“Come on, Apple Bloom!” The words escaped from Applejack’s mouth in frost-kissed gasps. “We gotta pick up the pace if we’re goin’ to get back to Sugar Belle’s bakery in time.”

Apple Bloom muttered under her breath as she waddled behind her sister down Ponyville's snow-packed main square. If she hadn’t already been in a bad mood, her costume’s constant attempts at tripping her up would have soon put her in one. Brushing red strands of windswept mane from her eyes, she glared up at the darkening sky.

“If it’s so important us bein’ there to help then we could have jus’ not gone back for the star.”

“What, and leave it behind?” Applejack threw her a quick glance before dodging around a group of carol singers crossing the road. Her expression had been half-amused, half-chastising, and it managed to make Apple Bloom feel even more irritated. “Jus’ what kind of Hearth’s Warming tree goes without a star?”

Apple Bloom stretched her head forward so that the thick green needles of tinsel making up her costume weren’t scratching her cheeks anymore.

Just everywhere else.

She sidestepped the same group of carol singers, and the fake stump hanging around her barrel bumped against her legs. It almost sent her tumbling muzzle-first to the ground, and Apple Bloom felt heat rise to her cheeks as the decorations she wore jingled mockingly.

“I’m jus’ sayin’,” she replied, avoiding the amused glances of the ponies nearby. “We could have left it all behind.”

Applejack paused in the street, allowing Apple Bloom to catch up with her. She adjusted a couple of the baubles on the costume before raising a hoof in remonstration. “Tradition is tradition, Sis,” she said, her warm breath coiling against the chill air like an exclamation. “’Sides, if you didn’t want to spend Hearth’s Warming Eve dressed as a tree, you shouldn’t have picked Ol’ Sourbranches as your playin’ piece for Settles of Sweet Apple Acres earlier. Ain’t nopony ever won a game using him.”

Apple Bloom glared at the horizon, where the star-studded void battled against swirls of pink and yellow and amber. It was a sky that promised to bring with it magic and wishes and the creation of wonderful memories, and the sight of it released a swarm of sharp-winged butterflies inside her stomach.

“I know,” she said, turning her head against that promise. “And for the record, I didn’t pick him—You all picked the other pieces while I was still wrappin’ my presents!”

Applejack’s laugh was rich and hearty. And oblivious. Apple Bloom scuffed a hoof against the frost-nipped ground. It wasn’t even like the costume was the problem anyway, not really. In fact, in the right circumstances, she’d probably be enjoying wearing it. But these weren’t the right circumstances, and it was so annoying that Applejack seemed unable to realise it.

She swished her tail as she continued down the main street, the distant sound of laughter and music coming more into focus with every step.

No, the costume wasn’t the problem at all. It was Sugarcube Corner.

The first time they had walked past, Apple Bloom had kept her eyes fixed on the street between her hooves. This time though, she tried to face it down with all the pride and stubbornness she could muster. And, for a few moments, it almost felt enough.

Just like every year, Sugarcube Corner was a colour-soaked riot of decorations, twinkling lights and tinsel fluttering in the breeze. And, just like every year, the sound of colts and fillies enjoying the special festive party oozed from the building. The annual event had been the talk of the holidays for schoolponies for as long as Apple Bloom could remember; a couple of hours where friendships blossomed and rivalries were put out to pasture, and where lasting memories were made.

Or, at least, that’s what Apple Bloom assumed. Because, just like every year, she wasn’t going to be there.

She tried not to grimace as her eyes tracked across the windows of the building, and thought about how best to buck those negative thoughts from right out her head. Deep down, she knew it shouldn’t bother her, not really. She’d be seeing Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle later at Princess Twilight’s party, once the Apples had finished up with Sugar Belle’s new contribution to the long list of family traditions, and they’d be able to fill her in on any gossip. Just like every year, it would almost feel as though she had been there herself.

The tremble in her stomach increased, and Apple Bloom slowed her pace. She knew it shouldn’t bother her, but it did.

Applejack, as though—finally—sensing that something was wrong, stopped beside the building and turned round. Her green eyes were almost muted by the warm light flooding from the windows of Sugarcube Corner, but Apple Bloom was sure she caught the shadow of something in them.

“You doin’ alright there, Lil’ tree?”

The recognition of an opportunity fluttered up Apple Bloom’s throat and forced her mouth open. She stood like that for a few moments, before closing it again. She was frustrated, sure, but she didn’t want to upset Applejack and the others. Tradition meant a lot to them all—it meant a lot to her, too.

A couple of ponies—good friends by the look of them—trotted down the road, jostling each other as they laughed about some indecipherable event that had just happened. The sight of them made Apple Bloom’s coat prickle; she could suddenly recall every single first day back at school after the holidays, as though those dispiriting memories were fighting to escape the place she had buried them.

“Can we… stop for a drink? At Sugarcube Corner, I mean.”

For once, maybe I could have a tradition too.

Applejack blinked. “Right now?” She looked from Apple Bloom to Sugarcube Corner, and peered in through the window. “Pinkie and the Cakes’ Hearth's Warming Eve party, eh? Sure looks like quite the ruckus in there.”

Apple Bloom felt an almost painful yearning within her body, as though being this close to something she really wanted was actually somehow harmful. “I know we’re in a hurry,” she replied, trying to keep the flow of words steady, “but all of my friends are gonna be in there, and it sure would be nice to see ‘em before Hearth’s Warming.”

“Didn’t you see them jus’ this mornin’ though?”

“Only Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo!” Apple Bloom’s decorations jingled as she shook her head. She tried to ignore the feeling of her heart pounding against her chest.

I just want a tradition to call my own.

Applejack rubbed her cheek with a snow-dusted hoof. “I dunno, Apple Bloom. We’re in a real hurry as it is. I wish I could say yes, but I don’t reckon we have the time.”

Apple Bloom opened her mouth, but couldn't get the right words to come out. She just stood there instead, blinking snowflakes from her eyes and feeling her desires become smothered under the weight of tradition until it felt like her lungs were about to stop working.

“No, you’re right, we don’t have the time,” she managed eventually, stamping a hoof against the ground. “There’s always a reason why we don’t have the time for something I wanna do, and it’s always because we’re having to do what every other Apple has done already!”

“Whoa there!” Applejack stepped out from the puddling light of the Corner, and her eyes regained some of their natural roughness. “That ain’t true and you know it.”

“But it is true!” Apple Bloom shook her head, and the motion caused a small ceramic apple to fall from her costume. She looked down at it, half-buried in the snow. “Look at today! We wasted hours hidin’ round the farm wearin’ those dumb fake pigs ears.”

“That was a celebration!” Applejack dipped her head to pluck the decoration from the snow, gently returning it to its rightful place on the costume. “Ever since the year Big Mac left the gate to the pig pen open on Hearth’s Warming Eve, we’ve always celebrated the night we spent tryin’ to round them all up again.”

“I know that!” Apple Bloom squeaked. Why couldn’t Applejack see how much this was bothering her? Weren’t big sisters supposed to sense these things? “But it takes so long! And then we have to do that thing from back when Granny wrapped her teeth up with a present by mistake.”

“Exactly,” Applejack said with a chuckle. “Findin’ which present Granny has hidden her teeth in every year is great fun. Painful, if you ain’t careful, but fun.”

Despite her mood, a laugh escaped Apple Bloom’s lips. “Yeah, except this year it took her hours to find her teeth before she could hide them.” She lowered her flank to the ground, the coolness of the snow dousing her frustrations further. “It wouldn’t bother me so much if it wasn’t… I mean… What ’bout me?”

Applejack frowned. “Now what do you mean by that, Lil’ tree?”

“I mean, what about my traditions?” Apple Bloom’s voice felt as brittle as the ice. “Even Sugar Belle has got us doin’ hers already—you know, deliverin’ cakes and stuff to the hospital. I’m not sayin’ it’s not an amazin’ thing to do,” her eyes found Applejack’s, “but what about me?”

Warm air snaked from Applejack’s muzzle as she snorted. “What are you talkin’ about? Why, you’ve got plenty of traditions.”

“But they’re not mine, they’re yours!” A tremble ran up Apple Bloom’s legs, and she couldn’t tell if it was from her frustration or the cold. “You all started each of those things; I just take part every year.”

Applejack was quiet for a moment, her eyes seeming to look right through Apple Bloom. Then she moved to sit down next to her, a foreleg draped around the bulky costume.

“You want to start a tradition?”

Apple Bloom swallowed. It felt funny, now that Applejack had actually said it. She scuffed a hoof through the snow, watching it sparkle under the lights as it was disturbed.

“Yeah. Something like… Being able to go to this party with my friends, even for a little while, and share hot chocolate and—” she swallowed “—um, gossip?”

Applejack looked as though she was about to interrupt, and panic spurred Apple Bloom on.

“I mean, you always talk about your friends being part of the family, and it’s the same for me. I want to be able to do this tradition thing with my friends too, and to maybe be a part of theirs.”

Applejack opened her mouth, and then closed it. Apple Bloom wasn’t sure if it was just the blinking lights and shadows playing tricks with her eyes, but her sister seemed to look smaller, somehow. Her eyes moved from Apple Bloom to Sugarcube Corner, and then back again.

“I guess I need to remember that you’re not such a little tree anymore, huh?” Leaning in first to nuzzle her, Applejack climbed to her hooves, inhaling deep as her eyes moved in the direction of Sugar Belle’s bakery. “I reckon that sounds like a mighty fine tradition for your first. You got anything against your big sis’ bein’ a part of it this one time?”

Apple Bloom found herself blinking as she processed Applejack’s words. Then, with a jubilant giggle, she threw her forelegs around her sister as best as her costume allowed. “Of course I wouldn't!” she gasped. “But what about Sugar Belle, Big Mac and the others?”

She felt a flutter in her heart as she asked the question. But it meant far too much for her to not be absolutely sure.

Applejack looked down and smiled. “I reckon we can count on the rest of them to start that particular tradition, huh?”

“Yes!” Another couple of decorations fell from their perches as Apple Bloom hugged her tighter, but she didn’t care in the slightest. “Thanks, Sis’.”

Dipping her head to pick up one of the fallen ornaments, Applejack chuckled as she replaced it. “‘Course, this tradition of yours does mean that you’re gonna have to wear this costume every year, even if you don’t lose the game.”

Apple Bloom looked down at herself, before giggling. “I reckon I can live with that.”