Camper led his class into the outback not too far from Trot about Creek. Today was a field excursion day for the survival training class. Camper halted the group in a clearing near a river. “Okay ya bunch of ankle bitters, today we be studying the art of orienteering,” he announced addressing all the fillies and colts in his class.

“Orienwhatting?” one of the students asked.

Camper giggled at the student who could only scratch her head with confusing. “Orienteering, young filly. It’s the art of navigating.” The students still looked a little confused. “Seriously? Nopony knows what navigating is?” Camper deadpanned, all his students could do was return blank stares at him. “Oh great, we have a long day ahead of us. Listen up young guppies. Navigating is where ya use a map or compass to get from one location to anotha’. Much like what we doing today.”

Camper pulled out a saddle bag of supplies, getting his samples out. He showed the young fillies and colts a compass and map, as he began to give some basic instructions on how to use each. The interested students paid full attention, Camper amazed them with a tale of the great outdoors, and how these tools could save their lives one day should anypony ever get lost.

After a thirty minute lesson all the excited students wanted to try it out themselves. Lucky for them Camper was about to oblige. “Okay guys, I wan’t all of ya to split inta groups of two,” he ordered. The students did with due haste and excitement, all students but one that is.

Scribble stood up the back all alone as he normally did. It looked like he would be a solo team. ‘Surprise, surprise, alone again. What’s new?’ Scribble thought to himself as he eyed off all the students angrily.

Camper handed each pair a compass and a map from his saddle bag. “Now listen up class. For today’s exercise ya will all be finding three points. Each point is marked on ya maps so ya can navigate to them. What ya gotta do is use the compass an’ make ya way to all three points. At each point is a flag for each pair. Once ya collect all three flags, make ya way back here to complete the exercise,” he instructed, holding up a map and pointing out several locations marked with numbers.

All the students were now really excited to give their new found navigation skills a test run. Camper sensed the growing excitement and got an idea to help them strive to do the best they could. “We will even make this a little interestin’, hey guys?” Camper proposed, gaining with the full attention of the class. “First team to make it back to me with all three of their flags will not have to take the written exam.”

The students all had grins cheek to cheek plastered on their faces. No written exam sounded like something from heaven. “Now don’t forget ya whistles. If ya get lost or in trouble just blow the whistle really loudly and stay put. I can come and find ya then, an’ show ya the way.” He hoofed all the teams a whistle to use.

Camper was just about to let the raging stream of students lose into the outback when he noticed Scribble up the back without a partner. “Oi, Scribble. Why ya not in a group mate? Do we have an odd number of ponies today?” he asked, as he slowly trotted towards Scribble Script.

The lonely student simply sat there and shrugged. He didn’t know or care either that he was alone. Scribble was used to solitude and all the discomforts it brought. He also knew that nopony in the class ever wanted to pair up with him, so he never put any effort into trying to get along with his fellow class mates. “Anypony not got a partner yet?” Camper asked, looking around to see if any student was yet to be put into a group.

Cold silence was the only answer he got. “Okay than, looks like we will have to make a team of three.” All the students groaned in protest. The last thing any pair wanted was Scribble Script on their team.

Scribble’s expression changed to one of anger. He never could figure out what he did to his class mates to be treated like an outcast, and right now he couldn’t care less either. This was always the treatment he got from the rest of the class. So in return he decided to not care about the situation at hoof.

“Come on guys, ya can take one more wit...” Camper was cut off mid speech by Scribble. The furious student had stormed up to his teacher and snatched the last map and compass out of Camper’s hoof. “Never mind, I will do it myself!” Scribble demanded really loudly, followed by an angry growl.

Camper objected, trying to make him join a group. But Scribble would have none of it. The raging outcast stormed off into the bush completely ignoring his teacher’s demands.

Camper dismissed the rest of the class, and prepared to help the students complete the lesson. He looked off into the distance as Scribble finally trotted out of his sight. ‘I must ‘member to yak with Blazing ‘bout his son. Maybe there is something that could be done to help the little guppy.’

Hours had pasted and Scribble was no closer to any of the three points indicated on the map. He didn’t even care, just wanting to get away from his class mates. Scribble found a nice view from a cliff’s edge. Scribble parked his flank down and took in the wonderful view. If there ever was a more ideal location to reflects on ones feelings Scribble had found it here.

Scribble began to think to himself, as was his normal routine when he was upset. The clouds overhead rolled in while he wasted away the hours thinking on today’s events. A loud bang of thunder snapped him from his thoughts and back to reality. He looked up and saw the grey sky just as it started to rain. “Well, why not. Today couldn’t get any worse no matter what happens!” Scribble yelled towards the sky, taking out his anger on the storm clouds.

The clouds returned their anger at Scribble with another strike of lightning. This much louder burst of lightning startled Scribble enough to make him lose his hoofing. He tripped and toppled down the cliff’s edge. Scribble was so frightened as he kept on falling until he hit a small ledge halfway down the cliff.

The fall made Scribble pass out for a few moments. When he finally came to he was wet, scared and injured, his right forehoof was fractured in addition to many bumps, bruises and open cuts. Scribble tried to stand up only to buckle under the pain of his injured hoof. He huddled himself under the cliff’s shelter to avoid getting wet and wept.

“Scribble,” a mysterious voice on the horizon called.

The shocked student looked out over the horizon to see who was calling. He saw nothing but the rain and bushland below.

Again the voice called his name, louder and with more force this time. “Who are ya? What ya want with me?” Scribble asked the mystery voice.

“Wake up,” the voice replied

The ground around Scribble began to shake violently. “HELP! SOMEPONY HELP ME!” he called out, hoping that help would arrive soon.

Again the voice called, “Scribble, wake up. WAKE UP!”

The train from Trot About Creek to Ponyville cruised along at a pleasant speed during Luna’s magnificent night. On-board all ponies dreamt the night away with pleasant dreams, expect for the train’s engineer, conductor and two ponies in one of the sleeper caverns.

Applejack shook Scribble Script back and forth trying to arouse him from his slumber. “Scribble, wake up. WAKE UP!” Applejack bellowed out.

Scribble’s eyes shot open as he suddenly and unexcitingly shot his head up. Both Applejack’s and Scribble’s heads collided with such force it sounded like she had just bucked an apple tree. Both ponies let out yells of agonising pain with forehooves covering newly acquired lumps to both heads.

“Ah! What the buck were ya doing Applejack!? Tryin’ to kill me now, are we?”

“What was Ah doin’? What in tarnation were ya doin’?” Applejack questioned in retaliation. “Ya were the one screamin’ an’ yellin’ in yer slumber, not me.”

Scribble paused for a moment to get a grip on the situation at hoof. “Wait! I was screaming an yelling?”

“Ya was. That’s why Ah woke ya up.”

Applejack finally took her hoof off her head to inspect the damage. She gently tapped the small lump while continuing the topic of discussion. “Jus’ what in Equestria were ya dreamin’ o’ ta make such loud screams? Ya were also cryin’, musta been some dream.”

Scribble gave of a look that could kill, glaring at her. Applejack throw her hooves up in defence, “What?”

“I mean no offence Applejack, but it none ya business what I was dreamin’ ‘bout,” a sleep and now cranky Scribble informed.

Applejack was a little annoyed at Scribble’s ability to not open up to her. “Come on, Ah not askin’ fer yer entire life story. Jus’ what ya was dreamin’ ‘bout?” She was hoping a soft approach might work on him.

“I said no. Now can we drop the subject an’ get some sleep, please?” Scribble begged.

Applejack was now a little saddened. She normally never had trouble getting any of her friends to open up to her. Scribble was the first pony she ever met who had put up so many walls. She had a hard enough time just breaking an outer layer back in Trot About Creek, so the walls to come were not going to be easy. “Ya can tell me anythin’. Ah promise Ah won’t tell anotha’ soul,” Applejack declared, holding up a hoof to reassure Scribble she was genuine.

Scribble looked out of the cabin window taking in the night view as the train sped out of the bushland and into the lush rolling grasslands of central Equestria. He sighed a little, “Applejack, how can ya expect me to trust ya when I have known ya all off a couple of days?”

Applejack put her hoof to her cheek and thought for a moment, while she watched Scribble stare out the window. “Ah jus’ want ta help ya Scribble. Is that too much ta ask?”

Scribble turned back round to face Applejack who was on the other side of the sleeper cabin and shook his head up and down. He had a look of certainty written on his face, which proved to Applejack he was dead serious.

Applejack knew she had been beaten. She rummaged through her saddle bag that was on the floor near her seat. She pulled out two apples with her mouth and throw one towards Scribble. “Okay than. Hows ‘bout a deal? Ah agree ta not pursue the matter anymore if ya promise ta come an’ tell me ‘bout it when ya feel ready fer it. Sound fair?” Applejack asked, as she held her apple in her hoof and put it up in front of Scribble.

Scribble eyed the apple he caught in his hoof and pondered Applejack’s deal for a few seconds. He looked up and saw a smile on her face and an apple held up towards him. He produced a smile of his own and met his apple with hers. “Sounds good to me, Applejack.” Scribble agreed, the sound of two apples clanging together making the deal official.

“Good, an’ if ya like, call me AJ from now on. Most o’ ma friends do,” Applejack stated taking a bite of her apple.

“Okay…AJ.” Scribble giggled a little taking a bite form his apple.

The apple was unlike any apple he had tasted before. Scribble let out a long pleasant moan, as he took more bites into his delicious treat. “This the best apple I ever had. Ya really grow apples this good?”

Applejack let out a small chuckle. “We certainly do. All apples on our farm grown wit’ Apple family integrity an’ care.” She took another look at Scribble who was consumed with his tasty treat. “Not bad fer a midnight snack, huh?” she cheekily asked.

Scribble throw the last bit of apple into the air and caught it with his mouth. He took a few chews than swallowed the last of his midnight snack down. “Mmmmm, not bad indeed. Tell me a little ‘bout ya farm and Ponyville will ya. Might of visited sooner had I known the apples this tasty,” Scribble jokingly said.

Applejack put her half eaten apple on the seat for a sec. “Hmm, where ta start. Ponyville kinda like yer town in some ways. We primarily a farmin’ town, growin’ everythin’ from apples ta corn, flowers, carrots an’ so on.” Applejack brought her forehoof under her chin as she continued to think of what else she could describe of Ponyville. “Me an’ the family famous fer our apples, apple cider an’ Zap Apple Jam.”

Scribble got a look of curiosity that made Applejack stop talking. “Zap Apple Jam ya say, I think I heard of that somewhere before?” Scribble pondered, a little confused.

“It our special rainbow-coloured spread. We use it fer makin’ an’ bakin’ everythin’ from cakes ta pies.” Applejack gave her chest a little pound with her hoof. Much like a Pegasus she was full of pride with her family’s baking abilities.

“Sounds tasty.” Scribble said rubbing his belly, and getting a little excited. He could almost taste that Zap Apple Jam the way Applejack was describing it. “Say tell me ‘bout ya family and friends, since I will be staying with them from now on.”

Applejack went into great detail telling Scribble about her family and friends. She told Scribble about her strong brother and energetic little sister. All her friends from Ponyville Rarity, Twilight, Spike, Pinkie and the rest of the gang. “Ya, me an’ the girls always seem ta find ourselves in a whole heap o’ trouble quite regularly.”

“Trouble? Just what happens in Ponyville? Sounds like your quaint little town sees a lot of action?” Scribble asked, with more curiosity than a filly peeping through a key hole.

“Ya, yer could say that. But Ah won’t spoil the surprise,” she chirped, sporting a giggle for added effect. Scribble was left stunned. Just what could of Applejack meant by that.

Applejack looked out the train window and remembered it was night time. “I will tell ya all ‘bout it tomorrow. We will be arrivin’ at the station jus’ befo’ first light. So get a little more sleep befo’ we get there.” Applejack yawned as she snuggled up with her pillow.

“Good idea,” Scribble agreed, getting cosy with his pillow and returned to dreamland for a few more hours of sleep.

Author's Notes:

Sorry again for delays. Y'all know what life can be like sometimes. Also us writers do love feedback, so let me know what ya think of the story if ya enjoying it.