Applejack and Doug arrive at the pigpen, one pig asleep in the sack while the other three plod along behind. The bird circles overhead, occasionally chirping. The two exchange wary looks as Applejack steps up to the gate, neither wanting a repeat performance, before Applejack gulps and reaches a hoof forward.

“What are you doing?” Doug demands. He adjusts the sack as he reaches the fence.

“What does it look like Ah’m doin’?” Applejack retorts, her hoof stopping on the gate. She scowls at the impending creak sure to send the pigs scurrying. “They gotta get used to it somehow.”

“Or,” Doug says as he lifts the sack and unceremoniously drops it inside the pigpen, “we can do that.”

“Hey!” Applejack objects. The sack stirs slightly, then goes still but for occasional breaths.

“He’s fine,” Doug says, unconcerned. Applejack glances between Doug and the sack, a worried rumble in her throat. He squats down, motioning for the rest of the pigs to approach. They’re too fat to squeeze through the railings, and while digging under would be easy to do he doesn’t want to give them any ideas. The first of the shoats steps up with a series of ‘groinks’, and Doug grunts as he hauls her over the fence.

She drops on the other side and scurries around the pen with a happy series of quick laughs. She quickly finds the water trough, imbibing deeply before splashing some out into a small mud pile next to the larger mud pile Doug already made.

“See?” Doug says as he lifts the next pig and tosses her over the fence. She drops with a meaty thud and heads straight for the larger mud pile, diving straight in. The last one plops down next to the sack, half-on and half-off her brother, and promptly goes to sleep. “They’re good.”

Applejack grunts, unamused.

Doug shouts a little louder, “Food’ll be around shortly, once we get the rest of you in here. Now stay put!”

“Ya gonna treat our foals like that, too?” Applejack snaps as the pigs mostly ignore him. The two trot north, following the chirping bird.

“Yeah, probably,” Doug says with a shrug.

“What?!” Applejack exclaims. She turns her head to stare up at Doug and figure out if he’s joking, but his slight smile makes her think not. “But they’re just foals!”

“Wait; do you mean play with them and toss them around, or shut them in a pen and leave them to their own devices?” Doug frowns at the latter. “I figure I’ll be doing lots of physical stuff, roughhousing, that sort of thing.”

“But what if they get hurt?” Applejack demands protectively. “These are your foals we’re talkin’ about!”

“Then they get hurt,” Doug states matter-of-factly. His eyes narrow. “And us humans are pretty resilient. We learn from it, and they’ll figure out what their boundaries are, and what we need to work to overcome.” Doug glances over as Applejack glowers. “Did you get hurt growing up?” Doug retorts, a bit of harshness creeping into his voice. “Because it’s going to happen.”

“Of course it is,” Applejack growls, “if you’re goin’ round tossin’ foals to the floor!”

“Is that what you think I’d do?” Doug motions to her pregnant belly, “Just, take my newborn foal and fling her through the air the moment she’s born?” He shakes his head resolutely. “I’m not Pinkie Pie levels of crazy.”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” Applejack snaps out.

Doug takes a deep breath, his hands balling into fists. He takes a moment to uncurl them. “You’re right. She’s not that bad. Though, back home dealing with horses, I heard their foals are able to walk hours after they’re born.” Applejack cringes slightly. Doug doesn’t notice; he chuckles darkly as he continues, “For all I know, the first thing Rainbow Dash is going to do is take her foal and chuck her from the top of a cloud and see how well she flies.”

“Doug!” Applejack shouts. “She wouldn’t do that!”

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” Doug says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I was thinking of when they’d be a little older. I mean, those pigs are, what, six weeks old? And they’re already fifty pounds.”

“Fifty what?” Applejack asks. She finds it hard to stay mad at their jogging pace, much of her aggression dissipating with every thud of hoof on ground.

“Twenty C,” Doug says with a roll of his eyes. “And they’ll be adults in less than a year. Then, three months later, we'll have even more piglets. Do ponies grow that fast, too?”

“Nah,” Applejack says, her mind boggling at the potential number of pigs they could have in the near future. “They grow pretty quick until they’re fillies at two; they’ll get a little bigger than those pigs. Then once they get their cutie mark at maybe four or five they hit another growth spurt. Technically they’re adults as soon as they get their cutie mark, and all that entails, but most’ll stick around home until they have a steady job and start or join a herd.”

The two stop talking as the largest of the Apple swimming holes comes into view. Granny Smith pushes a wooden crate towards the water’s edge, interminably slow. Fluttershy hovers above the pond and the floundering sow thrashing about in the center. Every time Fluttershy tries to lead her away she squeals in terror, her frantic splashing at times dunking her head completely underwater.

“What’s going on?” Applejack shouts to Granny Smith as she and Doug approach.

Granny Smith turns from the shore and motions at the pig. “Ain’t it obvious?”

“Uh,” Applejack says, perplexed. “Ah thought pigs’re decent swimmers.”

“And they’re fat,” Doug adds. The ponies glance at him, frowning slightly. He explains, “So they float.”

“She’s not terrified because she can’t swim,” Fluttershy says as she flies over. The sow looks around for a moment before squealing again, frantically swimming in circles. “She’s afraid of that horrible creature in the water!”

Applejack huffs, walking up to the water’s edge. “Well, it ain’t like the Hock Knees Monster is waitin’ for her in there.” She looks down, her eyes closing with her resigned sigh. “She’s scared of her own reflection.”

“Terrified,” Fluttershy confirms with a nod.

“So tell her to close her eyes,” Doug says with resignation, looking around for the other pigs. There’s a small group on the other side of the pond.

“Then she gets even more afraid,” Fluttershy explains patiently.

“Of course she does,” Doug mutters.

Applejack helps Granny Smith push the crate into the pond. Fluttershy takes over, wings leaving a wake of ripples as she flies to the center.

“The Hock Knees Monster?” Doug asks Applejack.

“Eeyup,” Applejack answers, shuddering. Her voice wavers up and down, “It lives in the Everfree Forest, all long tendrils of meatless knuckles and bony joints. Anypony it catches, or anycreature for that matter, it leaves limbless yet alive, harvesting their sockets to add to its own.”

Doug stares at Applejack for a moment, bowels clenching. “Please tell me you’re shitting me.”

“No bull here,” Applejack says with a solemn shake of her head. “Only reason they ain’t a problem is on account’a the timber wolves.”

“Timber wolves.” Doug has a hard time believing this.

Applejack nods. “Eeyup. Ya know, ‘cause they’re wood? They don’t have any joints, and they like chewin’ bones.” She makes little gnashing motions with her teeth. It’s adorable, in the same way that watching a baby lion do the same things is adorable, but Doug has a sudden cramp in his stomach at the thought of turning that adorableness into anything more.

“Reminder me to never go into the Everfree Forest,” Doug says, going back to watching Fluttershy.

The sow calms down a little as the pegasus and crate approach. She focuses on Fluttershy, trotters reaching up and over the makeshift boat, grunting as she shifts her bulk against it and the lack of reflective surface. The ponies breathe a collective sigh of relief.

The crate immediately capsizes.

“Ah knew we was gonna need a bigger boat,” Granny Smith moans as the sow goes back to squealing in panic.

“Applejack, can you lasso her and just drag her over here?” Doug gets up, watching the crate sink to the bottom of the pond. Maybe twenty feet deep.

“Mm,” Applejack mutters, gauging the distance. “Ah’d have to be standin’ in the water, and Ah don’t like the sound’a that.”

“Because... you can’t swim?” Doug asks, frowning. He knows that’s not right, he swam with Applejack and the others before.

Applejack rolls her eyes. “‘Cause Ah won’t get any traction in that silt, an’ Ah’ll drown if she drags me under.”

Doug purses his lips, thinking back to Fluttershy. Very few ponies can hold their breath, though Granny Smith is one of them, and maybe Applejack inherited something. But it’s not an issue he wants to press.

“Granny, you were a champion swimmer,” Applejack says cautiously. “Think ya could lead ‘er out?”

“Fluttershy tried that, or something similar,” Doug interjects. “She seems to do best when she’s watching her, staring at the sky. But as soon as she looks down to swim, it's over.”

“What about a backstroke?” Applejack mentions, tapping a hoof to her chin. “That’d keep her lookin’ up while she swims!”

“Mm,” Granny Smith mutters, eerily similar to Applejack. “That was a long time ago.” She shakes her bad hip, frowning. “And the only way that hog is gonna go is the way she wants to go.”

“Maybe ya could lead her in the right direction?” Applejack suggests. “Ya know, show her it’s safe?”

“Ah guess,” Granny Smith says, slowly putting hoof in the water. “Ooh, this takes me back,” she reminisces, hooves treading water. “Used to be, ponies’d come from all over to see me dive!”

Doug kicks his boots and apron off before following the elderly mare into the water. His long strokes carry him past her quickly, and the sow seems more fascinated by him than terrified. He takes a moment to steady himself before diving down. He forces his eyes open, ignoring the uncomfortable stinging. Sunlight easily pierces through the crystal clear water, illuminating the crate he worked to make. Hard kicks churn the water, the silence a blessing compared to the constant squealing above. He touches the crate, just briefly, and it stirs a cloud of muck.

Some part of his mind dredges up the idea that a Hock Knees Monster might be lurking underneath the crate, just waiting for him to draw within its grasping range. With the cloud obscuring the crate it’s impossible to tell, and he briefly dreads putting his feet to the bottom. He grunts, a few bubbles escaping his nose, and forces himself to grab hold of the crate. The muddy ground sucks at his feet as he pushes off, reigniting those fears. He half expects to see some bony tendril trailing after him as he glances downwards.

Yet, again, there is nothing there.

He finds it awkward to swim with the crate, but makes it back to the surface without issue. He bursts above the surface with a scintillating spray. A hand wipes his face off before he stares into a pair of cyan eyes.

“Doug!” Fluttershy exclaims, her hooves wrapping around him. He lets out a strangled ‘urk’ as he treads water, trying to keep hold of the crate without dragging the pegasus under. “We were worried a Hock Knees Monster got you!”

“No, I’m fine,” Doug says, reassuringly patting her on the back. Next to them Granny Smith and the sow let out heavy sighs. He hauls the crate up as he pulls away, and she reluctantly lets him go, her hooves dangling in the water. “Didn’t want to leave this behind.” He maneuvers it towards her. “Can you take it back?”

“All that for some wood? Oh, you silly stallion,” Fluttershy says, shaking her head. She can tell Doug has some crass remark, but the way she looks at the crate, then at her hooves stalls it. “But, um, first, I-I, um, h-have s-s-something to s-show you.” She holds her hooves out, her forelegs making a circle, shoes touching.

“Oh?” Doug asks, curious, his remark forgotten. He looks closer, unable to see anything. “What is it?”

A thin wall of water squeezes from between Fluttershy’s hooves as she presses them together, straight into Doug’s face.

Doug laughs, a deep chortle that rings clear across the lake. He’s barely able to keep his head above water as he wipes himself clean again. “Okay, that was pretty good.”

Fluttershy beams brightly as she leans forward, nuzzling him with a palpable sense of longing.

Next Chapter: Ch. 104 - Ascent from Flesh Estimated time remaining: 1 Hour, 43 Minutes