Fluttershy went inside her cabin, and looked in a trunk in her bedroom. She didn't find the maps there, and she looked in a kitchen junk drawer. Still no. Finally, she looked in the broom closet, and found the maps in a box.

She unrolled them on the dining table, and said,

"I help at the bird sanctuary in Whitetail Woods sometimes. This map has all of the marked trails through the woods. The Smokey Mountains are just past that. It's a much nicer place than Everfree."

Lightning perused the map. A mountain hike did sound like just the thing. It would be tough exercise, but a great way to clear her mind. There was one problem though. She asked,

"Say Fluttershy, if I'm reading the scale right, the woods are way too far to walk to. Does the train go there?"

"Yes, there is a station for the Whitetail wilderness area. Oh, but you have to tell the conductor to stop there. I usually take it because it's faster than flying for me."

"I'll need to buy some supplies then. I'll be heading out to town, want to come with?"

"I'm sorry, but I have some gardening work to do."

Lightning took her leave. She picked up her pack from Rarity, who thought that getting some alone time was a splendid idea. "But be careful darling," she said, "Don't be a stranger. Keep in touch."

It was a saddlebag pack, strapped across her back with pouches on each side, worn over her cloak. Most ponies carried something similar. A regular backpack wouldn't stay on a quadruped properly. As Rarity helped her cinch it on, Lightning had the eerie feeling that her left wing was still there, and hurting her.

Was this weird pain going to be another thing she had to deal with? She shook it off, thanked the white unicorn profusely for her generosity, and cantered into town to gather some wilderness supplies.

In a few days time, after more talks with Twilight and Fluttershy, she gathered her things and walked to the town station. Fluttershy went with her.

Lightning wore her cloak and new saddlebags, with a sleeping bag rolled-up and strapped on. Her old bags were given to Twilight.

The train would be arriving soon, according to the pegasus who worked the ticket counter. From time to time, this pegasus would fly down the line a ways to see how far off the train was.

They enjoyed the lazy spring weather. Sunbeams pleasantly warmed their feathery wings. Lightning had to fake a smile as they talked about woodland flowers and animals and the sights to see.

On her mind was the pegasus worker. Even such a simple task as flying for a short ways was impossible now. She was half a pegasus.

He would be oblivious to her concerns, of course, and that was fine. The cloak served its purpose. She didn't want to talk about things any more than she had to.

A clatter of steel and puffs of steam approached. The Equestria Express slowly rolled into the station. Passengers got off noisily as baggage was removed from the storage car. Lightning noticed an odd thing about the train, and said in an alarmed voice,

"That's an awfully small coal car! I hope it's enough fuel."

"Oh, don't worry," Fluttershy quietly replied, "Princess Celestia used magic on all of the trains to make them run more efficiently. They don't need very much coal now."

Lightning was impressed. She mentioned, "I bet that had a bad impact on mining towns."

"Oh my yes. The town of Dodge Junction is a ghost town now."

"Must be, can't say I've ever heard of it. They had a mine there?"

"I think they still do. It's south of Everfree, out in the desert. Miners and farmers live out there."

"Farmers in the desert?"

"It turns into plains at the southern hills."

"Maybe I could be a farmer. I do love gardening with you."

Lightning got up and approached the train. Fluttershy gave her a hug goodbye, and said, "I'll come visit you with more food and things, Lightning. Meet me at the station every two weeks. If I can't make it, I'll send a care package and a letter. Take care now!"

As Lightning leaned out the window, waving goodbye to Fluttershy, she smiled with a bright look in her eyes. This would be an adventure.

"Tickets, please. Ponyville to Vanhoover."

Lightning presented hers, and it was stamped.

The train steamed on into the sunset. Lightning made sure to let the workers know she wanted a stop at Whitetail Woods, and was informed that they wouldn't make it until morning.

She curled up on the bench within her cloak, and got some sleep.

After a breakfast in the dining car, Lightning got her saddlebags cinched on for the upcoming stop. They arrived at Whitetail Wilderness within the hour.

The station was a sturdy structure made of logs, with a tin roof. A few shrubs had grown through the boards of the platform, but it otherwise seemed maintained.

Lightning stepped down to the soft, quiet detritus of the forest floor. She stretched her right wing under her cloak, and gazed sadly at her left side. The rattle and grind of wheels on steel faded until she was enveloped in a serene and total quiet.

She sat, and looked around. It was very lovely here. Patches of warm sunlight shone through the forest canopy. Occasional birdsong filled the air. It would be beautiful, except that for Lightning, the nicest day was still a muddled gray fog in her mind. She knew it wasn't rational to be so down in such an uplifting place. Her private struggle wasn't a rational thing.

In spite of this feeling of emptiness and loss, she found the resolve to keep making progress. A mild wind rustled branches overhead.

So, I have lost my wing. I am never going to fly again. How can I never fly again? Why?

A glance up, at the shady canopy which imprisoned her. Never again. It echoed, rattling around in her mind. Two weeks ago, she could have burst through this green tent into the big sky above.

The ground below her hooves. She dug at it, scooping up a small mound of dirt and dead leaves. This would be her home for the remainder of her life. And she had to figure out what to do with that.

Lightning always preferred mountain summits for thinking through problems. She traveled north, following a trail away from the station. Trees and rocks marked with blue paint were alongside the path. In places, it was a wide, leafy, flat trail through the woods with many hoof marks. At other points, it crossed narrow bridges and cliff edges.

Only one other hiker passed by that day, saying hello to Lightning as he went.

As sunset was drawing to a close and darkness began to creep across the woods in long, lanky shadows, Lightning made camp at a riverbank. The river came to an oxbow here, and formed a deep pool. A short ways further on, it ran into a rocky slope and became rapids.

A ground pad and a sleeping bag were unrolled onto a clear space which had been swept of rocks and sticks. Lightning drank clear water that had never known chemical pollution. She ate wild grasses, and two apples from her pack.

Being a pony, she was perfectly capable of living off of grass and shrubbery. This was usually avoided, as the ponies had a nice society built up and preferred to cook something. Or at least dry the grass into different types of hay.

This wasn't society and this wasn't a place in life where Lightning cared about the type of food she ate. It was Whitetail Woods, and whatever could fill her belly and give her energy to hike was sufficient.

She pressed on for several more days at a moderate pace. Shrubbery, grass, and berries sustained her. At last, she reached the foothills of the Smokey Mountains. The trail became rugged and steep, swerving back and forth up cliffs. The deciduous trees gradually gave way to pine. Sudden valleys creased the land not far from the trail, posing a hazardous drop.

Lightning kept a good pace despite the terrain. Her heart was stronger than an earth-pony's, adapted to sustained flight. Now and for the first time, it helped her with a long hike.

The mountains rose higher and higher above her now as she drew near. She came to a branching path with a signpost, where the trail split in four ways.

East and west for the purple trail, which was a gentle forest walk. South went the way she came, through the forest, to the station and bird sanctuary. North was a trail marked with a warning sign, advising travelers to expect steep grades and harsh, rugged conditions.

Another look up at the mountains fading away into the sky. Maybe she couldn't fly now, but she could still get close to the place she most felt at peace. A mountain perch had always been her solace. If she had to climb to reach the summit this time, then so be it.

Grateful for her magically augmented cloak in the bitter cold mountain winds, she began her ascent.

At the summit of the trail, stone stairs climbed to a large boulder which had a wooden deck built onto it. Miles and miles of serpentine path weaved down the mountain behind her.

This was a commanding view. The forest sprawled out below like a painting, with lakes and fields here and there. Off in the distance, on another mountain, Lightning could see the vague outline of Canterlot Castle.

Lightning lie on the deck here on top of the world. She stared idly at the scenery below her. Not only did she know what it was like to fly from a perch like this, she could also feel it.

The rush of wind on takeoff as she floated out into empty space, relying on her wings to keep her aloft and safe from the emptiness between her and the ground. It felt very much like swimming out in clear water as the bottom drops out beneath you.

For tonight, she unrolled her sleeping bag here on the wooden deck. She had some trail mix and cold water from her canteen for dinner.

She spent two days camping on the mountain, only climbing down far enough to reach a cascade for water refills. She noticed infrequent fields down below in the valleys and by the lakes. Lonely place to be a farmer, out here in the woods and far from any town.

When she realized it would be quite impossible to fly down and visit these farms, she packed up and began the long hike back down the mountain, feeling defeated.

Farming, that was an idea. A pony had to eat. Maybe she could learn how to raise food. What about raising a family? Lightning had never considered that before, but she could see settling down.

As she reached the forest floor in a final, steep swoop of the trail, she leaned on the wooden railing beside the path to consider the terrain around her.

Using the sun for rough navigation, she left the trail and headed east. She kept track of landmarks and scraped bark off a few trees with her hoof to help find her way back. Since the trails bordered her in on the West and North, it would be hard to get lost if she just went straight back from here.

She reached a forest clearing. A stream flowed past here, and soft clover lined the hill around it. This would do.

Lightning built a lean-to out of branches and rope. She carefully placed pine branches down to make a floor for her sleeping bag, to help keep the bugs off. By the river bank, she dug into the ground with her hooves to make a firepit, which was then circled by rocks.

Night fell. The sky was a canvas of constellations. There was no light pollution here. It felt like falling as she stared into this abyss of tiny lights. What exactly were these stars? It cleared the worries on her mind to puzzle over the idea of objects out there like that.

When the air grew thin far above the cloud level and the color began to shift from blue to inky black, you had no choice but to turn back and descend. Even pegasi using a spell of some kind to provide air to breathe found it drastically cold and extremely difficult to fly that high.

Odd that there would still be things out there in the sky past where any creature could fly to. She wondered what it might be like on the moon or the sun as she crawled into her rough shelter. She dreamed of a cloud city floating out by the moon, and pegasi who lived there to reshape the moon from quarter to half as though it were a cloud.

The following days were spent with hiking, gathering firewood and food, and quiet reflection. When eleven days had passed, she packed up camp and began the hike back to the train station.

She reached it in the afternoon, and the train arrived that evening. Fluttershy stepped off onto the platform, and provided a hug and a package for Lightning.

"It's mostly more food for you, and a couple of books from Twilight," she said.

"Thank you, Fluttershy. It's nice out here, I'm not ready to leave just yet," Lightning responded.

They split ways. Lightning retreated back into the forest as Fluttershy went on to the next town where she could wait for a return train.

Lightning spent a half dozen moons in Whitetail Woods as a hermit. She made up her mind, and decided to give farming a try. It was time to visit the Apples.

She met Fluttershy at the station and joined her for a return trip to Ponyville.

Lightning now felt calmer, and she honestly had no need to rush things. There were two bags of coins for her in Fluttershy's cabin--her compensation pay. It was plenty to get by on for now.

The week was spent in the company of kind and caring friends. She visited Fluttershy, Rarity, and Pinkie Pie, and continued staying in the library. At the close of this week, she walked out to the edge of town towards the floral expanse of the apple orchard in bloom.

A sign next to a long wooden fence announced 'Welcome to Sweet Apple Acres'. Below that in smaller text it read, 'Ponyville founding family. Cider Season: 8 Moons".

This was as rustic and cozy a place as Lightning had ever seen. A dirt path and more finely-built wooden fences meandered back towards a barn and a house.

She reached the house, and knocked. A young filly answered the door.

"Hi, I'm looking for Applejack," said Lightning.

"She's out back gettin ready to plow the garden. You must be Lightning, good to meet ya! My name's Apple Bloom," replied the filly with a little curtsy.

Lightning was welcomed inside. Apple Bloom offered to take her cloak, but she preferred to keep it on. The house was clean, tidy, well-maintained, and comfortable.

They walked to the kitchen, where an elderly pony was busy with cooking and drying out some roots and bulbs on the counter.

When this wrinkly pony noticed Lightning she exclaimed, "Confound it you crazy zebra, I told ya I don't want ya in the house! Beg pardon, you ain't a zebra are you?"

"Uh, no, I'm just a pegasus. My name is Lightning Ridge. What's a zebra?"

"Trouble, that's what. Gets into alchemy and such. Liable to start a fire or make the table grow hair with her potions, I reckon. Now then, Lightning... think my granddaughter told me bout you."

"Could I visit Applejack, or is she too busy right now?" asked Lightning.

"She's out in our veggie garden, getting it all ready for planting. Ought to visit her, it's been several moons since she saw you last."

"I'll do that, miss..."

"Granny Smith. Just call me granny, everyone does."

Lightning made a move towards the back door, but she was blocked from leaving until she had several warm biscuits with apple butter. They were amazing.

Out back, Applejack was straining to plow furrows for the kitchen garden.

When Lightning called out to her, she waved and said to hold on a minute. When Applejack was done with her work, she asked for a bit of help getting unhitched from the plow.

"Phew, that work is always exhausting. Good thing it's only once a year," said Applejack.

Lightning spoke, "It's good to see you again Applejack, we didn't chat much when we first met. So you grow vegetables too?"

"This is just for the family, we sell apples."

"So, I wanted to ask. Could I work for you guys? I think I'll settle down and be a farmer."

"Aw shucks Lightnin', I can respect that and all but we don't keep employees. This is a family-run orchard."

"You don't have to pay me bits then. Just want the experience."

"Tell you what. If you want to help out on the farm, we can give you room and board. Sound good?"

"Sure, that sounds great! Long as your granny is okay with it." Lightning thought of that old pony's distrust of strangers.

"Don't you mind granny. She's a great pony, just, ya know, set in her ways. I'm sure she'll take a liking to you."

They all stepped into the house except for Applejack, who went to draw a bath as she was spattered with mud.

Granny got a guest room ready for Lightning, bringing in a stack of heavy bedding balanced on her back.

A sturdy draft pony lumbered through the front door. He said hi to Lightning and that his name was Big Mac, but didn't say much else. Applejack returned from her bath.

Lightning set her saddlebags and her cloak in her room. No one in the family bothered to stare or ask questions about her missing wing. She was treated only with hospitality. She expected a lot of hard, dirty work ahead.

"Alright," Lightning said, "what kind of work should I do first to earn my keep round here?"

Applejack replied, "Spring is the easy season. Now that we're approaching summer, it's time to start planting, pruning trees, and getting some work done so we have a good fall harvest."

The days passed quickly on the Apple's farm. Lightning was perpetually exhausted. All the farm chores were heavy, hard work. She had gotten better about balance though, even if she couldn't carry buckets of water slung across her back without sloshing some of it.

One evening, as they sat around the table for dinner and talk turned to the Everfree forest nearby, Lightning brought up being rescued by a griffon and if they had seen anything.

They all gave her a surprised look. Big Mac was the one to answer her question.