Author's Note

Before anyone says anything, let me tell you why I haven't been very active in my writing.

Vertigo.

Lower respiratory infection.

Sinus Infection.

Upper Respiratory infection

Family drama. Am I missing anything? Oh yeah!

School.

Job hunting, now that I've finally graduated.

But I should be good to go for a little while at least. Hopefully. Maybe.

Fuck it, we'll see where it goes from here.

Life goes on

By the gods, I'm sore. Day four into applebuck season and I'm sore in places I didn't even know I had. It's also made me realize that wearing sweatpants all the time is a horrible idea during the summer, even while shirtless. My arms, currently occupied by at least seven baskets of apples, are still sore from the previous three days of carrying all manner of things. My own sweat has soaked through my pants, more from the heat than anything, I'm so used to the cold weather that this is hellish.

I'm almost tempted to say it was easier to go through boot camp again.

Adrian, buddy, you're gonna kill yourself at this rate. Maybe you should take a break-

Do you see them taking a break?

Well, no.

Exactly. I'll be fine.

"Sugarcube! We're gonna break fer lunch! Y'all comin'?" Applejack calls from somewhere else in the orchard. With a sigh, I set the apple baskets down by the barn door and wipe the sweat from my eyes.

... you win this round.

"Be there in a second!" I call back, attempting to stretch the soreness from my body and eliciting a satisfying *crack* from my spine. Much better. The sunlight takes the place of my sweat in my eyes, and I made my way back to the farmhouse, following the unmistakable smell of apple pie.

Honestly, it's crazy how much of their diet involves apples. Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING had apples in it, except the milk and bread. How they can do this all the time, I'll never know.

Then again, I'm an omnivore, so my tastes are probably different.

"Ah've gotta hand it to ya sugarcube, we got a lot done today." Applejack says, not two seconds after I step into the farmhouse. Her expression tells me she's pleased, if her smile is anything to go by, and in the background I could hear pie tins crinkling.

"Well, I didn't feel like being left behind. Besides, when there's work to be done, I don't tend to drag my feet." I reply, twisting my neck to work out the cricks, which seems to unnerve her.

"Well, we'll be finishin' up early today, so y'all can head home after lunch. We'll handle the rest." I raise my eyebrow at this, but say nothing. I know better than to argue with someone like her. She reminds me so much of my old Training Instructor, that hard-ass former militia took NO beak. Err, lip, or whatever the saying is.

"If you say so, Applejack. Just don't push yourself... not that I'm one to talk." I laugh. She chuckles at that.

"Ah've been doin' this mah whole life, Adrian. Ah think we can handle it."

"Alright. What is for lunch, anyway?" I ask, already knowing the answer, but more for conversation's sake. It's always nice talking to Applejack, and her accent's endearing. Easy on the ears.

Not that I'd tell her this, of course.

"Apple pie, some Fritters from breakfast, apple tarts, and-"

"Would you mind if I just had an apple or two? That all sounds amazing, don't get me wrong, but I'm not built for high sugar intake. Omnivore or no." I ask, unable to help the nervous smile from breaking out over my face. She just nods.

"Ah think we can do that."

++Present Day Griffonia++

A single griffon guard, clad in simple steel armor, held together by average quality chainmail burst into the lavishly decorated throne room, his crest standing straight in panic and his feathers (those that weren't covered by the armor) were fluffed out nervously. Upon the gold and red velvet thrones before him were the countries monarchs, both lion/eagle griffons

"My King! My Queen! Princess Adrianna is missing!"

The smaller griffon, wearing a gold tiara, bearing purple gemstones, stood up suddenly at this announcement. Her own crest was raised in anger, and her royal robe billowed out behind her as she approached the now terrified soldier.

"Well then, find her you damned fools! Sear-"

"Dear, you're going about this the wrong way." The much larger, crowned griffon stated. King Charles the IX wasn't one to act hastily. Ignoring his angrily huffing wife, he looks to the soldier. "You claim she's missing, but I know my daughter, soldier. I know where she's going." He holds up a claw to cut off both the soldier and his wife. "The question you should be asking isn't where did she go. It's where is she going. Or, more specifically..."

He leaned back on the throne, his eyes narrowed sharply.

"Where is Adrian right now?"

+++++

I felt myself shiver as I walked home, munching on my remaining green apple.

I got a bad feeling just now, Adrian.

You too?

Yeah. I haven't felt like this since we visited the castle after the war.

Do you think it's...

Let's not jump to conclusions. I say we wait and see what happens.

I shrug, taking another bite out of my apple. I had bits to drop off (though, again, I didn't really need them) and shopping to do later.