After a short walk, Applejack and I approach what seems to be her home. It was one of the buildings I had initially taken to be a barn, and from the looks of it, it was one at some point. It shared the same overall construction as the other buildings, which were barns now that I was close enough to look at them properly. Where it differed was evident, however. It had several add-ons and modifications, which one could tell at a glance had probably been added on as needed later on.

Enjoying a peaceful midday nap, sitting in an old rocking chair near what looks to be the main entrance, is a rather elderly mare. Her coat is a pale, almost key lime green, and she had styled her mane and tail into buns. The well-earned deep-set grey and white pepper mix of the elderly that colors them is just as much a signifier of her advanced age as the weathering of her face. She wears a frilled length of fabric, one of those old-lady scarves, colored the same orange as the coat of the mare beside me and dotted in bright red apples.

“Granny Smith! Wake up, we’ve got a visitor!” Applejack calls out loudly but cheerfully in that elevated volume typically reserved for the hard of hearing.

The elderly mare starts from her slumber, sitting up as straight as she can manage with the deep-set curve in her spine. “Whah huh, what was that now, Applejack? I didn't hear ya proper. I was restin’ mah eyes…” She says a bit blearily, rubbing at them with her hooves before blinking a few times. Granny Smith’s eyes settle on me, a bit surprised momentarily before her lips curl into a pleased little smile. “Now look what we have here. Applejack, who’s this ya got here with ya?”

“Granny, this here is Rose Tint.” She says as she walks closer to her apparent grandmother, whispering into her ear and covering her mouth with a hoof.

As she listens, the old mare's eyes express realization, then mild concern. She looks over at me with a sympathetic smile. “Oh, well ain’t you a far sight from home.’ She says with a tinge of sadness to her tone. “Ya know, I was a settler back when ol’ Ponyville was still a colonial holding. I was mighty lucky things turned out as well for us as it did.” She says as she slowly gets up from her chair and sets on all fours, hobbling toward me and offering a hoof once she is within distance. “Names Granny Smith, but you can just call me Granny if you like, son. Go on ‘n put her there now, don’t be shy. No unicorn stallion is gonna put out enough juice to hurt a stout ol Earth Pony mare.”

I am unsure how true that is, but I extend my leg nonetheless and do my best approximation of a handshake, grasping my hoof to hers with as confident a smile as I can muster. “It’s a pleasure, Granny. I’m Rose Tint, as Applejack said. I’m from an er, non-pony settlement down in Louwhinnyana, so I apologize if I’m not up to speed on how some stuff works around here.”

As I grip her hoof, I am surprised that she seems to be correct in her assertion. For an old bag, she has some obscene gorilla grip on that hoof. Okay, no. That’s terrible phrasing, and I don't want to think of any part of a mare that old having a gorilla grip. The fact that I’m okay with thinking about it on a mare my own age is already weird enough.

Pushing that unwelcome and intrusive train of thought clean off the rails before it can plow into the tied-up damsel that is currently my tenuous sanity, I return my attention to Granny Smith as she begins to speak.

“Oh, adopted, were ya? What were your folks like? Donkey’s? Zebras?” She asks, seeming more curious than anything. However, the question still had that tinge of something less savory.

Applejack also seemed to catch onto it, giving her grandmother a slightly worried look. “Now, now, Granny. There ain’t no need to jump right into the personal questions…”

Granny Smith’s expression softens a bit at this. She gives a slightly sheepish nod, “Aw, you’re right. Don’t rightly matter, I suppose. You seem like decent ponyfolk either way. Anywho, it explains your flank still bein blank at your age. It ain't quite so easy to get your Cutie Mark out in the sticks, away from proper pony-tended lands. Even here in Ponyville, bein' this close to the Everfree makes the foals sometimes get theirs a lil later than normal.”

“Cutie Mark?” I hesitantly ask, tilting my head slightly as I hope I’m not making myself sound like I’ve crawled out of the nearest cave. “Could you explain what you mean by that?”

Granny and Applejack both give me the look I was afraid of. The one you might give when you hear a man announce he is about to grow a second head. Applejack is the first to recover and respond. “The uh…the marks we have on our flanks here, Rose. They show up when you find out what your special talent is. Usually, you get 'em pretty young.” She says as she turns slightly to show off her flank, revealing an image of three apples decorating it.

Ah. Well, shit. I might as well have asked what puberty was. I give a small sigh and nod. “I see. I don’t think I saw anything like that back home. Thank you for telling me. Do you think I might get one now that I am in…proper pony lands, as Granny put it?”

Applejack shakes her head, giving me an apologetic look. “Awe, c’mon Rose. She ain’t mean anythin’ by it. It’s just how it is. The further out from the mainland ya get, the harder Harmony gets to come by, so stuff like Cutie Marks is harder to get. Pony magic stops workin' quite as well, too.”

She did mean something by it from her tone, but the explanation at least puts an understandable reason to it. I shrug and offer a reassuring smile to the two of them. “I’m not mad. I’m just trying to understand, is all.”

Granny Smith relaxes at the reassurance and nods, smiling a bit wider than before. “Ain’t nothin' to it, son. And don't you worry none. I’m sure that you’ll figure out what you’re meant to be doin’ sooner than later. Anywho, I’m sure Applejack has a good reason to bring you around these parts.” She says as she looks over at the younger mare, clearly expecting further explanation.

Applejack gives her a slightly nervous smile and speaks again. “Well, I was just hopin’ to invite ‘em to dinner, is all. He’s all on his lonesome, and he don’t rightly know how he got here. I found em walkin' out of the Everfree without a care in the world, not even knowin' where he was, much less where he walked out of.”

Granny’s eyes widen at this, and she leans forward with a slight sputter. “Now, what kinda malarkey is that? Son, you’re damn lucky to come out lookin' as clean as ya do, much less alive!” She says in a firm, scolding tone as she shakes a hoof at me. “I won’t be too hard on ya since ya seem to have gotten there not of your own accord, but don’t go wanderin' around in there again.”

“I already told ‘em as much, Granny. Ain’t no need to get heated over it,” Applejack says as she looks from her grandmother back to me. “You can see why I thought the fella could use a nice hot meal and some company for the evenin’, though.”

“I suppose I can, Applejack. I darn well suppose I can.” She says as she simmers down, clearing her throat. “Well, if Applejack is keen on invitin’ ya into our home, you’re more than welcome to eat with us. There’s a guest bathroom up the stairs, first door to the left. Why don’t you go ahead and check out the town? It’ll be a bit until everyone comes back from the fields for dinner. Just be sure to be back at the house before sundown if you want some grub.”

“Now that sounds like a mighty fine idea,” Applejack says, gesturing at a path leading out from the front of the house. “Just head out that way, and you’ll hit the edge of town in about fifteen minutes or so if you keep a nice clip. Just be careful. There’s a lot of uh… un-spoken-for mares in town. Not a whole lot of stallions in these parts, ya see.” She says, giving me a look that tells me I should probably know what she’s talking about.

Which I don’t. But at this point, I’m starting to get a bit embarrassed about it and decide that a bit of faking might help me make it. Besides, whatever it is can’t be too bad, right?

I give her a small nod and a reassuring grin of my own. “I am sure it’ll be fine. Ponies can’t be too different from what I’m used to, right?”

“Uh…if you say so, big fella. Here, lemme grab somethin’ for ya real quick…” Applejack says, giving me an unsure look before walking into the house, the sound of clopping up a set of stairs thumping through the wall from inside. She returns a few minutes later with what looks to be a set of burlap sacks with a strap on them, her cutie marks embroidered on either one. “Here, take my ol saddlebags with ya into town, so if you need to bring somethin’ back, you can carry it easier,” she says with a small smile as she drapes them over my back. The item fits comfortably, covering and resting on my flanks and lower back.

She shows me how to operate the strap to lock the item in place, and afterward, I shoot her an appreciative glance. “Oh, well, thanks a lot, Applejack! I’m not sure if I’ll need them, but it’s better to have ‘em and not need ‘em, huh?”

“Ain’t that the truth, Rose. Now you go on and have a nice walk. We’ll be here when ya get back.” She says as she starts making for the door. “I got work I gotta get back to, and I’m sure Granny here wants to finish catchin' up on her beauty sleep.”

The elderly mare gives Applejack a side-eye, and I hold back a chuckle at this as I give another nod. “Alright then, I’ll make myself scarce for now. You two have a nice afternoon.”

With that final little exchange complete, I make my way down the road after Applejack sets off. She heads back towards the orchards, and I head down the path that leads into town. I really hope I make a good first impression on the townspeople…or uh, ponies…

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