Dawn broke over the sprawling, earthen landscape. Celestia’s sun cast brilliant, shimmering beams of light that crested over the hills, shadows dancing in tandem with the softened pink-gold hues that stretched across the sky. The seasoned light-green mare looked out upon the sight and smiled, head swaying ever so slightly in rhythm with the occasional bumps and dips of the train tracks. It had been quite some time since Granny Smith had visited Appleloosa: the last time she had been, it had been nothing more than a shambling collection of the odd settler’s hut or two strewn about haphazardly, not entirely unlike random pebbles littering the orange dust that the settlement had resided upon. She was younger then - a middle-aged mare, to be precise - and thought fondly of those days, reminiscing on memories of shin-digs around crackling log fires and dancing with strapping young stallions under crystal-clear moonlit skies.

“But Granny -” the orange earth pony had begun, eyes still uncertain.

“-T’ain’t no buts about it, Applejack. This here’s just summat I oughta do.” Most of the Apple family had gathered in the aged red barn, hay strewn about, to hear Granny speak.

“Ah’m gettin’ up in years, Applejack. Ah ain’t no young filly any longer. This here’s…well, it’s just summat I oughta do. Ah reckon Ah still know a few pony-folk out’n them parts, and Ah hain’t seen most of ‘em fer a long time.” Granny was met with a mixture of looks on her kin’s eyes as she spoke those words - from Applejack, confusion and reluctance - from Applebloom, sadness and perhaps a bit of understanding - from Big Macintosh, a knowing look with a heap of concern.

“As much as Ah ain’t too keen on admittin’ it, yer ol’ Granny ain’t got too much time left. Mah days in Equestria…they’re…-” Tears began to well up in the weathered old mare’s eyes, making her looks years older than she really was. Applebloom was already weeping silently, trying her best not to make her sobs audible. Applejack was in second, a single tear streaming down her bright orange coat, glistening on the pale freckles that dotted her face. Even Big Macintosh’s eyes were bigger than usual, but he shed no tears.

Reluctantly, Applejack simply closed her eyes and nodded. The orange earth pony had grown into the role of the family’s spokes-pony fabulously, though Granny wasn’t sure if Applejack realized it. It would have done her parents proud to see her the way she was that day - strong, yet relenting. A gentle but firm leader.

Looking out the dust-covered window, Granny Smith could just begin to make out the outskirts of Appleloosa in the distance - small, humble homesteads and farms cropping up here and there, with dozens of earth ponies already hard at work in the fields, some still shaking the sleep from their tired eyes. Her heart ached for Sweet Apple Acres - farming was the only life she had ever known. Growing up on Apple Family farm was no picnic - it had been hard work, but every single night after an honest day’s work bucking apples, she drifted off to sleep on her thatched hay mattress with a smile on her face, knowing that she wouldn’t have traded it for the world.

“When do ya reckon you’ll be back, Granny?” Big Macintosh had asked her, as she knew she would. Holding back the deluge of emotion that threatened to burst forth like a broken dam, she plastered a benevolent, stoic look on her face and said,

“Well, Big Mac, Ah cain’t be sure of that just yet. Ah’ve been fixin’ to get to Appleloosa fer quite a spell now. Ah reckon Ah’ll be back…” - she tried to breathe deeply, the earthen air hitching in her chest - “…Ah reckon about a week or two.”

“You be sure to write, now, y’hear?” Applejack insisted. “Derpy’s got a lady-friend ‘round those parts with the courier service, and Ah’m sure if you jus’ tell’er who you are, she’ll be sure to a letter out our way lickety-split!” Granny smiled.

“Don’t you worry yer pretty little head, AJ. Ah’ll be sure to write. And you, little miss filly!” she said, turning to a now openly weeping Applebloom. Using her rickety old walker, she trotted over on shaky legs to the young pony, her lip now trembling as she tried to stifle the sobs. “Don’t you go cryin’ on mah account, now. Yer ol’ Granny’s just goin’ on a little trip, s’all.” The filly looked up at her elder with glimmering round eyes and weakly smiled, nodding slightly. Granny Smith bent down and nuzzled her - no small feat, given her limited mobility - and the smile grew, so infectious that almost everypony in the barn ended up smiling as well.

The train began to slow as it approached the town proper, metal wheels clacking over wooden tracks at a decreasing tempo. The dust kicked up from the pull-ponies’ hooves decreased little by little, and the train gently came to a stop. The conductor pony climbed on board, announcing - “Last stop, Appleloosa! All passengers, please retrieve your luggage and make your way to the front of the train.” With a contented sigh, Granny Smith gingerly pulled on her faded cloth saddlebags and slowly rose to her hooves, her walker leading the way to the front.

As she approached the steps that led to the wooden platform outdoors, the conductor pony sprang to action and assisted the old mare down the steps.

“Why, thankya kindly, sonny,” Granny said.

“No trouble ‘t’all, ma’am. Are you staying in town? Would you like me to call a carriage for you?” the conductor pony asked.

“Ah thank ya, but no, Ah’ll be fine. Ah’ve just…Ah’m just gonna set a spell. Get mah bearings.” The conductor pony looked as though he was about to protest, but upon seeing the sincerity in the old mare’s eyes, he merely nodded and stepped back on board to assist the other passengers who were disembarking.

The light-green mare made her way to a series of benches on the train station’s platform, just on the edge. They overlooked the mane drag of Appleloosa - the sun was shining brightly over the frontier town, reflecting off of the brown-gold dust strewn about the ground, almost giving the various shops and inns a sort of earthen luminescence that put a grin on Granny’s wrinkled face. She breathed in deeply through her muzzle, the scents and smells of the place bringing decades-old memories bubbling forth. Settler ponies went about their morning routines, contentedly trotting to and fro; some were setting up shop for the day, making sure that their wares were on proper display for any passer-by to see; some were affixing themselves to the several horse-drawn carriage services that the town had to offer; others still were setting up their easels and supplies for their daily horse-drawn horse-drawn carriage businesses, making sure to get the framing just right.

As the carriage that would take her to Ponyville’s train station arrived at the gates, Granny was accompanied by all present members of the Apple family, keeping pace with the determined - yet somber - mare as she hobbled in that direction. Applebloom was the first to hug her, wanting to be reassured that Granny would be home soon.

“Ah promise. You take good care’a yer sister, now, y’hear?” The filly nodded vigorously.

“Applejack, you watch after the farm while I’m gone. Big Macintosh, you look after yer sisters.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the colt replied courteously.

“Be safe, Granny,” Applejack told the Apple family’s matriarch as the carriage stallions helped her into her seat.

“Ah’ll be fine, Ah tells ya!” Granny reassured cheerily, trying her best not to burst into tears. “Everypony’ll get along just fine without me around, I reckon.” With that, Applejack’s worst fears were confirmed - she was the Element of Honesty, after all. She had always had a keen ability to sniff out lies; though Granny wasn’t so much lying as she was…well…embellishing the truth, for lack of a better term. Teary-eyed, Applejack gave her Granny a hug goodbye, whispering something that nopony else could quite make out into her ear. Granny’s eyes widened just so - but only for a brief moment as she quickly recovered and stroked her granddaughter’s mane.

As the carriage pulled out of the gate, the Apple family just stared until it crested over the hill and disappeared below the horizon. A sullen, almost palpable funk hung about the air like a damp cloth.

“Applejack?” the young filly began, looking up at her big sister. She almost didn’t say anything, looking at the expression that was on the orange earth pony’s face; the strangest mixture of conflicting emotions, each one battling with the other markedly in the most minute details. When Applejack remained silent, she tried again - “D’ya reckon Grany’ll be back soon?”

The proud pony, normally a pillar in the family for others to lean on in times of need, simply turned and began to trot toward the orchard, walking in no particular direction in no particular hurry, leaving Applebloom confused and perhaps just a bit more upset than before. Had the little filly been able to see her sister’s face, though, she would have seen a look that could have only served to make matters worse.

Granny looked out upon the scene that lay before her. A few moments passed, and with the slightest of grunts, she once again got to her hooves and began to hobble toward the mane drag, headed in the direction of the local watering hole.