Learning to Soar

Applejack was having an excellent morning. The orange filly had finished applebucking earlier than usual, and that prompted Big McIntosh to send her off to relax for the rest of the day. There was nothing else she felt like doing except kicking back and sleeping in the apple orchards under her favorite tree, who she graciously named Bloomberg.

        Applejack trotted briskly in the direction of Bloomberg with a broad grin.

In a few months’ time, she would be having a better life in Manehattan working under her Aunt and Uncle Orange. The farmpony would miss her old life in Sweet Apple Acres, but maybe, she thought, it might be worth it in the end. Change was good, right?

 Back in the farmhouse, she knew Granny Smith was still quaintly moving about on her rocking chair, with little Apple Bloom napping on the old mare’s lap. Foals tended to be lethargic in the afternoon, Applejack noted. Big McIntosh was probably still tending to his duties in the fields. Being the only pony in the family that was strong enough to till the fields with a plow may have been difficult, but she knew her big brother didn’t mind as long as it helped his family.

 Applejack had once attempted to assist him by pulling the machinery in his place; however, she had instead ended up being suspended in the air like an upside down turtle, the plow obviously outweighing her, sheepishly requiring Big McIntosh to help her down. He, of course, took the opportunity to scold his little sister about the proper way of doing it—and failed when he was not able to keep a straight face at how silly she looked, flailing around like a drowning pony. He had to cut off his own small speech and shook his head with a small smile, telling her that she’d be able to do it when she was a little older. He then proceeded to grab the machinery and pull it down to where her hooves touched the ground again.

Since that incident, Applejack hadn’t touched the plow at all. Still, it never stopped her from hearing Big McIntosh’s occasional low laughter when he harnessed the leather straps onto his solid body to plow the crops.

Underneath the shade of her chosen tree, she felt like a million bits. Nothing was out of the ordinary, and Applejack preferred it that way. She sighed in content, as all was right in the great wide world of Equestria—or, at least, in the Apple family.  With nothing to be concerned about, the orange pony leaned back against the tree and peacefully dozed off, the fresh scent of apples pulling her further and further into relaxation.

Tranquility and peacefulness reigned with a mighty fist in Sweet Apple Acres that morning. The robust style of which the humble Apple family lived frequently called for this type of atmosphere, as the three of them rarely had company other than each other. It was kind of lonesome—in a way. Applejack and Big McIntosh took pleasure in hanging around their family, but it didn’t mean they didn’t have their own way of spending time with other ponies. And that way was via sales.

Whenever Applejack tagged along with her big brother McIntosh out to sell apples, there were typically ponies walking about and chattering genially in the shopping square. When ponies stopped by their apple stand, some spoke to her instead when they realized Big Mac wouldn’t say anything more than “Eeyup” or “Nope.” His shy, stout demeanor earned him lots of crushes and respect from the passersby, while Applejack earned the title of “Suave Seller.”

“Buy some apples!” She would call energetically, earning an amused smile from the red earth pony next to her. Without her, he knew, ponies wouldn’t be half as interested in buying apples as they were when she was around. “We’ve got Golden Delicious apples, Red Delicious apples, Gala apples, and McIntoshapples!”

An unconscious smile found its way onto the filly’s face as she shifted in her sleep.

THUMP!

Applejack’s eyes snapped open. In a fit of half-drowsiness, she managed to stand up. “What in—” She yawned and rubbed the sleepiness out of her system. “...tarnation?”

Applejack inquisitively looked up in the direction the noise came from. The farmpony’s previous annoyance at being abruptly roused from her slumber subsided as soon as she spotted the object of her displeasure. Resting on one of Bloomberg’s branches was an unknown cyan pegasus, her alluring rainbow mane something Applejack had never seen before. The mysterious pony seemed to be asleep, curled up in a sideways fetal position.

 However, Applejack’s fascination turned to apprehension when she noticed faint wounds on the filly’s stomach. She contemplated bucking the tree to bring the pony to ground, but it seemed too cruel to do it without knowing exactly how injured the cyan pony was.

She tapped on the tree lightly with her forehoof. “Hey.”

No response. The jagged raising and falling of the pony’s chest indicated she wasn’t dead—Applejack knew that for sure. The farmpony may have not been the brightest tool in the shed, but she knew how to recognize when it was an emergency, especially with the ragged breaths coming from the newcomer. Her heart sank as she realized reaching that particular branch without disturbing the other pony would be out of her power. Unless....

 She vigilantly took her hoof off the tree and crept away.

When the filly was sure she was far enough to not be heard by the mystery pony, she dashed frantically toward the fields where Big Mac was working, not giving a second glance at the mud that splashed unflatteringly on her coat in the process. She galloped with a vengeance, ignoring the lengthy dirt path that lead to the fields. Instead, the earth pony cut right through the apple orchards, careful not to crash into the trees that blocked her way.

The crisp, cool morning air felt like nothing as Applejack’s serene world was shattered in two, her lungs threatening to burn to a crisp. There wasn’t the slightest chance of stopping—somepony needed Applejack’s help, and she was going to do whatever it took to deliver help as fast as possible. As she leapt over the whitewashed fence that divided the fields and the orchards, she yelled, “BIG MAC!”

The red pony stopped in his tracks, pausing his plowing. “AJ?” A quick glance at his little sister was enough to make him quickly shed the equipment that he was towing. He pulled the harness from around the length of his body and yanked it off in a disorderly and swift manner. Although he was almost finished with his current task, he always looked upon his little sister in the highest regard and often marveled at her constant honesty —albeit in silence—so he automatically assumed whatever she was interrupting him with must have been very important to her.

His brow furrowed in concern as he trotted to meet her halfway. He said nothing about the mud on her coat—he had mud on his too; it wasn’t uncommon for farmponies to attract dirt—as she hurriedly summed up the circumstances of which had troubled her in as few sentences as possible.

“...An’ that’s why I need your help!” She finished.

Big Mac nodded and replied with a quick eeyup. He then began his vigorous walk to Bloomberg, Applejack taking the lead with an even faster jog.

Everything was swell until Applejack dizzily tripped and fell on the ground a few meters later.

“You should jus’ pace yourself when runnin’, Applejack.” Big McIntosh grabbed her hoof and pulled her up with a reassuring smile. What surprised him the most was of the fact that Applejack had already known the pacing rule, especially since she was such a hardworking filly. Her benevolence, he supposed, was what kept her going in full force. “But I’m glad ya ran here in the first place. I know how ya always want to do things yourself.”

Big McIntosh’s smile never left his face, though his eyebrows stitched together in concern at the amount of effort Applejack was outputting for somepony she barely knew. In fact, the last time he had ever seen her that frazzled was when Granny Smith broke her hip and was rushed to the hospital. The mysterious pony’s injuries must have been a gruesome sight if Applejack was compelled to push herself that hard. While he watched her recover, his thoughtful expression changed to a determined one as an idea wormed its way into his mind.

“Mac! We’re wastin’ time! I wouldn’t have called for help if I didn’t need it!” Applejack erupted into a fit of coughing as she irritably raced ahead. Her legs felt extremely weary as she glanced back at her big brother, who hadn’t moved a muscle.

“Wouldn’t I know it.” He charged ahead, hauling his surprisingly lightweight sister onto his back. His stride didn’t slow down one bit as he rapidly continued the race to Bloomberg, Applejack clinging tightly onto his neck. His coat became even muddier than it was before...not that he cared in the slightest.

“Thank you!” Applejack gratefully shouted over the clopping of his hooves.

Instead of utilizing the simple “eeyup” he always would have replied with, Big Mac smiled. “Anything for family.” He gallantly marched onwards, retracing Applejack's hoofprints.