“Zecora!” Apple Bloom cried out as she opened the door, the frigid winter air rushing into her home. “We weren’t expecting you! Come on in.”

Zecora smiled and stepped inside. She shook the snow off of her back, stomping her hooves on the welcome mat. “It is good to see you, little one. This winter storm is not much fun.”

Apple Bloom giggled, then reached into a corner and picked up a small bag with her teeth. “You came for these, right? Your potion ingredients and stuff. We were all figuring you’d just come later ‘cause of the storm, but Applejack told me to get them all ready anyway.”

“These ingredients, I need them very soon. I cannot wait another moon.” Zecora took the offered sack and slipped it into her saddlebags.

“Must be important stuff,” Apple Bloom muttered, rubbing her chin. “Y’know, just because I got my cutie mark in crusading doesn't mean I'm not still interested in all that alchemy stuff. We should get together again sometime and study!”

There was a brief pause, punctuated by the howling of the blizzard outside before Apple Bloom coughed and added, “When the weather clears up, of course.”

Zecora chuckled, then ruffled Apple Bloom’s mane with a hoof. ”Just because you have your cutie mark does not mean your education should end. Come visit soon, that we may mix, stir, and blend.”

“Hurray!” Apple Bloom cheered, jumping up and down.

“I hate to ask, but this storm is quite dire,” Zecora said, glancing back towards the door and shivering. “May I rest for a time, and warm myself by your fire?”

Apple Bloom rolled her eyes. “Forget just the fire, we can all have a Hearth’s Warming dinner together! Hey, Applejack! We need another place at the table!”

Zecora raised a hoof to protest, but Apple Bloom was already out of sight, running through the house yelling for her sister. She sighed, shaking her head, then hung up her bag and made her way through the Apple Family Homestead.

The warmth of the home—the family that lived here—was immediately evident. The generations that grew up here lived on in every board, creak, and shudder of the building as the storm raged on. Zecora stopped by the fire, feeling the chill ebb out of her flank. She glanced at the photos adorning the mantelpiece.

Many of the pictures were of scenes familiar to Zecora, but there were more than a few ponies in them she’d never had the pleasure of meeting. The story of the Apple family went back for hundreds of years. In some ways, she wished she could have known those that came before.

“That one there is my great grandpappy Apple Stout,” Applejack said walking up behind Zecora and pointing at one of the pictures. “They said he was as strong as any ten stallions, and could buck an entire field clear just by stomping the ground. It was actually a right mess of a problem, because he was plum terrible at gathering up all the apples afterwards.” With a grunt, Applejack turned and grabbed a steaming mug from a nearby tray. “Cider?”

Zecora grabbed the offered glass and took a careful sip, the hot liquid a welcome warmth that spread through her chest. “Days gone by, and tales quite old. They makes for good stories, when taking shelter from the cold.”

Applejack chuckled. “I hear that.” She raised her own mug in a brief salute, took a sip, then sat down next to Zecora. “So what about you? There any family you ever get a chance to spend Hearth’s Warming with?”

Zecora thought about it for a moment, then shook her head, smiling softly. “Hearth’s Warming traditions are unknown to my kind. We also lack your terrible winters; though that, I do not mind. But this spirit of togetherness that you ponies all share—I wish I could bring it to my home, that I swear. Right now the savannah is baked in the sun, where zebras run wild and frolick in fun. But when your harshest of winters force you inside, you stop and look back on your family with pride. This warmth and reflection is something zebras often lack. It is one of the many reasons I am so far off track.”

Applejack blinked, then frowned, rubbing her chin with a hoof as she parsed Zecora’s rhymes. Finally, she nodded, wrapping a hoof around Zecora’s shoulder and giving a light squeeze. “Shoot, every family’s got their own thing going on, and everypony shows how they love each other in a different way. Just know that you’re always welcome in our home, Zecora, whether it’s for the holidays, or just whenever.”

There was a loud crash from upstairs, a brief pause, then Apple Bloom shouting, “I’m okay!”

They both laughed. Applejack slapped Zecora on the back, then stood up. “She looks up to you a bunch, y’know. Treat her right.”

“Apple Bloom still has much to learn. But so do I, I think, in turn.”

“Figure that’s true enough for most of us.” Applejack paused in the doorway to the kitchen, then glanced back. “Dinner’s just about ready, so make yourself comfortable until then.”

Zecora nodded, then made her way back over to the fireplace, where she stared into those flickering embers. She could see herself dancing amongst the flames, a young zebra filly, eyes wide, full of wonder and naivety and endless curiosity for the wide wonders of the world. She’d journeyed to lands unknown, seen things, and met ponies in ways that most of her brethren had never done.

The circumstances under which she had left still stung, a wound in her heart that might never fully heal. She missed them, even now, and wondered what her family was doing at this moment. Were they thinking about her right now?

But all of that was in the past now. Zecora was in Equestria. And this land, where she was, right here and now.

This was home.

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