend more time out on the streets, mingling and chatting. The town was happier and livelier than ever before, and new ponies were starting to hear about the transformation and visit. A few had even decided to move in.
Bluebonnet felt a strong hoof drape over her shoulders, and she looked up at her father’s smile. “Do you think the town looks better, Papa?”
“I think it looks wonderful.” He gave her a kiss on the top of her braided mane. “I know you should be proud. You brought something special to Appleloosa.”
She grinned happily as they began to walk back down towards the town. All she had gone looking for was a spark of life. You never know what can start from just a spark.
