March 1st, 1001 Domina Solaria, First Year of the Two Sisters
For most everypony, the flowers blooming and songbird’s elated singing portents a March full of life and vitality. And with the pink alicorn flying through the dimming, cloud-studded sky, one can definitely say that Love is in the air.
For the three young mares laying about in the treehouse at Sweet Apple Acres, March brings an entirely unwelcome, yet at the same time not entirely unrelated, phenomenon.
“Uuugghh,” moans Apple Bloom, her red bow pulled off and cast to the side. “It’s too hot in here.” Her eyes turn to that pink, red, and purple crest on each flank. What she thought would be the solution to all of life’s problems? Turns out, it’s the cause of a whole lot more. Just like hard cider, if her dam could be believed. And - especially now that she’s old enough - she could really go for a drink right about now.
“Can’t we open a window or something?” Sweetie Belle plaintively asks nopony in particular, sprawled out on the floor, limbs going every which way in a vain attempt to cool off. Her eyes raise to the shutters covering the windows, keeping out any of the fading sun’s hot rays. “Maybe a breeze would help?”
“Nah, that just makes it worse,” replies Scootaloo immediately, as if that had been her first inclination, too. Her small wings remain clenched to her sides, not quite long enough to cover up her own cutie mark. “Any blowing just gets it all tingly.” She glances around the cluttered Crusader Clubhouse; maybe there is something scattered among the various things they tried before. But among the sports equipment, old cans filled with tree sap, and ripped costumes, nothing seems like it could help.
“Ah can see why Applebaum hated this last year.” Apple Bloom sighs, reminiscing about how her younger sister stormed around the farm, liable to go off at the drop of a Stetson. “Ah wonder how she’s dealin’ with it in Canterlot?”
“Probably has one of her friends helping out,” replies Sweetie Belle, the faint grin that appears on her muzzle growing larger as she pulls out her saddlebags. “Speaking of which…”
Apple Bloom and Scootaloo’s eyes grow wide as Sweetie Belle tugs open the flap with a burst of green magic. They roughly shove back and forth, jostling to get a better look at the contents. Sweetie Belle pulls out coils of tubing, a hoof sized ball, and three brightly colored rods, each about as large as a foreleg.
“What the hay is all that for?” Apple Bloom asks, peering at the green cylinder in her hoof. Not quite hard like a stick of wood, but firm with just a little give. She holds it up to her eye, staring through the small hole to see her sisters through the other side.
“You don’t know?” Scootaloo asks derisively, just enough to make Apple Bloom glare at her through the peephole. The pegasus rolls her eyes as she grabs the purple cylinder, roughly jamming one of the cords of tubing into the hole. She twists it a few times, making sure it is nice and snug, before digging through the saddlebags for a second ball. “Well, I guess that makes sense, what with your dam and all.”
“Hey, don’t talk bad about Applejack!” Apple Bloom nearly shouts, roughly throwing the green cylinder to the floor as she gets ready to pounce Scootaloo. Except that it doesn’t bounce quite right, the front end ricocheting back and smacking her right in the jaw. “Ow!” she exclaims, plopping down on her rump with a heavy thud and quick rub of her chin.
“You okay?” asks Sweetie Belle, dropping the white rod and tubing to inspect her sister.
Apple Bloom opens and closes her jaw; it doesn’t actually hurt that much. It just surprised her, more than anything. She grabs the green cylinder, playfully whacking herself in the cheek a few times. “Nah, I’m fine. Just, what are we supposed to do with these, anyway?” She experimentally opens her mouth, barely able to fit it inside without her teeth scraping along the sides.
Scootaloo snorts. “Well, first off, it doesn’t go in that end. It’s called a ‘cooler’.”
“Oh!” Apple Bloom hastily drops the cooler, backing away a few steps. “But Applejack says that Ah shouldn’t need a cooler to help me through mah heat. That Ah just need to ‘mare up’, and not be reliant on it!”
“Yeah, well, this is day one. Every day after this is supposed to get worse.” Scootaloo’s hoof hovers between her legs; unfortunately, doing that doesn’t help, either. She groans, pulling her hoof away and stamping on the floor. “I don’t know about you two, but I am not going to go two weeks in utter torment while dam gets relieved on day one.”
“Ah thought her heat started, like four days ago,” Apple Bloom points out, “and she’s been jumping on Daddy every chance she gets.”
Sweetie Belle giggles. “Too bad he’s got more self control than her.”
“Anyway,” continues Scootaloo with a venomous glare, “we’re just going to help each other out. Got it?”
“Got it!” Sweetie Belle replies enthusiastically, both young mares looking at Apple Bloom.
“Ah guess,” she reluctantly says, picking the green cooler back up. “So, how does this work exactly?”
“Well, that end,” Scootaloo motions to one end of the cooler, “goes in that end.” Her hoof swings, pointing at Apple Bloom’s cutie mark.
Apple Bloom stares at the cooler in her hoof, then glances back to her flank. “Ah don’t think it’ll fit.”
Scootaloo rolls her eyes. “Well, duh. If it fit easily it wouldn’t get the job done.”
Apple Bloom continues staring at the cooler, the slight shake of her head indicating her firm disbelief.
“Here, let me show you,” Sweetie Belle says, her green aura levitating the white cooler. She fumbles around, trying to part the long hairs covering her marehood at the same time. She lets out an irritated squeak as the cooler slips, the head falling down to the floor.
“Need any help?” asks Scootaloo, hoof fixing the ball on the end of her tubing.
“Nah, I got this.” Sweetie Belle concentrates, gently pulling the long hairs to each side, revealing a delicate line of pink. The cooler levitates to her mouth, a few licks getting the tip nice and moistened.
Apple Bloom and Scootaloo stare, wide eyed, as the blunt tip of the cooler slowly penetrates, one quarter inch after another enveloped and disappearing inside the young mare.
“Oh my Celestia,” Apple Bloom stammers, unable to pull her eyes away from the quivering lips in front of her. “Have you, um, done this before?”
“Twice,” Sweetie Belle struggles to get out, lightly panting as she continues pushing the cooler. It keeps grabbing at her insides, her body trying to force it even deeper. “The first time I bled a bit, but dam said that was normal for a ‘delicate little flower’ like me.”
“Huh,” Apple Bloom says. “Ah bled a bit from there after Ah helped Rainbow with the applebuckin’ back at harvest. Dam thought that was normal, too. Hasn’t happened since.”
Scootaloo nods as the cooler gets almost to the halfway mark. “Yeah, I don’t think any of us need to worry about our hymens. So, next up, we-”
The trio’s eyes grow wide in alarm as two heavy knocks come at the door. Panicking, the three young mares scramble to hide the coolers and tubing as the door slowly opens, cursing their sire’s soft footsteps.
Sweetie Belle tries to tug the cooler out of her marehood, but her inner walls seem to have a quite different idea, keeping the cooler firmly lodged inside of her. She hurriedly spins around, squatting down like her sisters as a hand appears in the doorway.
“Hi, Daddy!” the three fillies chorus, beaming up at their sire. Scootaloo awkwardly reaches a hind leg, pulling one of the lengths of tubing further behind her.
Sweetie Belle’s smile gets a little more forced as the weight of her body continues pushing the cooler deeper inside her. She hides her grimace, a foreleg coming up to wave as Doug pokes his head through, the light of day turning to night behind him and casting the area in long shadows.
“Hey, just wanted to make sure you three were doing okay,” he says, looking each in the eye.
“Yup!” they cheerily reply.
Sweetie Belle lets out a small ‘eep!’ as she feels the cooler seat itself fully inside her, her outer lips closing to contain their prize.
“Good, good,” Doug slowly draws out, a quizzical glance at Sweetie Belle. When she merely smiles back at him he nods. Stars in the sky begin winking into existence, dimly lighting the trio. “Alright, then. We’ll be busy inside, but somepony should be around if you need anything.”
“Okay!” they brightly chorus, waving goodbye. Doug nods a final time, quietly shutting the door behind him.
“Oww,” Sweetie Belle moans, holding her stomach.
“W-where’d it go?” asks Apple Bloom, eyes dancing around the darkened room and trying to spot the wayward cooler. “Did it roll under something?”
“Oh, it’s under something alright,” Scootaloo says, turning on one of the lights. She points to the slight bulge in Sweetie Belle’s belly, then the tubing coming out of her marehood. “I don’t think you’re supposed to go that far in.”
“No,” Sweetie Belle agrees, shaking her head. Her horn lights, but it does little other than part the hairs. “I think it’s stuck.”
“So pull it out,” Apple Bloom says, a hoof grabbing hold of the tubing.
“No, it’s-”
Apple Bloom tugs; Sweetie Belle’s body slips back a little, her outer lips bulging slightly. Apple Bloom grits her teeth, pulling harder as Sweetie Belle braces herself.
The tubing comes out with a light *pop*, Sweetie Belle toppling forward and Apple Bloom backwards.
“Oww,” they both moan, rubbing muzzle and rump.
“Yeah,” Scootaloo groans, “that’s what I was trying to tell you. The tubing isn’t made to pull it out.”
“Well, why didn’t you say somethin’ earlier?” Apple Bloom whines, motioning towards Sweetie Belle’s raised rump. “How’re we supposed to get it out?”
“Well… do we have to?” Scootaloo shrugs her shoulders. “I mean, we could just leave it in there, right?”
“I am not going around with a cooler wedged up inside me.” Sweetie Belle grimaces, rubbing her stomach again. “It hurts going in that deep, and I want it out of me as soon as possible.”
“That’s what she said,” snickers Scootaloo, drawing a glare from Sweetie Belle.
“Come on, you two,” Apple Bloom says diplomatically. “I’m sure we can figure something out.”
“Well, we’ve got tree sap,” Scootaloo offers.
“Uh-uh,” Sweetie Belle says with a shake of her head. “It was hard enough getting that out of there in the first place, no way am I putting it back in.”
“No, you see, it’s really sticky.” Scootaloo demonstrates with a hoof, “So we just get a little on the end, and pop! It’ll come right out.”
“I think she needs more lubrication, not less,” Apple Bloom counters.
“Okay, but where are we going to get that? All I see is jars of tree sap.” Scootaloo's eyes roam around the room, frowning as nothing jumps out at her.
“Why did we even keep all that?” Apple Bloom shrugs at her own question.
“Girls,” Sweetie Belle moans uncomfortably. “Please focus?”
“Okay, how about this,” Apple Bloom cautiously offers, her muzzle drawing up next to Sweetie Belle’s rump. “Sorry if this feels weird.”
“I’m okay with a little- what was that?” Sweetie Belle exclaims, pulling herself away from Apple Bloom.
Apple Bloom pulls her tongue back into her mouth, smacking her lips. “Ah’m just trying to help! Maybe, you know, get you a little more… excited?”
Sweetie Belle pants at the lingering effects of the lick, her body quivering. “O...Okay. Just warn me better next time.”
“Okay,” Apple Bloom agrees with a smile.
Sweetie Belle turns back, and soon the soft squelches and slurps of a tongue running along her outer lips fills the room. She grunts, her muscles tightening, trying to force out the intruder still nestling inside her.
“Where’d you even learn this?” Scootaloo asks in awe, watching as Apple Bloom’s strokes get longer, occasionally even trying to penetrate inside. “With Applejack?”
“Um,” Apple Bloom stammers, briefly pausing her ministrations. “No… watching Rainbow Dash.”
“You watched my dam?” Scootaloo’s smile falls. “Really?”
“She really needs to pay better attention when she’s on the ground,” Apple Bloom says before resuming her licking. She calls through Sweetie Belle’s marehood, “This working?”
“Oh yeah,” Sweetie Belle returns, panting against the floor. Her stomach muscles clench again, forcing half an inch of the cooler out of her marehood.
“Hey, there it is!” Apple Bloom exclaims, excitedly pulling back. She huffs as Sweetie Belle stops clenching, the cooler disappearing back inside. “Hey!”
Sweetie Belle’s tongue lolls out of her mouth, but the expression on her face is anything but euphoric. Her eyes tear up, her body berating her continued excitement but lack of insemination by turning up the heat. “Just…” she moans out, huffing in exhaustion. “Just put the hose back in, and do that again. Scoots, you got a pump ready?”
“Yup!” Scootaloo grabs one of the balls, though she can’t find any of the special liquid. “Um… Sweetie Belle? I think I have some bad news. I don’t see the special sauce.”
“You’re foaling me,” Sweetie Belle groans, gritting her teeth so hard she’d probably bite through one of the coolers if it was in her mouth. “Do we have anything else?”
Scootaloo says after a few seconds of searching, “Um, we have tree sap.”
“...Buck it.” Sweetie Belle thunks her head on the floor. “I’ll try anything.”
Scootaloo opens one of the jars full of tree sap, her hoof getting sticky just unscrewing the lid. She tries to jam as much as possible into the ball, mostly ending up smearing it around.
“Well?” demands Sweetie Belle, her flanks swaying back and forth. Waves of contractions pulse through her inner muscles, trying to trick the cooler inside her into giving up its load. “What’s taking so long?”
“Alright, here,” Scootaloo says exasperatedly, shoving the half-filled ball on the end of the tubing. She squeezes, forcing the viscous liquid through, but it only gets halfway full before she has to remove her hoof, air refilling the ball through a second hole. “Wait, I need to get more.”
“Are we sure this is gonna work?” Apple Bloom says before she resumes her licking, trying to tease out the cooler.
“Well, what else are we going to do?” asks Scootaloo as she slops more tree sap into the ball. “It’s not like we have a colt around who can just-”
The faint clop of hooves can be heard outside, slowly getting louder. Everypony’s ears flatten to their heads, worried glances traded around. The door slowly opens, a brown colt sticking his head through.
Scootaloo perks up at seeing their younger brother. “Hey!” she calls merrily. “We were just talking about you!”
Pomarbo’s eyes trace over the scene in front of him. Scootaloo has a creepy grin spreading across her face. Apple Bloom looks shocked, her head buried behind Sweetie Belle’s nethers, while Sweetie Belle’s grimace doesn’t quite encapsulate the obvious discomfort she is in.
“Come on, you’ll be a really big help.” Scootaloo motions to Sweetie Belle, “Look how much she needs you!”
Pomarbo motions to himself, his mouth opening in disbelief.
“Well, yeah,” Scootaloo says, glancing to his blank flanks. “You don’t have your cutie mark yet, so it’s not like we have to worry. Besides, it’ll be fun!” She nuzzles Sweetie Belle, halfheartedly shaking her head. The unicorn gives a pathetic mewl, shuddering weakly. “I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. Door’s right there. I’m sure we can figure something else out.”
Pomarbo takes a long, long look at the door before his quiet hoofsteps take him next to his sisters. His eyes grow wide at Sweetie Belle’s exposed marehood, the barest tip of the cooler poking out. He had caught glimpses of his sisters before, of course. Just like he’s seen everypony else; it’s nearly impossible not to, especially given his low stature. But never like this, sopping wet and practically begging for a real stallion to replace that replica inside her.
Scootaloo grins as she watches Pomarbo stand, his breath gradually quickening. The barest hint of movement underneath gets her to drop down, leering as she watches his brown member push its way out of his sheath.
“Now what?” Apple Bloom asks, her wide eyes locked as Pomarbo grows to just smaller than one of the coolers.
“Now we get the colt juices to come out, and we put them in the cooler. And that’ll take care of our heats. At least, for now; it’s only good for a day. If that.” Scootaloo motions to Pomarbo. “So, you know, go do your thing.”
Pomarbo stares at Scootaloo, then down at himself. His gazes lingers for a long moment, his excitement beginning to flag, eyes rising again to meet Scootaloo.
“No, no, no!” Scootaloo exclaims, reaching out to the drooping member. “You mean to tell me you’ve never done this before?” Her hoof brushes up against him, a long, slow stroke from base to tip.
Pomarbo stands completely still, a gasp of breath as he twitches. His heart beats in his ears as blood pumps through him, the hoof holding him barely containing the pulsing back and forth.
“Well, it’s all of our first times,” Apple Bloom says with a smile, trying to bolster everypony’s spirits. “So, it’s okay if we’re a little nervous. What happens next?”
“Well, we just have to get him excited enough.” Scootaloo frowns, her hoof barely propping up the brown appendage. “Any ideas?”
Sweetie Belle whimpers as she relaxes, the cooler slipping back inside her and resting at least somewhat comfortably, if not for her body’s continued attempts to try to milk it. “Rarity uses her hoof sometimes.” Three sets of eyes turn to watch her demonstrate. “She, um, just kinda grabs it and goes up and down?”
Scootaloo awkwardly twists her foreleg around to try to grab hold. “Like this? That seems weird.”
Pomarbo whines as Scootaloo’s hoof rotates around, wincing in pain.
“Maybe from up top?” Apple Bloom offers, then testing it out herself. She hops on Pomarbo’s back, forelegs reaching around to grip the hard shaft. She gently squeezes as she slides her hooves up and down, a grin replacing her look of hard concentration. “Mm, you like that?” she whispers, a light nip at her brother’s ear.
Pomarbo hunkers down, an uncomfortable whine escaping his lips. It’s not that he doesn’t like it, but...
“Ugh,” Apple Bloom says as her forelegs start complaining from the unfamiliar movement. She finally gives up, hopping off. “Any other ideas?”
Sweetie Belle moans, pawing at the floor, cooler still firmly lodged inside her.
“Well, we can always try it the old fashioned way,” Scootaloo offers, her tail lifting up and revealing her own flower.
“Gross!” Apple Bloom sticks out her tongue, eyes darting down to Pomarbo’s throbbing member. “Ah don’t want that in me!”
“Come on, it’s not like there’s that much difference from the cooler.” Scootaloo turns around, clenching her stomach muscles, a tiny pearl of red appearing from her parting lips. “Come on, big guy. Just slide it in, right here. Then, when you’re close, you can, like, pull out and help Sweetie Belle out. Okay?”
Pomarbo hesitantly looks between Scootaloo’s marehood, his eyes drawn in as she winks a second time, to Sweetie Belle’s prone form. He grunts, timidly putting one hoof in front of the other until his snout is nearly nestled in her nethers. He gulps, taking a long drag through his nostrils. She smells… different. Enticing. Nothing he’s ever smelled from her before. He leans in a little closer.
Only for a few droplets of yellow to squirt out, spraying him and coating his muzzle.
“I’m sorry!” Scootaloo yells as Pomarbo pulls his head back, nose scrunching up. “I didn’t mean to!”
Pomarbo’s brief bout of displeasure quickly fades at the intoxicating aroma. Scootaloo reeks of need, a strong desire to be rutted into oblivion, to be filled with his seed.
So he does what any good colt would do.
“Oof!” Scootaloo exclaims as two hooves land on her back, digging in for purchase against her wings. “Guess it worked, huh?” Her grin widens, hooves bracing against the floor for what she knows is coming next. “Just-”
Her light scream is muffled by shoving an orange hoof into her mouth, eyes rolling to the ceiling as half of Pomarbo disappears inside of her on the first thrust. He grunts in frustration, the young mare not quite lubricated enough for his liking.
He goes about fixing that by pulling out slightly, then ramming himself further in; her inner walls grip and slide against him, slowly releasing that precious liquid. He grins, euphoric, as he finally reaches the full length of the mare underneath him, unable to push himself in any farther.
Scootaloo’s moans fade as she slams into the wooden floor again and again, eyes barely able to focus on her two sisters staring at her in rapt attention. Her insides burn, begging for that sweet release, that ecstasy of quenching her heat. She can feel the colt inside her getting close, her cervix groaning under the continued assault. Any second now he should pull out, help her sister out, and…
Their world goes blank as the colt above grits his teeth, straining, pushing as deep as he can as he fills her with his life-creating seed.
Scootaloo slowly comes to as Pomarbo slips out of her with a wet, sucking sound. Her euphoric grin only fades when she realizes that she can feel her heat dissipating, eyes turning to her sister. “Hey,” she drawls, slowly pushing herself up. “You were supposed to help Sweetie Belle first.”
Sweetie Belle’s eyes go wide, glancing from the panting colt liable to take a nap at any second to her still-stuffed marehood. “But, um, how is it going to fit? I’m kinda full already.”
“Oh.” Scootaloo looks between her legs, only the tiniest dribble of white escaping, her lips clenching together to keep his seed inside. She smirks. “Po, you think you can go again?”
Apple Bloom snorts as Pomarbo shudders. “If’n he’s anythin’ like Daddy, he’s got another two shots left in him. Maybe more.”
Scootaloo leans down, licking the tiny pearl of white beading on the tip of his cock. She grins as it twitches, a long lick across before she pops the flat head entirely into her mouth. She suckles for a brief second, relishing the sugary taste as her eyes find Apple Bloom. “Oh yeah, this’ll be perfect.”
“Um,” Apple Bloom says as Scootaloo nudges Pomarbo up, the pegasus’ purple mane going around in a circle. Apple Bloom gulps as she stands, turning around and glancing back. Her tail flips to the side, revealing herself to her dazed brother.
That seems to do the trick, or maybe it’s Scootaloo’s continued maneuvering, but Pomarbo’s hooves find their way to her back. Her marehood feels slick; licking off Sweetie Belle has gotten her plenty ready. Her muscles clench as she feels him probing underneath her, her heat briefly relenting as if her body knows she is on the right track.
“You gotta relax,” Scootaloo whispers to Apple Bloom, lightly nipping her sister in the ear. The earth pony tenses briefly but quickly releases that tension, her eyes going wide and breath catching as she feels him slip inside her. “Okay, Po,” Scootaloo continues a little louder, “this time, when you get close, you’re going to pull out. I know that sounds weird, but just do it, okay?”
Pomarbo can barely concentrate on what Scootaloo is saying as he pushes himself fully inside his sister. He bottoms out in Apple Bloom a lot easier than he did with Scootaloo, her inner walls gladly accepting him. Full length thrusts quickly bring her to a mewling, quivering ball. Harder and faster he pounds, rapidly finding himself nearly at his limit. He clenches his eyes shut, nodding his head as he feels that euphoric blankness overtaking him again.
Scootaloo drops her head to the floor, barely able to shove herself into position as Pomarbo pulls out, Apple Bloom crying out in longing despair. Scootaloo’s lips wrap around his head as her eyes grow wide, watching his balls twitch and spasm. She can practically see the waves rippling across the brown member, her tongue tantalizingly dancing along the tip.
The first blast of cum in her mouth is far more than she expected, nearly getting her to gag. She hastily swallows the delectable treat as a second pulse hits her tongue. The member in her mouth continues twitching, depositing more and more of that precious seed, her cheeks bulging to contain it all. Scootaloo staggers to her hooves, swishing the viscous liquid around and suppressing that burning desire to swallow. Her sister needs it more!
Sweetie Belle’s tail flips to the side, her insides pushing the cooler out as far as she can. She groans as her sister’s lips meet her delicate flower, completely encapsulating her precious petals. Air escaping around Scootaloo's lips tickles her belly as she spits more and more of Pomarbo’s seed through the cooler wedged inside her, inseminating her as well as any stallion.
Scootaloo grins as Sweetie Belle relaxes, her heat finally, if temporarily, quenched. The cooler slowly teases out, needing no assistance to finally vacate its fleshy home. It lands on the floor with a wet squelch, Sweetie Belle’s gaping marehood doing little to contain the dribbling cum leaking out. Scootaloo grins as she licks up the excess; no sense in letting any go to waste!
Apple Bloom groans as Pomarbo rests on top of her. His tongue lolls out of his mouth, hot breath panting against her back. Her heat still burns inside her, made all the worse by how close she was. Especially because she can feel him, limply dragging across her moist lips. Her hips starting swaying back and forth of their own accord, rubbing her flower up against the slowly hardening cock. Her whole body starts swaying forward and back, frustration building as she feels him getting closer and closer to parting her lips again.
Pomarbo slowly comes to as he feels himself lightly penetrate his sister again, her sensual rocking getting him hard but no closer to release. He grins as he rectifies this, hooves gripping into Apple Bloom’s muscular back. A lot like what he images riding his dam feels like. He can feel the mare tensing underneath him, begging with her body for him to quench her heat, to give her that blessed relief.
And much as he’d like to have some fun with her, to rut her senseless over and over, the throbbing deep inside him is letting him know in no uncertain terms that three times is all he’ll get, and even that is hurting more than he likes. Her inner walls clench against him, enticing, plaintively pleading for him to release into the desperate mare underneath him.
So, he does what any good stallion would do.
Apple Bloom’s breath bursts out of her, leaving her panting against the floor. A coolness spreads through her body as the weight leaves her shoulders, Pomarbo flopping off to the side and laying still. She can feel her inner walls tightening back up, relieved of their duty like any honorable guardsmare turning in for the night. She slumps over, joining her sisters in cuddling around their brother.
“Hey, Po?” Scootaloo asks, her voice as full of worry as her womb is full of his seed.
Pomarbo merely grunts, unwilling to raise his head off the floor.
Scootaloo stares at the three black apple seeds on Pomarbo’s flank, each with a small green shoot bursting free. “When did you get your cutie mark?”
