Rarity opens her saddlebags, pulling out cheese, bread, salad, a bottle of water and two of apple juice. “I wasn’t sure of your drinking preference,” she explains, her horn divvying up the items into approximately two equal portions, “so I brought something I was reasonably sure you would enjoy.”

“Thanks,” Doug says, carefully inspecting the salad. It reminds him of Rainbow Dash’s mane. I think I can tell what’s in it, but I better be sure. “What’s in this, exactly?”

“Cabbage, carrots, and scallions, along with sesame seeds and basil. I added a little extra ginger, I hope you don’t mind.” Rarity taps her chin as she recalls, “There’s also a light vinaigrette, with vinegar, obviously, honey, garlic, black pepper, ginger, again a little extra, and a dash of soy sauce.” She glances over at Doug as he nods along to each ingredient. “Are you worried about allergies?”

“Whether or not I can safely eat and digest it, which I guess counts.” Doug takes the offered salad, looking around for a fork or something. He frowns when he can’t find anything suitable, and the slick dressing isn’t something he wants to get all over his hands unless he has to. “I don’t suppose you have anything like a fork, or a spoon.”

“Hmm,” Rarity says as her horn drops the bite of salad she was about to eat. She rummages through her saddlebags, pulling out three more bottles of water, a sketchpad, colored pencils, the remainder of the food, a rolled up rucksack, and a pair of gloves. Her face falls as she inspects the bottom for anything that might have been left in there from before, but she knows it’s empty. “I must apologize; I hadn’t considered that you might, um, require utensils.” She glances up to his mouth, then down to the salad.

“I don’t think I can open my mouth quite as large as Applejack, or stick my tongue out as far,” Doug says with a chuckle, recalling how easily the earth pony devours her food. “Hey, could I get two of your pencils?”

“Of course,” Rarity says, picking her two least used colors - violet and indigo - and passing them over. Her head cocks to the side as he slips them around his second digit, with the sharpened ends pointing towards him. How delightful! Not to spear his food, as I feared, but as extended fingers!

“Chopsticks,” Doug explains to Rarity’s rapt attention, picking up a chunk of salad and popping it into his mouth. He chews, smiling at the crunch and sharp ginger. “Delicious.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Rarity says chipperly. She levitates a bit of her own meal, her tone almost regretful, “And here I was afraid I would have to feed you myself.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t have imposed on you like that,” Doug says, though he belies that statement with a wink. “But I doubt I could have said no if you so generously offered.”

“I’m afraid it’s going to take more than sweet words to convince me to do so,” Rarity says, though she winks back. Her salad disappears quickly, much like Doug’s, and she makes a sandwich of her bread and cheese, wishing she had fresh cucumber and mayonnaise instead. Alas, it would be a week or so before the first cucumbers were ready, and at quite the premium.

“What kind of cheese is this?” Doug asks as he piles the remainder of his salad onto the bread, the cheese going on top. Please say something other than pony. Not that I wouldn’t eat it, it would just be a little weird.

“Provolone,” Rarity explains, polishing off her sandwich. She stands, stretching her legs.

“What’s it come from?” Doug says, eyeing it carefully before taking a bite. Tastes normal.

“Cow, if I am not mistaken.” Rarity inspects the container it came from, but since she repackaged everything it offers no clues. She begins putting away the trash and empty containers into her saddlebags.

“...Huh.” Doug takes another bite, mulling over his thoughts. “What are cows like? I mean, compared to ponies. I’m somewhat familiar with the ones back home. Dairy animals, about… three times your size?”

“The size is correct,” Rarity says, her muzzle drawing to a thin line, “though the animal designator is not. Creature would be the correct term, as they are hooved and fully capable of speech, though they perhaps are the closest to animals and are on occasion treated as such. There is a colony on the western part of Sweet Apple Acres, though they tend to stick to themselves and are, how shall I say, easily spooked.”

“I guess that explains why Applejack didn’t introduce me,” Doug says with a wry smile. “Wouldn’t want to cause a stampede.”

“Indeed,” Rarity agrees after a moment. “If you want to learn more about them, I’m sure Applejack has some information. Or you could ask them yourselves, once you are deemed ‘safe’.” She pauses a moment. Should I tell him about Fluttershy? She might like somepony - no, somecreature - to talk shop with. “My friend Fluttershy also knows quite a bit about not just the cows but all the animals living nearby.” She takes a final swig from her apple juice, finishing it off, before looking to Doug. She levitates the pair of gloves to him. “Ready to go?”

“Sure,” Doug says, trying the gloves on. They’re some sort of fake leather, very sturdy. Almost uncomfortably so; they’d definitely take a bit of breaking in. The fit isn’t that great - they’re far too loose, about two sizes too big - but certainly better than nothing. He hesitates, not wanting to insult her craftsmanship (craftsmareship? Craftsponyship? ...Work?); at least, not when there is little she can do about it at the moment.

“How are they?” Rarity asks, inspecting her work. She frowns as he flexes his fingers, noting the poor fit. And his trepidation in replying. She softly smiles at him. “You can tell me anything, darling. That’s why I brought these, after all.” She levitates her pencils and sketchbook, jiggling them playfully.

“Well, you can see for yourself,” Doug says, pulling at the gloves, Rarity taking careful notes. He offers her a vague smile. “They’ll work, at least for now. It’s not bad.” He grabs his spade and shovel, moving to the place where Rarity found the gems before. “Here?” he asks, somewhat shortly.

“Correct.” Rarity’s horn lights again, showing the cache again. Her head cocks slightly as she watches him use the spade to break up the hard clay, and then the shovel. Her horn lights, levitating the rucksack to him and unfurling it. She bites her lip, looking to the surrounding rocks and then back to him. “I’m going to go scout for the next one, unless there’s anything more you need.”

“I‘m fine,” Doug says, jackboots jamming down on the spade as he pierces into the next foot of hard material. His eyes widen as he unearths the first of the gems, bright greens and blues shining up at him despite the dirt partially covering them. Some of these are as large as my fist! He bends down, picking an emerald up and admiring it from every angle. And it’s already cut? Is this an actual gemstone, and not some sort of glass? He glances up, catching Rarity just before she leaves. “Y-you want these sorted at all?”

“Mm,” Rarity considers, then shakes her head. “No, though if I find any special ones I’ll be sure to separate them. I’ll meet you back here in a few minutes.”

Doug nods, putting the emerald in the rucksack, then goes back to the hole. It’s easily, what, ten thousand carats worth of gems in this one pile? If I brought these home, I’d be a millionaire many times over. Easily. That or I’d crash the market. So either these are incredibly common, or there’s not much demand. Or both. Are ponies not as materialistic, or do they find different things attractive? ...Nah, pretty sure girls love shiny things, and these are quite shiny indeed.

Doug sighs as he finishes digging out the dozen gems, casually slipping them in and out of his fingers. Why am I thinking about returning home? Getting rich quick never appealed to me before. His hand clasps around the gems, squeezing them tight. He can feel how hard they are, even through the gloves. No, I know the reason.

He looks up as Rarity returns, dropping the gems into the rucksack. “Hey,” he greets her, standing up and slinging the bag over his back. He gathers up the tools, avoiding looking at the white mare.

“Hello,” she returns, smiling as she watches the gems, though her muzzle turns to a frown as Doug takes an awfully long time to pick everything up. “Is something the matter?”

Doug takes a deep breath, his eyes closing. “You said I can ask you anything, right?”

“I did say that, yes,” Rarity replies, if somewhat cautiously. “What is it?”

“How important is family to the Apples?” Doug turns to closely watch Rarity’s reaction, his mouth grimly set.

“Well,” Rarity delays, her muzzle pulling tight, “while I wouldn’t claim to know the Apple clan perfectly, by any means, I would say it is quite important to them. They are one of the few extended families, that I know of, that gather together despite having spread thousands of sticks away from each other. Their most recent reunion was last year, in fact.”

Doug takes a long, deep breath, his body shaking despite his efforts to conceal it.

The white unicorn walks up to the human, traveling up his shuddering body to focus on his eyes even as his gaze remains locked on the ground she left. She rests a hoof on his thigh, softly stroking the thick muscle. She peers into his eyes as his head lowers. “Are you worried about your future with Applejack?”

Doug’s nod is almost imperceptible, his voice a whisper her ears barely catch. “I am.”

“Darling,” Rarity purrs, her muzzle briefly nuzzling his side. “I… I’m sure there exists a potion, or a spell, or some artifact that will allow you the future you desire.”

Doug’s hand comes down to forcefully stroke her ears, pressing her head against his chest. “You really think that?” he asks with a flicker of hope.

“I…” Rarity starts, though it turns to a gulp. I cannot think of one myself. “Perhaps,” she says slowly, “there is somepony else who knows of one, for sure.”

Doug sighs heavily, his massaging fingers stopping their motions. “Figured,” he spits out gloomily, lightly pushing Rarity away. “Should’a known.” He kicks at the dirt before grabbing his pack. “When I dated,” Doug says, his tone becoming flat and detached, “it was always with a view to the future. I wanted to date someone I would marry. If they weren’t marriage material, I wouldn’t date them. And someone who isn’t able to have kids…” Doug takes another deep breath, his hands clenching around the wooden shafts. “I know it’s superficial and stupid, but I wouldn’t want to be that person to someone else. Or somepony else.”

I should tell him, even though he might not want to hear it. Rarity follows after Doug as he marches towards where she came from, quickly catching up and walking next to him. “My friend, Fluttershy, she doesn’t just mediate disputes between ponies and animals. She also listens to problems that ponies have.”

“I don’t need a damn psychologist, I’m not depressed.” Doug jabs the spade into the ground, pulling it back out just as quickly. “I just need to find a solution.” Then his expression brightens, lightly tapping Rarity on the side of her head twice in quick succession. He chuckles, smiling broadly. “We find anything.”

“I must be missing something,” Rarity says as Doug pulls away. She leads him to the next cache of gems, this larger one buried much deeper.

“Rip,” Doug says with a smile, putting spade to dirt. “They’re a group in Canterlot who might be able to help. Either find a specialist who can figure this out, or that spell you were talking about.” That’s probably an easier question to answer than interdimensional travel, and much less controversial. Now, how am I going to pay for it? He glances down at the gems still buried nearly six feet down. Maybe if they can answer the portal question, too?

Next Chapter: Ch. 31 - Andvarius Estimated time remaining: 12 Hours, 7 Minutes