The ache in Apple Bloom's legs was a reminder that she wasn't as strong as her sister, and as reminders went it was none too subtle. She almost regretted not asking Applejack for help.

Almost.

A cartful of cider kegs would have been nothing for Applejack. A tree what took Apple Bloom three firm bucks to harvest, her sister could do in one.

But it was summertime, and the trees needed pruning. Applejack didn't need to waste precious time helping her haul a little cider just so she could spend the day with her friends.

That was what she kept telling herself, anyway. She knew Applejack wouldn't have thought twice if she'd actually asked.

Apple Bloom welcomed the cool breeze that wafted through her mane. It wouldn't be cooler for too much longer, especially with the sun already out the way it was. Ponyville summers were the sort where mosquitoes came to eat a pony alive after dark, where humidity clung like a second coat and left one feeling all sticky.

Not that she wasn't sticky already, what with all the sweat clinging to her brow. Cider was heavier than it looked.

But she wasn't a foal anymore, she could handle herself just fine. No need to have her siblings fussing and babying her like she was still some blank flank.

Apple Bloom stopped before a fork in the path. She briefly considered going left to visit Granny Smith for a bit, but decided against it.

With a silent apology, she turned the cart rightwards. She’d come back another time.

Almost immediately, the sound of a faint buzzing caught her ear. She glanced behind to see a familiar orange pegasus, rushing towards her on a blue scooter.

Speak of Tirek, and he’d appear.

Apple Bloom's muzzle broke out in a wide smile as she waved to her friend. Maybe she'd get a little help with these kegs after all.

“Hey, Scoots!” she called.

Scootaloo came to a skidding halt, right against Apple Bloom’s cart. “Hey yourself.” Her bold, toothy grin would have made even Rainbow Dash proud. “You’re out early. I thought I was gonna be the first one here.”

“Didn’t think you could beat a farmin’ gal at rising in the morn, did ya?” Apple Bloom snickered softly. “Applejack’s right. Townponies are gettin’ pretty soft these days.”

Scootaloo merely stuck her tongue out. “Nyeh.” Her mirth dissipated, however, at the sight of the fork in the road. “You need a moment?”

Apple Bloom looked towards the path leading to Granny Smith, shaking her head vigorously. “Naw,” she replied. “Wouldn’t be like Granny Smith to want us mopin’.”

“I miss her.”

“We all do.” Apple Bloom turned to her friend with a small smile. “But y’know what she’d say right now if she saw us like this.” She raised her hoof, shaking it as she screwed her face up in imitation of the elder pony. “If y’all’re gonna keep cryin’ fit to water the fields, at least do it fer somethin’ worth cryin’ about! I ain’t worth yer misery, ya loonies!”

Their shared giggles rose around the branches of Sweet Apple Acres, slowly sinking into a silence over which only the wind could be heard.

It was Apple Bloom who broke it first. “She really liked you, y’know.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure she did. What with you and yer scooter, doing all those tricks. She swore you’d be somepony famous.”

Scootaloo’s lips tightened a little at those words, as she turned away to scratch at her hoof. “Yeah. Well, not everypony’s cut out for the big leagues, right? It’s not like I’ve got much of a shot at something like that.”

“Sure ya do!” Apple Bloom clopped her hooves together. “I mean, I saw what you did on Ponyville Bridge just that other day. That was crazy! I know if ya put your mind to it, you co-”

“It’s not happening, alright?” Scootaloo snapped. Considering how quickly her eyes widened, she immediately regretted her outburst. “Sorry.” Scootaloo looked down, digging into the ground with a hoof. “It’s just kind of a sore subject for me.”

“Yeah,” Apple Bloom said. She should have known better than to press the point, and elected to change the subject. “C’mon, we gonna stand around all day? Or we gonna get going and drink some cider?”

“Cider.” Scootaloo’s face brightened, as she quickly lashed Apple Bloom’s cart to her scooter. “Yeah, some cider sounds good.” Without another word they were off, taking the path towards the old clubhouse.

The sound of branches rustled around Apple Bloom as she walked along. The rows of trees danced a little as the wind ran through them, conjuring memories from years ago when she was still small enough to dash beneath those branches without a care in the world. Now, whenever she went out into the fields, she had to struggle not to trip over them.

It wasn't long before the old clubhouse crested the horizon, and Apple Bloom couldn’t help but take a little pride in what she saw there.

It wasn't just a clubhouse anymore. She'd made it into a home, tucked away in the privacy of the orchard.

“Whoa,” Scootaloo remarked, tapping her hoof on the walkway leading up towards the door. “This is new.”

“Mhm.” Pride seeped into Apple Bloom’s voice. “I did it all. Everything, down to the varnish on every plank.”

And she had done it all. Nopony else. That was all her. Maybe it was a silly thing to be proud of, but she was proud of it anyway. It wasn't a barn or a silo, but thie was still her work.

“Anypony else know about it?”

“Just Applejack and Big Mac,” Apple Bloom answered. “Not a whole lot of other ponies wandering around these parts.”

“You should be proud of yourself,” Scootaloo remarked earnestly, looking with genuine amazement at the woodwork. “There aren’t a lot of ponies who’re this good with their hooves.”

Apple Bloom nodded silently. Sure, it was good to hear it from one of her best friends. Still, it felt like a parent's applauding at a school play. It didn’t really count, not in a way that actually mattered.

Her hooves clopped along the planks as she rolled one of the kegs along, stepping inside for just a brief breather. Tucked away in a corner, several books caught Apple Bloom’s eye, stacked neatly where she’d left them.

Lessons of Neighponese Architecture.

Classical Buildings of Ancient Roam.

A Study of Old Canterlot Style.

Her heart ached a little at the sight of them. It was almost too painful to think about the things she wanted to do. And dear Luna, how she wanted them so bad.

“Hey! Sweetie’s here!”

Scootaloo’s excited voice called through the door, and Apple Bloom was grateful for the distraction.

“Hey, girls!” Sweetie greeted. She was all smiles.

And so was Apple Bloom. Just for today, at least, it was going to be like old times. Like when they were fillies, together in their little old clubhouse.

Author's Note

But there’s nothing left for me
This is all I’m gonna be
In a land for everypony
Ain’t nothing left for me