“What are we doing this time?” Doug asks as he and Applejack walk outside. “Plowing? Planting?” His tone gains a slightly hopeful tinge. “Watering?”

Applejack snorts at the last one. “Got some irrigation ditches dug around the farm, so don’t have to worry too much about water. Big Mac already plowed the field, so we just need to plant the seeds. Ain’t hard, just tedious.” She leads the way to the front gate and the cart she took to Ponyville earlier. Applejack glances back, catching a glimpse of the green mare through one of the farmhouse windows. She gulps, picking the pace up a little, Doug easily staying with her.

Gotta treat him like Ah would Caramel. “Alright, Doug, you’ll be pullin’ the cart. Once we get there, evenly space the bags out along the rows. You ever grown wheat before?”

“Nope.” Doug looks around for any farm equipment. He can’t see any machinery, or even tools, for that matter. “We doing this by hand?”

“Hand?” Applejack asks, her face scrunching up. She holds up a hoof when Doug lifts a hand and waggles it around. Arms and hands. “By hoof, yes. It’s how we Apples have done it for generations, and Ah ain’t about to start changin’ things.” She glances back towards the farmhouse, hiding her grimace.

“Got it.” Doug stares at the mess of straps attached to the cart. The more he looks at it the more it makes sense, with some designed to cross the pony’s chest, and others to keep slack from twisting up the lines. In the middle of debating whether it would be easier to try to hook himself up to them or just ignore them he notices Applejack cantering away. He shouts, “Wait!”

“What?” Applejack says as she turns around.

“Where am I going?” Doug asks, his hands full of straps.

“The south fields.” Applejack points a hoof to the south. “We went over this, remember?”

“...I guess we did,” Doug says, slightly embarrassed. “Um, any field in particular?”

Applejack briefly considers. “The westernmost one.”

Doug nods. “Furthest right, got it.”

“Ah’ll be finishin’ up a bit of the apple harvesting, gettin’ Granny a full load to sort. Ah should be caught up with ya by the time you’re startin’.” Applejack hooks herself up to a smaller cart at the shed before cantering off to the northeast.

“South towards the big, scary forest,” Doug says to himself as he drags the cart along the dirt road. Apple orchards block his view of anything in particular, and a lot of these trees are missing blossoms or fruit entirely. He’ll occasionally see a glimpse of movement or hear a bird chirp, but the half mile walk mostly passes in silence. How would she say it; three fourths a klick? No, stick.

The road branches off in three directions: left, right, and straight. Doug stops, considering. Well, if I was navigating a maze, I’d take the right path every time. But this place seems like it’s built on a grid, so I guess I just keep going south? Hopefully it’s obvious before I hit the Everfree.

Doug breaks out of the orchards, a wide open field of broken dirt in front of him. It looks barren to his untrained eye. To the south, past a line of train tracks, is a forest. Compared to the regularly spaced apple trees it looks overgrown and twisted. Okay, that’s probably the Everfree. Now, is this the correct field? He looks right and left, spotting what seems to be two more fields in each direction. West it is. He turns to the right, his arms starting to cramp up. This would be easier to push, but I’d have trouble steering. He sighs at the small, sharp rocks digging into his feet. With hooves they probably don’t even notice. I need to ask about boots, or maybe I’ll just get some amazing callouses. At least the weather’s nice enough that I’m not missing having one of those curtains.

The next field he passes is full of short tufts of green sprouts, irregularly spaced. I’ll have to ask what kinds, but it would be nice to have some greens in my diet. Like spinach. Apples are great, but I’ll need to get a bit of balance. And meat. Speaking of…

Dozens of little white and brown heads peer up from the larger clusters of green. Rabbits. Damn vermin. I wonder if Applejack knows. They barely react to his presence as he drags the cart along, steadily munching on the closest crops. He drops down, grabbing one of the small rocks and flinging it at them. The closest rabbits scatter, diving into the nearest ditch. The rest seem entirely nonplussed at the ordeal.

“Whatever.” Doug shrugs to himself as he continues on, his arms starting to burn as he reaches the westernmost field. Rows are cut into the ground, piles of dirt to the sides, and it stretches on and on. Well, this looks like the end of the line. Hopefully I can do better than that Caramel fellow. He moves around to the back of the cart, the first of the ten-C bags lifting off easily. Feels like twenty five pounds. What is a ‘C’? Is that like a kilogram? It feels like a kilogram. He inspects the packaging, but it gives no more hints. It barely even qualifies as a label, just stating that it contains ten ‘C’ worth of wheat seeds ready for planting, and that they aren’t ‘enhanced’. And it has a picture of a wheat seed superimposed over a field of wheat plants.

He drops the first bag along the side, dreading having to walk all the way to the far end and back. Well, maybe we’ll start on the far end and work our way back. That wouldn’t be so bad, right? He grunts as he pulls the cart along, the constant starts and stops getting to him. Only about a hundred yards, square. That’s, what, two and a half acres?

By the time he gets to the end he spots a familiar orange mare cantering along a road from the north. I guess there is a way to get here without cutting through the fields. That would have been nice to know. But, what if that wasn’t Applejack coming right for me, and instead one of those Everfree monsters? Could I do anything but run away and hide in the trees? I don’t like that plan.

“Howdy,” Applejack says cheerfully as she draws close. She’s wearing a set of saddlebags with a pouch of sorts across her chest, wide enough for a hoof to fit inside and open to the top. “Got everything in the right place, Ah see.”

“I hope so,” Doug says, smiling back.

Applejack moves up to the first bag of seeds and tears it open with her mouth. She spits out the bits stuck to her tongue, then starting loading the saddlebag on one side with seeds. She grins when Doug comes over and helps pour the remainder of the bag. A short backtrack later and he returns with a second bag, filling the other side. She motions to the field. “Ready to get started?”

“Um, sure,” Doug says, looking around. “What exactly am I doing?”

“Helpin’ plant. Here, take this.” Applejack reaches into the pouch, grabbing a pair of seeds. Doug holds his hand open, and she carefully places one in his hand. Her hoof touches his, closing his hand around the seed and rests there. “Feel that?” she asks, grinning at the contact. Not only with him, but at the seed and the life waiting inside. She wills it forward, elation spreading inside her as the seed follows her command. It isn’t as strong as when she works with apples, or as perfect, but she loves the feeling nonetheless.

Doug feels his pulse quicken at the contact. “I feel you,” he says with a bit of a blush, “but I’m not sure what else.”

“Ya can’t feel the seed?” Applejack frowns, opening her hoof. The seed she kept has a small green sprout poking out, growing larger with every passing moment, while Doug’s stays still. “Oh. Ah was afraid of that.”

“Afraid that I can’t get plants to sprout in my hand?” Doug says, chuckling to himself to hide his glumness. “I could have told you that. I’m not special.”

“Don’t sell yourself too short, partner,” Applejack says, using a scoop to fill the pouch in front of her from her saddlebags. It’s still odd for Doug how she can contort her body to do so. She starts on the first row. “Takes someponies longer’n others to find their special talent.”

“Special talent?” Doug asks, confused again.

Applejack motions to the three apples on her flank, then points at the dirt along the rows. “Fill in the dirt after me. Ah can’t talk, gotta concentrate.”

“Also, I’m not a pony,” Doug says as he follows after her. Applejack merely grunts, continuing along. She develops a rhythm, pulling a group of seeds from the pouch, dropping them into a row with a bit of dirt, and then moving along. “Do you have a shovel?”

“Just use your hooves,” Applejack says, annoyed at the interruption.

Doug sighs, pushing the rest of the dirt into the row with his hands. He watches Applejack, admiring the efficient motions, a part of him hoping for another free show. Her thick tail covers her, much to his disappointment.

Doug settles into his own rhythm, alternating between stooping over and using his hands to pull the dirt in, and pushing with his feet. Two hours of backbreaking labor later, nearly the entirety in silence, and Doug flops onto the ground. At least the field is completed.

“Done already?” Applejack asks chipperly, settling down next to him.

“I never want to work on a wheat field again,” Doug says, groaning. “Maybe if I had some tools, it would go better.”

“Well, maybe if’n you’re lookin’ to hire on for more’n a day, we can work somethin’ out.” Applejack sighs. “Kinda short on bits, though.”

“You were saying something to Granny about getting paid,” Doug says, hands reaching to his legs and trying to work out some of the exhaustion. He doesn’t even care how it rolls his body, and Applejack doesn’t seem to mind, either. “Maybe just IOUs, three square meals.” He shudders as he recalls Rainbow Dash raining on him. “Warm bed would be nice.”

Applejack nods along. “Well, Ah saw how much ya liked the apples, so Ah figured Ah’d let ya try a bit of this.” Applejack reaches to her saddlebags, pulling out a bottle of dark orange liquid. She smiles at Doug’s hesitation. “Don’t worry, partner, it’s too early in the day for the hard stuff.”

Doug takes the bottle, popping the top off and greedily guzzling the liquid.

“Never seen a pony take a likin’ to plain ‘ole apple juice so quickly.” Applejack smiles, taking the empty bottle.

Doug burps, covering his mouth with a hand. “What’s that your Granny said about not calling apples plain?”

“Oh, shush, you.” Applejack gets up, flicking her mane to the side, eyes sparkling. Her voice takes a slightly offended tone. “And here Ah thought about offerin’ to take the cart back, but if that’s how ya wanna be…”

“Dragged the cart through the fields, I can drag it back,” Doug says, motioning to the east and slowly getting to his feet. The apple juice is helping a lot, and with only empty bags in the cart it shouldn’t be that bad. “Did you know you have a bunch of rabbits eating your crops?”

Applejack scowls, but nods. “As long as they’re on that field, it’s okay. Animals gotta have somethin’ to eat, ya know? They should know better than to eat anywhere else, but if ya see ‘em off-field just yell at ‘em, tell ‘em to go back.” She starts walking through the fields, waving at the various critters to the south.

“Tell them to go back?” Doug says with a hint of disbelief. He grabs the cart, legs complaining as he follows her. “They’d understand me?”

“They should,” Applejack says, “but on occasion Ah need to ask Fluttershy over to give a talkin’ to ‘em.” Her eyes narrow slightly. “Ah shouldn’t need to tell ya, but no huntin’ anythin’ that listens to ya.”

“You can talk to animals,” Doug says, dumbfounded.

“Well, sorta. Everycreature understands Equish, at least the ones we’re used to dealin’ with.” Applejack glances to the Everfree, shuddering. “Long as you're usin' simple words, ya should be fine. They get by with gestures and mimin’ things. Ah got a nice picture book back at the house, should they need to say somethin’ more complex.”

“And Fluttershy is… special?” Doug glances back to Ponyville. What other abilities do they have?

Applejack snorts, “Careful how ya use that word; everypony’s got their talents, and hers is understandin’ animals and communicatin’ with ‘em. Ponies’ll think you’re talkin’ about her flyin’, and they won’t take kindly to it.”

“Got it,” Doug says, watching the ditch where the rabbits ran to earlier. He can’t tell if any of them are mad at him. “Hey, is that…”

Applejack looks where Doug is pointing, then back at the wheat field they just finished planting. “Are ya foalin’ me…” she spits out, turning off the field and into the ditch. Concealed against the dirt are a dozen bags with faded pictures of wheat fields. “Eeyup. Well, at least we figured out where Caramel lost the seeds.”

“So, what do we do?” Doug asks, helping her lift the dirtied bags of seeds into the cart.

“Well, Ah guess we can return the seeds to Filthy Rich.” Applejack looks Doug over. “How do ya feel about doin’ that?”

“Applejack,” Doug says, scowling, “those ponies ran me out of town the last time I was there. I don’t think they’d take too kindly for me coming back.”

“Oh, shucks, it was just a misunderstandin’, Ah’m sure.” Applejack smiles confidently. “Just tell anypony who asks that you’re workin’ at Sweet Apple Acres.”

“Really?” Doug says reluctantly, not at all on board. “You sure?”

“Sure as sugar are, partner.” Applejack stands on her hind legs, forelegs helping steady herself against Doug. She reaches up, only able to reach his nose when he gives in and bends over. She nuzzles him, smiling at the contact. “Tell ya what. You take those bags back, use the bits to get what ya need to work on the farm. We can make a lot of stuff here, though, like shovels and whatnot.”

“You able to make boots?” Doug asks, motioning to his feet with one hand while the other holds onto Applejack.

“Boots?” Applejack asks, confused. She raises a hoof. “Ya mean shoes?”

Doug glances at the iron-shod hoof. How did I not notice those before? “Um, sort of? I'd prefer something softer, but still sturdy.”

“Oh. Hmm. Well, you’ll return the bags to Filthy Rich. He’s at Barnyard Bargains. Purple sign out front, big store. Boots you can get at Carousel Boutique.” She glances down at his feet. “Are ya sure you need boots?”

“They’d help a lot,” Doug says, a resigned sigh. “Alright, I’ll give it a chance.”

“Thanks, partner,” Applejack says, nuzzling Doug again. “Ah’d hate to lose even more time harvestin’ than Ah need to.”

“Yeah,” Doug says, taking a deep breath. Back to Ponyville.

Next Chapter: Ch. 11 - Bitterbind Point Estimated time remaining: 15 Hours, 15 Minutes