Sundown was jolted awake again by the piercing shriek of the morning call outside of the barracks. He was really getting sick of these damned air horns, or more, what they signified; the beginning of a new day, one filled with misery.

He rolled out of his cot reluctantly, not bothering to catch himself on braced hooves as he hit the ground. He landed heavily on his stomach, and forced himself to stand; his thighs still felt useless from the ordeal the other day with the logs' transportation. Every step he took towards the door, the other candidates rushing outside ahead of him in a groggy panic, he felt would be his last. He simply lacked the strength.

But, he wouldn't give up.

He managed to make it outside; it was still dark in the early morning hours of what he thought was the sixteenth day of the program, give or take a day. It was getting hard to remember.

Sundown staggered into formation; the echelon was barely a resemblance of the group that had shown up about two weeks ago, in numbers and in composure.

Sundown did his best to stand up straight as the instructors came gallivanting up to the front of the formation, too happy for anything good to be in store. All present suppressed a groan; they'd grown keen to the whims of the instructors, as well as the fact that they were something to be feared.

"Mules," sang out one of the instructors, undoubtedly Persephone by the chill tone in her voice, but her face remained hidden by the darkness, "Let me be the first to congratulate you on making it this far. Not many get to experience Hell Week."

Sundown didn't know whether to be proud of reaching this supposed milestone or afraid of whatever would come next.

"Five more days. Only five more, but in those five days, you will not sleep. You will not even stop for a rest break, except to eat. Granted, you will be getting more meals now, but not out of kindness. More so to keep you alive. And, if you're still here and breathing by sunset on the fifth day, I'll give you all a day off, and then we can get to something that's fun for all of us instead of just me."

Sundown, unable to look anywhere but straight ahead, heard a few of the ponies he had grown familiar with begin a deathly quiet grumble from beyond his plane of sight. He could hear Nightingale muttering something under his breath, and Angus quietly shuffling as he shifted his bulk uncomfortably behind him. He knew the others around him fairly well after two weeks training together, but those two he was closest with.

A few others had come close; Jay Cardinal was one, but she'd been dismissed with a broken ankle. So was Nova Aurora, but he'd quit a few days ago, and taken his strength with him; the logs had seemed heavier without him. Now, there were only enough candidates for one log team, and even then, they were all spent. No doubt 'Hell Week' would involve using some of the wooden hardware they'd hauled down from the mountains.

As if on queue, Sir yelled out, "Now fall out to the pit for log PT!"

"I can't get up," groaned Sundown from under the tree trunk, sweat rolling down his beige hide as his face contorted into an expression of raw pain.

Each and every equine beneath the branchless pine screamed as the log slowly made its way upward, leaving Sundown frozen below the burden in a squat.

"What's wrong?" yelled Nightingale, the position behind Sundown as the log reached its summit.

"My legs just froze!"

"Get him up!" yelled Angus from the position in front of the unicorn.

Nightingale, grimacing under the weight of the log, reached out with his front hoof, shifting his portion of the weight onto his back legs, and pushed Sundown up from his flank. He quickly slammed his hoof back into the sand, redistributing the weight on his shoulders, and locked his knees out as he waited for the instructors to tell them to continue.

"Can you keep going?" asked Nightingale, hissing to keep the instructors from hearing.

"I don't know. Not like this I can't."

"I can shoulder his weight," growled Angus, more out of pain than annoyance, "I got a good rest the other day on my way down the hill. I'm fresher than you lads, I can take more than my share."

"Me too," came a new voice, feminine but far from weak, from two positions behind Nightingale, "Let me take a chunk of the weight. I got it."

"I'm not lettin' y'all do my work for me!"

"Sundown," began Angus after a short break in the talk, made uncomfortable by the shouts of the instructors on the berm above, "I can take your portion of the log, but you need to squat with it. Lift what you can, and I'll get the rest. You did more than your share yesterday."

Sundown did as he was told, and the next time the instructors barked "Down!" he squatted with the log, but lead it downwards, and followed it upwards, lifting what he could, even though it was a meager amount. It was no issue of weakness, no lack of will that had caused it. His body was beginning to fail him; it was not uncommon among the others, and all had experienced the tensing of muscles, and their refusal to work at least once so far in the program.

The log reached a peak, and again, the instructors continued the candidates' agony with another command.

The sun beat down hard on Sweet Apple Acres as Applejack hauled one of the first of many baskets of apples down from the orchards to the barn. The large red structure had myriad purposes; a storehouse mostly, but it could be almost anything. Heaven knew it had been in the past.

Applejack ambled over to a large pile of baskets, filled with red apples, in the back of the barn, and laid it down heavily. She stood up afterwards, breathing deeply, and simply enjoyed a moment of not doing anything. Sure, she liked work, but, relaxation was welcomed just as much. And a little bit never hurt anypony.

She was alone in the barn; no doubt, the others were hard at work as well, with either chores or other odd jobs around the farm. Big Mac she knew was in the east orchard, undergoing the same task she was at the moment, and Applebloom and Granny were most likely preparing supper; it took a long time to cook those zap apple fritters just right, meaning now, in mid-afternoon, they would have had to have started baking.

One of the reasons Applejack loved the farm, as well as the work that came with it, was because it gave her time to think. It was hard work, but it was simple work that didn't take much thinking, leaving room for her mind to wander. And lately, it had wandered back to the same thing.

She pulled her hat off and wiped her brow, turning as she did to vacate the barn, and continue making trips back and forth between the orchards and the storehouse, but she realized upon turning that she had company.

"Oh. Hey there Pinkie," she said upon seeing her friend in the doorway.

"Hi A.J." responded the mare, forcing a smile.

It was something she seemed to be doing a lot of lately...forcing a smile. It seemed to have replaced her real smile, the one that had once brought happiness to all of Ponyville, all of Equestria at one time or another for that matter, but, it seemed to be growing rarer as the days went on. It was a genuinely sad thing, that her happiness seemed to be...receding. And Applejack knew why.

"What brings ya down here?" asked Applejack, taking a few steps closer.

"I don't know," responded Pinkie, coming inside the barn, "I just, sort of, felt like it I guess. I wanted to see somepony, and I figured you'd be around."

The answer seemed very reasonable to Applejack, especially for one given by Pinkie.

The normally jubilant mare took a methodical step inside the barn, looking up and around at its interior as if she were seeing it for the first time.

"It looks, um, different... from the last time we were all in here."

"Pinkie," began Applejack, "that's because the last time we were all in this barn was durin' cider season. This was a tavern then, not a barn."

Then, to Applejack's surprise, a genuine smile spread across Pinkie's face, a smile she had not seen in a long time.

"I still remember that night. We were all so excited because we were finally going to get to meet Clyde. We even put up all those posters just so he would know about it, even though everypony in town wouldn't miss cider season for the world. They must have thought we were idiots, putting up all those fliers."

"And then can you believe that Fluttershy had the idea to try and get him drunk?"

Applejack laughed, as did Pinkie, memories dancing in their eyes.

"Yep. That one sure threw me for a loop. Too bad that stallion was a heavy-weight."

"Seriously," agreed Pinkie.

The two laughed again, remembering how after nearly forty bits' worth of cider, the stallion was hardly buzzed, while they were all well passed hammered.

"I still remember how wierded out he was when you 'welcomed' him to town."

"Everypony is! I don't know why!" giggled Pinkie again, "But it was neat how once he realized it was something I liked doing, he didn't say anything else about it."

"Yeah. And that night, when we all got drunk, he carried us all home," continued Applejack, reminiscing.

There was a slight pause.

"We were so screwed up," giggled Pinkie, prompting a laugh from Applejack.

They laughed together for a moment, but again, grew quiet together, their smiles dying away slightly, and a long silence filled the air.

"I miss him," sighed Pinkie, looking back down to the hay covered ground.

Applejack took a step closer as Pinkie's frown grew, and a pair of tears formed in her baby blue eyes

"We all do," she said consolingly as she placed a hoof on her friend's shoulder, "We just have to be strong, together. We'll always have each other."

"Thanks," muttered Pinkie as tears wet her face, "It's just...it's hard to move on sometimes."

"Believe me, I know."

Pinkie leaned in tighter into Applejack's firm hug, and the two relished in each others' company in a tearful silence.

"Mules! Front and center!"

Less than a dozen winded ponies congregated into columns before the instructors. The sun had already set on the first day of Hell Week, signifying the completion of three hour long sessions of log PT, nearly twenty miles ran, and well over one thousand pushups and sit ups each, as well as another ten mile march in full combat armor.

Four more days to go.

"Any more of you want to quit?" barked the Major.

"No Ma'am!" came the unanimous response.

"Then prove it! Twenty laps around the track, go! In formation!"

The formation disbanded, and the candidates began running, the instructors chugging along at their sides, and Sir led them in a rhythmic, low pitched cadence. Sundown ran at the back of the pack, more because that's where he ended up than a lack of determination.

The first ten laps went down without a problem, but on lap number eleven, some ponies started to fall behind. First was Angus; a big body took a lot of oxygen to move, and with fatigue setting in, breathing was getting harder for the big stallion.

The group passed him up as he fell behind in pace, and the instructors took note, Grinder running up to yell in his ear.

"Get moving! What is your problem fatass! Too many fritters during dinner?"

Angus lacked the breath to respond, though the entire class, a few meters ahead of him on the track, wished for his ordeal to end. They'd all been there, but not in a situation like his. They were all spent, but Angus was one of the first to be failing because of it, and they felt bad for him, especially Sundown.

"You are weak! You're wasting my time out here Buckwheat! Just do yourself a favor and quit!"

As the instructor finished, Sundown broke formation, despite the scolding of the instructors. He backtracked on the track, and wheeled around to Angus's backside, and ran behind him, pushing him forward as he helped him to catch up with the rest of the formation.

"I got ya," he said, "I got ya."

"Thanks mate," gasped the earth pony, as they caught up with the others.

"No problem. You helped me out in the pit, it's the least I could do for ya here. We look out for each other."

No more words were shared between the two, but Sundown stayed at the back of the pack to repeat his role. The next pony to lag behind was Nightingale, and Sundown again 'helped' him back into formation as the laps continued. After the dark pegasus, a third pony began to fall behind, a bat pony, one that Sundown had never worked with prior. But, regardless, he ran at her flank, and pushed her back up to where she needed to be as the rhythm of the running continued.

"Thanks," she said; her voice was familiar, but Sundown, with the darkness as well as the devotion of his energy to moving forward, didn't see many of her finer features, "I thought you were done when I had to take some of your weight with that log."

"That was you?" he gasped, panting.

"I'm Cassi; don't bother, I already know your name."

There was a pause filled with the sound of synchronized hoof falls before she spoke again.

"I never thought I'd be falling behind. Normally I'm at the front of the pack."

"We're all fallin' behind. Don't sweat it,"

"Enough talking! Run!" yelled an instructor off to the side of the formation, and the conversation abruptly ended, leaving what was left of 2-4 to suffer through the night in silence.