Snowed Out

Chapters

Day One
Day Two
Day Three
Day Five
Day Six
Day Four
Year One

Day One

Applejack stared into the white, and the huge bare tree where her front fender used to be. Her mind slowly unlocked, then raced.

Was she injured? It didn’t seem so. All that hurt was where the seat belt dug into her shoulder, and square on the forehead where the airbag caught her.

With no small effort she unclenched her jaw. Crisp, frigid air hit her through the broken windshield.

“You okay, Rarity?”

Applejack looked over as she spoke. Like Applejack, Rarity sported a shiner on her forehead. The girl was patting herself down, eyes still wide in shock at the last twenty seconds.

The words seemed to cinch her back to reality. Rarity turned her head, still very much afraid as she cast a quick gaze over Applejack’s body.

“Fine,” she said breathlessly. “You?”

“Sore, but nothing’s broke.”

Rarity made to unbuckle, then hesitated. The car sat on a forty-five degree angle, nose downhill into the tree. Their seat belts were all that held them in place.

Protective instincts kicked Applejack into motion. “Wait there, I’ll get around and help you.”

Rarity nodded. “Be careful, there’s glass everywhere.”

Applejack planted her feet near the dashboard and gingerly unbuckled, holding tightly to the strap to keep upright. Her first attempt to open the door met resistance – she brought one boot up and delivered a few powerful kicks, shoving aside the blocking snow.

She slipped to the ground and instantly regretted it. Loose white snow went up past her boots, all the way to the seat of her pants. A little slid inside her jeans, pricking her calves with points of unprotected chill.

More wading than walking, Applejack circled around the front of the car. No smoke and no smell of gas, at least, though they hit the tree hard enough to wrap a good two feet around it. New flakes dusted her so fast it was like she wore white polka-dots by the time she pulled open Rarity’s door.

She stood in the way. “Rarity, why don’t you sit tight a moment while I scope things out?”

Rarity was already unbuckling. “No, let’s move together.”

Applejack sucked in her lip, eyeing the woman up and down. Rarity wasn’t completely unequipped for the weather, but it wasn’t great either. She had that frou-frou tall white hat that didn’t even cover the ears, and thin knit gloves that would turn to icicles the minute they got wet. Her fancy blue jacket and sweater would handle the core, at least, and her black winter leggings looked downright cozy.

...Honestly, Applejack had it worse. Her bomber-style winter cap was a good choice, but beneath it was just a thick vest, sweater, and jeans. The kind of things you throw on for a snowball fight in your own front yard.

Or to get to your car on the way to a sleepover.

Draining guilt stole quickly over Applejack’s will. She screwed up. And Rarity would suffer.

She set her jaw, and didn’t move. “Nah, you stay warm. I got us into this mess, I’ll get us–”

“None of that, Darling.”

Rarity unbuckled. Using Applejack’s shoulder as a stable base of support, she briskly swung herself outside. Rarity shivered by reflex as her legs sunk down, but made no complaint.

With Applejack in the lead, tromping down snow as best she could, the pair followed their tire tracks back to the road. The car had slid downhill some thirty feet from an unmarked turn – Applejack’s foot was still sore from slamming the brakes in vain.

“Good thing you hit that tree,” Rarity mused.

Applejack gave her a haunted look. Rarity huffed and pointed down the embankment. “I said none of that. Look how far down it goes. If we fell to the bottom before hitting something…”

She shivered again. “Goodness, it really doesn’t bear thinking about.”

Applejack glumly following her point. “Well if I didn’t hit it, we’d still be on our way to Fluttershy’s right now.”

Rarity airily brushed back her hair, swinging immediately into top form. “Darling, I saw what happened. There was no sign, no guardrail, and with all this infernal snow the way ahead looked straight as could be. As soon as we get back you may be assured I am calling the county government to have this addressed.”

Applejack was only too happy to accept that logic. Rarity hating her for this… that didn’t bear thinking, either.

“Speaking of which, we should probably call for a tow.” Applejack raised her boot, noting that even the paved road was covered past her ankles. “Or a plow.”

Rarity nodded as they produced their phones. “And we should let the girls know we’re likely a no-show. A pity, I was looking forward to helping Fluttershy decorate her new dorm. She’ll be a college freshman only once, you know. I hope she makes the most… of…”

She trailed off as they stared at their screens. No signal, no internet. No messages but a government snowstorm warning from twenty minutes ago.

Applejack threw her gaze upwards to the black-gray clouds. “This was supposed to hit further south!”

Rarity said nothing. She fidgeted with her phone, tapping options and holding it above her head in vain effort to reconnect.

Applejack looked one way down the road, then the other. Nothing but snow-covered asphalt as far as the eye could see. Thick trees to either side spoke of how far they’d come from Canterlot, with not a power line or even empty fields in sight.

Her throat bobbed. Snowflakes melted on her nose.

Applejack’s eyes moved back over to Rarity, still trying to get a signal. Her stern optimism was cracking – the lips pursed and eyebrows raised with tight, quiet fear.

Applejack felt it, too. The looming knowledge, the realization setting in.

We’re stuck. In a blizzard. Maybe forty miles out from the furthest Canterlot suburb, with no sign of civilization save the road itself.

Fresh chill hit her, not just from the snow. Canterlot was getting hammered, no question about it. The plows would focus on the city, making sure all the people could get to and from work. They’d have to hit the country roads soon enough… how soon? Three days? A week? Would they even see the wreck? Would they even stop?

Rarity put her phone away. She rubbed her arms, cheeks red and breath misty in the cold air. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes as they gazed down the roads, finding no more than Applejack.

Somehow, the sight snapped Applejack’s mind into place. She began thinking right for the first time since this happened. Guilt was useless, and so was fretting what she couldn’t change. A big waste of time when there was work to be done.

“Hey.”

The word fled her mouth, winning over Rarity’s blue eyes. With tears at their edge, all Applejack could do was smile as big and warm as she could to take them away.

“We’ll be fine.”

“Really?” came the response. Not a challenge – a question.

Her brain was back in order, and Applejack nodded with confidence she really felt. “Really. I’ve got some survival stuff in the back, including a hatchet and matches. Plenty of wood for fuel all around us, and plenty of water once we melt it. Let’s get some shelter together before it gets dark, then we can figure out our next move.”

Rarity gave a light little laugh that sent Applejack’s spirits even higher. “Goodness, I forgot who I was with! You must be an old hand at roughing it like this.”

That splashed a bit of snow on Applejack’s mood. Sure, she’d gone camping with the family now and then, taking Applebloom’s friends along for the ride. But that was a question of propane griddles, tents, bottled water… to say nothing that they sure as shucks didn’t do it in the winter.

No point bringing that up. She nodded, but couldn’t quite lie. “I know a thing or two. Don’t worry your pretty head, I’ll get us out of this.”

Rarity’s smile at that seemed a bit… stern, but Applejack’s brain had already moved on. The car was exposed, uncomfortable, and probably a little dangerous. She saw plenty of pine trees down the embankment; they seemed ideal for making a lean-to. If nothing else the pair could camp out beneath one for at least a little protection.

Not daring to drop her smile, Applejack led the way back down. A few steps past the car, Rarity called from over her shoulder.

“Do you see that?”

Applejack did – a dark, square shape among the trees and snow. They trudged on, neither voicing their hope.

Applejack wasn’t disappointed at what they found. Not a house with electricity and working phones, but a lucky break regardless: four solid wooden walls, with one half-sized like a stable to make an over-large open door. A few inches’ distance at the top of each wall let in light and snow, but only a dusting had sneaked in to the empty room. Her boots clattered on the white cushion, finding stone beneath.

Rarity seemed more curious than relieved or disappointed. She poked at the brown-painted wood, voicing her first guess.

“Some… park ranger’s storage?”

“Don’t know,” Applejack said cheerfully. “Don’t care. This is a world better than what I was planning. I’m gonna fetch my hatchet and get some branches together for a fire. Then I’ll prune some evergreens so we can have something of a bed tonight.”

Rarity nodded. “What shall I do?”

“Stay here and rest, it’s been a day.”

Applejack called it over her shoulder, already moseying out. The hatchet was in the back, in the old sports bag along with the rest of her inadequate emergency kit. No sense carrying everything around now, she had work to do.

Labor cleared her mind pleasantly, as it always did. Fallen timber served well enough, with a few quick chops carving longer pieces into manageable chunks. Reckoning they’d need all the wood she could gather and then some, Applejack brought her armful to their shelter then set out again in a different direction. No tree was in falling distance, but beyond they sat thick and waiting for her. Another armful, then another, kicking and stomping through the snow.

At the third trip, Rarity was gone from the shelter. Applejack didn’t think about it until she came back from the fourth.

“Where’s she gotten too?” Applejack grumbled. “Don’t she know this is serious?”

A deep breath. “Rarity!”

“Over here, Darling!”

Applejack followed the voice up the slope. Rarity stood next to the car with her sketchbook of all things, looking down to it and idly clicking her mechanical pencil.

“We might have to burn that,” Applejack said, meaning it as a joke.

“If we must, we must.” Rarity shrugged. “For the moment, it seems prudent to take stock of what we have.”

She turned it to Applejack, presenting not a sketch but a bulleted list in flowing cursive.

*2 sets winter wear (mixed)
*2 sets pajamas for sleepover (light)
*2 sets clothes change (undergarments, shirts)
*2 sets hygiene supplies (toothbrush etc.)
*1 car (totaled. Glass, gasoline, seat padding?)
*2 books, 3 fashion magazines
*1 guitar
*2 phones (no charger)
*1 tire jack, air pump, cross-bar, pocket knife, hatchet
*1 first aid kit
*1 blanket (thin)
*1 flashlight
*1 box 100 matches
*2 travel mugs
*1 metal kitchen bowl (dessert bowl)

*2 water bottles (half-empty)
*4 bags chips
*4 package cookies
*1 bag apples

A smile tugged at Rarity’s mouth. “It’s quite lucky we were in charge of bringing snacks, but really: apples? I don’t know whether to laugh or kiss you.”

“You can kiss me if you want,” Applejack said without thinking.

Then she thought, seizing Rarity’s brief silence. “Dumb joke, sorry. It’s a healthy snack, you know? Eat nothing but chips and pizza all weekend and you’d feel it on Monday.”

“Oooh, don’t say pizza.” Rarity patted her stomach. It was past dinnertime. “Goodness, I wish we were in charge of the pizza instead.”

Applejack shrugged. “We would have gotten it at the college, not in Canterlot.”

“Darling, don’t interrupt when I’m wishing.”

Applejack laughed, showing teeth whiter than the snow. “Heck, I wish I had a proper ax. It’ll be a heap of work keeping us warm with just the small stuff I can cut with a hatchet.”

Rarity hummed in her throat, the smile tugging higher. “A nice, cozy cabin with soft beds and thick blankets.”

“Electricity and video games.”

“A spa room with an expert masseuse.”

“Aw come on, Rares!” Applejack gave her a playful shove. Rarity returned it, and they went back and forth, laughing all the while. Rarity’s high-pitch titters which sometimes grew imperfect and coarse, and Applejack’s twangy laugh that became shrill and girly when she got too loud.

They were still chuckling as they made their way to the shelter, each with an armful of supplies. Rarity busied herself arranging the harvested evergreens into something of a bed while Applejack got the fire going. Matches, wood, and a few tissues soon blazed things to life cheerfully.

Kneeling, Rarity scooched closer – the stone floor was uncomfortable, but with darkness settling she became keenly aware of the cold.

“Shall I move the bed in?”

“Nah, we can’t have sparks hitting it.” Applejack yawned, sitting down hard at Rarity’s side. She winced and smiled at the landing. “Maybe we can figure out something tomorrow.”

A stomach growled, so loud they didn’t know whose.

Rarity gave a half-smile and shrugged. “Apples for dinner, I suppose.”

“It won’t be so bad.” Applejack produced a pair of sticks she had whittled to sharp points. “I’ll show you how to make roast apples.”

She walked Rarity through the process, not that there was much to teach. Cook it like a marshmallow until the juices sizzled out, then a little bit more. The fruit was sweet and piping hot, warming them from the inside. Applejack sat close to the flames with one leg spread and the other tucked beneath, giving a small platform for Rarity to sit off the ground. They leaned into each other, sharing warmth and munching until nothing of the roast fruit remained.

Then, still hungry, they tore open a bag of chips and devoured it between them.

“This is terrible for my diet,” Rarity said around a crunching mouth.

Applejack’s lips went tight, though she remained smiling. “Good news, Sugar: starting tomorrow, we’re both on a diet.”

Rarity swallowed, then sipped down the last of her water bottle. “How should we… ah, handle the food situation?”

Applejack made to shrug, then caught herself.

You’re the one who has to know. You’re the one who’ll get her through this.

She spoke carefully, trying to stick with what she knew. “I read somewhere that pine needles are edible. Maybe we can make that into something like tea and start doing that for lunch, then something substantial for dinner. As substantial as we can make it, anyway. These are thick woods, so maybe we’ll find something we can eat or use.”

“Mmm, sounds lovely,” Rarity mumbled. The stress of the day, the warm relief of the fire, and the massive salt-bomb she just ate were taking their toll. She rested fully into Applejack, her slim frame snuggling down beneath the blanket draped around their backs.

Applejack yawned and blinked heavily. Time to go to bed, such as it was. She mused putting out the fire, then decided against. Errant sparks were less dangerous than the cold, and the smoke was nicely filtering out through the top openings in the wall. Almost like this place was built to handle a fire.

A mystery. She was too tired for mysteries. Applejack moved on her knees, gently escorting the half-asleep Rarity to their pile of evergreens. Leaving the fireside was minor torture, but Rarity and the blanket remained toasty from it. It wasn’t so bad.

Applejack felt the floor beneath the firs. Maybe tomorrow they’d spruce it up a little.

...Heh. ‘Spruce’ it up.

Pinkie would love it, though Applejack might have to tell her what a spruce tree was first. She smiled drowsily, eyes closed, with Rarity softly breathing between her arms.

Rarity… gotta keep her safe. Gotta keep her warm.

The pair snuggled closer, seeking each others heat, and that was the last thing they knew until morning.

Day Two

Applejack woke cold, stiff, and sore.

So she got to work. A few cookies plus the last of her water made for a good enough breakfast, then she grabbed the hatchet and headed out. They’d already burned through most of what she was able to gather yesterday. Small wood didn’t last long, and that was all the hatchet could get.

The motion roused Rarity – no help for it. The girl was obviously quietly miserable, sporting baggy eyes and wincing as she rose from the bed. She lit a new fire and hunched next to it, seemingly motionless until Applejack returned with the first load of the day.

“Water.”

Applejack blinked. “Hm?”

Rarity licked her cracked lips. “What should we do for water? Of course we’re surrounded by the stuff, but don’t we need to… filter it, or somesuch?”

Applejack rumbled in her throat, musing a confident lie before opting for honesty. “No idea. We gotta heat the snow first anyway to drink, so I reckon boiling it will make it safe as can be.”

“A shame we only have two mugs,” Rarity frowned, then brightened. “Ah! The mixing bowl should work. We brought it for the chips, but it’s metal, it should survive hot water. I’ll get started on that now.”

“Don’t wander further than the car,” Applejack coached.

Rarity gave a light ‘hmph,’ then stood abruptly and brushed past her out the door, nose to the air.

Applejack stared after the girl for an extra second, then turned, shaking her head.

“Just misses her beauty sleep.” Applejack mumbled the words, not fully believing them but wondering what else it could be.

Work gave her a steady rhythm, though the lack of food slowed her down. She didn’t feel hungry, but with nothing but apples and junk for fuel she was sluggish and fought down a building headache. One load, then another.

Rarity kept herself busy, to good effect. Applejack’s next return found the girl heating water with her shiny metal bowl, and on her next their little shack smelled like a Christmas store. Rarity hummed a pop song, stirring her boiling, green concoction with a stick. Things like little green worms thrashed in the water, though a fast blink connected the dots. Applejack had said pine needles were edible, didn’t she? She had been thinking of biting them off branches like cob corn. This would be better…

Probably. The mug Rarity proudly gave Applejack seemed like a barely-green tea, with most of the needles having fused into chunks with the ‘worms’ impression still fresh in mind.

Rarity set to hers immediately, and Applejack followed. The irony of being grossed out more than her prissy friend would have been too much to bear. Applejack braced as she sipped… then shrugged and relaxed. Past the Christmas smell, it barely tasted like anything at all. Like one of those cheap teas she swore were made from grass.

Then it hit her gut. The warmth blossomed out, giving heat and comfort to her chilled body. She drank it down fast as she could, ignoring the protests of her scalded tongue. They poured out the bowl into a second mug for each – it was twice as thick from needles settling to the bottom, but not less welcome. They sat down on their little bed and enjoyed it slowly in silence. After all that happened… a break was nice. Even from talking.

The mug emptied too fast. Applejack was hungry enough that she began fishing out the remnants with her finger. A feminine ‘Ahem’ interrupted, and she looked up to find Rarity presenting a white plastic spoon.

Applejack grinned as she accepted. “Found it in your pocket?”

Rarity smirked around her mug. “No, in your glove compartment. About ten of those little take-out packages with cutlery, condiments, and napkins, along with some ketchup packets.

“Yeah, well,” Applejack chuckled. “Junk accumulates. I don’t use them, I hate wasting, so I throw them in the glove box.”

Rarity tittered. “I wasn’t complaining, Darling. I went through the car again this morning looking for anything we missed. There were two granola bars behind them as well, making for quite a nice haul.”

She seemed to catch herself from her cheer, giving a quiet sigh. “Likely, the last haul. Unless we start beating your doorframes into spear tips or cannibalizing the seats for stuffing.”

“Last one might not be a bad idea,” Applejack mused. “The car’s a loss. But… hey.”

She reached over, sliding two fingers beneath Rarity’s chin and tilting it up. “Keep your chin up, Rares. We got all we need to make it.”

Rarity nodded into Applejack’s hand. “What should I do next?”

“Keep warm.” Applejack stood upright, then hid a wince. Rough night, car crash… her body was hurt in more places than one, and was finally reminding her of it. Especially the left shoulder, where the seat belt caught her.

No help for it. Walking outside told her at once that it was several degrees warmer in their little shelter. Good for there, tough coming out. Sweat from yesterday’s fear and today’s labor clung clammily to her sides.

“We’ll be a lot colder if we run out of wood,” Applejack mumbled, steeling past the pain and chill. Her headache, sedated by the hot drink, tore back in a fury.

The soreness grew as she worked, chopping low branches and gathering fallen wood. Any motion with her left arm sent spikes out from her shoulder. Though she swung with the right, she was still lifting, grabbing, pulling…

Applejack stopped to rub her shoulder, but that only incensed the pain. “What is wrong with me?”

“You survived a car crash, Darling.”

Applejack turned, finding a second set of boot prints in the snow leading back to the shelter, ending where Rarity stood. With elbows out and fists curled petulantly upon her hips, the girl scowled in a very Rarity-like fashion, though for the life of her Applejack had no idea why.

Applejack sniffed and coughed wetly. “You should get back inside.”

“Yes, let’s go back inside.” Nose to the air, Rarity marched forwards, took the branches from Applejack’s arms, and turned back to the shelter. No less confused than before, Applejack moved to resume work before belatedly realizing Rarity snatched the hatchet as well.

By the time she reached home base, Rarity was already on the bed. “Sit down, Darling.”

Applejack obeyed – it never did any good to fight with Rarity. They occupied the same spots they had drinking the tea, though Rarity knelt facing Applejack and took each hand in her own.

“Look at me.”

Rarity’s eyes were brighter than the snow, bluer than her jacket. Applejack was never the best with eye contact, and couldn’t suppress a gulp.

Rarity’s eyebrows furrowed up, her expression wavering from its stern beginnings. “I hate the way you’re treating me.”

“Sorry,” Applejack said, then squinted away. What did she do? They were all under stress, but she hadn’t snapped or yelled or…

“I’m not made of glass,” Rarity said, tightening her grip. Much smaller than Applejack’s hands, but they had strength. “I’m not a helpless damsel who needs protecting. We need to work together to get through this, and that means you need to let me help you.”

Applejack immediately put on a wide grin, hiding behind folksy humor. “Shucks, Rares, don’t worry about that. I got us into this mess, I’ll get us out.”

Rarity’s softening vanished in a heartbeat, and her glare returned. “No. What did I say? None of that. It wasn’t your fault, and I tire of repeating the obvious. I refuse to sit here uselessly any longer.”

“You’re making more water,” Applejack noted.

“Which is warm and easy and primarily involves waiting. We can take shifts, and that is just what we will do. Look at you – right by the fire, and you’re still shivering!”

It was warmer inside, but not by much. Applejack nodded and hugged herself, pushing from their bed to hunch over the flames. “Why ain’t you?”

“Because I haven’t been working up a sweat for two days in the same clothes.” Rarity pointed to their overnight bags, stowed safely in a corner. “Put on your spares. Wash yourself with the hot water a bit. Take stock, and maybe see if you can make the bed a little less terrible.”

She stood abruptly, hefting the ax. “I shall ‘tag in,’ as they say!”

“Wait – wait!”

Applejack stood as well, one hand up in a ‘stop’ motion. “Hold the phone. You ever use one of those before?”

Rarity stuck out her lip. “I’m not an idiot, Darling.”

“Grab that big stick over there. Show me you know how.”

“Applejack, I assure you that–”

“Rares.”

The words had finality, arresting the argument in its tracks. Applejack folded her arms, chin tilt down, frowning as Rarity lapsed to silence.

Applejack breathed in deep, ignoring the twinge in her shoulder. She let it out with a small chuckle, smiling slowly.

“We’re going to get out of this,” Applejack began. Rarity held her gaze and said nothing. “We got water, and we got heat. The food situation will get mighty uncomfortable but it ain’t like we’re stranded for months. We’ll be fine. But one of the ways we might not be fine is if some damn-fool thing happens. If you cut yourself real bad, or… or make like me and push yourself past the limit, getting yourself sweaty and sick.”

She gestured to the ax in Rarity’s hand. “I’ll show you how to use that right. Stick to the smaller branches, the ones you can chop enough to break in just a few swings. Don’t climb no trees, don’t go out of sight of the shelter. And pay powerful close attention each and every time you swing that. If something bad happens it won’t be on the first swing, but the fiftieth after you get careless.”

Rarity took a breath of her own, then nodded. She chopped one of the longer branches for Applejack, who corrected her grip and let her go again. Then, with a last few words of advice, she was off.

Applejack hesitantly turned on her phone, saw there was still no connection, and turned it back off. Had to be careful with no chance of a recharge. Then taking good advice for exactly that, she stripped herself to the waist in the comparative warmth of the shelter. Peeling the damp undershirt brought fresh chill, but paradoxical warmth quickly followed as her skin dried by the flames.

A quick self-survey confirmed her suspicions, revealing an ugly black bruise on her left shoulder. If she hadn’t been buckled in… well, good thing she was.

Dipping her hand into the heated water, Applejack briskly washed her face, bruise, and pits. She awkwardly dried off with the old undershirt, beat it out as best she could, and hung it on a nail protruding from the wall. The new shirt went on quickly, cold but dry. Applejack reasoned her pajama shirt would work well enough for a third – hopefully the first would dry out if she needed more from there. New socks and a quick change into new underwear completed the swap.

Buttoning on her flannel, sweater, and vest felt downright cozy from there. The headache remained, but it was dull and easily ignored. She puttered outside, actually finding it in her to enjoy the brisk air just as Rarity returned with her first armful of wood.

A thought came, and Applejack nodded towards the car. “Gonna take a quick walk. There’s something needs doing that should have come first.”

“How long?” Rarity asked.

“Just a few minutes.” Applejack winked. “No worries girl, I won’t cheat on my break.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” A grin sneaked around the edges of Rarity’s mouth, and they went their separate ways. The snow was still knee-deep on the slope, but at least it had stopped coming down.

Applejack passed the car, couldn’t quite bring herself to look at it. A close call that could have been so much worse. A lesson to not take anything for granted.

The road was still piled under. A look right and left showed no plow conveniently on the way, and the gray sky warned the snowing could resume at any time.

But the plows might come, too. Rather, they would. Any day now.

Applejack worked briskly. She jammed a long stick into the ground, using her air pump as a hammer to stake it in firm. Then she speared her red handkerchief nice and high by the side of the road.

Bright and red. Even in all this you could see it for miles. At least, she hoped you could. It was the best she could do for now.

The trudge downhill was easier. Rarity lagged with her third load, so Applejack swapped back in. More evergreens for the bed, branches for the fire, and needles for they closest thing they had to a vegetable. Dinner was another roast apple and another bagful of chips, though slicing each apple and adding a pepper packet at least amused their taste buds with variety.

Their stomachs, however, were not content. A few cookies silenced the gurgling. Lethargic and tired, they ate in mostly silence, occupying the same seats as before – Applejack sprawled next to the fire, with Rarity perched upon her knee. Evening passed into full darkness, and they crawled into bed. With the musty car blanket on top, they curled towards each other and were asleep within moments.

Day Three

It was harder for Applejack to open her eyes today. She awoke with every limb half-numb, wrapped desperately around Rarity for the slightest touch of warmth. Stiff soreness gripped her whole body. She grimaced in anticipation, knowing it would only feel worse when she got up.

She had to. It was so cold in here.

Rarity was already awake, and clearly no more comfortable. They traded a wan smile and forced their legs to stand.

The fire had gone out again last night. The thin wood they could cut with a hatchet didn’t last long at all. They should gather more pine branches, try to insulate themselves a little better. But every armful of that was one less of real wood.

They munched cookies and snarfed cold apples for breakfast. Both moved lethargic, quiet, and slow. Rough night, cold morning, and sweet mercy was Applejack hungry. They split and devoured the precious granola bars, giving the closest thing they had to a full meal in two days.

A few jumping jacks and the almost-substantial food cleared the worst of it, though a tired fog remained between Applejack’s ears.

“I miss coffee,” she murmured.

Rarity gave a valiant smile. “And steak.”

They headed out together this time, snapping off low evergreen branches and gathering fallen wood. The decision was made to save fuel, letting them hold off on starting the fire until lunch. But talk of such economy soon drifted to old camp-outs, and then to vacations, family, the girls… for the first time since the crash, they found themselves idly chatting about all and nothing. The rising sun made the world glistening and bright, at last free of clouds. The smells of nature and beauty of smooth layered snow surrounded them, and with anxiety fading with their new routine, Applejack found she could actually enjoy it all.

She wasn’t alone. Rarity stared off now and then as they worked. The snow on the branches, the bright blue sky above. Applejack dusted off a fallen tree to let them sit a spell, taking it in, leaning into each other without a word needed in exchange.

Until inevitably, their stomachs spoke.

Only on the way back did Applejack notice Rarity was blinking rapidly. She chalked it to sun on the snowscape until starting the fire and turning to see Rarity in her orange plastic glasses.

“My contacts were driving me nuts,” Rarity grumbled. “Don’t look at me.”

“You look cute,” Applejack tried.

“I look fifty.”

Applejack worked on the tea while Rarity arranged the new pine branches on their bed, then they both huddled around the fire and took their drinks. Idyllic though the scenery might be, it was still cold inside and out.

The hot drink was as heavenly as before, but Applejack endured more than enjoyed the second cup. “Pine tea is getting a mite old.”

“It’s who you share it with that matters, Darling.”

Applejack let it rest at that for a moment before setting a hand on Rarity’s shoulder. “It sure does. You holding up?”

“Well enough. Don’t you fret over me.”

Rarity repositioned to her knees, giving a hiss and wince as sore muscles made their protest. “But before we go exploring again, I am quite tired of sitting on the ground. Let’s get the seat cushions from your car.”

Applejack tossed the idea in her head – the car was toast, so no harm there. She would honestly rather keep working at the wood situation while it was still bright out, but maybe a concession to comfort would do them well? She still didn’t trust their bed near the fire, so a few cushions for chairs might do wonders.

She scooched closer to the already-dying flames. The stone grated on her sore butt, and chilled her through the pants. That hashed it.

“Good idea, Rares.”

Snow had accumulated in the ‘corner’ of the hill, creating a difficult trudge to their wreck. Wind and elements had dusted the inside in white, making it seem like years had passed instead of days.

Applejack gave it a long, slow stare. A thirty year-old heap she had owned for two, bought for a song in high school and carefully repaired. Lots of memories, now buried in snow.

And glass. She heaved up a shrug and got to work, reminding Rarity to be careful. She’d never actually taken out the seat cushions before, but a brief search showed them to be held in by buttoned straps, long-since rusted tight. Easy enough to saw through with the knife.

Freeing the first cushion revealed three inches of foam covered in ripped, stained leather. In current circumstances, a piece of Heaven.

The work was easy enough. Applejack left Rarity to keep going and clambered up the embankment in search of a better view. The tire tracks were all but gone, buried in snow. Only the flatness and firmness beneath her boots let Applejack know when she reached the road. Her little flag still hung up from yesterday, and the road itself remained white and unplowed. The brief clarity of the morning’s sky had again been replaced by gray overcast, with even darker clouds visible in the distance.

She gazed down the road, wondering how far she could see. A few miles, maybe less? If they started walking tomorrow morning, how far could they get?

We ain’t on the moon. Someone would likely find us by day’s end. A plow, a truck. If nothing else we’re bound to stumble onto a farm, rest stop, or anyplace else with a working phone and people who can help.

An easy answer. Pack the food and throw their fates into the wind.

Her lips tightened.

And what if no one finds us? How far would we get hiking all day on cookies and apples? Can we really get ten, thirty miles to civilization? Night then comes and we got no shelter, no fuel… no.

She turned and began to trudge downhill. Maybe she was too cautious. She could live with that. Applejack didn’t gamble with her own life, and she sure wouldn’t gamble with Rarity’s. They’d get out of this careful, boring, and safe. Like a long camp out, though lordy the food supply could use some love. Maybe pine needles would taste good salted.

Rarity had worked quickly while she was away. Four front and back seat cushions were stacked on the ground, each a heap-ton softer than the shelter’s stone floor or their bed of branches. They hiked back with one under each arm, sticking to their own footprints where the snow grew deep.

Their fire had burned down to embers in the short time they were gone. The pair puttered a moment, knowing they had to keep scavenging while daylight held but seeing nothing wrong with testing their new treasures first. Applejack stacked two cushions and sat down, releasing an instant groan of relief. The man-made seat welcomed her in its padding, and soon warmed as her backside shared heat.

She shot a grin to Rarity, but swallowed it. Rarity’s groan was more haggard – no less relieved, but a bit more desperately so. She tucked up her knees and hugged them, leaning towards the fire. One hand held her hat, revealing a frayed and smudged mess of purple hair. Bagged eyes stared listlessly into the waning flames.

“You still okay?” Applejack ventured.

“I shan’t complain,” Rarity said.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I’m tired and cold and hungry, but so are you.” A snappish edge entered Rarity’s voice. Her eyes focused into a glare that faded at once. “I can do my part. We’re on equal footing, after all.”

“Beg pardon, but we ain’t.”

Rarity’s eyes slid over, and Applejack shrugged. “I’m used to moving, working and such for hours on end. Rain, shine, snow, you name it. It stands to reason I’d hold up better than you.”

“Mmm, and you are so big and strong.” Rarity’s lips turned up and she cast a half-lidded glance over Applejack’s body, though of course with the winter clothes there was nothing to see.

Applejack grinned, sensing her friend’s spirits rise. “Just take a short load off while I make a run. It won’t be like earlier, I promise. Join me for the next if you feel up to it. You’ll do us both a lot more good if you pace yourself than if you work to the bone and get exhausted. Even if your pace is a little different from mine.”

Rarity’s smile remained a tired thing, but she nodded. “You win. I’ll be right as rain by the time you get back.”

Applejack doubted that. Their accommodations and diet were enough of a shock to her own system. Skinny, prissy Rarity had to have it twice as bad, although she was taking it like a trooper.

“Keep her warm,” Applejack mouthed to herself, stepping once more from the shelter. A thought hit her, and she nodded. “And yourself, too. We won’t steer wrong so long as we’re watching out for each other.”

Applejack was still fresh as could be, all told. The pine tea and almost-normal breakfast still sat warm within her, and the cobwebs of the cold night were all shaken free. She gazed around, admiring the tall trees and pondering which ones might have the lowest branches for her.

…Still a mystery, this little shack and its flat surroundings. Really, it was the latter that was strangest for her. Did someone really clear-cut thick timber to make this bitty patch of space?

Her practiced eye began taking in the clearing. Maybe one full acre… no, not even that. But it was vaguely square, far too neat to be natural.

She traced to the corner, and stopped. A tree was there, but too small, straight, and bare to be a tree after all. Applejack approached, drawn by curiosity. She stumbled over something hard in the ground, though kept balance and walked on.

Not a tree. A wide, cut post, round like a telephone pole. Maybe four feet tall, and over a foot thick. Narrow holes in its sides told easily enough it was the corner-post of a fence now gone. Applejack grabbed it and tried to draw back, but it was buried deep. Another foot, maybe two beneath the earth… six feet of solid wood…

Applejack moved on, making a long pace along the clearing. Giddy excitement tapped in her heart, though disappointment won initially when she found no post in the second corner. But the third had one, and the fourth.

She had to remind herself to walk slow and careful back to the shelter. No silly running around, not with their lives at stake. No matter how good the day had just turned.

Rarity looked up quizzically at her prompt return. Applejack grinned, bashful yet broad.

“Rares?”

“Hm?”

Maybe the timing could have been better, but Applejack really didn’t want to wait. “Sorry to interrupt, but I could use your help. Won’t be much, I promise.”

“Anything you need.” Rarity stood without protest and followed her out the door. She too tripped on the way to the first post, but Applejack was there to catch her.

Rarity glanced back as they walked on. “What was that?”

Applejack shrugged, her eyes on the prize. “I dunno, a rock? But check out this beauty, right here!”

She placed a hand on the post and spun around it like a pole-dancer to smile widely back towards Rarity.

Rarity looked to the bare wooden prize, then to Applejack.

One purple eyebrow raised, and amusement tugged the white lips upwards.

“Help me out, Darling. Why is this fun?”

Applejack patted the post, speaking quickly. “Because this right here is the answer to our prayers. Part of the reason we have such trouble keeping the fire going is because we can’t get anything really thick onto it. Thick wood lasts longer and burns hotter, just a better fire all around. Now, I could spend all day at a tree with this dinky hatchet and it wouldn’t come down. But what we can do is excavate Mister Log here and his two friends, and so long as we back it with a little tinder and kindling they are going to keep us burning for days.”

Rarity yawned quietly through her nose. “How are we going to chop them into logs?”

“No need,” Applejack said. “We move the fire closer to the door and have this laid down running outside. The fire will sit at the end of it, and as it burns down we just push it in.”

Realization sparked in Rarity’s tired eyes. “Ah-ha! I see, yes that is lovely. We’ll have to put it at an angle going in so the fire isn’t burning right against our walls.”

“Yeah.” Applejack beckoned her over. “Let me do the grunt work on this one. Just hold it steady while I dig it out, then we can carry it back together.”

Chopping into the frozen ground with a hatchet wasn’t easy, and Applejack’s body didn’t much like bending over for it. But the work went fast: chunk after chunk of dirt was thrown free until the post stood loose in Rarity’s grasp. It was light enough to carry between two people, as were the next two which they laid outside.

Using most of their remaining small wood, Applejack built and lit a new fire at the head of the first post, now prone and laying halfway through the door. The wood was cold, but old and dry. It would catch and burn hot, long, and slow.

Applejack left Rarity with it to head out again. The fire still needed kindling, smaller branches.

Somehow, the work was easier. Applejack fell into routine, a comfortable flow as the afternoon wore on. No longer frantically racing to keep ahead of the cold, she took her time, selecting promising branches and harvesting several pine cones and cuts of the inner bark. Odds were long of them tasting good, but even she was a bit tired of apples.

Rarity, bless her, was raring to go by the second load. Applejack took a breather, and easily traded on and off with her until the shadows grew long, then disappeared into an early dark.

Inside, though, it was bright. The post burned merrily, not even a quarter lost across all afternoon. The long fire had warmed their little abode quite nicely, and though it was doubtless still cold by normal standards, the girls stripped from their jackets and marveled at how toasty it all felt. They briskly changed underwear, buttoned back on their smoke-smelling clothes, and set-to making dinner.

Pine cones and bark, predictably, tasted like wood. They were regardless the highlights of the meal – apples, cookies, and chips were getting old. And each was more than half-gone by dinner’s end, leading to both girls guiltily cutting back. Their stomachs loudly protested, and at Applejack’s suggestion they ate a little more. Help was bound to come tomorrow.

Or tonight? A quick check of the phones dashed their hopes.

“The blizzard must have taken out a cell tower,” Rarity sighed.

But at least right now, it wasn’t so bad. The lackluster meal filled their bellies, warming them from the inside as the fire warmed them from without. They lounged on their bed, no longer feeling the need to huddle close to the flames. The looted seats pillowed their heads and hips, and the rest was comfortable enough. Snowy and cold outside, warm and dry in here.

Rarity laid sideways, little-spooning into Applejack as they watched the fire in drowsy contentment. That all wasn’t too strange for them – the Rainbooms were casual in their affection with each other, hugging, cuddling, and sharing beds whenever impulse bid. Rarity’s feet tucked back, warming themselves against Applejack’s shins. Her designer stockings couldn’t be holding up as well as Applejack’s wool socks. They were like petite little ice cubes, but that was fine. Applejack had warmth to give.

…Of course, all those cuddles and bed-sharing came with the sleepovers, always with other girls around.

Applejack’s arm rested on Rarity’s side, half-hugging her in to help warm them both. She could not help but smell the purple hair – fire smoke, and human sweat. Not foul odors to Applejack at all.

A sudden flutter struck her heart. Dainty, pretty Rarity.

She felt her old crush on the girl come roaring back. To kiss the hair, nibble the neck…

Her breath hitched. Then normalized at once.

Unseen, Applejack smiled. Thaaaaat’s enough, Miss Apple.

On again, off again, she had debated asking Rarity out for years. Sunset had once confided Rarity had pondered the same, but that was in the lead up to the Friendship Games and both of them had gotten busy from there.

Life was short. If they hit that tree any harder it would have been real short. Once this was over, Applejack promised herself to finally make the first move.

Not now. Don’t risk drama at a time when they had to stay focused. Just enjoy the fire, the warmth, the comfort.

The change came easy. Soon her eyes drifted closed, her nose filled with the wholesome smell of the fire. Smoke wafted out of the top slits, and everything that could be lit by errant sparks was a safe distance away.

Her belly growled already. No help for it, and it wasn’t enough to keep her awake.

Day Five

The sun didn’t rise that morning.

At least, not that they could see. Thick and dark clouds covered the sky, turning the world gray as night came to an end. Snow sliced horizontally through the air, blown by wind hard enough to whistle over the shelter’s ventilation slits.

Applejack stepped outside to take it in, and shivered. Her sweater and vest handled the cold well enough, but the wind cut right through. And even a minute in the storm blasted her with snow from head to boot.

Rarity helped her brush it off as fast as they could. Snow turned to wetness in their shelter. Wetness was bad.

They stoked the fire, neither speaking. Early, vague hopes that the storm would pass quickly faded as they drank their tea. If anything, it only got worse with no end in sight.

Rarity sipped pensively, standing at the door. Applejack wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and they watched the giant evergreens rustle and shake in the billowing white.

“What should we do?” Rarity murmured.

To Applejack, it was obvious. “Nothing.”

She gave a wry smile and shrugged at Rarity’s questioning look. “We’ve got wood and we’ve got food. Trying to go out in this will do a powerful lot more harm than good.”

A smile hovered beneath Rarity’s bagged eyes. She gave a languid yawn and stretched, then began pulling off her gloves. “A lazy day in, hm? Very well.”

Rarity sauntered over to their supplies, plucked out one of her magazines, then retired back to the bed. She pulled the thin blanket over her, shivering with a brief chatter of teeth before clamping them shut.

“Goodness, it’s drafty in here. Be a dear and help me out with that, please.”

Applejack wasn’t much of a reader. She also had nothing better to do. She picked up one of Rarity’s books and slipped next to the girl in her own spot, still warm from where she slept.

The wind whistled, but was easy enough to shut out. Applejack grinned stupidly as she finished the first chapter. A cheesy romance so typical of Rarity, more like a comedy in Applejack’s mind. She guessed the plot even with three-hundred pages to go: a high-born lady, befriending and inevitably romancing a hunky farmer. He was a strong, sensitive family-man, she was a dainty beauty.

...Huh.

And so the time passed. Rarity swapped one magazine for the next, then picked up her other book. Applejack set hers down, bored of the reading but never one who really needed to be entertained. She watched the fire dance and spark, breathed in its wholesome smell.

Her eyes drifted to Rarity – clearly worn and frazzled, but holding up better than Applejack would have ever guessed. The porcelain cheeks were smudged with smoke, the perfectly-coiffed hair reduced to a flat and split mess. But she was so beautiful, even now. Especially now.

The coif and curls and makeup were all important to Rarity. So Applejack held in her teasing and flirting, and instead simply wrapped both arms around to hug her from behind. The wind nipped at them inside, but bundled in the blanket and pines it wasn’t so bad.

Applejack hadn’t slept well since the crash, so the quiet stillness was more than welcome. She hadn’t realized how sore her muscles had become, how pleasant it was to just lie there and sink into the lumpy pine. She dozed, woke. Rarity had put down her book and turned around, bringing them face-to-face.

They smiled to each other, and their bellies growled.

“Apples?” Rarity said without much enthusiasm.

Applejack gave a grunt. “I have a better idea.”

Hoisting herself up wasn’t fun. Their fire was protected, but the batting of the draft kept its flames low and the shelter cold. A bit of effort got their blood pumping, shifting the fire from the doorway and building it up with the second post. Applejack retrieved the leftover turkey and got to work, slicing it into thin strips and laying them flat in the salad bowl. Salt, pepper, and that last of their meager vegetables made it something of a stir-fry, with each piece sizzling and cooking in its own grease. A few small pieces of wood served easily enough as chopsticks, and as the wind died down they sat around the fire to eat.

Perhaps, not as miraculous as the soup. But the novelty of eating right from the pan made it fun, though both burned their tongues. Salt and fat filled them deliciously, and at the end they sighed and rubbed their stomachs, suddenly not so cold anymore.

The last of the turkey. A windfall, gone.

Right now, they were full and content. Snow continued piling outside, but the wind’s drop returned the shelter to its normal warmth.

No sense trying to leave, but neither wanted to lie down after a long and lazy morning. So they puttered. Applejack whittled and stared into the fire. Rarity picked up the guitar and strummed easily at its strings. A smooth, calm tune soon overtook the cabin, played straight from the girl’s imagination. They were all a bit musically inclined, but Rarity was more a songwriter than Applejack could ever be.

They read, they played guitar. They watched outside. The snow came down, down.

They sat close to the fire as the bland white landscape drifted slowly into dark. Burning two posts at once let each share heat and reduced the need for kindling. They had burned so long now that red embers glowed, warming the girls with barely any flames at all.

“Wish I had some marshmallows to eat,” Applejack mused, sitting on a cushion beside her friend.

“I’m a marshmallow,” Rarity said.

Silence.

Applejack looked at her. “What?”

“Hm?”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing, Darling. It must have been the wind.”

Rarity definitely said something… but she couldn’t possibly have gone where Applejack thought. Deciding to move on, Applejack idly strummed a few bars on the guitar.

“A hot, gooey marshmallow would go down really well.”

“Indeed, Darling.”

Rarity put a meaningful tone in the words, like some in-joke Applejack didn’t understand. Just Rarity being Rarity.

“But man, first I want more real food. Normal living ain’t just one good meal a day.”

Applejack pat her stomach. The meat had fueled her nicely, but dinner had been a return to chips and cookies.

“One meal was a pleasant change of pace,” Rarity murmured, leaning into Applejack. The last strum faded as white fingers wrapped around Applejack’s arm. Applejack looked to her – Rarity’s eyes were turned outside. Fat flakes still fell after all this time.

“Back to the norm, I suppose,” Rarity said quietly. She glanced to the empty bag sitting between them, then back outside. “Except without the chips and cookies. Just a few apples left.”

She leaned into Applejack. Her voice grew quieter still. “We’re in quite the pickle, aren’t we?”

Applejack wrapped an arm around and pulled her in close. “Not yet, we ain’t.”

“We’re out of food.”

“Help will come any day now.”

Rarity looked over. “We keep saying that.”

“And we ain’t wrong.” Applejack gave a steady nod. She smiled for all she was worth, and was rewarded by a slight turn of Rarity’s frown. “All else goes, we can eat bark and pine. When the bowl finally conks out we can melt snow in our mugs. We’re getting through this.”

“You make it sound so easy.” Rarity gave a fragile little laugh.

Applejack shrugged, still beaming. “We’ll live. I never said easy.”

“Actually, it might be.” Rarity stood abruptly, ushering a sudden chill. Her nerves vanished into businesslike speed as she strode over to their bags.

It became Applejack’s turn to stare into the snowfall. Her confidence wasn’t fake. They’d be fine. She was… mostly sure of it. Although bark and pine wasn’t much to look forward to. And they’d have to wade through even more snow to gather it. Less food, less energy…

“HA!”

It came out so shrill and sharp that Applejack thought it was a sneeze. Lord knows her own throat had been getting scratchy.

“Bless you.”

“No!” Rarity sped into sight, collapsed back into her seat. Both hands cradled and gripped her phone. She pointed to the screen – the wallpaper of her and Applejack working the cotton candy stand last summer.

And the three escalating bars on top.

“I have a signal!”

“And thirty-percent batteries,” Applejack warned. Cold weather had taken its toll.

Rarity tapped quickly, with Applejack gazing over her shoulder. Hundreds of unread messages on the Rainbooms’ group chat, dozens of texts, sixteen missed calls.

More messages arrived, buzzing down the battery. The girls were online. Rarity plugged into the group-call function, sending a notification to the others.

Chimes signaled their arrival: three, four, five. Rarity and Applejack could barely get a word in as everyone began talking at once.

“Oh my goodn–”

“–Roads closed...”

“Stupid cops...”

“–re you safe? Injured?”

“Should we call 911?”

“We drove through right after the plows but didn’t see anyth–”

“Girls!” Applejack snapped as Rarity’s battery icon turned red. “Listen to me. We don’t got much power left.”

Rarity silently motioned Applejack to take the lead. Applejack heaved a deep breath and did just that. “We’re safe. We’re maybe an hour outside Canterlot, by a real wicked turn in the highway. Little past Exit 36, I think. I have our junk piled up by the road… it’s probably buried now but I’ll dig it out.”

“Got it,” Sunset said. The group’s natural leader spoke with low determination. “Hang on. We’re coming out there right now.”

Rarity tensed. She shot Applejack a glance, and Applejack nodded.

“No. Don’t you dare.”

Applejack looked guiltily to Rarity, who returned an encouraging smile.

“It’s dark and it’s been storming all day, even worse than when we crashed.”

“Crash!?” Rainbow’s raspy voice cut in. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“We’re safe and steady,” Applejack coached. “And we need you to be too if you’re getting us out of this. You gotta wait til the plows hit it.”

Sunset answered tersely. “Are you absolutely sure you’ll be safe?”

“Safer than you would be coming in.”

“That’s not a yes,” Sunset pressed.

Applejack gave a tight laugh. “Yes, Sunny. We’re right as rain.”

“Rarity?” Sunset asked.

A light huff sounded from Applejack’s side. “‘Right as rain’ my foot. I am sore and hungry, but yes, darlings, we are safe.”

“Okay. Yeah, that makes sense.” Sunset hesitated, then spoke on. “I’ll call the county. If they know someone’s stranded they’ve gotta prioritize that for the plows, right? Maybe they have a night-shift number.”

“Roger that,” Applejack said. “We have to go dark now. Rarity’s almost out of juice and I have to save my batteries in case we need to call tomorrow night or some-such.”

“You won’t,” Sunset said.

“If the plows don’t make it we’ll have to camp out another–”

Sunset groaned and laughed with the same breath. “Applejack, I’m glad you two are chill about this. I super, one-million percent am. But on this side we’ve been freaking out for the last ninety-six hours. First the snow barred the way, then cops closed the roads and forced us back, then we followed the plows and didn’t see anything. We are getting you out tomorrow if I have to steal a plow truck myself and clear the whole damn highway.”

The red bar began blinking. Applejack traded a nod with Rarity. “Sounds great to us. I’ll turn on my phone tomorrow for updates. Once we hear you’re on the road we’ll go stand by it.”

“Stay warm, you two.”

The others chimed in their own well-wishes and promises to come soon. Rarity turned off the phone and slipped it in her pocket.

A sudden thought made Applejack laugh. “We should’ve asked them to bring food.”

“They’re our friends.” Rarity smiled coyly. “They will.”

Applejack gave a mighty yawn and stretched for all she was worth. “Whelp, looks like it’s our last night together.”

“Our last night together here.” Rarity corrected.

Applejack brushed her teeth, and used a last bowl of warm water to wash her face. She settled down into her accustomed spot with Rarity and watched the fire grow dim as her eyes slowly closed.

They blinked open. “What did you say?”

“Nothing, Darling,” Rarity hummed, snuggling her backside into Applejack’s chest. “Go to sleep.”

Day Six

Maybe it was the excitement, the prospect of finally being rescued. Maybe the restful day had left her too energized to sleep the whole night.

Maybe her body was just sick of the scratchy mess of pines they called a bed.

However it happened, Applejack woke while it was still dark out. Her mind was alert, her body raring to go. There was always a good reason to wake up early on the farm, and here wasn’t much different.

She sat up, shuddering and shivering as the cold, hunger, and soreness hit her all at once.

A steel travel mug appeared before her. Applejack blinked and focused, following it up to find Rarity standing above. The fire was stoked, and now burned cheerfully in its corner.

“You’re up early,” Applejack said. She accepted and sipped the grass-tasting pine tea. Not something she would miss leaving behind.

“So are you.” Rarity shrugged. “I cheated and checked the time, it’s only five o’clock. But come, Darling, step outside with me for a moment.

Applejack strapped on her boots. Everything else – pants, hat, jacket – had stayed on all throughout the last days and nights, save for a few quick changes of the underwear. She rose and followed Rarity to the doorway.

“Look up.”

Applejack did. Knee-deep snow all around their shelter, but above them the night sky was black and clear. Dark trees in ghostly shadows stood in perfect stillness, parting the land and sky. Too close to dawn for stars but somehow… somehow the huge, empty space was queerly beautiful. Like some mystic Great Above, bringing calm darkness to renew and rest the world for the day to come.

An arm slipped around Applejack’s side. Applejack returned with her own, and the girls silently pulled into each other. It wasn’t so cold with the fire at their backs. No wind, not even clouds.

The velvet black faded slowly as they watched. First to an ugly almost-brown, then purple. Then orange, yellow, pink. A forest at the bottom of a hill was hardly a place to watch the sunrise, but the dawn – that they could do.

Applejack turned on her phone. More messages had arrived overnight. First it was Sunset venting that she couldn’t get through calling the county, and the city was a bust too. Then only a few minutes ago she talked to some morning staff. The plows had come during the night. The girls were rallying and would soon be on their way.

Applejack showed Rarity the texts, then sent back an affirmative.

“Reckon we should get by the road.”

“Indeed, Darling.”

Both were quiet, almost mute as they made their final chores. The precious, precious fire was doused with snow. They slid the tools and spare clothes into their travel bags. Nothing else worth taking. Seat cushions, chip bags, all trash. They left the last few apples in the field where they found the vegetables. Silly and superstitious to give back like that, but it felt right. Maybe the seeds would grow.

Applejack caught Rarity staring at their bed. Pine branches and looted cushions, evolving day by day to become something halfway comfortable. Well, almost halfway comfortable. But they did it by hand, every branch. Applejack kicked vaguely at the wonderful wood posts that had saved them so much trouble. Even after a few days there were still the better part of one and a half left.

She set her hand on the door-frame – good, solid construction. This place would outlive her.

“Ready?” Applejack asked.

Rarity gave a silent nod. They stomped slowly up the hill, more wading than walking through the new drifts. Applejack turned her head from the car, now an indistinct mound in the snow. Rarity did the same.

Again, the snow by the road was broken. And again, the roads were clear and her proud flag was upended into the drifts. Applejack let it be – she had handkerchiefs at home.

Nothing left but to stand in the cold. Maybe they could have stalled a little first around the fire, but no way was either of them taking any chance at all of being missed. Dawn’s light had turned to a bright and windless blue. It wasn’t so bad.

Again, an arm from each found its way around the other’s back, and they stood in silence for a while longer.

“Back to normal,” Applejack finally said. Rarity’s head leaned in and came to rest on her shoulder.

Back to normal.

To living forty-five minutes away from each other. To college classes and band practice.

“Do you think...” Applejack shuffled, trailing off then trying again. “Do you want to… are we…?”

“I think, Darling,” Rarity said with clear confidence. “That we got through together in rather trying circumstances, and are currently riding the high of being rescued. Let’s give it a few days and see if we still feel the way we do now.”

A goofy smile sneaked onto Applejack’s face. “‘The way we do now,’ huh?”

“That’s what I said.”

Rarity’s eyes slipped over to to the road, and a coy grin followed. “I do believe that is our ride.”

Of course it was. Even from a mile out, the bright blue, red, and green of the Rainbooms’ band van was hard to mistake for anything else. They waved, and it slowed and pulled alongside them.

Applejack laughed as the door opened. “Any chance y’all got room for a hitchhiker or t–”

Pinkie tackled her. A whirlwind of love soon engulfed the girls: hugging, talking, crying, and pushing them onto the van. Applejack was buckled in before she fully knew what hit her.

Something was suddenly in her hand. Hot and soft and disgusting and delicious. She took a giant bite out of the hamburger. Rarity took smaller, faster bites of her own, making a ‘nom’ sound with each piece.

More was foisted upon them: french fries, doughnuts, and coffee. Coffee!

“Now we can give Fluttershy her apartment housewarming sleepover party for real!” Pinkie cheered.

Sunset kept her eyes on the road and shook her head. “Pinkie, they’ve been stranded for days. We’re taking them to a hospital.”

There was more food, but Applejack waved it off. No sense in getting sick. She sipped at her coffee, content to sit and digest.

Her hand rested by her seat. Another found it, gripped it tight. Applejack looked over, but Rarity was watching outside as miles and miles of snowy forest passed them by.

Day Four

Cushioned and cozy and holding something very warm, Applejack awoke in slow comfort. The room was cool, but not freezing, the fire having burned down to coals over the long night. Leftover heat remained in Rarity’s body, still spooned into Applejack’s chest.

She held the girl close, her larger build engulfing and warming Rarity’s back. Their myriad cushions and insulation contested nicely with the chill, giving her the pleasant sensation of remaining cozily beneath the covers on a cold winter day. Applejack closed her eyes, and found it easy to pretend this was just a wintertime camp-out.

Until her belly growled, deep and far louder than it ever had before. Or maybe it just felt that way, knowing the hodgepodge of foraged food and snacks only stalled the hunger, never satisfied it.

The sound and vibration roused Rarity, though she too woke slowly. She shuffled in Applejack’s arms, giving a deep, un-Rarity-like yawn and smacked her lips.

“Good morning, Babe,” Applejack drawled.

Rarity tucked her arms beneath Applejack’s, stealing a bit more warmth. “Good morning, Hot Stuff.”

‘Hot Stuff,’ was hilarious coming from Rarity’s mouth. Applejack rocked her with a snort-laugh, and Rarity released a giggle. “I don’t let every woman bed me three nights in a row, but you are such a charmer. What do you have planned for breakfast?”

Applejack hummed in thought, snuggling closer still. “Your choice: there’s a place down the street that does real good espresso and avocado toast, and another around the block that makes flapjacks and bacon strips thicker than your thumb.”

“Mm, to be honest, that last one sounds divine.” Rarity pushed back into Applejack’s embrace. “I’ll treat you to dinner when this is all over. We’ll find someplace nice.”

Applejack didn’t know whether that was a date or not, and right now she didn’t much care. Snug and cuddled with Rarity, it was easy enough to simply agree and drift in the moment.

She felt Rarity sigh quietly. “We should get up, shouldn’t we?”

“And do what?” Applejack asked.

Rarity hesitated. “Gather wood?”

“We don’t need as much now with the posts,” Applejack said, clasping her hands to lock Rarity in place. “And we ain’t got no clocks here. An extra ten minutes won’t hurt. This is the best I’ve felt since… you know.”

Rarity snuggled in, giving not a word of protest. Ten minutes became twenty as the world brightened around them. But no more – the shelter was growing chillier with the fire out, and their stomachs beat their insides for food.

Apples silenced the noise. Only a few left. Plus a bag and a half of chips and cookies.

But this was the fourth day! Applejack hoisted the ax. “Cook us some tea, if you don’t mind. I’m gonna scope out the road, maybe grab some wood on the way.”

Stepping outside reminded Applejack that it was still winter. Thin dots of snow fell from the sky, though with the heavy overcast she couldn’t tell if it would get better or worse. A brisk hike showed the car was not much more buried than before, though without the seats it truly looked desolate. She turned her phone on long enough to check for a signal, and released a quiet curse.

Past the wreck, however, a change snatched her attention. The snow cresting the hill was not smooth, but clumped and scattered, raised well above the even layers coating the rest of the woods.

It took only a second’s thought for Applejack to realize what happened, and that it was both good and bad news. She pushed through the disordered snow to the top of the hill.

Her boots clapped when they hit the road, finding black pavement. The plows had come, shoving the endless white off to each side.

And there was her flag, upturned and buried in the snow.

“God-damn it.”

This time the curse came loud and bitter. “The hell!? They just went and drove on by, the rat bastards. Didn’t even get fucking curious!”

She swallowed the rage, let it fade. Maybe the plows came in the early hours, or otherwise just didn’t see. A handkerchief-sized flag while it was still dark… no, this was Applejack’s fault.

She hustled back to the car, running with her next idea. Using the hatchet, she unceremoniously shred the worn blue carpeting and snatched those, the mats, and every other loose thing she could carry. Everything was dumped near the road, and then her flag went back up from a small pyramid of trash.

Frustration morphed to hope. The roads were clear. Any day, now… heck, any hour.

Satisfied, Applejack turned to trudge back, getting halfway down the slope before something else stopped her in her tracks.

Motion was the first thing her tired eyes saw. Brown with a splash of blue. So alien she startled and froze, and so did the stranger.

A turkey. A wild turkey, feathers puffed and black eyes taking her in.

Applejack stood very, very still. Her hand tightened on the ax. Her mind raced.

Her stomach growled.

Initially, safe and careful Applejack took a step back. Nope. She might have eggs or little ones. You’ll live, you don’t need to kill, so don’t do it.

The next thoughts came, however. Of course the bird didn’t have eggs or chicks in the middle of winter. And Applejack was a farmer. They didn’t raise any animals but chickens, but years turned and times came. She’d done it all before – plucking, skinning, carving, and cooking.

Chickens usually gave two or three pounds of meat once all was done. How much would a turkey? A soup or a roast, sizzling fat, hot meat…

She kept her posture loose and nonthreatening. No eye contact, no sudden moves as she slowly raised the hatchet.

“I sure hope Fluttershy never finds out about this.”

Conscientious that a bear smelling the blood could make things awfully ironic, Applejack chopped the head and drained the body before taking another step forwards. She gripped the turkey easily by its legs, wondering how Rarity will react. She reckoned the frou-frou girl might gasp or even faint, running to sequester herself away until the nasty part was done.

She found her friend oddly wandering outside, shuffling around their little clearing getting her boots wet. Rarity looked curiously at Applejack’s burden, squinting through her glasses as she drew near while holding curiosities of her own – the first chip bag they had emptied, and the unsheathed pocket knife.

And when she saw the turkey, Rarity gave it such a look of unbridled, lip-licking, half-lidded desire that Applejack could only wish the girl would one day turn it on her.

“Such a lucky day,” Rarity breathed. She folded down the knife and fished in her bag. “Lucky for both of us. Behold!”

She produced and presented her own minor miracle: two bulbs of wild garlic, a carrot, and a potato. Of course the potato was the size of a garlic, the garlic was the size of golf balls, and the carrot was more white than orange. But they were vegetables all the same, and Applejack gave a stare of her own.

Rarity explained with faux arrogance and well-earned pride, one hand haughtily to the side of her lips. “Not luck at all, actually, but my own observation. When I tripped yesterday, it didn’t feel like a rock. Today I retraced my footsteps and found it was an old vine that caught me. A bit of digging and searching from there found me these. Darling, I think this was where someone tried to set up a farming patch. Maybe a side project from one of the big farms we passed on the way here? And the shed is for a horse or tractor or some-such. It looks like a few lucky seeds got left behind when everything was abandoned.”

Applejack could only nod and shrug. Rarity wanted answers – Applejack wanted to eat. They walked to the shelter, both giggling like idiots yet conscientious of carrying sharp objects.

Once inside, through, they slammed into each others’ arms. Applejack picked up Rarity and gave her a twirl, sending the smaller girl into excited hysterics. Turkey, turkey! And vegetables. Damn the plow, they had turkey and vegetables!

The hours passed in a pleasant blur. Rarity went out for more wood while Applejack plucked, skinned, and carved as best as she could with the knife. Truth be told she made a mess out of things, but it went well as could ever be expected. The first bowl of hot water rinsed the blades, then the veggies got peeled, washed, and sliced.

A short chat settled them on soup – smaller pieces of meat meant less heat needed to cook it though, and the metal bowl was already starting to look abused. Applejack cut half the meat into bite-sized chunks, let them boil a bit first, then added the diced veggies and a few salt and pepper packets for good measure. The other half she buried in the snow outside. Fat and bones went in to add what flavor and nutrition they could, and Applejack had the foresight to reserve a hot mug first to wash off her hands. The process had gone slowly with inexperience and inadequate tools, but somehow that made it better. A building, happy anticipation, like the Christmas season.

Rarity had not been idle, foraging wood and pine in the meantime. When the shadows grew long, Applejack bid her stay inside. They had enough wood, no reason to push themselves for one more load with the snow coming down more heavily.

Applejack fished a turkey piece out and slit it open. No red juices or uncooked muscle.

Seated on their cushions and leaning into each other, they dipped in their mugs and took the first sips. Hot and oily and salty, with fresh turkey and carrots tasty and nostalgic on their tongues. They used little plastic spoons to pick what they couldn’t slurp out, then they poured out seconds into the emptied mugs and kept at it. The hunger pangs faded, leaving Applejack with a lazy sense of fullness and contentment.

It was so, so good. Perhaps last week she would have found it bland and lumpy. Not today. She chewed her last soft bite of potato with relish.

Rarity carefully removed the soup bones to a plastic bag, then filled the bowl with new snow and set it down to boil.

“You thirsty?” Applejack asked.

Rarity smiled and said nothing, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Applejack watched her work with drowsy curiosity, giving a smile of her own when Rarity took their mugs and filled each with hot water.

Then, with an aristocratic flourish, Rarity plopped down and slid two foil packages from her coat and dangled them before Applejack’s eyes.

Each was stamped with the same words. Hot chocolate.

Something shook loose in Applejack’s heart. This day full of unexpected good fortune had gotten even better. Her throat felt full, and some part of her really wanted to cry.

“How?” she breathed.

Rarity drew them back, exposing her smirking lips. “I found them under your cushions. What is a full course meal without dessert, after a–”

Applejack moved, leaning in and kissing those lips. Her arms went around Rarity. It wasn’t a conscious choice. A cold line ran down from her eye.

The mind caught up, and Applejack at once moved to draw back. “Sorry! I just... I, uh...”

A dainty hand touched her cheek, interrupting. Soft white lips ascended, meeting her own. They lingered only for two seconds, long enough to make their point, before parting with a quiet kiss.

Bright blue eyes gazed into Applejack’s.

“I was wondering when you’d do that, Darling.”

Applejack glanced away, still somehow guilty. “Sorry. I… I got too happy, you know? One thing too many. I lost it for a second. I shouldn’t have ambushed you like that.”

Rarity tittered in her throat. “It was hardly an ambush. My only regret was how fast it ended.”

Applejack blinked. Two seconds later she connected the dots, wrapped her arms fully around Rarity, and pulled her in. Closed lips, nothing too passionate. Tender, long. They pulled away, though her arms remained in place.

Rarity turned in her cushion to face the fire, leaning sideways into Applejack’s chest.

“Please don’t think me a tease,” she murmured. “That’s as far as I’ll go. For now. I’m such a smelly mess. I don’t even want to see what my hair looks like.”

“I think you look great,” Applejack said, grinning wide as she could.

Rarity glanced sidelong to her. The smile faded, and Applejack gave a nod. “But that all is real important for you. I understand.”

“We’ve known each other since we were six,” Rarity said. “I certainly hope you understand by now.”

Applejack’s smile returned with a twist. She heaved Rarity over to sit on her lap. “Snuggling still okay?”

“Of course, Darling, it’s cold. But let me pour the chocolate first.”

Applejack’s best guess was those packets were nearly two years old. Stale, store-bought, and cheap, and the most delicious hot chocolate she ever had. They sipped and chatted then retired to the bed, but this time it was a little different. They did not simply collapse and hug desperately against the cold, but chatted some more while lazily entwined.

Rarity’s fingernails brushed Applejack’s sides in a brief tickle, and she claimed it an accident. The girl was a tease, whatever she might claim. Applejack got her own back once or twice, but most of their time was still and calm. They turned from the embrace into their now-traditional spoon, drifting off slowly as they watched the fire, and the gentle snowfall in its glow.

Year One

Christmas was one giant in-joke between the couple, but a practical one. Rarity had given Applejack a high-tech thermal blanket that condensed neatly into the trunk of her new-used car. Applejack gave Rarity her very own emergency kit, complete with matches, first-aid kit, flares, and a good knife.

Christmas, though, wasn’t the highlight of the season this year. “Roughing it,” Rarity had said, though it was anything but. A cozy wooden cabin for rent outside the Everfree, with all the amenities and power outlets a modern girl could ask for. A long weekend alongside forest paths and frozen lakes, just for the two of them.

Honestly, Applejack was surprised Rarity would even go this far after their adventure last year. Maybe Applejack’s influence was rubbing off on her girlfriend...

Well, a little bit. Rarity certainly hadn’t packed for a camp-out, bringing a hairdryer, three different shampoos, and a purse full of beauty products. There was more than enough room in the cabin.

They wore comfy sweaters and wool socks. Applejack wore sweatpants, Rarity… well, it was plenty warm in here. She began downloading a movie on her laptop while Applejack made the hot chocolate with a healthy spiral of whipped cream for each. Then she cooked popcorn with oil and pan, and brought the offerings to the couch. Thick wood crackled in the fireplace.

Applejack shivered as she walked by the window, leaking cold from the snowfall outside. But it passed with her steps. She set the snacks on a hardwood coffee table and reclined lengthwise on the couch. Rarity settled into her lap with the computer on her own.

They munched, drank, and chatted idly over the movie. The snacks were good, but the show wasn’t. Rarity closed the laptop halfway through, set it to the side, and rolled to lie belly-down atop Applejack.

Their arms wrapped around, slipping under sweaters. Rarity kissed gently like a kitten, barely brushing her lips to Applejack’s collarbone. Applejack returned one atop her head. They cuddled and snuggled, slowly going more passionate as hands began to roam, but with a calm and comfortable slowness.

And the snow outside mattered nothing at all.

Author's Note

Thank you all for reading! May you always be warm and cozy.~