The Jack of Apples
Jan. 13th, 2020 09:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
plonqThere are a couple of characters whom I have somehow managed to avoid mentioning in any of my fan stories to date, so I'm aiming to correct that.
Since poor AJ was quite pointedly omitted from my last one, I decided to make it up to the girl with a whole story of her own.
I've put the wraps on the second chapter of what I expect to be 4 by the time it is done.
8<--------------- teaser below ----------------------
Even though the wooden buckets hanging from it were empty, the yoke weighed heavily on Applejack's shoulders. She was tired and a little sore from a full day of harvesting apples, but it was the kind of aches and weariness that felt right for a working pony like herself. The burn of her fatigued muscles reminded the mare that she had put in an honest day's labour.
The last tree of the evening loomed before her with its lush leaves rustling in the wind, and its branches drooped slightly under the weight of ripe, red apples. The pony halted a few steps from the trunk and knelt before it, not in reverence, but to shimmy out of her yoke. She wiggled free of its grip and then stood again, twisting her neck to elicit an appreciable pop from its joints as she rose.
"All right, tree," said the orange pony. "Here's the way I see it. I'm about out of bucks to give today, so there are two options; you drop your apples now and save yourself some bruised bark, or we can do it the hard way." She pawed the ground with a hoof and finished with, "Ah aim to end this one way or the other ... if you catch my drift."
The tree responded by standing firm and mute, as trees are prone to do. The nearest thing that Applejack could interpret as a reply from it was a rustle of wind through its leaves, and a dapple of late-afternoon sunshine shimmering through its canopy. The pony snorted and cocked her hat forward on her head. "Ah figured that would be your answer," she said grimly. "Okay then, it looks like we'll have to do this the hard buckin' way."
The farm pony reached out one of her mud-encrusted hooves and scratched an almost imperceptible X in the bark near the base of the tree. After a quick inspection and nod at her choice, she turned and expertly unloaded a thunderous two-hoofed kick to the centre of the X. The tree shuddered under the blow, and though it rained down a few leaves, all of the apples remained firmly attached to their branches and merely bobbed tantalisingly over her head.
Applejack frowned with disapproval as the shaking tree gradually stilled, and a single apple partially detached. The lone fruit looked for a moment like it was going to drop, going as far as to slowly twist around one-hundred and eighty degrees on its thread of remaining stem before it stopped.
"Really?!" Applejack cocked her head and grimaced up at the lone, taunting fruit. She wanted the other apples as well, but this one had made it personal.
Since poor AJ was quite pointedly omitted from my last one, I decided to make it up to the girl with a whole story of her own.
I've put the wraps on the second chapter of what I expect to be 4 by the time it is done.
8<--------------- teaser below ----------------------
Even though the wooden buckets hanging from it were empty, the yoke weighed heavily on Applejack's shoulders. She was tired and a little sore from a full day of harvesting apples, but it was the kind of aches and weariness that felt right for a working pony like herself. The burn of her fatigued muscles reminded the mare that she had put in an honest day's labour.
The last tree of the evening loomed before her with its lush leaves rustling in the wind, and its branches drooped slightly under the weight of ripe, red apples. The pony halted a few steps from the trunk and knelt before it, not in reverence, but to shimmy out of her yoke. She wiggled free of its grip and then stood again, twisting her neck to elicit an appreciable pop from its joints as she rose.
"All right, tree," said the orange pony. "Here's the way I see it. I'm about out of bucks to give today, so there are two options; you drop your apples now and save yourself some bruised bark, or we can do it the hard way." She pawed the ground with a hoof and finished with, "Ah aim to end this one way or the other ... if you catch my drift."
The tree responded by standing firm and mute, as trees are prone to do. The nearest thing that Applejack could interpret as a reply from it was a rustle of wind through its leaves, and a dapple of late-afternoon sunshine shimmering through its canopy. The pony snorted and cocked her hat forward on her head. "Ah figured that would be your answer," she said grimly. "Okay then, it looks like we'll have to do this the hard buckin' way."
The farm pony reached out one of her mud-encrusted hooves and scratched an almost imperceptible X in the bark near the base of the tree. After a quick inspection and nod at her choice, she turned and expertly unloaded a thunderous two-hoofed kick to the centre of the X. The tree shuddered under the blow, and though it rained down a few leaves, all of the apples remained firmly attached to their branches and merely bobbed tantalisingly over her head.
Applejack frowned with disapproval as the shaking tree gradually stilled, and a single apple partially detached. The lone fruit looked for a moment like it was going to drop, going as far as to slowly twist around one-hundred and eighty degrees on its thread of remaining stem before it stopped.
"Really?!" Applejack cocked her head and grimaced up at the lone, taunting fruit. She wanted the other apples as well, but this one had made it personal.
