Strange Bedfellows

Rarity woke far too early for her tastes. The sun rose over the horizon, cutting through the green canopy of trees above, and its light forced her awake. Rarity huffed and sat up, looking over at Applejack. The orange pony was still slumbering away, not bothered by the first light of day. Rarity wanted to go back to sleep—to forget that they were stranded out here in the middle of nowhere—but she knew that there were much more important things at hoof.

“Applejack,” she said, leaning over to gently shake her friend’s shoulder, “Applejack, wake up! It’s morning; we need to get going.” Applejack stirred quickly, jackknifing up.

“Aw hay!” she shouted, rousing a few birds from where they’d been dozing in the trees. “I ain’t slept that long in...well...ever! Dang, how early is it?”

Rarity giggled. “Calm down, Applejack—it’s only dawn. Normally I’d be up a few hours after dawn, but we must have gone to sleep much earlier than we thought.” Applejack nodded.

“Yeah,” she said. “It’s a good thing too—no tellin’ what might be out here. It’s probably best if we get moving before anything has the chance to show up.”

“Right,” Rarity said. She looked nervously into the deep forest. “How far do you think this stretches for?” Applejack cocked an eyebrow, her green eyes scanning the hazy forest floor.

“Hard tellin’,” she said. “But there ain’t no sense in sittin’ around wondering—if we’re gonna reach the peaks of these mountains, we need to get movin’.” The two began walking forward, though Rarity was a tad hesitant.

“Applejack,” she said, “if there is, well, no telling what might be in here, who’s to say there isn’t a manticore or something worse lurking in a cave somewhere nearby?”

Applejack chuckled. “Rarity, don’t get spun up about stuff like that. This forest ain’t given us a reason to worry—not yet at least—and if there is something nasty somewhere around here, it ain’t gonna go away because we’re scared of it.” Rarity nodded, stepping away from a low-hanging branch.

“I suppose,” she said, and they both were silent for a few moments, the walls of trees on either side seeming to go on forever. The sun beat down on them, cutting through the mist with a harsh, unforgiving light, making the entire area humid and uncomfortable. Applejack could feel beads of sweat collecting on her forehead and beginning to slide down her face—she reached up with a hoof and wiped away the offending beads, glaring up through the canopy of trees at the shining sun.

Rarity could feel the grass stains on her back and hooves moistening with the humidity, as well as her mane frizzing out. The fashionista gave a small sigh of dismay, knowing she couldn’t stop to fix her poor hair. The forest around them smelled earthy—like fresh-cut grass—and, combined with the humidity, Rarity could feel her pace beginning to slow.

“Rarity, don’t be draggin’ your flanks,” Applejack said. “If you can’t keep up, we’re never gonna reach the peaks!” The white unicorn frowned, trying to drag herself along faster.

“Applejack, please,” she said, “you know as well as I do that my body is not as conditioned as yours. We may just need to go a little more slowly. After all, it’s sunny out and there doesn’t seem to be much danger around—I think we can afford to take it slow, at least for an hour or two. This heat is making me faint.”

Applejack opened her mouth as if to rebut, but stopped. “You’re right, I guess,” she said. “Let’s take things slower for a couple hours; we should also try and find a lake or somethin’. I’m fixin’ to die of thirst over here.” Rarity nodded.

“I’m parched as well,” she said. “We must find something to drink, and soon, or else we might both pass out.” Though they now had a clear goal, it didn’t seem easy to accomplish—all around them was nothing but trees, with no way of seeing past them. Even if there was a lake nearby, there was no telling what would be living in it—lake-dwelling monsters like hydras tended to take up residence in mountain lakes. But even with the danger, neither pony could last much longer without something to drink.

Applejack looked around, the sheer size of the forest beginning to weigh on her mind: the trees were all ancient—and of a species she’d never seen before—the branches were gnarled and dripped with the heavy moisture in the air, and the leaves weren’t spear-shaped like the majority of local Equestrian flora. Wherever they were, it was definitely a long way from home.

But at least Rarity hadn’t been complaining as much as Applejack thought she would. Despite the mud and twigs in her hair, the grass stains encircling her hooves, and the long green-and-brown streak on her back, Rarity hadn’t said one word about how dirty she was getting—Applejack actually found herself impressed.

“Applejack,” Rarity said, breaking the earth pony from her thoughts, “you never told me about your parents, you know. I’d like to hear about them.” Rarity smiled genuinely, but Applejack frowned.

“Is now really the time, sugarcube?” she asked, nodding to indicate the landscape around them. “‘Sides, I ain’t all that inclined to tell anypony about my parents, even if y’are bored.”

Rarity was taken aback. “Applejack,” she said, ducking to avoid a low branch, “we’re going to have nothing to do for the next few hours! I don’t see what’s so wrong with telling each other stories. We did it in the desert, after all.”

Applejack sighed, looking over at the unicorn. “Look, Rarity,” she said, “I’m an honest pony, so I’ll level with ya. I ain’t tellin’ nopony about me and my parents. It ain’t a story worth tellin’ anyhow.” The farmer chuckled. “‘Sides, it’d probably bore you worse than just walkin’ around quietly.”

“If you say so, Applejack,” Rarity said with a sigh of concession. “But isn’t there anything you are willing to talk about right now?”

Applejack shook her head. “I ain’t much in the mood for storytelling when my mouth is so dry, Rarity,” she said, giving the unicorn a look.

Rarity bit her lip for a moment, then smiled. “Yes, you’re right, Applejack—it’d be silly of us to expend all of our fleeting energy talking about things that are so...trivial.” Rarity had to force the word out. She was upset that Applejack had shot her down.

The two continued on in silence for a few more minutes, Rarity’s mind swimming with questions. First of all, where in Equestria were they? For that matter, were they even in Equestria anymore? This could easily be one of the neighboring kingdoms which surrounded Equestria—if that were the case, it could take months of traveling to get back to Ponyville! Rarity had always been a bit of a thought-spinner, and with this prospect at hoof, she quickly found herself worrying a lock of her mane with her mouth—the poor, disheveled thing was already limp and hanging over one of her eyes.

What if the place they’d been zapped to was so foreign that nopony even knew it existed? What if all there was to find out here was a bunch of grass, dirt, and rocks? Rarity’s eyes darted around, looking at the walls of unfamiliar trees with distaste. What if they never found their way home, and had to live out here, in the wild, for the rest of their days? The thought made Rarity sick, and the feeling was made worse by what followed: What if they never got to seen any of their friends again?

Rarity didn’t want to bother Applejack with such childish concerns—the earth pony was probably thinking up a way to get them out of this—but she knew if she kept silent, she would dwell on it. “Applejack,” she said, frowning when her friend turned around with an annoyed look.

“What’s up, Rarity?” Applejack said, cocking an eyebrow. The unicorn swallowed softly, looking up at the sky. She squinted as light struck her eyes.

“Well, I’ve been wondering...” Rarity said, flinching as a drop of dew fell from a tree and plopped on her nose, “what if we never find our way back to Ponyville? What if we never see Dash and Twilight and Pinkie and Fluttershy again?” Rarity expected reprimand for getting so spun up, so she was surprised when Applejack sighed, shaking her head.

“I was just thinkin’ the same thing, actually,” she replied. “I’m hopin’ against hope that we can see Ponyville from the peaks. If we can’t, then we’re just gonna have to head to the nearest town and try to get everything sorted out from there. Without the rest of the gang, of course.” Rarity’s lower lip trembled.

“Applejack,” she said, “forgive me if I’m incorrect in assuming this, but you don’t seem fazed at all by the prospect of us never seeing our friends again! What will we do if we can’t get home? Just find a new village, settle down and try to forget everything?!”

Applejack wheeled around, her jaw set hard. “Rarity,” she said, “I’m just as worried about all that mess as you are, alright? I’ve just got the good sense not to talk about it, because I know all it’s gonna do is depress me. Now, enough fussin’, alright? It’s gettin’ mighty old, mighty fast.”

Rarity sighed. “Right, right,” she said, “I’m sorry, AJ. It’s just...well...I’ve always been a bit of a worrywart, even if I don’t show it on the outside much.”

Applejack chuckled, deadpanning, “Naw, really?’ She gave Rarity a good-natured smile and a wink, and the unicorn brightened.

“In any case,” Rarity said, stepping over a fallen tree branch, “I’m sorry if I was being a little...annoying.” Applejack shook her head, smiling at her friend.

“Rarity,” she said, “you and me don’t always line up, and sure you’re annoyin’ and all sometimes, but trust me, I ain’t gonna buck your head sideways just yet.”

Rarity giggled, playing along with the joke. “Applejack!” she cried. “How barbaric! Why, if you bucked my head sideways, I would have to give you quite a talking-to!”

The earth pony recoiled in mock horror. “I think I’d rather prance around town in a dress than listen to you talk about bein’ proper and not gettin’ into fights with other ponies! After all, I am a ‘brute’ if you’re to be believed! A dress’d make me a right ‘n proper pony!” The two ponies were tittering now, and Rarity had to force her joke out.

“Well, it’d suit the situation quite well—we’re already stuck out here, why not just swap roles? I’ll be the ‘ornery’ one, and you can be the fussy fuddy-duddy!” The two of them broke out laughing full-force; Applejack even fell over and began rolling on the ground, clutching her hooves to her stomach to try and catch a few breaths.

She wiped a few tears of mirth from her eyes, looking up at Rarity with a smile. “Boy, Rarity,” she said, “I think that’s just what we needed—a few good laughs to make everything seem a little better.” When she looked up at Rarity however, the unicorn was looking past her, shock on her face. “Rarity,” Applejack said, concerned, “you alright?”

Rarity simply raised a hoof to point east. “W...water...” she said softly, and Applejack whirled around.

Sure enough, there it was: a massive, misted lake, full of sparkling, fresh water just begging to be drunk. The crystal clear fluid shifted back and forth with the currents of the wind, forming miniscule waves along the otherwise-calm surface. Along the outer ring of the lake, lush vegetation grew in force, though neither of the ponies could recognize the plants exactly.

“Water!” Applejack cried. “Aw hay, I’ve been dyin’ of thirst! I can’t wait to get a drink!” She took off toward the lake at a strong gallop, Rarity following her silently at a trot. Had it just been Rarity’s imagination, or had she seen the water bubble?