Spike rapped his knuckles on the blue door, and he took the few seconds before it opened to straighten his spines. Fixing a tight-lipped smile on his face, he waited.
The door cracked open, and Roseluck stuck her head out with a grin. “Good morning, Spike! What brings you my way this—” Her eyes darted behind him, and she slammed the door, her shriek ringing through morning air even past the barrier.
Sighing, Spike cast a look over his shoulder to the three changeling baring their fangs behind him. “Uh, guys?” He tapped a claw to his mouth. “What’d I say about the smiles?”
The three looked each other over, their faces gradually dropping down into expressionlessness.
“That’s... better.” Spike knocked again, and the door jerked open with Roseluck’s green eyes peering through the few inches of space like twin needles. “Morning, Rosey! We’ve got some new ponies in town, and Twilight wanted me to show them around.”
A single squeak escaped Roseluck’s throat, and she swept her eyes behind him once more. Her gaze settled on Spike with furrowed brows.
He chuckled, running a claw through his spines again. “Well, yeah. Slip of the tongue. Not ponies, but they’re cool. Twilight vouches for them, and she’s up in Canterlot right now to run all this by Princess Celestia herself.”
One of the three coughed, the only sound to be heard.
Spike cleared his throat. “So Twilight thinks they might be hanging around town for awhile. And if they’re gonna stay, they might as well get used to pony living. To become productive members of society. And to do that, they need jobs. And you run the biggest flower shop in town with—”
The door slammed shut. The unmistakable sound of bolts and locks slipping into place soon followed.
Spike sighed and pulled out a quill and parchment. “Scratch one more,” he said, striking a line through Roseluck’s name. “Come on, guys. The day is still young.”
One of the three trotted next to him as they walked away. “It’s getting worse, huh? At least the Quills and Sofas guy let us turn into pillows before kicking us out.”
“Nah, she was always a long shot. Those three are too darn excitable.”
“Those three?” another asked.
The changeling raised an eyebrow, ignoring its fellow. “Then why bother with her?”
Spike tapped the quill to the list of names. “Jobs or not, Twilight wanted me to walk you three through town. The more everypony sees you, the more they’ll get used to you. Hopefully,” he added, seeing Applejack’s name next on his list. He wondered if word might have spread out to Sweet Apple Acres yet.
All things considered, things had gone fairly peacefully. Except for the occasional screams. But that was to be expected, Spike supposed. He didn’t know how many ponies watching them now had also seen Twilight leave the train station with her group, but on the bright side, no pony had attacked them either.
Rainbow Dash must not have woken up yet.
“I’ve been thinking,” the changeling said. “Why don’t a couple of us go back to the library? That last mare got so freaked out by us, we might have more luck going one by one.”
Spike shook his head. “I’d say this is going pretty well. Besides, they might start wondering what’s up if they only see one of you instead of the three they heard about.” He waved at Cheerilee, who resembled one of the statues in the Canterlot Gardens. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt if you were females. You know, mares like her and Roseluck might be more comfortable with that instead of seeing three soldiers waltzing through town.”
The changeling frowned. “I am female.”
He froze, and the changeling following behind nearly tripped over him. “You’re what?!”
The other changeling tried to recover from his stumble, but his laughter sent him to the ground. “You seriously couldn’t tell?”
“No!” Spike felt his face grow hot with all three laughing at him now. He glared at each in turn, the female last of all. She didn’t have eyelashes, no hair, no different shape of her muzzle. “How was I supposed to tell? You look exactly the same!”
She snickered. “How dare you.”
“What? No! I didn’t mean—” Spike snapped his mouth shut and turned to the other two. “You’re both guys, right? And so were all the others that went with Twilight. How was I supposed to tell?”
They all walked on laughing.
Spike slapped a claw to his face. “At least Twilight’s having an easier time of it.”
Twilight grinned under the glare of the sun reflected off the spear tips pointed at her throat. “Hi, we’re Princess Celestia’s twelve o’clock. We’re a little early.”
More guards poured out of the castle gates to surround her and the six changelings standing with her.
Stormy Night fidgeted in place. “They were expecting us, right?”
Spike kicked a rock down the dusty path to Sweet Apple Acres. “Nothing? Seriously? Twilight wanted you guys to figure out some names, and nothing jumps out at you?”
“But names are weird,” one of the males said. “I mean, queens are given names. They’re the ones worthy of being remembered. And every single pony ever born gets one? Just like that?”
“Pretty much,” Spike said, shrugging. “Parents think of the names a heck of a lot more than the kids do. We’ve got books of nothing but names in the library for moms and dads to check out.”
“That’s even worse! You waste names like—”
“Look, you guys are thinking about this too much.” Spike bent over and held up the rock. “Look, here’s a rock. Or a stone. Do either of those sound good? Maybe granite or something? Just pick a word so we have something to call you by.”
The other male perked up. “I’ve got a name!”
“Great! What’ll it be?”
“It! Chrysalis called me that all the time back at the Hive!”
Spike blinked. “That’s... not what I had in mind.”
The changeling’s ears drooped. “Really? But she called me that so often. She’d even point right to me. ‘Take It outside and show him how to do it right!’”
The female shook her head. “And see where great and powerful Queeny Chrissy brought us? The entire Hive is scattered to the wind and left to fend for ourselves. I don’t want anything to do with her.”
“My name is It,” he huffed. “It’s perfect. Short, easy to say, and impossible to forget. Seriously, how do ponies remember so many names with so many faces?”
“Ask Applejack,” Spike said with a wave of his hand. “Her family could probably fill up Ponyville a few times over. So what about you other two? I don’t want to keep calling you ‘You’ all day.”
The female snorted. “Is that any worse than It?”
It glared at her. “I like my name.”
Spike snapped his claws. “That’s a good idea! Why don’t you just name yourselves what you like? Or maybe something you like to do? You might just figure out something better than It.”
She tilted her head in thought for a moment. “Well... maybe. The three of us were Watchers back at the Hive, but I’d rather put that behind me.”
“Watchers? What’s that?”
“We were guards. We kept watch over the cave entrances to chase off any bears or wolves that tried to move in.” She shuddered. “Hairy stuff, trying to drive away a hungry bear with only a couple Brothers and Sisters with you. It was peaceful though, when there wasn’t anything creeping around outside. I liked the night shift most of all. The moon was beautiful.”
Spike scratched his chin. “So you like the night. Star? Moonlight? Twilight might have something better when she gets back. She’s a real night owl like you.”
She perked up. “What was that?”
“Huh? Oh, I was just thinking we could call you Star for the day, then Twilight thinks of something better with you.”
“No, not that. What did you call us?”
“Night owls? That’s what we call ponies that stay up late at night.”
She smiled and nodded. “That has a nice ring to it. Night Owl.”
He hummed a note, cocking his head to the side. “Night Owl. I like it.” Spike flipped his list over and made a note on the back as the group passed through the Sweet Apple gate. “Do you guys mind if we figure yours out later? There’s more to pony living than just names after all.” He spotted Applejack and Apple Bloom working together at the pig sty, each one ducking up and down to wipe the swine with a towel. He whistled. “Hey, Applejack! Good morning!”
The two ponies looked up, and two smiles dissolved instantly. Apple Bloom dove behind her sister’s legs, while Applejack crept forward step by slow, ponderous step. “H-howdy there, Spike. What’s goin’ on?”
Night Owl slipped between them, holding a hoof out. “Pleased to meet you! My name is Night Owl.”
Applejack leaned away from her. “You... you’re really changelings, huh? I heard ‘bout you from town, but I didn’t—”
“Yes, she is,” Spike said. “Twilight’s hoping the three of them—”
Apple Bloom squealed. “Did you say ‘She?’” She bolted between Applejack’s legs and bounced around Night Owl. “Oh my stars, you’re a girl? But you don’t look like a queen! There are girl changelings? This is amazing!” She lifted one of Owl’s legs. “Hey, don’t these holes hurt?”
“E-easy, there sugarcube,” Applejack said, reaching out for her sister. “Don’t crowd the guests.”
Night Owl offered a reserved smile. “Oh, she’s fine. I used to pitch in with the younglings back at the Hive, you know. I’m used to little ones crawling over me.” Looking down, she answered, “No, they don’t hurt one bit. We get born with them, after all.”
Spike cleared his throat. “Right. Back on track. Twilight personally vouches for each changeling in Ponyville, and she wants them to get adjusted to life around here as soon as possible.”
Applejack narrowed her eyes. “Adjusted how?”
“Jobs!” It piped in.
“They’re useful!” Spike blurted out before Applejack could respond. “They’re another set of hooves, and we don’t even need you to take all three of them. It’d mean a lot to Twilight if you helped her get them settled. Uh... like this!” He ran over to a wheelbarrow tipped on its side with a broken spoke, waving It over to follow him. “Show her how useful you are. Shift into this wheel here.”
“Can do.” He crouched down, and green fire enveloped him in one blinding instant. A perfectly round wheel stood upright in his place.
Spike grinned up at Applejack. “What did I tell you? Perfect craftsmanship every time.” He knocked on the wheel, and it started to roll down the grassy hill. He dove after it a hair too late, and his charge bounced away. “Oh crap, is he gonna be okay?”
Night Owl crouched down to let Apple Bloom hop on her back. “Yeah, he’s fine. We’re sturdy enough to take a tumble down a hill.”
“I’ll say!” Apple Bloom jumped up and down on the shiny blue plate on Night Owl’s back. “Holy wow, how tough is this thing?”
The changeling flew back up from the foot of the hill. “Wheel. Wheel. My name is totally Wheel now. You guys gotta try this!” He threw himself back down the hill, rolling along in another burst of green.
Applejack watched him go with a shake of her head. “Useful like a pig feeding the cows, that one. No can do, Spike. I run a farm here, not babysitting.”
“No fair!” Apple Bloom jumped down, and she stamped a hoof. “Weren’t you just talking at breakfast about me taking some more chores? But I still have school work!”
“Changeling or pony, that don’t make anyone your science project, Apple Bloom!”
Sputtering a protest, Apple Bloom glanced between Night Owl and her sister. “I-I wasn’t gonna say that!”
“Aww.” Night Owl patted her head, fangs bared in a wide grin. “You’re so manipulative I want to wear your skin.”
Apple Bloom’s face froze, and she vanished in a puff of dust tracing around the barn.
Night Owl blinked. “What? What did I say?”
“That’s your cue to leave,” Applejack grunted. She turned to head back to the pigs.
Spike followed after her. “Come on, give the third one a shot! You can’t use a strong back to haul stuff around? Nothing that needs to get fixed?” He surged ahead of her. “Look, Twilight is talking to Celestia about them staying here right now. I know this is sudden, but they aren’t bad guys. They just need a little guidance. Can you help?”
“It ain’t that, Spike,” Applejack said. “It takes more than a strong back to work a farm. What do they know about the earth? Or plants? Or sticking to something until the job gets done? Have they even worked an honest day in their lives?”
“Sure they have!” Spike waved over the last changeling. “Tell her what you told me. You have jobs at the Hive, right? The Watchers?”
“Kind of.” He rubbed his head. “It’s... not really a job. More like, ‘Do this, or get out and die alone.’ We all just did what we had to do, and I got picked to stand guard day or night, rain or shine.”
Spike thrust his hands at him. “See? He’s a lookout! Need someone to keep an eye on the fruit bats? Done deal.”
Applejack scratched her chin. “The bats mind themselves pretty good, but I’ve got another idea.” She led them to a shed. When she opened it, a pile of pumpkins poured out, each one with a happy, toothy grin drawn on with a marker. Applejack jabbed a hoof to the sky. “A certain pegasus we know keeps sneaking in and vandalising my scarecrows. If he don’t mind hanging around all day, I can hitch him to a pole and pay him what I save on pumpkins.”
The changeling nodded. “That sounds familiar. I can do that. So am I Scarecrow now?”
Spike shrugged. “Eh, you can think of something better when you’re on break.” He turned to Applejack. “He is getting breaks, right? I don’t think this is what Twilight had in mind, him roasting in the sun all day.”
She snorted. “‘Course he’ll get breaks. If he don’t cause trouble, we’ll see where it goes from here. I might even have him chase that Rainbow off the next time I catch her napping in my trees.”
“Well, that’s a start. Thanks, AJ!” Spike waved good-bye and left the two of them to get situated. He walked back over to Night Owl as Wheel threw himself down for one more tumble. “What’s up? You don’t want in on the fun?”
She kicked at the ground, taking a look over the farm one more time. “I... really scared off the little one, huh?”
“Yep. Just remember the next time you compliment someone you don’t say anything about cutting off part of their body.”
“But I didn’t say—” Her ears fell. “Oh. That’s what it sounded like? Do... do ponies even do that?”
“No. That’s the point.” He led her back towards town, and he pulled out his list again. “At least this time we can check something off instead of crossing it out.”
Wheel bounced ahead of them along the dirt path, and he popped back to his usual self, falling over to his back with a laugh. “Do you think she’d mind if I came back tomorrow? I can’t believe I never thought of this before. Could I get a job doing this?”
Spike snickered. “Too bad Pinkie’s visiting her family today. She might have some ideas. Speaking of Pinkie...” He looked up to the sun, nearly directly overhead. “We can make some more stops before lunch. Have you two ever had ice cream?”
“In conclusion,” Twilight said, “the changeling ‘menace’ has been greatly exaggerated. While geopolitical issues may force us into conflict with them, the same can be said for every intelligent species on the face of the planet.”
She waved a hoof to the squad of changelings sitting behind her. “They deserve no less than we deserve: a chance to live their lives in peace. This and other similarities I’ve observed in our time together compel me to ask they be given a chance. A chance to live as we do, a chance to prove that with friendship and understanding, even the harshest appearance can prove to be completely harmless.”
Celestia closed her eyes in thought upon her golden throne, and Twilight felt the tension in the room as surely as she felt Stormy Night’s whispered breath of Good job on her ear. She could almost see the guards surrounding them without looking, waiting like coiled springs to leap into action at Celestia’s word, spears at the ready.
Parenthetical looked back at her from the foot of the throne—poor Parenthetical wrapped in a chain and waiting to hear his fate. He too showed his appreciation with a hopeful smile.
Celestia also looked down on him. She regarded Twilight for a long moment, and with a wave of her hoof, she ushered Parenthetical to rejoin his fellows.
“Oh, you won’t regret this, Your Highness!” Twilight bounded forward while the changelings cheered behind her, and she cast a spell to unlock the heavy chain. “They really can be a fun bunch when you get to know them. Completely harmless.” She tossed away the chain and looked Parenthetical over. “But how did they find you?”
He chuckled. “I, ah, went looking at the bank for the money you sent for my train ticket. That’s where the books say the money is, so I let myself into the vault.”
Celestia raised an eyebrow at Twilight.
She smiled sheepishly and chuckled. “M-mostly harmless.”
Spike wrapped his tongue around the top scoop of ice cream in his waffle cone and yanked it back into his mouth. “So what do you think?”
Night Owl frowned at the spoon balanced in the gap of her hoof. “It’s... tough.” She poked at the bowl in front of her, and the spoon clattered to the table.
Wheel seemed to be having better luck. He held the end of his spoon in his mouth as he drove it into the ice cream. After a decent size chunk had settled, he flipped it over and caught the other side, only to drop it a moment later in a yelp of shock. “Wow, that’s cold! Right on the fang!” He rubbed a hoof on his jaw.
“You’ll get used to it.” Spike tried and failed to suppress a grin. “Just don’t eat it too fast. If you thought that was bad, you don’t want the headache. But don’t eat it too slow, or it’ll melt.”
“What? Not fast, but, huh?” Night Owl sank down with a sigh. “Ponies are weird. Can’t I just go catch a fish in the lake?”
Spike noticed a few ponies sharing Sugarcube Corner with them flinch away. “Not if you want to fit in that easily. You don’t want to be known as Fishbreath around town, do you?” Spike crossed out Barnyard Bargains on his list. “Not to mention it’s hard enough finding work without actual fish on your breath. I really thought they’d go for you two. They change prices so much why wouldn’t they want a sign or two that could change on its own?”
Night Owl cleared her throat. “Far be it from me to question your plan, but—”
“But you’re going to power through,” Spike said, rolling his eyes.
“—but wouldn’t it make sense to ask for a job from somewhere looking for help?” She pointed across the street. “We haven’t been there yet. Is it even on the list?”
Spike looked over to follow her gesture, and he saw Help Wanted posted in a window. “That’s a diner, though.” He arched an eyebrow at her. “What would you do in a diner?”
“What would I do in a store? Or a clothes shop?”
“Change into things, model clothes for different body types, use the skills you were born with, that kind of stuff. That’s what I do. My breath helps Twilight talk to Celestia when she needs to, and these babies,” he said with a wiggle of his claws, “not only hold the quills so Twilight can concentrate, but I can dig through the ground to find gems for Rarity. Not to mention the dragonskin to hold her pins and needles.”
Her jaw fell open for a moment. “What? You... she... what, does she just stab stuff into you?”
“Yeah, and I don’t feel a thing.” He flicked a claw on his chest. “It’s what I do. It’s my natural talents. You just have to use yours.”
Night Owl shot to her feet and headed for the door. “I’m gonna ask. There’s no reason I can’t make a living doing what anyone else can do.”
Spike held up his hands and shook his head. “If you call that living. I’m just trying to help.” He watched her march up to the diner and throw open the doors, disappearing inside. “Kinda bossy, huh? Is she always like this?” A flash of green caught his eye, and he saw Wheel’s horn alight. “What are you doing?”
“Melting it.” His bowl took on the same green hue, and in a few moments, it nearly overflowed with the remains of his sundae. “There, so much easier.” Wheel lowered his head and flicked his tongue into the mixture. He soon followed that with his entire face, slurping up his lunch like an animal at a stream.
“Uh, dude?” Spike worriedly glanced around at the ponies staring at the spectacle. “You know that’s what the spoon is for, right?”
He looked up from his bowl, muzzle covered with dripping chocolate, whipped cream, and dusted with sprinkles. “Why? Try it! This is so much better!” And down he went again.
A little filly watched on curiously from a nearby table. She lowered her head down to her bowl to take one small, short lick, and her mother pounded a hoof on the table, glaring at the girl until she lifted her spoon again.
Spike studied his cone and shrugged. He shot a thin stream of flame over the final scoop until it melted away, and he tossed it in his mouth, crunching the chocolate soaked waffle in a few bites. “Ooh, not bad. Good call.” He leaned back in his seat. “So... what are we going to do with you? I’m sure there’s a pony in town that could use a wheel—”
Something slammed down onto the table, and he leapt up with a yelp.
“Waitress, three bits an hour plus tips,” Night Owl said with a smirk, sliding a sheet of paper over to him. “Guaranteed once I get the application filled out. So make with the natural talent, Quill Boy. Name: Night Owl. Address: Golden Oaks Library.”
“E-easy.” Spike scribbled her name and the address down. “First, the name of the building isn’t the actual address. And what’s going on? When do you start? Do you even know what you’re doing? How—?”
“I’m breathing, he said. I guess he was desperate.” The smirk turned into a sneer. “I guess there aren’t enough ponies around town with dishes stamped on their butts.”
Spike jotted down None in the space provided for schools, then paused. “I don’t suppose the Hive has a registrar’s office?”
Even Wheel saw fit to distract himself from his ice cream to stare blankly.
“Guess not.”
Spike opened the door to the library after a long, fruitless afternoon. “Two out of three isn’t so bad,” he said, rolling up his list and stuffing it in a drawer. “Maybe Twilight will have some ideas for you tomorrow.”
“Maybe.” Wheel stepped past him, balancing a ball on his back that Spike had bought at the toy store. It had been more an apology for driving off some business than a gift, but Wheel had seemed to like it. He stretched himself out on the floor and tossed his ball in the air to catch it between his hooves. “Do you think Night Owl is doing okay? I thought she’d be back by now.”
Spike looked out to the setting sun. “Still a few hours until closing time. They’ll probably keep her there to show how to clean up and everything. I’m more worried about the other guy. Should I go check on him?”
“Nah, he’s good.” Wheel tossed the ball again and batted it back in the air every time it fell. “He might just stay there tonight. He likes the outdoors.” The ball sailed too high, and it fell behind his head. He sat up. “I’m hungry. Do you keep any ice cream here?”
“I like the way you think.” Spike smiled and led him towards the kitchen. “And since Twilight isn’t—”
The front door slammed open, and all thoughts of ice cream fled Spike’s mind at the sight of Twilight herself standing in the door, the straight shape of her mane ruined with frazzled strands standing up, and her eyes boring straight ahead in an unblinking daze. She strode forward with both right hooves in a stiff gait, and staggered after them with her left. Step by step she advanced, only the striking sound of her hooves on the wooden floors to announce any sign of life.
Spike gulped. He stepped to the right—Wheel to the left—but Twilight’s gaze followed neither of them. Only one changeling followed her inside, and Spike inched his way over to him.
Twilight froze, and so did he. “Status report.”
He stammered, swallowed, and said, “Two have jobs, one at Applejack’s and the other across from Sugarcube Corner. That one named herself Night Owl.” He pointed to the last of his charges. “He’s Wheel, and we’ll try again tomorrow.”
Twilight gave no nod, no word of recognition, just pulled herself to her favorite desk. Her hindquarters slammed down with a heavy thud, and she stared straight at the wall.
Spike reached the other changeling—Stormy Night, he recalled—as he shut the door. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “What happened? Where are the others?”
“They’re okay,” Stormy whispered back. “Celestia’s keeping them up there. She didn’t want Ponyville to feel overwhelmed.”
“So why is Twilight—”
“It soothes me,” Twilight said. Loudly. “The cracks. The wood. The angles angled just so.” Her voice slowed to an awkward rhythm of humming, rising and falling with something resembling inflection. She let out a great and drawn-out sigh. “It soothes me.”
Wheel crept to an open book on the floor. He slipped inside inch by inch until only a hoof remained, which he used to close the cover on himself.
Spike grabbed Stormy by one of his leg holes. “Dude. What. Happened.”
“Well, the Princess was upset Twilight hadn’t told her about us. She said she was disappointed in her—”
“She WHAT?!” Spike slapped his claws over his mouth. Twilight showed no reaction, and he lowered his voice again. “How is she keeping it together like this? Celestia hasn’t said that since I accidentally burned Twilight’s homework instead of sending it in at the deadline! Twilight didn’t talk to me for a month!”
Twilight stood and headed for the stairs. “I’m ready, Stormy. Don’t keep me waiting.”
Spike gaped after her as she climbed out of view. “What was that? What did you do?”
He shrugged. “She was upset, and I wanted to help out. I asked what I could do to make her feel better.”
“Oh Celestia, a back rub.” Spike dug his claws into his face. “She made you promise her a back rub, didn’t she?”
“She took it hard, okay? She could use some relaxation.” He made to follow Twilight upstairs.
Spike darted ahead of him. “Have you met Twilight? She’s very particular about her back rubs! What do you know about the trapezius muscles? Do you even know the best way to rotate a cannon if she asks? Anything?”
“Stormy!” Twilight called from upstairs. “Where are you?”
Spike grabbed his muzzle with both hands before he could answer. “Clockwise motions, caudal to cranial. She’s ticklish where her legs meet her barrel. Don’t go there until she’s relaxed.” He yanked Stormy’s face to his own. “Do not! Go! For the tickle spots!”
One high note of a whine escaped Stormy Night, and he vanished in a purple flash.
“Good luck, bro.” Spike tapped a fist to his chest. Maybe he should check in on Night Owl after all.
Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.
Door. Someone at the door. Applejack groaned and rolled out of bed. “I hear. I hear.”
Bang. Bang. Bang.
She stuck her head out of her window. “I hear ya!” She yanked herself back inside and finally opened her eyes to see the time, half past eleven. At least the pounding had stopped. She stumbled her way to the front door on legs protesting their truncated rest after a hard day’s bucking.
“What?” she snapped, throwing open the door.
The changeling leapt back. “Oh jeez, did I knock too much? I didn’t know what to do about this, and—”
“You’re still here?”
“Well, yeah. You told me to stay in the fields. But I think I scared her.” He pointed down.
Applejack blinked away the last vestiges of sleep and looked to see Fluttershy sprawled out, eyes locked in mismatched shapes, and still as stone with a black marker sticking out of her mouth. “What in tarnation?”
“She just started poking me in the pumpkin with that thing in her mouth. I shifted back and said, ‘Hi, what’s your name?’ I was just trying to be friendly, and, uh...” He waved a hoof. “This. This happened.”
Applejack shook her head. “Swore it was Rainbow. I’ll take care of her. You, ah, you’re just staying in the field all night?”
He nodded. “Sure thing, Boss.” And off he went.
“Wait, I didn’t tell you to—” She scratched her head. “At least get back here at daybreak! We’ll get some breakfast in ya!”
He turned and waved.
“Sure thing, Boss,” she repeated to herself. “Sure thing.” Applejack pulled Fluttershy inside and went to fetch some cider to heat up. “This might just work out.”
Author's Note
If you've enjoyed this series of mine, you might be interested in this group.
