Chapter 1: Home in the River Valley
Her head was about to explode. Apple Bloom strained her mind so hard that she was certain another moment of concentration would cause her skull to simply pop under the pressure, allowing all her useless thoughts and ideas to splatter across the riverbank in a brilliant spray of pure brainpower. She squinted tightly and clenched her teeth. Summoning every ounce of concentration in her young mind, she braced for one final surge of mental exertion. Something was coming to her. It was a brilliant idea, she could feel it. The thought was ready to enter her mind, but she couldn’t focus on it, like an apple that just wouldn’t buck. Sweat broke out on her brow as she let out a loud groan. It was too much. The filly flopped backwards and allowed her mind to relax, absolutely exasperated with her lack of progress. It was a feeling she had known far too well on her quest for a cutie mark.
“I got nuthin’,” she admitted, lolling her head to the left to bring her friends into view.
“Think harder!” insisted Sweetie Belle, “at this rate, we’ll never get our cutie marks!”
“Yah can’t just get a cutie mark by thinkin’ ‘bout it for a long time.”
“Yea, we tried mediation last week,” Scootaloo pointed out.
The trio sat in silence for a moment, looking around for inspiration. Applejack had suggested that they ought to go out and find fresh ideas. She said sitting in the clubhouse all day was caging their thoughts. The cutie mark crusaders had taken the advice. They wandered through town, losing track of their objectives and themselves, eventually finding their way to a secluded part of the river’s bank.
It was a lazy summer day, and the whole world seemed to be spinning slowly. Even the excitable cutie mark crusaders were unusually calm under the warm sun and cool breeze. They lay in the shade of a beautiful oak. The whole biome seemed to be trying to convince them that crusading could wait. The leaves gently rustled overhead, the branches slowly swaying to and fro. Birds sang in perfect harmony, tempting the fillies into sleep.
“Will you shut up?” cried the jarring, impatient voice of a nearby mare.
“They’re birds, Thrift. They can’t understand you,” replied the equally irritable tone of her male companion, ignoring the furious and insulted chirps of a nearby blue jay.
The fillies snapped out of their nap to regard the new arrivals. They were a pair of unicorns wearing sharp suits and bored frowns. The mare studied her surroundings keenly with piercing green eyes that contrasted brilliantly with her tan coat and neat, black mane. She glared at everything with distrust and bemused disapproval, as if she expected the whole world to pull a fast one on her. Her eyes never fell on one item for too long. With hawklike perception, she was constantly scanning for the next threat, and the next opportunity. She was a fairly young adult, but her face bore no trace of youthful joy or hope.
The stallion who strolled beside her seemed thoroughly bored by all this ‘life’ business. His coat was a light gray, his mane still a shade lighter. Wrinkles ran across his face. Dark bags had long since made themselves home around his dull blue eyes. He had a thousand yard stare, and seemed to have little regard for his immediate surroundings. Each of his long strides seemed to flow on from the last with a sense of purpose and determination. Any observer could see that he would not allow anything to get in the way of whatever serious business he was undertaking.
“Ya’all ever seen them before?” Apple Bloom asked in a hushed tone.
“I think they’re new in town,” replied the pegasus.
“They look awful serious.”
“I bet they’re up to something,” Sweetie Belle joked with a cheeky grin.
“Some pony ought’a keep an eye on ‘em.”
The trio froze as the idea hit them all at once. They exchanged silent glances for a brief moment, before simultaneously springing to their hooves with glee. A loud clap rang out as the three fillies bumped hooves.
“Cutie mark crusaders super sneaky spies!” they cried, before hushing one another with a loud “shush”.
Sweetie Belle lowered herself to the ground and leopard crawled into a nearby bush, beckoning her friends to follow. They complied without hesitation. With a rustling of leaves, they stuck their heads out of their cover one by one. As the pair continued down the river bank, the cutie mark crusaders stalked them, darting from bush to bush as stealthily as possible. All the while, the pair were mute, and the fillies began to lose interest.
“I’m bored,” Sweetie Belle confessed.
“Me too,” agreed the pegasus.
Apple Bloom felt her friends staring at her, waiting for her to concur. They were left wanting as the earth pony frowned in confusion at the ponies they were stalking.
“Now, why in the hay are they headed that way?” she mused as the suited ponies turned towards Sweet Apple Acres.
***
Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo hung back as the two unicorns approached Applejack, who was lazing beneath an apple tree. The farmer tilted her Stetson and grinned broadly at the new arrivals before springing to her feet. She shook their hooves enthusiastically, with typical Sweet Apple Acres hospitality. Even at their distance, the cutie mark crusaders could hear her warm greeting. The unicorns were suddenly wearing pleasant, generous expressions, mimicking the workhorse’s sentiment.
Applejack allowed her excitement to die down, and her voice dropped to a volume that was inaudible to the crusaders. The suited stallion said something to her with a thin smile. The grin on Applejack’s face faded, giving way to a look of concern. She slowly made her way towards a nearby barn, beckoning the unicorns to follow. She called out to Big Macintosh and Granny Smith to join them.
The fillies exchanged curious glances before creeping towards the barn. They came into earshot just in time to hear the unicorn mare say “So, who are these fillies who have been following us from the river?” with a nod towards the bush the crusaders were hiding in. Without hesitation and wearing smiles as sweet and innocent as you please, the crusaders hopped from their cover
“You three! Yah can’t just follow a pony around like that,” Applejack scolded in annoyance.
“We’re sorry,” Sweetie Belle whimpered, casting her head down in shame.
“We were just curious is all,” Apple Bloom added, following her friend’s lead.
“It won’t happen again,” promised Scootaloo.
Applejack regarded the fillies for a moment. They shrank under her gaze, appearing very sorry and, frankly, adorable. Their pupils were dilated impossibly and they were avoiding eye contact. Each filly was impossibly still, as if petrified by their own guilt. All at once, they pulled themselves up and shot puppy dog eyes at Applejack.
“Please forgive us,” Sweetie Belle whimpered. Experience had taught them the art of the fake apology.
Big Macintosh and Granny Smith walked up next to Applejack and saw the apologetic fillies. They glanced disapprovingly at the orange coated pony. How could those three little fillies have done any wrong?
“Well, it’s all right,” Applejack said reluctantly, “now you three run along. We got big pony business to discuss.”
The crusaders stared on repentantly as Applejack, Granny Smith, Big Macintosh and the two unicorns entered the barn. As soon as the door shut, the trio raced to it. Pushing their heads against the barn, they strained their ears to eavesdrop on the “big pony business”.
“Alright,” said Applejack once the door was closed firmly behind her, “I guess you two better say your piece, then we’ll give our response.”
“Indeed,” agreed the unicorn stallion, “My name is Robert Baron, this is my associate Thrift. We have an interest in your farm-”
“What kind of interest?” demanded Granny Smith suspiciously.
The unicorn smiled affectionately at the old mare before continuing, “Straight to the point. I like that. We want to buy Sweet Apple Acres, and we’re prepared to pay-”
“Not for sale.”
“We’re prepared to pay-”
“You can’t put a price on our lifestyle. The farm’s not for sale.”
“We’re prepared to pay-“
“Not. For. Sale.”
“We’re prepared to pay fifty million bits,” the stallion managed finally.
Granny Smith opened her mouth to protest, but could summon no sound. She allowed her mouth to close as her eyes widened. It was beyond belief. Nothing like this had ever happened before. They could be rich, beyond their wildest dreams. It took a moment for the idea to sink in.
Robert Baron felt the tide turning in his favour, and persisted by saying “I represent a VERY determined client. With VERY extensive resources. This money could carry your family a long way. You could have a whole new life.”
“Family meeting!” demanded the old mare, pulling Applejack and Big Macintosh into a tight huddle with their backs to the unicorns. The three of them whispered frantically for a while. They were inaudible even to the perceptive Thrift. They sounded ecstatic at first, but their excitement dwindled as they continued their hushed conversation. Eventually, they let out a collective sigh and turned to face the unicorns reluctantly.
“Nope,” Big Macintosh said.
“Sorry,” Applejack added, “but our family started this farm. Sweet Apple Acres saw Ponyville founded and all. There’s a lot of, err, what d'you call it...”
“Sentimental value?” suggested Big Macintosh.
“A lot of sentimental value attached to this place. We can’t just leave it in the hooves of somepony else. We've put generations of work and thought into the farm, and we ain’t about to let it slip away from us. Not to mention that it’s our parents’ legacy and all. We can’t let it slip away. Not for all the money in the world. Can’t put a value on something like this. I hope ya’all understand.”
“I assure you we’d take very good care of the place,” insisted Thrift.
“Now, I’m sure you would. But this farm... it’s what we are, ya know? Wouldn’t trade it for the world. I’m sorry, but we can’t give up on the old girl, even if it would make us millionaires.”
“Is that your final answer?”
“That’s our final answer.”
Thrift glanced over at the stallion by her side, searching for some indication of their next move. He met her eyes for only a moment. With the slightest shake of his head, completely imperceptible to the earth ponies, he made his message clear. The pair looked at their would-be sellers with disappointment, but maintained friendly smiles.
“Well, we’re sorry you feel that way,” Thrift concluded as she stood up, “we know you’re busy, and won’t take up any more of your time. Have a nice day.”
“No problem. Sorry we couldn’t oblige you,” Applejack smiled.
“Thank you for having us,” Robert Baron said, exiting the barn with his colleague.
The crusaders scurried back into their bush before the door was fully opened. They were determined to remain unseen this time. Staying low to the ground and completely motionless, they observed the pair of unicorns carefully. The friendly smiles had dropped from their faces, replaced by the same old bored, businesslike frowns. They trotted together in silence, hurrying down the road to some new very important appointment. The cutie mark crusaders crawled after them, staying within earshot.
“So what now?” Spec inquired after they were a sufficient distance from the barn.
“We never expected them to sell,” Robert Baron said matter-of-factly, “but we need to look like the good guys here. Ponies need to think that we took every reasonable action before taking more hostile measures.”
“Hostile measures?” Thrift halted, and nudged her hoof gently against the stallion. She nodded towards the nearby shrub and smirked.
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Robert Baron said with a wave of his hoof, “Anyway, you know what I mean by hostile. Devious. Nefarious. Odious. You were asking me earlier why we bought that plot of land further upstream. Well, such a site would be perfect for a new food processing plant.”
“Building a plant upstream of an agricultural town?”
“Yea, you get the picture. You’ve got to think outside the box in this line of work, Thrift. We’ll be the sole distributor of apples in the Midwest within a year.”
“Does it matter that-“
“Don’t worry about them,” the stallion looked directly at the cutie mark crusaders, who thought they were so well hidden in the vegetation, “no pony will take a trio of little fillies seriously. Even if they did, there’s really nothing they could do about it. We couldn’t fail if we tried.”
The crusaders emerged from their hiding spot and stood defiantly before the unicorns. Apple Bloom frowned scornfully at them. She was determined to take a stand against them, to say something truly meaningful and intimidating.
“I don’t know what ya’all got planned, but it won’t work. The farm’s been in our family fer generations, and we ain’t about to lose it,” was all she could manage.
“Don’t believe in that too strongly,” the stallion suggested in an empathetic tone, “don’t believe in anything too strongly. You’ll only ever end up disappointed. I’ve been alive a long, long time. Let me share a little gem of wisdom: all that matters in life is what you can take from it, and for every winner there’s a loser. I’ve been doing this sort of thing for decades, and I don’t make a habit out of failure. We’re always the winners. You know, we’re doing you a favour, really. The sooner you learn this lesson, the better off you’ll be. See you around, kiddo.”
The stallion smiled at the fillies, before turning his back on them and heading down the road with his colleague close behind. Ignoring the infuriated glares of the fillies, he sighed deeply and shook his head in pity. It was a site he’d seen a hundred times before. He halted at the crossroad and turned back to regard the fillies once last time. As he expected, they were rushing up to the barn to warn Applejack of the impending “hostile measures.”
“Do they always make it this hard for themselves?” inquired Thrift, “Do they always fight it?”
Robert Baron huffed cynically before replying, “Only when they have no chance.”
Apple Bloom’s heart pounded at a phenomenal pace. Confronting the tycoon had spurred her into action before reason. She was gripped by a weird sense of urgency and haste, forcing her onwards. The filly felt that a few moments’ delay would result in the loss of the farm. Adrenalin surged through her body as it kicked into gear, giving her the energy and drive to move faster than ever before. She was galloping at the greatest pace she could muster, her mind numbing with panic and exhaustion. Her eyes darted about in a furious search for her sister. Coming to the top of a gentle incline, she saw her target lying nonchalantly against an apple tree.
“Applejack!” she cried, skidding to a halt in front of the mare.
Applejack regarded the exhausted filly with concern for a moment, waiting patiently for her to continue. Apple Bloom was speaking intelligibly. She was trying to talk and hyperventilate at the same time. As she huffed and hollered, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo came up next to her. They were in a similar state of exhaustion. All three fillies stared at the mare with expressions of urgent panic, unable to say a single understandable word.
“Alright. Take a deep breath. No need to rush. Now what’s got you three in such a sorry state?” Applejack drawled with a whimsical smile. She had grown quite used to her sister’s unusual questing antics.
“Applejack,” Apple Bloom finally managed, “You’ve got to listen to me. Those ponies that were here to buy the farm – they ain’t giving up. They said something about a, err, plant, or something. They’re going to destroy the farm!”
“Hold your horses,” her sister laughed, “what makes you think they’re out to wreck the farm?” her smile faded into a suspicious frown. She stabbed the fillies with cold eyes as she demanded, “In fact, how’d you know they wanna buy the farm in the first place?”
A heavy silence hung in the air while the crusaders racked their minds for a way to talk their way out of a scolding. An escape. In hindsight, they realised that it was probably something they should have figured out before approaching any pony with the news. It seemed silly that they should get in trouble for what they had done. After all, they had more important things to worry about: Sweet Apple Acres was in danger. The other two instinctively looked to Sweetie Belle.
The unicorn smiled up at Applejack and shrugged her shoulders slightly, but the workhorse’s face remained cold and unyielding as she studied the trio. “We followed them again,” the filly admitted reluctantly, “We’re sorry. We know it was the wrong thing to do. But you’ve got to hear us out. The farm is in danger.”
“Now, you’re not talking your way out of it this time. I’m surprised at you three for straight up lying to me like that. You said you wouldn’t do no more snoopin’ around.”
“Well, it’s just as well we did. Those two ponies are bad news.”
“Now don’t you change the subject. You can bet I’ll be telling your sister about this!”
“Applejack,” Scootaloo urged her, “you said we should tell you when something’s wrong. Well, something’s wrong now. We’re trying to do the right thing by you here.”
“You’ve got to trust us on this one. Those fancy city ponies are trouble. We’ve got to do something to stop ‘em,” Apple Bloom added finally.
“I’ve heard quite enough ‘bout them city folk. You can’t just eavesdrop on some pony’s conversation like that. You got to respect their privacy. More importantly, you went behind my back. I thought we trusted each other, Apple Bloom. We’re sisters.”
“Well then, why didn’t you trust me with hearing what them unicorns wanted?”
“Apple Bloom, it’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just that all this business talk is a bit beyond ya’all. You’re just a little filly. You just let the big ponies-”
“Ah am a big pony!” Apple Bloom cried, stomping her hoof in indignation, “if it weren’t for me, ya’all still wouldn’t trust Zecora. Ain’t I proven I’m not just a stupid little filly?”
Applejack opened her mouth to apologise, but hesitated before the words reached her lips. Why was it that her little sister always seemed to turn the tables like that? She closed her mouth and her lips curled into a smile. It was time to retake control of the conversation. Choosing her words carefully, she resumed her lecture in a calm, measured tone.
“Now, no pony’s calling you stupid, Apple Bloom. That goes for the two of you as well,” she nodded at Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, “no pony thinks any of you are stupid. But you ARE young. There’s things you don’t understand. The business of running the farm is one of ‘em. There’s no reason for you to worry about it. You can trust your brother, granny and me to make the best decisions. You’re kids, and that surely ain’t a bad thing. You shouldn’t have to worry about this kind of stuff. As you get older, we’ll teach you how to take care of this place. One day you’ll be the head honcho ‘round here. But for now, all ya’all got to worry about is being young. And that ain’t much to worry about, believe me. Now go on, get! Have fun with your youth while it lasts. We’ll handle the farm until you’re ready. Don’t you worry about that.”
Apple Bloom glanced from Applejack to Sweetie Belle to Scootaloo. Neither of her friends were offering any further protest or quarrel. The mare had diffused the situation. With a disgruntled huff, Apple Bloom gave in.
“I’m sorry, Applejack. We won’t have any more to do with these ponies who want to meddle with the farm. I know I can trust you to handle it,” she mumbled in apology before turning away from her sister. The trio returned to the cutie mark crusader clubhouse in silence.
***
“Okay,” said Apple Bloom once they arrived at the club house, “what are we going to do with these ponies who want to meddle with the farm? I don’t think my sister can handle it.”
“We don’t know where they came from or where they went. There’s not much we can do until we see them again, “ Sweetie Belle pointed out.
“I guess we just need to wait for them to make the next move,” Scootaloo suggested.
The three fillies considered this for a moment. Waiting wasn’t really their thing. They could barely sit still most of the time. Still, the strange unicorns seemed like a serious threat. Apple Bloom was certain that it had fallen upon them to determine the most appropriate course of action and follow it, even if the course of action involved some element of inaction.
“Alright,” the earth pony agreed at last, “we’ll all keep our eyes and ears open. If any of us find anything fishy going on, snoop it out and tell us all about it.”
“Right,” her two friends confirmed simultaneously.
Thinking they had made the best decision, the fillies relaxed. The meeting quickly switched its focus to their regular cutie mark crusading. Their plans of outdoor activity were quickly dashed by a storm that was rapidly brewing upstream.
“Now why’ve the pegasi got to plan a storm just when we’re all set to go out and get our cutie marks?” Apple Bloom demanded.
“The weather’s important. They don’t have time to care about whose parade they rain on,” Scootaloo replied defensively.
“Seems everything’s more important than us,” Sweetie Belle complained with a loud harrumph.
As the ominous storm clouds rolled in from the north, the fillies grew thoroughly bored. The storm was too strong to consider leaving the shelter of the clubhouse. Any hope of doing anything fun or productive with the day was eliminated as it set in with increasing strength and ferocity. All the fillies’ plans for questing had been thwarted. Their only option was to weather the storm as best they could before getting on with their lives and making hay while the sun shone.
A shiver ran up the millionaire’s spine. Filthy Rich couldn’t believe what he was reading, but he knew his source was reliable. Still, he read the short report over and over as if willing it to change. Maybe there was some small detail he had missed which would make everything alright. It was a forlorn hope and he knew it. There was no use denying it or ignoring it. Something had to be done.
He exhaled heavily and rubbed his temple in frustration. Sleep was tempting him. It seemed his body didn’t want to deal with this crap. Lifting a mug to his lips, he resolved to stay awake until he’d come up with a sound angle of approach. This was a delicate issue, and needed to be handled with due thought and care. Realising that his cup had been drained of the last ounce of coffee, his resolve instantly broke. Caffeine had become something of a vice for the stallion. With a grumble, he allowed himself to doze off for a moment. His desk seemed more comfortable than any bed. It was magnificent. To his dismay, he was snapped out of his sleepy state almost instantly by a loud clap of thunder. Peering out the window, he regarded the storm with disapproval.
“Well, this day just keeps getting better and better,” he mumbled to himself. It was unusual for anything to get him this down. His natural demeanour was calm and agreeable, and he made an effort to maintain it. Regardless, the content of the report on his desk forced him to make an exception to the rule. He’d never dealt with anything like this before. Now it had fallen on him to figure out a way to stop the newest tycoons in town from eliminating Sweet Apple Acres.
The stallion was too used to being a big fish in a small pond. Ponyville had always been so comfortable and safe. He inherited a healthy, prosperous business that was guaranteed to thrive in the small town as long as everything stayed the same. If he treated his customers and suppliers well, they’d have no reason to break their business relationship with him. They all made enough money to live their lives the way they wanted to, and all he had to do was keep his businesses running like well oiled machine. The system worked well, although it took a lot of time and energy that he’d rather spend with his family.
Filthy Rich tiredly rubbed eyes for what felt like the thousandth time. He realised he was procrastinating. In a sudden surge of motivation, he picked up a golden fountain pen in his mouth and pulled forth a blank roll of parchment. Eyes twitching from the report to his work and back again, he put his thoughts to paper in a burst of productivity. After four hours and several scrapped scrolls, he finally reached his solution. Smiling with satisfaction, the tycoon breathed a sigh of relief. He lifted his eyes from the desk. Lazily glancing out the window, he was almost glad to see it was still storming. His plan required him to head to Sweet Apple Acres, but the storm was potentially dangerous to any pony venturing outdoors. Satisfied that there was nothing more he could do until the storm cleared, Filthy Rich allowed himself to drift into sleep.
***
A day after the storm cleared and both Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo had left the farm, Apple Bloom was helping her sister tend to the apple orchid. The filly studied her sister carefully, trying to emulate her. Applejack would clear a tree with a single buck and Apple Bloom would buck a tree and shake an apple of two down. There were other jobs she was more suited to, but the filly wanted to show that she was capable of doing big pony work. Applejack didn’t have the heart to make Apple Bloom follow her around with a bucket at the best of times, let alone so shortly after the eavesdropping debacle. The filly felt like she was her sister’s shadow, and she desperately wanted to become more.
When the mare’s attention was taken by an approaching figure, Apple Bloom took the opportunity to frantically lash out at a tree. One apple at a time, she picked the tree clean before quickly regaining her composure and smiling up at her sister, pretending that she had cleared the tree in one solid buck.
Applejack smiled at her sister knowingly before acknowledging the approaching stallion. “Howdy there, Mr Rich,” she said enthusiastically.
“Hello, Applejack,” he replied, “mind if I have a word with you and yours? We’ve got problems.”
The mare felt her face droop. Swallowing hard, she forced an unconvincing grin as she addressed her sister, “think ya’all can handle the field for a moment?”
“Sure!” was her enthusiastic response.
Apple Bloom continued the harvest as the two grown ponies headed off. After a moment, she glanced over her shoulder. She was certain Filthy Rich was referring to the suited unicorns. Allowing the pair to gain a lead, the filly crouched to the ground and followed them like a shadow.
“So what’s the problem?” inquired Applejack in a hushed tone.
“It’s probably best I tell the whole family at once,” Filthy Rich replied.
“Granny Smith’s out in town gettin’ some supplies and Big Mac’s way out in the far western field. I’ll give the news to ‘em, don’t you worry about that. We don’t exactly got the leisure of having so much spare time out here, ya know.”
“I appreciate that. It’s probably best I just level with you. Ever heard of West Coast Produce?”
Applejack blinked blankly.
“It’s a fairly big company,” the stallion continued, “owns most all agriculture from Vanhoover to Los Pegasus. Well, now they want to expand into the Midwest, and Sweet Apple Acres happens to be smack-dab in the middle of the middle. They want the farm, Applejack.”
“I know that. Two city slickers rocked up here yesterday. Offered a pretty penny for this place. We can’t sell it though, you know that.”
“Already? They’re moving faster than I had hoped. Listen, these ponies are ruthless. Sweet Apple Acres stands between the west and the east. If they get Ponyville, they essentially expand their territory all the way to Dodge City. This is one of the biggest expansions Equestria’s ever seen, and they’ve got the resources and determination to pull it off. If they can’t take the farm, they’ll destroy it and establish their own. It’s all the same to them.”
Applejack stopped in her tracks. She stared at the stallion blankly for a moment, trying to study his face. He seemed genuinely concerned, but the mare didn’t buy it. She frowned at him in frustration, grinding her teeth for a moment. It didn’t make any sense to her. Between the dramas of everyday life and having to save Equestria every other month, the farm was the only enclave of permanence and security in her life. Now some rich pony in a suit was trying to tell her that some other rich ponies in suits wanted to take it from her.
“Good gravy, what in the hay are you going on about?” she demanded, advancing on Filthy Rich furiously, “You’re talking like they can just up and take what’s ours. They try to buy us out, we’ll say no. They try to bully us out, we’ll stand up for ourselves. They go too far, we get the authorities into it. This ain’t a problem.”
“You’re underestimating them. They’re patient, cunning and act only in prudence. Months before they offered to buy the farm, they were preparing to construct a processing plant upstream. Construction could start in as little as two weeks.”
“So?”
“So, the pollution and salinization from the plant will cripple the farm past breaking point. We need to act, Applejack.”
The pair stared at each other in silence for a moment. Applejack was racking her brain for some argument or retort, as if shooting the messenger would solve the problem. Surely there was some kind of law or rule protecting her. After all she’d given to Equestria, the nation ought to protect her. Before she raised this protest, she realised that the stallion wouldn’t be there if this was the case. The stubborn anger melted from her face. She swallowed hard to soothe her dry throat.
“Well, what can we do?” she asked at last.
