Chapters The sun poked over the hills lightly, and the orange light it gave off filtered through the large green apple trees of Sweet Apple Acres. Though the trees were apple trees, they held no apples, for they had all been harvested for the winter.
The barn of Sweet Apple Acres was drowned in the sunlight. The barn was normally red, but on this particular morning, it had transferred to orange, trying to match that of the sun. A rooster crowed, signaling to the farmers and other animals that morning had come, and that it was time to begin the day.
Applejack sat on the edge of her bed, crimson-orange sunlight pouring through the window, covering her bed sheets in a strange glow. She had already been awake for a while, holding her dark brown acoustic guitar with both hooves. The design of the guitar was not unique. It had a simple hourglass-shaped body, just like any other guitar of its type. It had small squiggly designs on either side of the front, just for extra detail.
But the guitar wasn’t just any regular guitar. At least to Applejack. It had been her great grandfather’s acoustic, which he had used to herd the sheep and cows back in his day.
Applejack had never been able to find out how he did it. She’d spend hours a day trying to make the animals obey her with the sounds, but they all refused. She had tried for years, studying any possible way he could have done it, but none of them worked.
Eventually, she gave up, and simply used it as a musical instrument, like it was supposed to. Just like any other guitar.
Despite that, she still cared for it greatly. She tuned it conscientiously, being gentle with its old age. She kept at it for a couple of minutes, making sure the guitar would create the correct sounds.
When she finished, she held it still, thinking of any song to play. She had written songs, but never looked at the written papers. She had played them so many times that she had either memorized them by heart, or bored herself with them.
She heard the pang of pots downstairs, where Big Mac would be making breakfast, and she heard the sound of Applebloom’s bedroom door open and close as she headed downstairs toward the aroma of breakfast.
The sound of Applebloom’s door shutting echoed in her head over and over, almost like a drum-beat.
The sound triggered a memory. A song that her father had played for her when she was little. He played it along with his brother, who played drums. The song had no name that Applejack knew of, but it had been her favorite song since the first time she heard it. Her father hadn’t given it a name, for he could never think of one.
Applejack had vowed to him that she would find a name for that song before the day she died. But it was hard naming a song. Many of her songs she herself had written still had no name.
She plucked a string with her hoof, trying to remember the right note. She plucked a few more times, holding several frets. She found the sound she was looking for and struck it a few times, attempting to remember the music.
She played the first part of the song . She knew it was repetitive, but, nonetheless, it took skill to accomplish it.
Applejack heard and remembered the kick-drum hit a couple times, beginning the body of the song. The bass played every few seconds, striking a couple of notes, and the sound of Applebloom’s door played after each couple drum beats, replacing the actual drum in her mind. Applejack played the main guitar, taking the place of her father. She smiled, relishing every moment of the sounds she imagined. She thought of her father and mother; how they would dance to music like this almost every day. They were happy, and that made the family happy.
A tear dripped from her eye the more she thought about her parents. Their deaths couldn't have been any more beautiful. They both died side-by-side the same night.
Applejack had been with them both the whole time.
She continued the song to its end. It was very short, yes, but beautiful in its tune and memory. When she hit the final note and removed her hoof, the note rang through the air, bringing Applejack back from her thoughts and into the present.
She sat there, leaning against the back wall, letting the final sound sink in, and allowing the memories of the past leak away from her mind.
“Applejack!” the small unmistakable voice of Applebloom was barely audible from where Applejack sat. “Breakfast!”
Applejack cleared her throat and shifted the guitar to her side, holding it upright in one hoof and resting the body on her mattress. She took a deep breath and yelled back in reply, “Yeah! I’ll be down in a minute!”
“Okay!” the voice replied, almost impossibly quiet.
Applejack scooted to the edge of her bed, her flank barely supporting her as she bent over backwards, stretching out her legs to try and reach for the guitar case, her head staring over her belly. She assisted her flank’s balance by resting her elbows on the bed. But her efforts were in vain, and she eventually grew bored of trying to take the easy way out.
She leaned her body forward and brought her legs back, sitting up once more. She laid the guitar on the bed, and stood up. She grabbed its case and placed it squarely in the center of her bed, and placed the guitar exactly where it had been when she had found it earlier that morning. She shut the case carefully and locked it, making sure that Applebloom or her friends didn’t come inside and try to play it. Just in case they ended up breaking it in the process. She usually played a little more at dawn, so she knew this wouldn’t be the last she would see of it today.
Applejack sighed and headed out her own bedroom door, closing it behind her. She trotted down the stairs for breakfast and stopped a few steps from the bottom, smelling the wonderful aroma of daisies and eggs. She stepped down the final steps, lifting her nose to smell the full potential. Big Mac cooked good when he felt good. And judging by the way breakfast smelled this morning, Mac was feeling really good. Applejack continued to the kitchen, barely able to pay attention to where she was going. She was only following the sweet stench of deliciousness.
When she reached the kitchen, she regained her senses, and looked back forward. Applebloom sat at the dining table, chomping lovingly on her daisy sandwich. Mac stood facing away from Applejack, grilling some eggs.
“Mornin’ Mac.” Applejack greeted as she sat at the table, across from Applebloom, “Mornin’ Applebloom.” The filly had her eyes closed, smiling and enjoying her sandwich. She waved in acknowledgement, as her mouth was full.
“Mornin’ Applejack.” Big Mac replied without turning from the oven, “Bread: toasted or not?”
Applejack turned to him, “Hmm,” Applejack tapped her chin in thought, “How about one toasted, one not?”
Mac chuckled, “One or the other, sis.”
Applejack smiled, “Toasted, please.” Applejack turned back to Applebloom, who took the final bite of her sandwich.
Applebloom opened her eyes to make contact with Applejack. She suddenly burst into laughter.
“What?” Applejack smiled wider.
Applebloom swallowed the final bite, “Your mane!”
Applejack remained smiling, but a chuckle was added to it. She hadn't brushed her mane or tail yet, nor put in her bands. She knew she had rolled a lot in her sleep last night, so her head must have looked like she had been struck by lightning.
“I’ll fix it after breakfast.” She said, leaning back in the chair. She closed her eyes, light from the sun bleeding through the window, soaking Applejack’s coat in luminescence, and she could feel it burn into her skin. Her eyelids glowed from her perspective; only the color orange filled her vision. She heard Applebloom’s hooves clop as they carried her to the door.
“See you after school!” Her voice peeped. Applejack waved her hoof lightly in a ‘goodbye’ gesture, not wanting to speak, ruining the moment of comfort. Applebloom opened the door, the wind hitting Applejack’s coat lightly. It lasted for only a moment, until the door closed shut, making a sound that had inspired Applejack only moments before.
The sound of a plate hitting the table woke her from her relaxation. She opened her eyes and sat up, looking down at her plate. A perfect daisy and egg sandwich, mayonnaise splattered over the top, laid on her plate. Applejack licked her lips in delight. The bread was lightly steamed: recently out of the toaster.
“Thank you, Mac!” She said happily before grabbing it in both hooves and taking a massive bite out of her sandwich.
“You’re welcome.” He replied flatly, beginning to work on his own sandwich.
Applejack slowly chewed on her delicious meal. When she finished the first bite, she swallowed and asked, “Mail here yet?”
Mac flipped an egg with the pan, “She was here early today. There’s somethin’ from Braeburn for you on the counter,” he nodded his head to the left, toward the counter, “and the bills in the office.”
Applejack sighed. Bills were not even remotely close to as fun as bucking trees. She took another bite of her sandwich, her mood ruined by the curse of monthly payments. Her sandwich suddenly lost most of its flavor; taxes always ruined the mood. She slid out of her chair and walked over to the letter from Braeburn on the counter and brought it back to the table with her. She swallowed her bite, and opened the letter. After the envelope was opened, she set it down, took another bite, and only left a fourth of the sandwich remaining. When she set the sandwich back on its plate, she lifted up Braeburn's letter to read it.
Dear Cousin Applejack, The orchard is doing fairly well, and I know it’s almost Harvest Celebration, but the farm-hooves have recently been falling ill or leaving to another town for their own families' Harvest parties. The problem is: we still aren’t finished harvesting what we have in the orchards yet, and you’re the best apple-bucker I know. It would be great if you could come out here and help us out! I think it might also be important to mention that we’ve been having some trouble with some local wildlife, and I would be grateful if you would help me figure out how to get rid of them. From your Cousin, Braeburn.
“Well then.” Applejack took one final bite of the sandwich. “Looks like I’m headin’ out to Braeburn’s in a couple of days!” She told Mac with her mouth full.
Mac heard her, despite her rude manners, and turned to face her. “What for?”
“He still hasn't harvested the orchard yet!” Applejack laughed, “That lazy bum!” She pushed back from the table, stood up, and carried her plate to the sink. “He never was the best at bucking!”
“Not like you’re the only cousin he could turn to!” Mac stated jokingly.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. No need to state the obvious!” Applejack walked out of the kitchen and into a nearby room with her desk and lamp in it. She closed the door behind her, silencing the outside world so she could concentrate... On taxes…
Applejack sighed in despair. She grabbed her reading glasses and studied the pages closely. The farm had to stay in their hooves somehow…
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Thursday, November 16: Part 1 - Changelings 1
Applejack stood by the shiny metal railings of the train-tracks, tapping her hoof impatiently on the wooden platform of the station's platform. She tilted her hat forward slightly with a hoof, blocking the sun’s burning rays from blinding the orange farm-pony. She shook her head a little to move a stray string of hair. Her bands kept the rest of her mane and tail together and gave her the signature look she always had. They also normally kept her mane out of her eyes.
The sun scorched her coat, causing her to glow brightly, as well as sweat heavily. She glanced down the steel tracks, tilting her hat with her to keep blocking the sun. The train was obviously late, as she’d been waiting for half an hour, standing in the heat of the sun. One more reason for the train to come than just take her to Appleloosa: to get her out of this scorching pit.
Her lip itched slightly so she bit it with her teeth, in alternative to using her hooves. It dispelled the itch, but the flavor of salty sweat filled her senses. She rubbed her tongue on the roof of her mouth, hoping to remove the horrible taste. The attempt failed, and the taste of salty sweat held its place on her taste buds.
Applejack was reminded of her father again. She remembered how he rarely ever put salt in or on anything, purely so he wouldn't end up like other ponies.
Some ponies enjoyed salt as an extra ingredient of flavor to some food and drinks, like Applejack and her father. But to others it was like a drug: irresistible and delicious.
Personally, Applejack didn't like more than a few grains of salt in anything. Its flavor seemed too strong for her tastes. She spit out a glob of saliva onto the nearby dirt, removing the flavor from her mouth.
She peeked down the track once more; this time noticing a small glowing dot in the distance. Either she was going blind, or the train was finally here. Applejack sighed in relief, happy that her rescue had come to take her away from the invisible flames of the light.
As the train pulled up, a crowd of ponies shuffled out of the doors. An unusual amount to be visiting Ponyville, but it might be because of the Harvest Celebration.
The Harvest Celebration was created to, well, celebrate the, uh, harvest . By... eating all of your food.
Originally, it was invented as less of a celebration and more of a marking of Winter's introduction. Back then, ponies suffered from food shortages. But as time went on, the amount of food increased exponentially, and it turned into a country-wide festival. Families gathered to make memories and strengthen friendships, all of which was doubled by the beautifully prepared meals.
Applejack waited for the crowd exiting the train to dissipate before she entered, sighing in joy at the feeling of the new-found coolness.
She trotted inside, her guitar case bouncing against her side. She glanced up and down the car. A few ponies were visible in their seats. A stallion with a green jacket and a long, scruffy beard sat in the front of the car, and to her right was a yellow Pegasus mare and her small, red, Earth pony filly. Applejack took a seat on the nearest chair/bench, and lowered her hat over her face. Now the only thing that remained was the trip to Appleloosa. She slowly closed her eyes, resting calmly as the train started up again…
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“Excuse me?” Applejack snorted loudly as she was woken from her slumber. Mucus filled her throat, causing a thick, uncomfortable feeling. She cleared it and coughed, choking on her surprise wake-up call. When she finished, she leaned forward and lifted her hat back onto her head. She looked at the source of the voice.
“Can I help you?” The little red filly stood next to Applejack’s seat, fear and worry in her eyes, “What’s wrong?” Applejack asked sympathetically.
The filly sniffed loudly, “I can’t find my Mama. She’s not at our seat, and I’m scared!” She looked down the car, checking for any sign of her mother.
Applejack looked over her seat to try as well, but to no avail. She slid off the chair, resting her hoof on the little red filly’s shoulder. She looked down the car. The stallion was no longer there either. Only Applejack and the filly remained from the initial pick-up. She looked to the back. They were in the caboose, so the mare couldn't have gone back there without being visible from the window.
“Come on, let’s go look for your mother.” Applejack guided the filly down to the front of the car, reaching the door to the next one. She opened it, sliding it across the opening, and onto the side wall. To her surprise, the room was dark. Curiously, she stepped in, an eyebrow raised inquisitively. “Hello?” She called. Applejack squinted to try and see anything, but the lack of light was unnerving. The only available light was from the door she had come out of, and that only left an outline of itself in the dark room. “Hello?” She repeated, taking another few steps into the room.
Suddenly the light was gone, only leaving darkness. Applejack turned to where the door supposedly was, blind now due to the lack of brightness. “What?” She galloped over and knocked. “What are you doing? What’s going on?” She heard hoofsteps behind her. She turned her head, seeing multiple pairs of glowing blue eyes, much like an insect’s.
She knew those eyes...
“Changelings.” She muttered angrily, remembering their invasion of Canterlot. If everything wasn't already black, it was when she was knocked out.
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Applejack’s head felt so heavy it could have fallen off, given a little assistance, and her neck cramped from being in the same position for too long. She groaned audibly, lifting her head and opening her eyes. A single light bulb was lit above her, illuminating the room slightly. Her vision was blurred, and lifting her head took far too much energy, but it was clear enough to see the outlines of the changelings and the glow of their blue eyes. Four pairs of eyes... Trained on her.
She coughed, clearing her throat. She was tied to an old, splintered, wooden chair by her own rope, noticeably hers by the tears along its body. The farmer had used it enough times to know it better than the back of her hoof.
“You are Applejack, yes?” One of the Changelings hissed in her face. “The element of Honesty, correct?”
Applejack spit out her answer. “What’s it to you?” Her vision cleared, and she stared straight into the eyes of the creature.
“You helped to banish us from ‘Canterlot’, your country’s capital, yes?” Applejack gasped, realizing this was some kind of revenge. On her specifically.
She struggled, attempting to release herself from the rope.
“It’s useless! You’ll never be able to break that rope! It’s tied by our best knot specialist!” The speaker smiled, pointing a hoof to one of the others. Applejack followed the hoof, and looked at a Changeling who waved shyly. Applejack sighed. Great, I was beaten up by a modest Changeling .
The insect-like Speaker hissed, “Your "clone " will replace you in life, taking over all that you once had!” Applejack growled, and struggled once more. To her surprise, the rope loosened a little.
The Changelings didn’t notice while laughed in victory. “Your friends will never know the truth, and we will feed on their love forever!” Applejack struggled once more, and this time the rope fell to the ground.
The Changelings’ jaws dropped. The speaker looked to the "knot specialist". “You said it was inescapable!” The supposed "specialist" shrugged and smiled shyly again.
Applejack slowly stood out of the splintery old chair, and took an almost predatory stance, ready to pounce on any of the Changelings.
Two of them screeched in terror, sounding like nails on a chalkboard. Applejack folded her ears, attempting to block the noise. She closed her eyes, as if it would help to stop it. The two Changelings ran out of the room, leaving Applejack and the other two to duke it out.
Applejack was still regaining her composure, and one of the Changelings took it to their advantage. They bucked her in the face, sending her tumbling backwards, smashing the chair with her weight.
Applejack roared in pain before climbing to her hooves once more, growling. The Changelings were surprised by her ferocity. She took her position again and said, “Oh, now you’re going to get it!”
She pounced at the nearest Changeling, grabbing them around the leg. The other used their magic to lift Applejack to the ceiling in an attempt to save their friend. Applejack held on, bringing the Changeling she'd grasped into the air with her.
With her new position, Applejack took the advantage she had, and flung the Changeling she grabbed at their friend. The one using magic had little time to respond, and was hit in the face by their teammate.
With the lack of concentrated magic, Applejack fell to the ground, belly first, knocking the wind out of her. She quickly recuperated, and glanced at the Changelings. One was slowly making its way to its hooves. Applejack gave them a swift buck to the head to knock them out for good. She glanced at the other one to make sure they wouldn't get up again.
The didn't.
She breathed heavily, smiling at her victory. She glanced around the room, trying to find something of use. She grabbed her rope in her teeth, and galloped through the door that the panicked Changelings had exited through.
She passed through the door, finding the other two Changelings trying to open the opposite aperture to the outside-section of the caboose. One of them wore her hat. Applejack smiled psychoticaly. The Changelings turned to face her, fear stained in their eyes.
Applejack said through her teeth and rope, “Happy to see me?” The Changeling with her hat shook his head, “Thought so.” She lassoed the rope around the other’s neck, and flicked her head up. The rope seemed to make a wave along itself. When it reached the Changeling, it was lifted into the air.
Applejack threw her neck down, almost touching the ground. The same situation happened once more, but with the reverse affect. The Changeling was slammed into the floor, knocking it cold.
The Changeling with her hat cowered in the corner. Applejack moved her head in such a way that the lasso removed itself from the first Changeling’s neck, and whipped it in the direction of the other. The final Changeling’s head was whipped against the wall, rendering it unconscious. Applejack’s hat launched into the air, then it slowly floated to the ground. She made her way to the Stetson, rolled up and laid the rope inside, and re-placed it on her head.
She stared out the window at the track. The train was still moving, so it must have only been those four on the train.
Applejack gasped. Maybe the large amount of ponies leaving the train was a Changeling group! She would have to send a letter to Twilight as soon as she reached Appleloosa.
The mare trotted up the train, trying to find any more Changelings. There were no more passengers in the cars.
She finally reached the engine, and opened the door. There was a pony shoveling coal into the furnace. On either side were the openings for the conductor to climb up on, revealing the fast moving desert region near Appleloosa.
“Excuse me?” Applejack asked politely. The pony did not turn to reply, only continued to shovel coal. “Excuse me?” Applejack approached the pony.
Green flame suddenly enveloped the pony as they transformed into a Changeling. "Oh, come on!" Applejack yelled as the Changeling swung the shovel at her head. She crouched under it before spinning on her forehooves and bucking the Changeling in the face. It recoiled and hit the wall, dropping the shovel off the edge of the car. The insct stared at Applejack and growled. It leaped at her, throwing its full body weight into its attack. Applejack dodged the Changeling, grabbed one of its hooves, and swung it off of the train and into the desert. It seemed to float alongside the engine for a while before its hoof touched the ground and was sent into a spiraling rampage across the dirt.
Applejack panted and smiled, happy that she had finally rid the train of Changelings.
She peeked around the side. She could see Appleloosa approaching. Applejack glanced at the controls for the train.
“How am I supposed to park this ?” She yelled to herself. She looked around at the many controls of the train, trying to decipher what could stop the automobile. As Appleloosa approached, she finally found the lever that looked most like a brake. She gripped the switch, closing her eyes and pulling, hoping to Celestia that it was the break.
The sound of steel grinding on steel filled her ears, and she was thrown into the front of the car, stopping herself with a hoof just before she hit the furnace. The train began to slow down. She sighed in relief. At least now she wouldn’t have to walk all the way to Appleloosa from wherever the thing stopped.
The train came to a full halt at the exact place it should have. Applejack stepped off the train engine and onto the platform, still breathing heavily from the Changeling encounter, slouching in exhaustion.
“Cousin!” Applejack turned and saw Braeburn trot up to her, “Glad to see you could make it!” Applejack smiled in return for just a moment, before placing her gaze back on dirt, and Braeburn remarked, “I didn’t know you learned how to drive a train!”
Applejack laughed. “Good to see you too.” She stood up straight, stretching her back. “I’ll tell you all about it after we get some "supplies" loaded off!”
Braeburn chuckled. “I hope these supplies will help us out?"
The mare grinned. "Not quite."
Thursday, November 16: Part 2
The orange mare watched as the Canterlot Royal Guard lugged the Changelings from the train and into an armored chariot lined with gold. The unconscious Changelings made no attempt to escape their clutches as they were hauled off to their prison-transport.
Townsponies passed by, glancing at the criminal monsters; some even turning to ask each other questions like, "Changelings still attack us?" or "Changelings on a train to Appleloosa? Could there already be some here?" It almost made Applejack feel bad about what she’d done.
Almost.
A loud commotion came from inside the train, bringing Applejack's full attention to it. The culprit was brought out into the open. One Changeling, the one who had told her about the "inescapable rope", was brought outside of the train, strapped to the guards back in such a way that it was unable to resist capture any way other than shouting.
“Put me down you worthless creature!” It hissed and howled. “I’ll have your head mounted on my mother's wall!” It struggled immensely, even causing the guard to stumble a little. He regained his balance and continued his canter, the Changeling growling at his failed attempt.
The Changeling spotted Applejack for the second it stopped its escape-attempt. "You!" It roared. "You filthy vermin!" The creature attempted magic, but almost passed out from the exertion; it was too weak from the fight.
The mare smiled. "I would strongly suggest you bring an army next time you mess with me." Then she muttered under her breath, "Or at least get a better rope-tyer."
The Changeling bared its teeth, hissing. "Oh, I will! We will get revenge on you, Applejack!"
Applejack grinned wider. Whatever punishment he got, he deserved. Braeburn slowly trotted behind her, watching the Changelings being loaded off. "Don't toy with your food." He joked.
The mare giggled.
"What happened on that train?" Braeburn looked Applejack over, making sure she was okay physically. "You alright?"
Applejack continued to grin as she lightly pushed Braeburn's head away from her body. "I'm fine." She nodded her head to the Changelings. "They ambushed me. Seems they don't like it when you foil their plans to take over the country."
Braeburn smiled. "Well, I know I would." He turned away. "You know where I live, so come along when you're ready." Applejack waved a hoof in confirmation. The chariot flew off as the last of the Changelings were loaded on-board.
Applejack slid onto the train again, noticing the few guards who remained in case of any hidden Changelings.
She trotted back to her original seat, luckily finding her guitar rested safely on the cushion. She strapped it around her back and exited the train. Hopefully that was the last bit of "adventure" she'd have for a while.
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Her coat and mane glowed in the sunset. The sounds of stricken chords echoed through the house once again. Although it wasn't her house, Applejack felt comfortable enough to leave the door open as she strummed the strings of the guitar. There was no specific tune; just an odd compilation of random notes sounding like some sort of melody. She watched her hoof as she hit the chords. Her legs stretched across the bed, putting her in an awkward looking position for a pony, but still comfortable to her as her head lie on the propped-up pillow.
Braeburn knocked on the open door, alerting Applejack of his presence. "Mind if I come in?"
Applejack glanced at him quickly before returning to her guitar. "It's your house, do what you want." She joked. Braeburn took that as a yes and entered the room.
"So, uh..." He paused as he sat down next to Applejack, shaking the bed and causing her to hit a wrong note. "The reason I brought you here..." Applejack stopped playing and looked into Braeburn's eyes. "The orchard's been doing pretty bad in the harvesting of, as well as the harvestable , apples, and you've been at this longer than anypony here." Braeburn broke eye-contact. "I need your help to find out what's wrong."
Applejack nodded. "Fine with me, as long as we get it fixed by Harvest." The mare returned to strumming. "I've got my own plans for that night." Harvest was a great day for her family.
But it was also the worst for her.
Braeburn grinned. "Thanks, Cuz. I really appreciate it." Braeburn stood up and left the room, closing the door behind him without so much as a glance back at her.
Applejack muttered to herself, "No problem." And continued playing...
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A crash woke Applejack from her sleep. She glanced toward the doorway, finding the door still closed. She stood up, throwing the covers off as she moved.
The mare opened the door and poked her head into the hallway, glancing down toward the foyer. There was nothing visible, but a scream that sounded outside the house threw Applejack's heart into a rampage. Applejack walked slowly toward the door that led to the living room, unbeknownst to what she might encounter.
Multiple screams sounded as she reached the entryway. "What is going on?" She cautiously reached for the doorknob.
The mare's heart skipped a beat as the door she stood next to was torn to pieces, and the face of a Timberwolf flew through it, landing on Applejack and snarling in her face. She yelped in surprise.
The wolf brought its head up to add force to its bite. Applejack took her chance and headbutted it in the chest, knocking it off her. The mare stood and rubbed her forehead as the canine regained its composure. "Can I not go a single day without some kind of monster trying to kill me?!" She yelled at the wolf. It growled ferociously in response, then dove for her again.
Applejack sidestepped its attack, allowing it to ram its head into the wall that led into the kitchen. She bucked its flank to jam its head inside the wall. The Timberwolf, unprepared for such a predicament, waved its legs wildly, hoping to get a hold on something to pull itself out. It eventually settled for pushing against the wall.
Applejack glanced around wildly, hoping to find something nearby to use as a weapon. From her own experience, its difficult to cut down a tree with hooves.
A hatchet hung on the wall opposite of the Timberwolf. Whatever its reason for being there, Applejack thanked Celestia and the nine divines for it. She ripped it from its holder, turning back just in time to watch the Timberwolf tear its head from the wall and bark at her.
The orange mare lifted the blade-hammer to her shoulder with one hoof, leaving her to balance on three. "Let's finish this." The wolf charged at her.
Applejack stepped to the right, hacking the blade-end of the hatchet into the wolf's neck and tearing it back out immediately afterward. The creature screeched in pain, falling to its side and sliding across the similarly wooden floor, hitting the wall with a small *thump*.
Applejack watched as it recovered quickly, completely ignoring the massive crack that lined its throat. Applejack spun the hatchet, now holding the hammer to the beast. "Resilient mutt, aren't you?" The wolf gave a half-bark before wincing in pain. It didn't have much of a windpipe now.
Applejack charged this time. She brought the hammer above her head, preparing to slam it onto the wolf's face.
It countered her with the same tactic she had used a moment before, sidestepping and watching her weight throw her to the ground. The creature moved in and bit down hard on her neck.
The mare screamed immensely as the pain seared through her spine. Still holding the hatchet backwards, she bent the leg holding it toward the wolf, placing the hatchet back into its previous landing point. She pushed toward herself, leveraging the wolf's neck. The creature broke off, annoyingly causing more pain as it left.
She had no damage to her muscles, though, so there was no real agony , just bleeding. She swung the hammer-end at the wolf, who had only backed off less than a meter, and slammed it into the creature's face.
The beast was flung away from Applejack, dazed by what had just happened. Applejack took the moment to hammer its head into the floor.
Swinging the tool heavily, she brought it onto the Timberwolf's skull (if it actually had one). She pummeled it repeatedly, popping chips of wood off in every direction with each hit as the head was slowly destroyed.
She stopped as the last blow completely blew the upper jaw off. Applejack calmed down as she backed away from the dead creature. Why was it there in the first place?
Then she heard howling. There were more... a lot more...
Applejack tossed the axe to the ground and ran out the front door to find something that she definitely didn't want to see.
