It is another perfect day in the quaint town of Greenhill Pastures, located in the far off land of Foalington. The warm summer breeze blows over the lush green grass and thick, and the healthy trees and soft white clouds provide the perfect shade for any traveler who walks the dirt paths or any foaling who wishes to enjoy a nice book away from civilization.

That being said, a certain foaling in dirty overalls and a plaid shirt is enjoying her book with her back pressed against an oak tree and one leg crossed over the other in a picture perfect sense of bliss. Most would mistake the golden furred, red maned foaling as an actual foal, given that she is about the size of one, thus leading to their names, and most would not expect a foaling to read a book about architecture from Unicornia or Everfree. In fact, most foalings would probably fall asleep from reading it or read such a book to their children as punishment. But Apple Bloom is no ordinary foaling, and for that, she enjoys such things as boring architecture books and tales of the outside world.

Apple Bloom keeps one page pinched in her fingers as she studies a grand picture of a beautiful city built inside a mountain with towers white as pure snow and golden roofs. She gets a large smile and twinkle in her eyes as she imagines going to such a beautiful place to marvel at the beautiful structures, the numerous fountains and the massive waterfall in the center. The book has it labeled as “Canterlot of Unicornia” in calligraphy, and Apple Bloom makes a mental note to put visiting Canterlot on her list of things she absolutely has to do before she passes.

After licking her fingers, Apple Bloom bends the corner of the page and turns it to start reading about the rich history of the city. She barely gets a sentence in when she hears a couple of voices coming down the road with the clip-clop of hooves.

“Are we there yet?” asks an adolescent male.

“No,” spits a female with the voice of an adorable nerd.

Apple Bloom’s ears perk and her smile widens at the familiarity of the voices.

“Are we there yet?”

“No.”

Apple Bloom packs up her book in her pack and runs to the edge of the road, slinging her pack on her back on the way, and folds her arms across her chest with a well practiced disappointed frown as a raggedy wagon comes to view being pulled by a tired, brown coated horse. The wagon is loaded to its breaking point with crates of fireworks, and driving the horse is a lavender unicorn mare with shades of purple for her mane, wearing a grayish-purple cloak with a look of pure, unadulterated annoyance on her face. Her name is Twilight Sparkle, proud student of Queen Celestia, and she is really wants to hurt someone.

“Are we there yet?” repeats her companion; a purple drake with green spikes lying on the crates with his hands behind his head and his eyes closed. Unlike the mare, he is wearing a fancy black outfit with a golden sun on the chest and gold trim, and a sheathed, decently sized sword by his side.

“No!” screams the unicorn, snapping to the drake with a fire in her mane and eyes ready to stab him with daggers. “For the last time, Spike, we. Are not. There!”

The drake, Spike, stares at Twilight for a few seconds, matching her fury with his boredom, before asking: “How about now?”

Twilight stops the cart with a hard tug that is met by a whine from the horse and she jabs at Spike’s nose with her finger.

“That’s it! No ice cream for you!” seethes Twilight.

“Aw, c’mon!” whines Spike, now fully up and pleading with puppy eyes.

For the most part, Apple Bloom thinks it is best not to say a word during their bickering, but decides to intervene when Spike goes on to saying he deserves ice cream for his carpal tunnel and bad back. And she gets their attention by clearing her throat, which works miracles.

“You’re late,” claims Apple Bloom snobbishly.

Twilight looks at Apple Bloom with bewilderment. “We can’t be... Are we... Spike, what time is it!?”

Spike shrugs. “I don’t know. Mid afternoon now, and It’s been three days-ish since we left that one town way back over where that Klumsy K place is.”

“‘Three days-ish’!? There can’t be an ‘ish’ in scheduling!”

“Sure there can.”

Apple Bloom’s stern demeanor melts to a wolfish smile and a barely held snicker when the unicorn growls and extends her hands like she is going to strangle the purple drake. Then Apple Bloom falls to the grass, clutching her stomach and kicking her legs in a fit of laughter, and since she is on the ground, laughing, she cannot see the glare Twilight is giving her. It takes a moment for the lavender unicorn’s glare to disappear with a sigh and a slump of her shoulders.

“I’m not late am I?” asks Twilight.

“Nope!” says Apple Bloom after taking a few seconds to catch her breath. Her face is now red and she wipes some happy tears off of her face, saying: “Yer actually early.”

“Early?”

“Yep!” Apple Bloom hops on the cart without asking for an invitation and nestles up next to Twilight, ignoring the large sigh that escapes the unicorn in response to her putting her muddy feet up with her hands behind her head. “Granny Smith will sure be glad t’ see ya, though.”

Twilight orders the horse forward with a click of her tongue and Apple Bloom has to catch herself lest she wants to faceplant the road.

“I’m sure she will,” says Twilight.

“So, what did ya guys do?” asks Apple Bloom.

She looks to Spike for answers and once again the drake shrugs.

“Meh, stuff. We traveled. Made campfires. Helped people along the way. You know, boring stuff,” says Spike carelessly.

Apple Bloom’s ears droop in disappointment. “Didn’tcha do anything fun? Like go to Canterlot or Ponyville? Or fight monsters?”

“Well, there was that one thing-”

“That was not a monster. Just some guy with mental problems who dressed up like a spiky pig thing in red robes,” interrupts Twilight.

Spike snickers and leans closer to Apple Bloom so he can talk lowly in her ear.

“One of the places we visited had a weird superstition with red and yellow. Twilight almost lost it there and we high tailed it once we solved that pig monster mystery,” he says quietly.

“Really?” gasps Apple Bloom excitedly.

Spike nods. “Yeah, and the best part was when the village tried sending a blind girl to travel far away to get medicine for some guy that got stabbed.”

“That was incredibly stupid of them,” grumbles Twilight. “I’m amazed that that place is able to survive.”

Apple Bloom chuckles and reclines in her seat once more, letting the sun warm her and the clip clop of hooves relax her like a lullaby. She closes her eyes and is about to have a pleasant dream of going on an adventure of epic magnitudes when-

“Now we’re here!” chirps Twilight, once again pulling the cart to a stop and petting the horse's head as it neighs and shakes its mane.

Apple Bloom opens her eyes and remembers that she had not traveled too far from Granny Smith’s home, thus making for a disappointingly quick trip. The cottage itself is built right on the crest of a hill so it can overlook other wooden cottages, the rolling hills, and the market set up next to the river and its watermill.

Without being told, Apple Bloom hops out and opens up the white picket front gate, which serves more as a decoration than an obstacle, and leads Twilight to the door. She looks over her shoulder, silently questioning where Spike is, but upon seeing the dragon sitting on top of the crates, sharpening his sword with whetstone, she knows he has been stuck with the dreaded cart duty. Not putting much more thought into it, Apple Bloom unlocks the door and lets Twilight inside her grandma’s abode.

Twilight has to almost crawl to get inside, and Apple Bloom fights a snicker when the guest bonks her head on a rafter and a chandelier in seconds time.

“Apple Bloom, is that you makin’ all the ruckus!” yells an old mare down the hall.

“Yes, Granny, Ah’m back!” hollers Apple Bloom, again holding back a laugh when Twilight tries to steady the rocking chandelier.

Apple Bloom puts her fingers to her lips and motions Twilight to stay quiet as she motions her forward. Twilight nods with a smile of her own and the two sneak down the polished hall, past the antique decorations and the oil paintings of the Smith bloodline.

“You sound like an earth pony back there!” says Granny Smith, her voice emanating from a room tucked away near the back of the house.

Apple Bloom and Twilight step into the room where Granny is, and exchange smiles when they see light green mare appearing to be middle aged, wearing a similar outfit to Apple Bloom, hunched over her wooden desk, scribbling on parchment bound in between leather covers. She is too busy to look up, so they sneak forward, holding their grins, and right as Granny Smith dips her pen in a bottle of ink, Twilight extends her hands, ready for a blitz hug.

“Did you happen to meet Twilight?” asks Granny Smith.

“Nope,” answers Apple Bloom with a devious smile.

“Huh, I thought you did. You and her smell like Orange’s compost pile.”

“Hey!” whines Twilight, her hands quickly retracting and her face contorting with hurt.

Granny Smith turns around, grinning broadly, and she laughs and stands up to hug Twilight around the waist. Like Apple Bloom, Granny Smith is a foaling, so she appears to be a child, and when Twilight relaxes, realizing that her leg is just being pulled, she kneels down and returns the hug, laughing softly.

“I’m glad you’re here, Twilight, it’s been too long,” says Granny Smith.

“You didn’t think I would miss your one hundred and twentieth birthday, did you?” says Twilight as she rubs Granny Smith’s grayed mane.

“Not on purpose. Last I heard you were off as far as the Smoky Mountains,” says Granny Smith. She looks at Apple Bloom and flicks her head towards the doorway as a quiet way to tell her granddaughter to get lost. Once Apple Bloom scampers out of the house, she pulls away and looks up and down the unicorn’s body. “You’re aging well. Got any colts going after you?”

Twilight chuckles uncomfortably and rubs the back of her neck. She knows she has had more than a few stallions ogle at her, some being more discreet than others, and some encounters being just plain embarrassing.

“I don’t have time for colts,” says Twilight, blushing lightly, and adding: “But you’re aging really well, too.”

Granny Smith smiles nervously as her hand slowly slides into her pocket, obviously meddling with something while stroking an ink drawing of an amulet in the shape of an arrowhead with a diamond in the middle and wings flanking a unicorn head on the top. Twilight’s awkwardness fades to concern and her attention drifts to the bulge marking Granny Smith’s hand until the foaling speaks.

“I know, but none of us can live forever and you’ve still got some usable years left, so you should take advantage of it while you still can,” she says as she closes her book. Then she smiles and starts towards the kitchen after closing her book. “How about I fix you a little meal before the party starts? It won’t be till nightfall so you’ll have plenty of time to wait for the good stuff.”

Twilight forces herself to smile and nod. “That sound nice. Thank you.”

Granny Smith returns the smile with something heavy clearly on her mind, and starts towards the kitchen, leaving Twilight alone.

Twilight watches the old foaling until she is out of sight before she reads the title of her book in progress. The Riches of Lookout Mountain: A Foaling’s Tale.

Twilight gets a nostalgic smile and once again checks to make sure Granny Smith is preoccupied before she carefully opens the book to the picture of the amulet. She reads a little bit of what Granny Smith wrote, which is when the both of them and a company of earth ponies were making their escape from a diamond dog tunnel network. It makes Twilight's smile grow, but when she goes back to looking at the drawing of the amulet, the smile fades. The object is painfully familiar and questions begin to swirl through her mind as to how Granny Smith managed to draw such an accurate picture of it.

Twilight flips through the book, hoping to see something that will give her an answer, or at least a clue to it, but she finds nothing. Twilight huffs and closes the book, then she goes through the notes and crumpled parchments that carpet the desk with the empty inkwells and worn pens. During this, she uncovers another object of familiarity. It is an old map that is now displayed in an elegant, wooden frame, and it has locations of every location that the two of them visited on their quest with amazing accuracy. From the locations of Foalington to Armonia, to the Diamond Dog Caverns and Rocky Spine Pass, all the way to Lookout Mountain, which is appropriately represented as a lonely mountain at the top left corner of the map with a dragon curled around its top. Seeing the map brings the smile back to Twilight’s face, but as much as she wants to, she can’t reminisce over the journey she took with Granny Smith and the band of earth ponies to the mountain because she is being told that the food is done from down the hall.

Twilight puts the map down and goes to the dining room. Granny Smith is already fetching a whistling tea kettle, and on the table is a simple assortment of cheese, bread and butter as well as apple slices.

“Apples. Why am I not surprised?” jokes Twilight.

Before Granny Smith has a chance to make a quirky answer, there is a heavy knock on the door that makes both mares jump.

“Purity! Purity Smith! Open up! I know you're in there!” hollers an impatient young mare from outside.

Granny Smith curses under her breath and hides under the table with a slice of buttered bread. Twilight looks at her questionably, but when the old mare tugs at her cloak, she awkwardly crawls under the table, bonking her head yet again and causing the contents to shake.

Twilight winces and tenderly rubs the top of her head and horn as Granny Smith shrinks farther to the ground in response to the persistent knocking knocking and calls.

“I'm not at home,” insists Granny Smith with wide eyed terror.

“Diamond, sweetie, I don't think she's home,” says an older stallion.

“But that's Spike on Twilight's cart!” says the mare, Diamond Tiara.

“Actually, I'm Spike's twin, Wingnut, and I'm on a mission from the Church of Faust the Creator,” says Spike. “Would you two like to hear about my Goddess and Savior, Faust?”

A moment of silence passes before Diamond Tiara snorts. “I'd rather not. Come, daddy, we have guests to charge.”

Next comes the steps of the unwanted guests fading away and a grin spreading across Twilight's. “Good boy, Spike.”

Granny Smith sighs with relief and crawls out from under the table with Twilight, who is having considerably more difficulty and ends up knocking over a chair. She is quick to apologize and turn the chair back up, but Granny Smith dismisses it with a wave of her hand.

“It is fine, Twilight,” says the old mare. “It is a sturdy chair that has been through many terrible things and yet still holds strong.”

Twilight looks at the chair with a cocked brow and spots some... interesting stains to darken its brown color. Twilight chooses not to think about the correlation between the stains and Granny Smith's cryptic praise, and instead she takes another chair, this one almost next to her long time friend.

“Are the Rich's still going after your property?” asks Twilight, thanking Granny Smith soon after since she pours her a nice cup of steaming tea.

“Even in their dreams they are plotting ways to take my property,” grumbles Granny Smith as she pours herself a cup of tea as well. “They will be sore to know that in my will I am giving Apple Bloom explicit instructions not to sell my property to them under any circumstances.”

“This property means that much to you, huh?”

“It has been in my family since the founding of Foalington, and I will not shame my ancestors by selling my property to anypony, much less those who have sold their own souls. And I know Apple Bloom will do the same.”

Twilight nods and sips her tea, marveling at the great taste with a lick of her lips and an ear twitch. The taste is oddly citric with a noticeable burst of caffeine going through her whole body. It is more like an energy tea than anything else, which she considers an affront to tea everywhere, but she can't deny how interesting it is.

“What is in this tea?” asks Twilight.

“Good ole Mandarin Orange came up with a new type of tea he wants to sell,” says Granny Smith. After she sips her tea, her face contorts to confusion and her whole body shakes enough to unsettle the table for a moment's time. Twilight nearly misses lifting up her tea cup in time and after Granny Smith shakes off the energy burst, she continues with her finger rapidly tapping against the table top. “I told him it was impossible to make his 'orange tea', but that old coot only took it as a challenge and dropped a whole crate of his new tea bags on my door. I just now tried it. And I think he put something special in it. Do you want to smoke?”

Twilight looks out the window and sees Spike wowing the local troublemakers, an orange pegasus with a purple mane and a white unicorn with a puffy, purple and pink mane. The former being Scootaloo and the latter being Sweetie Belle. Both are dressed in casual shirts and trouser and listening intently to whatever tale Spike is telling with his exaggerated movements.

Seeing this, she looks back at Granny Smith and nods with a smile. “What place do you have in mind?”

Forty five minutes later and the unicorn and the foaling are sitting on the crest of a rich hill with their backs to an ancient oak tree. It is still daylight, but the orange in the sky and the rosy colors bleeding from the horizon are a clear reminder that night is nearing. However, Granny Smith does not look joyful over the special occasion that is soon to come. Something is weighing on her mind, and that is obvious from her slacked shoulders, distant eyes and the way the pipe she is chewing is popping up and down, weaving a pattern of light gray smoke in the air.

Twilight is sitting not too far from Granny Smith, choosing to keep herself seated on one of the large roots snaking out of the ground with one leg bent to her chest and the other stretched out. She is also smoking a pipe and is casually watching the foalings down below set up tents, but Granny Smith's moping demeanor has not escaped Twilight's attention.

“What's on you're mind, Purity?” asks Twilight.

Granny Smith sighs and pulls out her pipe to look at her unicorn friend. “I'm too old for these celebrations.”

Twilight looks at her long time friend. “Too old?”

Granny Smith nods and slides her hand inside her trouser pocket once more. This catches Twilight's attention, but keeps her eye movement to just a flicker so she can watch the old mare's facial expressions.

“In my youth I enjoyed these things,” explains Granny Smith, her eyes going back to the setting sun. “These parties, these guests and presents, and attention in general, but now I am tired of it. I had led a shallow life until you showed up and had me come with you to Lookout Mountain, and ever since then I've been wanting more. And it has always been denied to me.”

Granny Smith forces a chuckle and blows out a puff of smoke, but that makes Twilight only more nervous because of the laugh's bitterness.

The old mare's chuckle ends with a depressing sigh and her eyes fall to the preparing party below. “I love Apple Bloom, always have, always will, but ever since I took her in with my child's passing I have felt an obligation tying me to this place. I love Apple Bloom like she is my own daughter, but I also love the Outer World. I love the mountains, the rivers, and the cities you tall folks build. I want to feel something more than just Foalington grass underneath my feet. I want to feel... alive once more.”

Twilight's eyes drift back to Granny Smith's pocket, where her hand is once again fiddling with something inside.

“Don't you feel alive with Apple Bloom around?” asks Twilight carefully.

Granny Smith nods, smiling faintly. “I want to. She reminds me of me when I was young, but I have a void that cannot be filled, it seems. I have this... hunger, you could say, and it won't go away. No matter how much I think about the joys Apple Bloom has brought me, it is not enough. I need more. I need to leave this place for one last adventure, and possibly go somewhere quiet where I could finish my book, and if I could, I would take Apple Bloom with me. Maybe another trip to Armonia is what I need. I would love to see your Queen and marvel at the sights again with Apple Bloom by my side... But I know she won't go. She is too much in love with Greenhill...”

Granny Smith removes her hand from her pocket and rests it on her stomach. The pair sit in silence for another minute before Granny Smith puffs out a ring of smoke towards the open sky and leans back against the tree with one leg crossed over the other and a growing smile on her face as she places both of her hands behind her head.

“But enough of this depressing babbling! This is going to be our one last hurrah, Twilight, and we’re going to party until our own feet can't hold us up!” says Granny Smith confidently and a twinkle in her eyes as she looks at the unicorn.

Twilight feigns a heartfelt smile and looks at the preparations below. “Yeah... I can't wait.”