A/N: I didn't even know I could write so much this fast. Also, I can't draw very well, but I feel like maybe adding an image for each chapter. As I've said before, if you spot an error I apologize. Please tell me so I may fix it.

Your gaze continues to lock and unlock as you stare and then look away, seriously considering your first two ideas. But you can’t stand there forever, and it’s getting a little too chilly for your liking.

“Excuse me, miss?” you call out to the filly across the stream.

She remains as silent as your fur is white, frozen in fear. And as the sun relinquishes all hold of the day, the unthinkable happens. You’re still visible, pale white as ever. But that’s not really possible…right? You should have been just as dark as your surroundings.  You’re actually physically glowing, giving you an aura that represents the moon. You inspect your left foreleg and sure enough, you’ve become your own lantern. If you weren’t going to act as a ghost, you might have no hope of disproving her now.

“Please,” you plead, “I’m not a ghost or anything.” You lift a hoof, and she responds by bringing out an unlit lantern. A moment later, she lights it with a spare match, revealing a small yellow filly with a red mane and a large bow attached.

You attempt one more time to get assistance from her. “Can you help me? I’m a little lost out here.”

Surprisingly, she responds. “Ah’m not sure, you look like a spirit on somethin’ from the Everfree Forest. Mah big sister said to not talk with creatures from beyond this river.”

You’re a little offended by that last label. “Creature? I know I’m a little strange but I’m most certainly a pony.”

“You look like one, but none of mah friends glow at night.”

I may not remember everything, but I’m sure she’s right about that.

“Alright, that’s pretty fair,” you admit. “Can I at least ask why a little filly like you is out here?”

She swells her chest with pride and speaks with great pride. “Well, ol’ Big Macintosh is sick with some nasty stomach bug, and Applejack is takin’ care of him. She said she needed more water, and our pump isn’t workin’ quite right, so asked me to come out to the river and get some! Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go bring some water back.”

As if to prove a point, she brings out three steel pails stacked in one another.

You feel slightly concerned about that number. “Three pails? Are you sure you can carry three?” They were about half her size, each. From what you still remember about math, three halves is more than one.

“Are you sayin’ I can’t?”

“No, I’m not saying that at all. It just seems like a lot of work.”

She looks at you, unamused. “Right, well I gotta get goin’ back before Applejack gets mad or worried.”

She takes a pail from the stack and fills it to the brim with water, and sets it aside. She repeats that two more times and then prepares to pick up the buckets. The first one she holds in her mouth, and lifts it with relative ease. The next she hoists up on her back and keeps it upright with amazing balance. The last bucket sits on the ground, waiting for her to pick him up. She looks at it, concerned that she may not be able to complete her given task. Then she looks at you, and a determined look spreads again on her face. She tries to pick up both buckets with her mouth, but they start to tilt sideways when there isn’t enough room, and some water spills out. When it’s apparent that that plan won’t work out, she attempts to hoist the bucket on her back onto her head using her tail. The end result was a goofy looking maneuver with a bucket over her head…and water dripping down her mane. The lantern was also close enough, and some water seeped inside, extinguishing the flame.

“Are you sure you don’t need some help with that?”

She blushes out of embarrassment and removes the bucket off her head. “I-I guess so.”

Seeing as the river wasn’t too deep, you wade across the waters with relative ease, carefully minding not to step on loose rocks.  When you reach the other river bank, you take the empty pail, refill it, and then grab the handle with your mouth. With your tail, mimicking her bucket maneuver earlier, you lift up the unlit lantern. You won’t need to use it, seeing as you are a light source now.

She on the other hoof, knowing perfectly well she can already balance two, takes the other and places it on her back, and smiles.

“’’Ead the ‘ay!” you state, the handle blocking some of your speech.

Somehow, she understands that you meant to say, “lead the way,” and she begins to walk back to the house. You follow by her side, not saying anything, mostly because the pail handle would make it rather difficult to do anyways. The first few minutes traveling back were uneventful, mostly just her pointing which way to go and occasionally stopping to rebalance the bucket on her back.

“So, ‘ow do you g’ow like that?”

You choose your next words carefully, not only so that you don’t give too much away but also so that she can understand you. “Well, really I jus’ found out today.”

“How can you go yer entire life and not know that you glow?”

You fib, “Well, I normally go to sleep very very early, before sunset. This is actually my first time staying up this late.”

Which is technically kind of true.

You continue to add some false logic to your argument. “Since I never saw the night time, I guess I never saw myself glow.”

She cocks her head to the side, just enough so that a small dribble of water escapes from the bucket in her mouth. “I guess that makes sense…”

Her eyes go wide, like she suddenly realized she forgot something important. “I never told you mah name did I? It’s Apple Bloom.”

“Well it is very nice to meet you Apple Bloom.” You drop the conversation, hoping that she won’t ask for your name.

With a slightly peeved tone, she asks, “Well? What’s yours?”

You stop dead in your tracks. Of course she asked… “I-… uhh… don’t know it.”

This time she stops and gives you a concerned, if not curious look. “Well how can you go your entire life not knowing your name?”

“Nopony ever asked.”

“Didn’t yer parents name you?”

“I never knew my parents.” Which I suppose is true right now.

“Then who raised you?”

“I did.”

“So you raised yourself.”

“Sure. Why not, Applebloom.”

She isn’t impressed with your answers.

“Alright alright, you caught me,” you lie. “You’re smart for a filly, asking all the right questions.” With a whisper, you admit, “I’m actually a secret agent. But you can’t tell nopony.” You wink.

“REALLY!?” she screams in excitement. “Oh wow a secret agent! It all makes sense now!” She almost begins to bounce, but she quickly reminds herself she’s carrying some cargo.

You laugh, somehow with a handle in your mouth, and continue walking. Over the next few hills, she asked you a barrage of questions about secret agent life, something you didn’t know too much about. Considering your limited knowledge about everything, you had to admit you came up with an interesting cast of villains. You especially liked the one who had X-ray vision, whatever the heck that was.

Man, I’ve told so many stories I wouldn’t be surprised if my voice goes out again.

Finally, after what seemed like a few hours (but was approximately 10 minutes), you arrive at Sweet Apple Acres. That’s what the sign called it anyways.  An enthusiastic Apple Bloom runs past the gate and inside the house, leaving you behind with the spare pail and the lantern. A few moments later, you hear some kind of argument inside. You can’t hear Apple Bloom fighting back, but you can hear the bemused tone of an older mare, possibly the one named Applejack.

“What...Glowing...Secret Agent? Now Apple Bloom, what have I told you about being dishonest?”

It looks like Apple Bloom is getting scolded, and looking back on it, it would be very hard to believe your story.

Well, I don’t want to intrude on this. If it’s a family argument then it’s best to let them sort it out, and I can wait out here until it’s over.

But, Apple Bloom is telling the truth and she doesn’t deserve to be punished. I should barge in and confront the problem head on.

However, it looks like I’ve caused enough trouble already for her, and having an unexpected guest on her part may add to the problem. I might want to ditch the bucket and lantern and look for help elsewhere.