Braeburn emptied the first of his bags onto the guest bed, letting out a tide of pajamas and bed-time toiletries. Toothbrush. Fetlock trimmers. Eye drops—

“Hair curlers?” Applejack asked, holding up a suspicious swivelly looking object.

Braeburn blushed and grabbed the object from Applejack, forcing it back into his bag.

“My mane ain’t always cooperative, y’know.”

Applejack giggled, and Braeburn rolled his eyes at her.

“You gonna be okay set up in here, cuz? I know that bed ain’t the biggest, and you’re probably used to sleeping on a giant canopy something-or-other, one o’ them crazy big beds from Prance—”

“Actually, I still feel most at home when I’m in a sleeping bag with some rocks for a pillow. Even a mattress is an improvement.”

Applejack laughed and grinned wide at her cousin, her face framed by the sun as it filtered through the window on its descent to the horizon.

“I’m glad to hear it! I’ll make certain not to put any extra work into makin’ you comfortable.”

“Thanks, AJ.” Braeburn grinned. “I don’t need any undue effort on my part. Just happy to see the family again.”

“Now, in terms of making things feel more at home,” Applejack went on, “I could wake you up with a rattler under the sheets. ‘be a bit of an effort to scrounge one up in this town, but I ain’t about to put a price on family.”

Braeburn rolled his eyes, and Applejack snickered at him. After a few seconds of resistance she broke into a full, proper laugh, and Braeburn couldn't help but follow.

After a few seconds, Applejack wiped away a single tear as her laughter settled, and Braeburn did the same.

“It’s good to have you here, Braeburn. Lookin’ forward to spendin’ the next week with you,” Applejack said. She made her way to the bedside table as she spoke, inspecting it for general guest-type amenities: drinking glass, lamp, and a copy of a book she couldn’t recall the name of in the top drawer. Just like her own little Apple-Hotel.

“Are things gonna be okay back in Appleloosa while you’re gone?” Asking about work at home went with an unspoken answer, but she needed to ask anyway, even though she knew what the reply would be. There was no way Braeburn would and take off without putting things in order beforehand. No Apple would.

“Of course. They’re big ponies. They can run the show without me for a few days.”

“I’m just glad we get to steal you away for that long. Feels like it’s been forever since you were around.”

Applejack sprung suddenly toward her cousin, and before Braeburn could react, there were forelegs around him, grabbing him and pulling him close in an unexpected hug. He did the only thing he could think of, which was to hug back.

Applejack squeezed extra hard. Braeburn could feel weight against his chest as Applejack pulled him closer, nuzzling her hat into his. Braeburn returned the hat-nudge, and the brims of their headwear touched as they held each other.

“Feels good to see you too, AJ,” he said.

Applejack gave a final squeeze before she let go, prompting an almost inaudible ‘umph’ from Braeburn. Her eyes shimmered in the fading sunlight, glimmering softly.

“I reckon’ you’re tired from such an early day,” she said,  “so if y’all wanna call it an early night, I won’t hold it against ya’. Just so long as you’re ready for an action-packed day tomorrow.”

Braeburn nodded as he straightened his pillow, adding one or two he’d brought from home, decorated with lace covers and frilly designs all the way to the edges.

“Sure thing, ‘cuz. You’re right in thinkin’ I wouldn’t mind some shut eye if I can convince you to let me catch a few hours.”

“No problem,” Applejack said, already at the door. “You want me to wake you up for breakfast?”

“‘course.” Braeburn threw his final extraneous pillow into place, creating a tower of headrests that seemed bigger than necessary for something he’d forget was there the moment he closed his eyes and dozed off.

He looked at Applejack as he reached his hooves up and removed his hat. His grass-green eyes flickered in the sun, the same way Applejack’s had.

“Do you... do you think Granny Smith’ll make her famous pancakes, on account of my visit and all?”

Applejack smiled just wide enough to keep her laugh at bay. When she spoke, her words carried the hint of the chuckle she had swallowed.

“Ain’t a problem. I’ll make a special mention to her on your account.”

“Shucks, AJ, you don’t have to do that.”

Applejack shook her head emphatically.

“No ‘but’s about it. I insist... Mr. Family Guest.”

Braeburn slumped his shoulders, but Applejack could see the look of anticipation flicker across his face.

“Anything else before I let you catch a few z’s?”

“Nah, that’s all, AJ. Thanks again for having me up. I’m lookin’ forward to the next few days with you and everypony else.”

“And my friends too. You get to meet all of ‘em again,” Applejack cautioned, her voice stern, like she was scolding a child.

“Ain’t gonna have any problems there, AJ.”

“And, you gotta remember their names this time.”

Braeburn swung his foreleg sideways front of his stomach, punching the air in defeat.

“Shoot. And here I thought I was gonna get off easy.”

Applejack giggled and put her free hoof to her mouth as she nudged the door open.

“G’night, Braeburn. Hope you have a good sleep. Come get me or Big Mac if you need anything, alright?”

“Will do, AJ. Sleep tight.”

Braeburn turned to the window before Applejack shut the door. The sun was at the bottom of its arc now, just a tiny bit barely peeking out from over the horizon and bathing everything in a surreal lilac light.

Braeburn sighed as the setting glow washed over him, and all the scenery fit for taking in, stretching as far as his eyes could reach.

With one foreleg, he patted an unopened bag to his side.

“After breakfast,” he said to himself, staring out into the horizon of sunset colours.

He stared for a few minutes more before the overwhelming comfiness of his tower of pillows called to him too loud and he fell sideways into the bed. In only a few seconds he was out like a light, still wearing his vest and hat. He slept well for the most part, but chewed his lip from hour to hour, biting down on it like a foal might during a particularly bad dream.