Warm was the autumn breeze as it swam through Twilight's mane, refreshingly stark against the cool shade of the overhanging apple tree's shade. She took another small bite of one of the many miniature sandwiches that she and Spike had packed, trying to ignore the fact that nearly half of them were already gone thanks to a ravenous Rainbow Dash, whose mouth was still nearly cram packed with them.

“Think if I have another I'll get a little rounder?” Applejack patted her growing stomach with a grin, the roundness to it constantly making Twilight want to stare, which was harder to do than she anticipated.

“Maybe,” Spike swallowed and nodded. “Unless it turns out to be, like, a giant tapeworm instead of a colt or filly.”

“Spike,” Rainbow Dash choked, but Applejack seemed bemused.

“Nah, I'm pretty darned sure it's a foal,” she was quick to respond, her glowing smile reflected in the faces of her friends. “I'm not too shabby at double checkin', you know.”

“I can't wait until it gets here...” Fluttershy said almost breathlessly, for once peeking out from behind her curtain of pink mane. “I'm so excited, I just love foals. They're just so adorable, and tiny...”

“Not to mention messy,” Rarity interjected pointedly. “I've cleaned up enough filly vomit to know that foals can be absolutely disgusting.”

Applejack snorted, though Rarity seemed not to hear it.

“... Although she is right,” the unicorn nodded a moment later, taking a distracted and dainty bite from her own sandwich. “They are adorable.”

“When you're not cleaning up their barf, you mean,” Rainbow chuckled. Rarity shuddered at the mere thought.

“Have you settled on a name yet?” Twilight eyed the farm mare's stomach, an odd twinge of what might have been jealousy quickly doused.

“Nah, not quite,” she shook her head and wiped her mouth with the napkins (provided by Rarity, complete with little initials on each one). “Me an' Mac haven't thought up a good one that we can both agree on, aside from not naming 'em junior. We've been brainstormin' though.” Applejack covered her mouth with her napkin, brows furrowed deeply as she muttered something extremely unladylike about deadbeats and parents.

“Well, whatever it is, whether it winds up being a colt or a filly, I'm sure that you're bound to come up with something,” Rarity quietly put down her sandwich, which had hardly been touched before it was stealthily swept up by a reptilian tongue. Spike patted his own belly and let out a belch, making Twilight's eye twitch a little.

“Yeah, you've got a point...” the look slowly faded from Applejack's face as she nodded. “Who knows, it might just turn out to be both.”

“The statistics of having twins is roughly one in one thousand,” Twilight chortled aloud. “But like you said, who knows? I'd be more than happy to help foalsit if you ever need me to.”

“Much obliged,” she beamed back at her. “I'll make sure t'let somepony else do all the hard work for once.”

“Ugh” Rarity exclaimed, with an expression to match. “No, darling, absolutely not. I have seen the 'brainwave pattern scanner' and other little toys of Twilight's; sorry, dear, nothing personal, but I just can't imagine Twi not putting some poor foals through rigorous testing.”

“Hey! I wouldn't... well, no, she's actually right,” Twilight agreed after a moment, which for some reason got a laugh out of Applejack, which for some reason gave her that little nudge of jealousy again, though she couldn't fathom why.

Foals were a pain to take care of, Rarity said it herself.

Twilight tossed and turned in bed, struggling to make herself comfortable. The little pool of moonlight swimming in through her window and laying across her bed like a glowing blanket revealed her covering her eyes and releasing a long sigh as her mind continued to disobey, running rampant at every thought.

Twilight rolled onto her side away from the uncovered window, squeezing her eyes a little and listening to the low, slow sound of Spike's quiet little snores. Why was this bothering her so much? She had practically already raised a foal herself; she had Spike after all. Then again, she also had the help of her parents and even the princess herself from very rare time to time. Spike was more like a little brother to her than anything.

She found herself rolling about this way and that again and again. It was illogical. To even have foals of her own she'd need a genetic donor, not to mention the social stigma of having a coltfriend, as well as all the long months of waiting for her organic bun to heat in her oven. It was more of a hassle than anything else; what she should be feeling was empathy for Applejack, as it was clear that it wasn't easy for her to move much with her swollen stomach, and the mare wasn't taking anypony's advice on working a little less around the farm. It was all such a big bother, it was no wonder a pregnant mare was a sight to see in Ponyville. It would be so much easier if you could just clap your hooves and have a pre-made pony ready to go. But of course, things were never that simple. The best things only rarely were. One couldn't just make a pony.

Twilight sat bolt upright in bed, mind abuzz.

“Who says you can't just make your own foal...?” Twilight scrambled out of bed quietly so as no to wake Spike. Her friends? Society? Logic?

A brilliant spark began shining in her head as she eagerly made her way down to her basement turned laboratory, manic grin overtaking her at last as she began to work.

Tonight she would test her theory against all those things at once.

Tonight, she was going to have a foal.