“Cuz, I sure am glad to see ya’!”

Applejack’s voice split the air of the train-station. While the hustle and bustle of passing ponies caused enough of a background cacophony to make a conversation harder to hear than a bunny in a stampede of cattle, there was something about her voice that was slid through the noise.

“Well, shucks, AJ, I’m glad to be here.”

There was a voice that was out of the norm in Ponyville. The same down-to-earth intonation as Applejack, but brighter. Cheerful, upbeat, just a little less Southern. Not more ‘cultured’—just tempered.

“You sure you don’t mind puttin’ me up for a bit?” the voice asked, evading the noise of the station in the same way Applejack’s had.

“Don’t you worry about it, Braeburn. We’ve always got room for family, and this is a special occasion. When’s the last time you were out’a Appleloosa?”

The voice had a name.

It also had a picturesque appearance: the Western frontier colt still covered in a faint sheen of red Appleloosan dust sparkling on his cowpony vest and hat. He looked like he had wandered in straight out of the dire rocky cliffs in the middle of the desert.

Braeburn had a set of bags slung over his back, carrying what looked to be enough luggage and provisions to keep him in good health for weeks. Applejack looked longingly at one of the bags, her family hospitality urging her to yank the rucksack right off her cousin’s shoulders, but the counterpoint of her politeness held her back. Walking him from the train station would have to do.

“The last time I was out of Appleloosa... well, heck. I can’t even really remember.” Braeburn scratched his bare chin as he attempted to recall his earliest memory aside the hiss of steam trains delivering him to the sun-seared frontier of western Equestria. All he could remember at the moment were songs around a campfire, and work always waiting to be done.

“Well, it don’t matter none. Important thing is you’re here now, and you’re gonna have such a good time you won’t wanna go back when we’re done!” Applejack nudged her cousin in the side, chuckling.

Braeburn laughed uneasily at Applejack’s enthusiasm.

“Uh... right. Well, we’ll see. I’m just glad to see the family again. Y’all always said such nice things about Ponyville, I’m grateful for the chance to check it out myself!”

Applejack beamed.

“And you should be! This here’s the best little town on this side of Equestria, and you’re gonna love bein’ here every minute.”

Applejack cast her eyes around the market stalls as she and Braeburn walked from the station, through the far side of town and on ‘tward the center before coming out at the other end of the city square fountain, heading on their way to Sweet Apple Acres.

She didn’t have a lightning flash tour for her cousin the same way he’d had one for her, but she could make do with extolling the virtues of Ponyville nonetheless, even if she couldn’t drag Braeburn from shop to shop as though every corner of the town held a novelty to be gazed at in awe.

“Lots o’ stuff to do around town,” Applejack started, as though she was trying to convince herself. “You already heard about the farm, which I gotta say is lookin’ pretty swell this time o’ year. And, I gotta show you the sights around town. There’s the, uh...”

Applejack’s brain abandoned her tongue suddenly as it sought the nearest spectacle to emphasize.

Stores. Market stalls and stores. Houses and stores. Boring old stores, and boring old ponies in front of them.

She may have made a mistake.

“...rock,” Applejack finished lamely.

Braeburn cast a sideways glance as he tried to keep his eyes forward, dodging the unaware ponies ambling through the crowd as though they were on autopilot.

“A rock?” Braeburn asked. He raised an eyebrow. He’d heard Ponyville was a small town, though he’d never imagine a village-wide fascination with a rock.

Dang, Applejack thought.

“Yeah, uh... a rock. It’s a big one that Rarity brought from, the uh... labyrinth where we fought Discord.”

“Y’all fought Discord?” Braeburn went wide-eyed as he turned to face his cousin, stopping his well-paced gait in the process. “The ancient Spirit of Disharmony himself?”

Yes. Applejack mentally pumped her hoof in the air.

“Sure did. Me and all ma’ friends, who, if I recall, you met on our visit to Appleloosa.”

Braeburn scratched the back of his neck behind awkwardly.

“Well gee, cuz, I’m sure I did, but I, uh, don’t have the best memory for names, y’see.”

Applejack gave her cousin a light-hearted glare.

“Horseapples. You remember the name of every pony in that frontier town o’ yours, I’ll reckon.”

Braeburn balked and looked around as if scanning for some sort of defense against his cousin’s verbal counterpoint.

“Well... yes, I do, of course... but that’s different! I live there!”

“You’ve had a talent for rememberin’ ponies every since you were little, Braeburn. Goes along with that big mouth o’ yours.”

Braeburn blushed, but quelled his embarrassment by returning Applejack’s glare. She giggled at him.

“I’ll reintroduce you to everyone again. I’m sure they’ll all be dyin’ to meet ’cha.”

Braeburn tucked his body inward as he narrowly passed a middle-aged pony reading a newspaper and walking at the same time. When he felt it was safe, he nodded in Applejack’s direction.

There was a lot to avoid; even a small town like Ponvyille felt like the big city to Braeburn. Too much density. Too many ponies. He liked it when the town was only big enough to know everyone on a first name basis, and when a new arrival to town was an event instead of just another drop in an invisible bucket.

Braeburn noticed ponies giving him looks as he walked by. He wasn’t sure if it was just how out-of-place he must have looked, still dressed like a frontier settler instead of a well-kempt city—or town—pony. He noticed, however, that most of the looks were from girls; mares seemed to let their eyes linger on him longer than he felt was appropriate, and he was sure he noticed one or two blushing as he narrowly avoided their hooves by ducking towards his cousin.

Braeburn didn’t give them a second look. Walking in the crowded town was hard enough without his eyes occupied elsewhere—

“Oof!”

Braeburn let out a grunt as the wind was knocked out of sails. What felt like a brick wall had appeared in front of him suddenly, and the impact made him want to sit down and catch his breath for a good long while.

As he opened his eyes, reeling from the collision, a black-coated pegasus did the same, rubbing his hoof over his chest and then up to his silvery mane, which he slicked back only seconds after determining his chest and abdominal cavity were uninjured.

“Uh... sorry,” Braeburn managed, still smarting from the encounter. Applejack had stopped in time to prevent a three pony pile-up and contented herself with letting her cousin fend for himself in his apologetic introduction.

“‘s okay,” the pegasus said. Apparently uninterested in discussing the situation further, he pushed past Braeburn and faded into the crowd, standing out amongst the blur of pastel colours and flowing hair-dos with his spiked up mohawk and jet black fur. Braeburn watched him walk into the throng, staring at the silvery stand-up of hair until it vanished like a shark’s fin into the sea.

“Braeburn? You awake over there?”

Braeburn snapped his head around,  eyes wide as if he’d just been woken up.

“Huh?”

“I’ve said ‘Let’s get a move on’ a good three times now. You okay? Not gonna let a little bump get you down, are ya’?”

Braeburn shook his head, clearing the focus of his eyes and thoughts. “Sorry cuz,” he said. “Just a little more winded than I thought I’d be.”

“Ain’t no worry. We’ve got all day to get home... or a couple hours more until the sun sets, at least.”

Braeburn looked upwards. The sun looked down at him and smiled from its place, gliding down the other half of the sky.

It seemed much smaller here than it did in Appleloosa.