The ocean stretches out before you. You’re standing on railroad tracks suspended well above the water on a concrete bridge held up by arches and pillars. The air is thick with salt to the point it stings your eyes. Water crashes against the pillars beneath you, but the splashes do not reach you.

It’s green.

The roaring, relentless ocean is absolutely green. You’ve never seen the ocean, not like this one. You crouch down, grasping the rough edge of the concrete in your hands. Trying hard not to blink, you gaze diligently at the emerald waves as they break and build. You don’t know why they’re so fascinating. It doesn’t even occur to you to ask how this was built, or why. Such things don’t seem important.

A train is coming.

A harrowing whistle shatters the air, holding long and true. It’s a brutal note to hear.

A train that will take you far away.

You get to your feet, looking down the tracks. They stretch forever as far as you can see, but there is no steam, no iron beast bearing down on you.

You know where you hope this train will take you, but you’re not sure.

The whistle rings out again, closer this time. Despite your searchings, however, you still see nothing. Your heart begins to race.

But it doesn’t matter. Do you know why?

You pick a direction and start running. Maybe it’s away from the whistle; you can’t know for sure. You think it is. Running into the harsh, salty air makes you blink. But you can’t let it slow you. The noise of the concrete scraping the soles of your shoes grows louder, more urgent as your pace quickens. There’s still no train in sight.

I don’t know why! How could I?

It’s not a whistle any more, it’s a screech: an unearthly, guttural scream. You turn around; the train is close, impossibly close. It’s tearing down the tracks, gaining on you. You’re running as fast as your legs will take you, but it’s still not enough. It was never going to be enough. You let loose a scream of your own, hoping to match the train’s, but it’s only drowned out. There’s no room to dodge the train and stay on the bridge.

It’s going to hit you. It’s right there.

You leap.

The ocean rushes up to meet you—but does so in silence.

For that’s all your world ever was.

You open your eyes. Waking is sudden, but completely undramatic. There’s no sitting up abruptly, no sweat pouring down your skin, no panting as if you’d just come up for air. All you do is stare at the ceiling, wondering if it might come crashing down or hold for another day. Light spills in through the nearby window, falling across your lap. Your eyes follow the sunbeams until they hit an orange leg lying on your chest, slowly shifting with the breathing of its owner. You adjust yourself to look at Applejack, who’s still asleep, lost in the world of her dreams.

Your action brings an unconscious mumble from Applejack as she wraps her forelegs further around you and squeezes, almost as if she knows it’s morning and time for you to leave. You run a hand idly through her mane, letting the smooth hair brush up against your skin. Her mane is uncharacteristically exposed; no hat to hide it and no tie to keep it bundled up. You’re thankful she decided to stay the night, even if you had protested it at first. She knew what was good for you better than yourself—though that hardly came as a surprise.

This wasn’t the first time you’d been your own enemy.

You consider waking her, but decide against it. Right now, you’d like some time alone to let the thoughts stirred up from last night free. A walk would do you wonders.

Quietly, you slip out of Applejack’s grasp, careful not to disturb her or the covers. She mumbles to herself again once you rise from the bed, but soon returns to her slumber. You sneak over to the dresser, pull out a set of clothes and proceed to dress yourself silently. A small voice arises in the back of your head, telling you the secrecy was pointless—dangerous, even. Didn’t you just admit Applejack knew what was best?

You dismiss the thought and finish your morning routine without a word. AJ usually woke quite early; you were lucky enough that she had decided to sleep in today. Finally ready to head out, you look back at your mare one last time, hesitating a moment before walking out the door.

She’d be fine.

Kicking at the dirt, you set on down the path toward town, hands stuffed in your pockets. You’d spent so much time with Applejack over the past few days, the loneliness of this walk had caught you off-guard. This was necessary, though. She couldn’t be asked to carry all of your problems. They were irrelevant, born from a world she’d never see or know except through you. You look up, gazing at a mountain not far off. As you recalled, Applejack and her friends had once ascended it in order to save Ponyville from the smog of a dragon’s snore. A grin flashed across your face. Snores weren’t exactly what you’d consider dangerous, but this world was strange enough to believe it.

And there it is again. That odd feeling you got from nature here, like things didn’t quite line up, like the scenery wasn’t raw and pure like back on Earth. It threw your walk off-balance just the slightest bit, but nothing more. Maybe it was some weird pollen, or magic pollution, or perhaps you were developing allergies to something. Whatever it was, there was little to do about it at the moment, and truth be told, you didn’t care enough.

Looking at the mountain again, you remember rock climbing with Alice. The feeling of rugged rock on your hand, dusted up with chalk as you pushed yourself higher and the thrill of conquest, standing at the top of a wall that had seemed so intimidating before. She was just a good a climber as you, and twice as ambitious. You often found yourself being the voice of reason, talking her down from climbing impossible inclines, or taking on mountains neither of you were trained for. If she were with you right now, she’d probably have already challenged you to a race to the top of the mountain in the distance.

With a grimace, you kick the dirt much harder, but your foot slips and you find yourself nearly falling over. After a few unstable steps and some drastic waves of your arms, you rebalance and resign yourself to continue the walk, the frown still stubbornly attached to your face.

“Hey, dude!”

You turn your head to the familiar voice as Rainbow Dash zips in, blazing just inches above your head. The dust she kicks up makes you cover your eyes as you do your best to hide your frown. No reason for Rainbow to concern herself with your fervent nostalgia. When you hear her hooves clop on approach, you uncover your eyes and give her your best smirk.

“What’s Equestria’s fastest flier up to?” You extend a hand.

She returns your smirk in kind and slaps your hand with a forehoof. “You mean, besides being awesome? Oh, I just thought I’d head down to the market today. Got some things to pick up. You?”

“Out for a walk.”

“Uh-huh.” You think you see one of her eyebrows twitch before she takes up pace next to you. “Where’s the marefriend, ya big stud?” she asks, prodding your rib.

You find yourself gritting your teeth through the reply. “Still asleep. Guess she picked today to sleep in, happens only about once in a blue moon.”

“I don’t know how she can live like that! I mean, there are a hundred great places in Ponyville alone to sleep. I hardly have enough nap time to enjoy them all.”

Putting a hand to you mouth, you stifle a laugh. “You talk like you never nap, but I swear, if you’re not with me, doing your job, or reading in the library with Twilight, you’re napping. You say you don’t know how AJ wakes up early, but I don’t know how you always sleep so late.”

“Napping’s the best. You’ll come around to it. You just need to learn how to nap properly.”

“Now you sound like Rarity. ‘How to nap properly’,” you say, doing a poor impersonation of the fashionista while crooking your wrist.

“Hey!” Rainbow bumps into you, sending you off course. As you regain your balance, you’re finally able to crack a real smile for the first time today. “Teach you to mess with this.”

“Whatever.” You roll your eyes and stick your hands back in your pockets, your eyes drifting to the same sky Rainbow makes her living in. A few clouds wander by, but it’s a clear day for the most part and the sun is moving into its early afternoon position. Closing your eyes, you smile and let the wind roll over you, taking in the peace of the moment. This influx of clarity gives rise to an unexpected thought.

“Dude?” Rainbow breaks you from your musings.

“Ah, sorry. Mind wandered a bit.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t think I’ll ever get that about you. How do you just drift out of the moment like that?”

“That never happens to you?”

“Nah, can’t lose your concentration in the air, especially when you spend your time doing tricks as cool as the ones I do. Why would I want to space out like that? I could be spending the time doing something more interesting. ‘Sides, you look silly when you do it.” She ends her statement with an antagonizing grin and you respond by ruffling her mane. “Aww, c’mon, dude, cut it out!”

“Pfft. Like you spend time keeping your mane straight.”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. Awesome is as awesome does.” You watch her quickly pat her mane back down, her cheeks flushed from what you assume is embarrassment.

“Hey, Rainbow...”

“C’mon, bud, I told you you could call me Dash.”

“Alright, then, Dash.” You pause to take a deep breath before asking, “What’s it like to dream?”

“Oh, don’t tell me this is another one of your super deep questions. You spend way too much time thinking about that stuff. I need to take you out more.”

You give her a playful jab. “Really, though. What is it like to have such a clear view of your goal?”

“You mean, like, wanting to join the Wonderbolts?”

She’s definitely trying to avoid the question. Rolling your eyes, you reply, “No, I mean like how you’ve always wanted to be an underwater basket weaver.”

“Hey! Cut the sarcasm, smart guy! I was just making sure.” Tapping a hoof to her chin, Dash starts absentmindedly hovering next to you. “Well, I dunno. It makes my days a lot simpler. Practice, read when I’m tired or sick of practice, then nap. Work at my job when I have to. Things seem straightforward, and I’ve got no lack of motivation, ‘cause I know, one day, I’ll be a Wonderbolt. You don’t spend all that time working for something and never get anything in return. World doesn’t work like that.” Screwing up her face, she adds one last thought, “At least, I don’t think it does. If it doesn’t, well, screw the world. I’m gonna be a Wonderbolt anyways.”

“You seem pretty confident about it.” Your voice is level and cool, though tinged with apprehension. Dash picks up on it.

“Heck yeah! I’m the only pegasus to do the Sonic Rainboom, period! I think I’ve earned a little bit of confidence.”

You give a half-hearted shrug. “Fair enough.”

Rainbow eyes you cautiously, as if trying to read you beneath the stoic visage and less-than-enthusiastic shrug. Keeping your eyes locked on the path ahead, you do your best to give nothing away—though her inspection is starting to put a dent in the good mood you’d been building up. To be fair, however, you’d stirred the conversation up with that question, ‘What’s it like to dream?’ You can’t help yourself; one of the reasons you love hanging out with Rainbow so much is her unwavering certainty. ‘Screw the world, I’m gonna be a Wonderbolt anyways.’ How does she think like that? Has her life been so sheltered to think all her dreams would come to fruition?

“Alright, you got one, so now I get one,” she says.

“Huh? One what?”

“One question. You like your profound questions, so I think I wanna try one of my own.”

“I dunno, I wouldn’t really call that question ‘profound’. And I kind of prefer smalltalk to philo—”

“Dude, that’s total bull, and you know it. Now stop trying to weasel out of it!”

With a huff, you sink your shoulders and slouch. “Okay, okay. Fair’s fair. You get a question.”

Rainbow did a spin mid-air and pumped a forehoof. “Yes! You ready for this?”

No, you thought, but instead say, “Just ask it already.”

“Do you regret not doing anything back where you came from? Seeing as you’re stuck here and everything.”

Internally, you cringe, but do your best to keep your face level as you close your eyes and raise your head to the sky. Sure, you regret plenty. Regret never saying goodbye, never making a name for yourself, never climbing Everest or running a marathon. The list went on. Those were all other peoples’ dreams, though. Conquests you borrowed. Nothing you decided to do to show yourself and the world that you could do it. Nothing, except...

“I wanted to see Fljótavík*.”

“Flo-ta-what now?”

“Fljótavík. It’s a... cape in Iceland, a country in the world I’m from.”

Rainbow raises an eyebrow at you. “And why did you want to see it? Is it a real popular place or something?”

“No.” You lower your head a bit and look to Rainbow. She probably won’t understand, but you did agree to answer. “Someone sang a song about it.”

Rainbow gapes and narrows her eyes in response, painting bewilderment plain on her face. Just as you figured. “The second I think I’ve got you figured out just a little... I mean, a song? That doesn’t even... what was it like? Lots of heavy guitar?” She stretches her forehooves out and starts air-guitaring, shaking her head back and forth. “That’s some—”

“No, no, not at all like that.” You wave your hands, interrupting Dash’s solo performance. “It was slow, but paced with a restrained urgency. There was guitar, but not like you’re thinking. More mellow than heavy. I think the best way to describe it would be hauntingly beautiful.”

Dash simply stares at you a moment before replying, “You know how girly that sounds, right? I thought I was supposed to be the mare here.”

Typical Dash. “A healthy appreciation of music doesn’t make me a damn mare, Dash. You wanted to know the answer, well, you got it.” Your voice comes out a bit rougher than you intend.

“Woah, woah, I didn’t mean to trample on your pride, there, bud. You like that kinda, music? I’m down with that. I just didn’t expect it from you. You’re always trying to build yourself up as some strong, unflappable statue of a stallion, but here you’re telling me you got a sensitive side.” A grin creeps up on her face as she nudges your shoulder. “You’re just a big softie. That’s cool with me, I like softies.” She leans in and whispers into your ear, “Just don’t tell Rarity or AJ. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

You feel a familiar elation build up within you, the same that you’d felt threaten earlier in the conversation. It bubbles up onto your face, though you want to hide it, doing your best to hold the smile back. Dash is pretty crude sometimes, and perhaps a touch more blunt than necessary—but you love that. You steel your gaze, pushing the happiness off of your face and letting it out elsewhere.

Dash gives a yelp as you snatch her out of the sky and pull her into a great bearhug, squeezing the rest of her yelp out of her lungs.

“Oh, geez, you stupid oaf, you’re messing up my coat and my mane now! And watch the w—ugh!” You cut her off with another squeeze. She talks like she wants nothing to do with it, but she never struggles. In fact, her forelegs find their way around your neck as she indulged in a small hug of her own.

The thought of hugging Dash any other time seemed ridiculous. She isn’t the sensitive, understanding one; she’s the competitor, the athlete, the ambitious one. To any of her friends, the scene would send them to laughter or to question their sanity. Here, though, on this lonely road, amongst a war of your thoughts on the battleground of your mind, it makes sense. Truly, it’s the only thing that makes sense.

You can feel her body heat emanating from beneath her coat as well as calming, even breaths against your chest. With a smile, you realize she likes it just as much as you.

After a few more moments, you release her and she settles back into a pace alongside you.

“So help me Celestia, if you ever dare tell anyone about that...” She let the threat hang in the air.

“Hey, same to you, Dash.”

Turning to her back, Dash begins to fumble with her wings, which have become stiff and unresponsive. “Stupid things!”

“Why are they doing that, anyways?” you ask, reaching out to touch them yourself.

Dash’s face flushes red and she freezes, staring at you. “Y-you don’t know? Nopony ever told you?”

You roll your eyes. “No, I’m not exactly an expert in pegasus physiology.” You’re about to grasp a wing to help push it back down when she smacks your hand away.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll be fine! And hey, look! We’re back in town! Better get down to the market!”

Dash points forward, and sure enough, Ponyville is just ahead. You open your mouth to repeat your question, but Dash has already taken off and you’re forced to run to keep up with her. By the time the two of you make it into market, you’re too worn out to care about the question or even ask it through your panting.

The two of you make your way through the market, Dash working rather quickly as she always does, zooming from one stall to the next. The place isn’t too busy at this hour, though there is still plenty of commotion between the hawkers and customers. Dash adds her own degree of activity as well. You’d be surprised if she doesn’t forget something, given the urgency with which she’s moving. Watching her shop, you wonder what might have caused her to speed up so, though you’re not so sure you’d get a straight answer. Besides, Dash is prone to sudden gear shifts like this. It’s just the way she lives: napping one moment and racing the next.

After she finishes up, she flies up to you one last time. “That’s all I need. Wanna walk back out toward my house with me? I could use somepony to help carry all this stuff.” She emphasizes the latter statement with a smirk.

“Ah, I think I’ll hang out here for a while. Gotta sit down before heading back out. Thanks for keeping me company, though.” You start to turn away, but pause and look back to Rainbow. “I mean it. It... helped.”

“Anytime, man, anytime. You know I got your back!” She holds a hoof out and you smack it, then wave at her as she flies off.

You spend the next hour or so wandering around town, walking down roads both familiar and unfamiliar. It’s a bit hard to get lost here, though. There town is pretty small. You pass by both the library tree and Sugarcube Corner, letting your thoughts wander briefly to the encounters you've had with the ponies who reside in each building. Pinkie is ever the ball of energy and relentless enthusiasm, somepony you both love and hate being around. Her attitude wears on you at times, and it doesn’t help she reminds you just the tiniest bit of Alice.

Twilight is nearly the opposite. As long as you never get her worked up, she’s as rational and level-headed as anypony else. A head smarter, too. You can’t help but think back to what she said yesterday.

‘She is a very traditional pony. Her entire family is. I didn’t expect her to be so welcoming to somepony that isn’t, well, a pony.’

To tell the truth, you haven’t seen any evidence of that, but it’s possible you’ve been blinded by your attraction to Applejack. Maybe it‘s time for you to look at things a bit more objectively. You can also go find Twilight and inquire further. She’s one of Applejack’s good friends, it’s likely she knows more.

With a sigh, you pinch your nose and shake your head. You’ve done far too much thinking today. Some rest and time away from yourself would help, but since the latter is impossible, you instead settle for taking a seat on a nearby bench. As you collapse into the seat, you let out a deep breath of content and focuse on the first thing you see in front of you. To your surprise, you’re facing the same mountain you’d seen earlier today.

It seems like a quite a coincidence.

“Dragon Mountain, they’re calling it now.”

You turn around, coming face to face with a familiar pony, the same one you’d run into on the trail yesterday. His dark coat drinks in the early afternoon sunlight and his teal blue eyes reflect an odd sort of knowing back at you. You greet him with a nod and a polite smile before shifting your attention back to the mountain.

“It’s a bit too simple and straightforward, if you ask me. I prefer more esoteric meanings, symbolism and the such.” He walks over and takes a seat next to you. “You know what they called it before the dragon incident?”

“No, I’m afraid not.”

“Horn of the Valley. Or, ‘Yevantatsuun’, in Old Equestrian. I liked it better.”

“Huh.” It’s somewhat interesting, you suppose, though you aren’t really the one to put time into researching that sort of thing. “Dragon Mountain seems easier to remember.”

“So it is. And that’s probably what the history books will remember, too. Such a pity.” His gaze sinks, downtrodden at thought.

“And why would an earth pony like you put so much stock into knowledge of history? Are you a historian? Is that your special talent?” You crook your neck to get a good look at his cutie mark, but the way he was sitting and the position of his legs block it from view.

“A historian? I suppose I am, in a way. I don’t have any books on the mountain, though I indulge from time to time. The library here, for instance, is surprisingly well-stocked and the librarian is quite dedicated to her craft. I recommend you try reading up when you can.”

“I’m more worried about other things at the moment. Like right now, what I’m thinking is how I might be able to climb that mountain, and whether or not my special somepony would like to do it with me.”

“That one’s pretty easy to climb. There’s a path all the way up to the top, actually.”

“Yeah, but that defeats the purpose. I’m not interested in a path, I want some vertical cliff faces hanging hundreds of feet up. That’s rock climbing. You take the path, you call it a hike.”

“Do you often take the hard way?” His question hooks with a tone of curiosity at the end.

“I suppose I do, more often than not.” You almost laugh at your answer. Here you are, talking with a complete stranger, yet you had no qualms sharing with him. Maybe whatever makes you feel uneasy around nature here makes you comfortable with ponies—or maybe it’s just this pony in particular. In either case, there’s no real harm indulging him at least a little bit.

“I love having that element of unpredictability, choosing the thing you think you ought not to just because it might be more interesting that way. Much like how magic works,” he says.

“Eh?” You sit up and finally take your gaze from the mountain. “What’s magic got to do with anything?”

“Magic has two sides. One is much like physics: you expect reaction B when you present action A. It’s very predictable and, as such, well-documented. This is what your studious unicorns like Twilight excel in. With time, study, and determination, any unicorn can master this aspect of magic. I call it ‘substance’.

“But there is more to it. A side that so few students of the field see; a trait with no limits, no rules, no libraries of information on. Every unicorn taps into this, most without realizing it. It’s impossible not to.

“You see, magic is a direct defiance of the order of the physical world. Without magic, there is only physics, only calculated action, only formulated function. When you throw a rock into the air, it will come back down every time. But what happens when you levitate it with magic? Where does that force come from? Where does it go when the rock is released? When a unicorn transforms a grape into, say, an orange, where does the energy for the change come from? Sure, research can tell you what the force on the rock is, and how matter shifts in a transformation, but there are cracks, tiny spaces in these explanations that almost nopony sees.
These unanswered questions, these gaps in logic... they are the other side of magic, the unpredictable side, what I call ‘Will’. And the only limit on Will is the one possessing it.”

You cross your arms, incredulous. “And why would an earth pony like you be so interested in magic? As a matter of fact, how can you claim to know more about it than most unicorns?” You poke at his forehead. “You hiding a horn there or something?”

“Not at the moment, I don’t think.” He looks up and pats at his forehead with a hoof. “Nope, definitely not.” He lets out a grunt as he hops off the bench. “But I’ve bored you long enough with my ramblings. Places to be and such.”

“Is your dream to have a horn?”

Throwing his head back, the stallion gives a deep belly laugh. “My dreams are lost upon the world. But who knows? In Equestria, I’ve found quite literally anything is possible. You may learn the same before long. Farewell!” With a wave, he trots off down the street, concerning himself with whatever strange ponies like himself concern themselves with. Curiosity nibbles at you, but not enough to eat into your time by following after him.

You lean forward, putting your weight on your elbows as they dig into your legs. It just occurs to you that you never got that pony’s name or made note of his cutie mark. Even sitting next to you and sharing his thoughts on history and magic, he somehow managed to remain an enigma. You shrug to yourself—it doesn’t matter either way. He was somewhat interesting, but nothing more than another stranger. One willing to talk to the strange human, which makes him okay in your books, but still just a pony.

As you continue to gaze into the distance at the mountain—Yevantatsuun, was it?—a bizarre urge comes over you. Lifting up your hand, you motion to grasp the tip of the mountain and hold it. A want, a need to seize it grew from your loins like hunger. Your ambition begins to run wild as you stand up and start walking briskly toward the mountain. It must be miles away, an hour or so if you jogged, but you had to get there.

You start to run, though you don’t know why. Your vision shakes with each stride, but the mountain remains clear and stable. Maybe ponies are watching you, maybe not. You don’t care. Breath straining, your pace takes you outside of town, near the path you took in. It has been a while since you last ran like this, ran with purpose, with destination. Most of your runs are aimless, just for exercise. Now, though, everything seems so absolute, so defined, you chastise yourself for not doing this sooner.

“Heya!” Someone shouts your name.

You continue to run, unhindered. Grass, trees and earth rush by you, almost a blur. With each step, that mountaintop moves closer an indistinguishable amount. You have to get there, though.

“Where you off to in such a hurry, sugarcube?”

The mountain is the world, the world is the mountain. Your body is your stride, your breath, your speed.

“I’m talkin’ to you!”

An orange blur slams into your vision, bring your dazed sprint to an abrupt halt. You’re able to stop yourself just inches from Applejack, who you notice has a very annoyed look on her face. Somehow, though, you feel you’re not responsible for it.

“What exactly are you doin’?”

“Uhh...” You scratch the back of your neck and look back and forth between Applejack and the mountain. “I’m... not sure.”

Following your eyes, Applejack looks behind herself and takes note of what you were looking at. “You heading somewhere?”

“I think I was.”

Her visage turns from annoyed to frustrated. “What’s that s’pposed ta mean? Were you or weren’t you?”

“I just—” You start fumbling with your hands, sweat forming in your palms. “I had to get there, Applejack. I don’t know why. I needed to make to the top of that mountain, own that peak. Never, in all my time in Equestria, have I felt something so powerful. Like I’d finally have a purpose if I made it.” Solemnly, you turn your gaze to Applejack. “Have you ever felt that way?”

She shakes her head slowly in response. “No, I can honestly say I haven’t.”

“Heh, well, you never do say anything dishonestly.”

Applejack is not amused by your attempt at a joke. “You’re worrying me, hun. I’ve never seen you spaced out like that, like your sanity’d left the world and sailed off somewhere else. Now you say you were overwhelmed by some strange feeling? Maybe a doctor oughta take a look at you.”

“I don’t need a doctor.”

“Well—” Applejack sighs and shakes her head. “Alright, if you say you don’t need a doctor, I trust ya. Still worried, though.”

“I gave you good reason to be.” Letting out a breath, you put a hand on your hip and point toward the mountain with the other. “Ever tried rock climbing before?”

“I’ve seen some goats do some pretty impressive things on a vertical rock face, but I can’t say I’ve ever given it a shot myself.” She lifted a hoof, holding it out to you. “These ain’t exactly made for it.”

You nod. “Of course,” you reply, but a grin slinks onto your face. “Wanna try it?”

She looks back between you and the mountain, wearing a frown. “Now I’m all for being daring and ambitious, but there’s a difference between daring and stupid. Tryin’ to climb a mountain with nothin’ but hooves is stupid.”

“You wouldn’t just have hooves, AJ. We’d use all the proper rock climbing equipment: ropes, carabiners, and the such. If you do it right, there’s almost no risk.”

“I guess...” Her voice trails off, still considering the prospect. You understand her hesitation, but hope her adventurous side wins out over her cautious side. Sometimes she just put too much thought into something, or played things more strictly than necessary.

Safe to say, it bugs you.

“C’mon, I’ve done this plenty of times. I’ll make sure everything goes smoothly.”

She taps her chin a few times, then raises an eyebrow at you. “You haven’t been talkin’ with Rainbow Dash lately, have you? This sound like somethin’ she’d do.”

“R-Rainbow Dash? I guess I’ve been talking to her. In fact, she walked me into town.”

The statement brings a coy smirk to Applejack’s face. “Is that it? You’s was just takin’ an innocent walk into town with her?”

Narrowing your eyes, you lean in toward her. “Yeah... I’m not sure where you’re trying to go with this...” Did she know about the hug? Was she watching? Rainbow would kill you if AJ found out!

“Her wings happen to stiffen at any point?”

“Yeah? What’s that have to do with any—” Your face goes blank as realization draws over you.

“Heh, looks like you jus’ figured that out yerself. You know, ‘round here, we call ‘em ‘wingboners’.”

She can’t be serious.

“Looks like Rainbow’s got a thing for ya, Twig-legs.”

“I swear we didn’t do anything!”

Applejack seemed taken aback by your desperate defense. “She’s a pretty mare, and one of my best friends. Great catch all around. Why wouldn’t I want you doin’ anything?”

“It was just a wa—wait what?”

“What’s wrong with havin’ a go at Rainbow Dash? I sure wouldn’t mind.”

You blink, speechless, and stare at Applejack, searching for some hint of sarcasm or deception in her gaze, but find nothing. She can not have just said what you thought she said. In fact, you decide it would be a perfectly reasonable reaction to freak out.

So you do.