Six Mares of The Apocalypse

Nov 28, 2097

Applejack

every day and night I strum this guitar, thinking about the past, thinking of that quaint little farm I was raised on, and the possibility of raising my own family with Rainbow on that same land, but those days are gone. The wind howls in my ear every afternoon, and I hear Apple Bloom’s voice. Still so sweet and innocent. I still have my friends, and I guess that counts for something, every thing just feels so empty now. Which it kinda is. I try to put on a happy front for my friends since I’m supposed to be the strong one, but I dunno how much longer I can keep it up. I’ve lost my family, my home, well I guess we all have, but when you plant roots just to see them reduced to splinters, it cuts pretty deep. Riley has been a great help for bringing me back around, I guess he was a therapy dog for whoever owned him last, and could sense how broken I was. Every so often he will listen to me play my guitar, and will even sing along a little. It actually makes me laugh how much he tries to howl in tune with my playing. Each night when I can’t sleep I strum by the fire providing a bit of ambiance for the rest of the group as they sleep. I appreciate that Rarity found this bigger camp for us. Because to be honest, that camper was annoyingly crowded, sure there was a bunkhouse too, but it was also rather small. With this new camp there’s one house for every two of us, and it’s much more roomy. As I write this Riley lays sleeping next to me, he must be dreaming about something exciting. Maybe chasing a rabbit, or something like that. As night begins to approach, I guess I should finally get some of my own rest.