"These're the ones you call Golden Delicious, golden cause of the dark yellow peel, y'know. They're mighty sweet in particular, which is why ponies mostly use 'em for salads or the likes. Pretty visibly different from red apples, too. Most common red apples are either Gala, Elstar, Red Delicious, Red Astrachan, Boskop, or Cripps Red. Now Braeburn – that's a bit of a mixture; somewhat red, but also show some distinctive green taint ev'ry now and again. Green ones there's plenty of just as much, but the ones you're probably most familiar with are Granny Smith. These do have a color mighty similar to the coat of our own Granny Smith, which is probably why her folks named her that in the first place, I reckon."

"Darn tootin'," the old mare croaked in addition to the monologue, leaving Applejack a pause to catch her breath. She then went right back to digging into her breakfast stew.

"Anyhow, those sorts are what you'd call the basics," Applejack concluded. "We've grown most of them here at one point or another. They don't all grow equally well on this here soil though, which is why I'm constantly tryin' to filter sorts out and optimize production. Ain't always easy, but we get by, I guess."

My head was still spinning. Still sleepy from a night that felt way too short, I briefly forgot about the age-old rule to never ask ponies about anything they were seriously passionate about. Most of them wouldn't let you hear the end of it. I could only imagine how rarely anyone would ask about the nature of apples in a household that was about literally nothing else. So naturally she'd jump at the rare opportunity.

"So, uh…" I began, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere "Her name has always been Granny Smith, then?"

"Eeyup," was Mac's reply, muffled between two bites of his sandwich. It seemed to conclude any possible discussion on the subject.

"Tell us a bit about yourself then, Berry," Applejack continued. "It's okay if I say Berry, ain't it?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, sure." I shot up from my cereal with the uneasy feeling of there being a bit too much milk still stuck to my muzzle. "Well, I'm from Baltimare. But you already know that. Also, uh…" I stopped myself for a moment but eventually realized that there was no point in not telling at least part of the truth. "Ugh, who am I kidding. It's not that I don't have a place to stay right now. I haven't had one for years, if I'm honest. I've had some differences with my parents, and they, uh…they kicked me out of the house when I was still pretty young. Not that young, but not really, well, all grown up and stuff. So, yeah."

I paused, thinking about where to continue. Also how much of the truth I should actually tell them. Would my moving around all the time make things better or worse? I definitely didn't need to tell them about how unreliable I could be when taking up a job somewhere. Much less about how not having had anything strong to drink in days made my throat was burn and ache to the point where I sometimes felt like I couldn't breathe anymore. Or the sick feeling that came with it. I really didn't need to talk about that. The best thing for me to do was keep my drinking down to a minimum for time being, and hope no-one would notice.

Applejack didn't seem to notice my desperate train of thought, but I could tell from the look on her face just how concerned she'd grown while I said all that. "So, what did ya do all that time then?" she asked.

I could only shrug in response. "Move around," I said. "Try to find something else to do, build up a new life. But I didn't really…know how to do that, so it never really worked out. The details aren't really interesting, I wouldn't want to bore you with all that."

I paused again, and all of a sudden, it did grow very quiet around the table. Applejack, along with her brother and sister had stopped their eating and were giving either me or the table looks of grim concern. Only their grandmother didn't seem to have herself bothered with any of it, since she just kept on going at it with her breakfast.

"I don't want to be mooching off someone else all the time though," I said. "And…I can work. Really. I'm not a skilled worker or anything, but give me something to do that doesn't require any special training, and I'll do it. Do you…think there's something to do in town I might be somewhat good at?"

"Huh," Applejack replied and looked at me. "I'd say I could offer you to stay with us as a farmhand for the season. It's just that…season's just about done now, and we put away the last of them apples just last week. There ain't too much to do around here in the winter. We might have to fix parts of the place up every now and then, but that ain't no work for somepony who ain't never done it before, no offense."

"None taken."

"If ya want to find work to do, you should go to town and ask around. There's bound to be something, there always is. If I were you, I'd go around to Sugarcube Corner. It's a cafe and a bit of a gathering place for locals. Bright and colorful building, right in the center of town. Can't miss it, really."

"Alright."

"There's a friend o' mine working there, too. Pinkameena Pie is her name, but folks 'round here just call her Pinkie. I'd suggest you ask for her when you get there. She's one of them ponies always up and about socializing with everyone and whatnot. Knows basically everyone around Ponyville, so if ya want any info, you'll probably get it from her."

I nodded.

"Actually," Applejack added after some brief consideration. "Actually, you better just call her Pinkie. She usually don't like that other name too much."

"How so?"

"Beats me. Gets her down sometimes though, and that ain't ever a pretty sight."

"Fair enough."

"There's something else though," Applejack said. "I ain't no psychologist or anything like that, but I can tell you were being honest with what ya just told us. That might not be the whole truth just yet, but you seem a good pony, nonetheless. So, if ya don't find anything…we're here to help, alright? With that deal Mac's made for our business back in Baltimare we're pretty much set for a good while anyhow, so another mouth to feed won't make no difference."

I nodded that off, silently staring into my bowl of food, not daring to look her in the eyes. What she just said made me feel a whole mix of emotions I couldn't really do much with. I felt light years away from deserving even a tiny piece of all this.

"Look, Berry. I can see you've been through some mighty rough times. I just wanna help, is all."

I nodded again. After a while trying to blink back tears, I managed a muffled "thank you," feeling I'd owe her at least that.

The tension over breakfast actually made me feel somewhat relieved to get out of Sweet Apple Acres for the day. As I went into town, I told myself not to try and avoid Applejack and her family just because of my feeling uneasy about their help. At that point I needed some fresh air however, and this rural town was more than happy to provide me with it. I didn't want to stay out too long, even. The day did pass quicker than I thought it would though, and when I went on my way back to the farm I didn't feel like I'd actually gotten much done. Given the shortened days during winter, it probably really hadn't been that much time.

Around sunset I strolled around the streets, still feeling a bit messy from that visit to the cafe Applejack recommended. Her friend had very much provided me with all the info I needed about no less than four different places around town where help might be wanted. Afterwards she also bombarded me with questions about myself while burying me in a tsunami of information about the town, herself, her friends, and above all how great everything was, all while desperately trying to befriend me or at least getting me to acknowledge her attempt. She'd been such a whirlwind of emotions that I decided to use the first opportunity I'd find to get back out of there and home safely without appearing all too rude. In the end, I only had to promise to give her regards to the Apple family and all that, which wasn't too much to ask.

I chuckled at the encounter, to be honest. I didn't necessarily dislike Pinkie Pie because of her behavior either, it wasn't like she meant to make me feel anxious. A bit of it made me laugh, too. And that hadn't happened in a while now.

My thoughts and smiling got interrupted however, when I rounded a street corner and suddenly found myself face to face with the purple filly from the other day. The one who wanted to be my sister or something like that. She stopped and beamed at the sight of me, which was just about the last reaction I'd expected.

"Hi again, Miss Punch," she squeaked as a greeting. "You look even better than yesterday."

"Thanks," I replied with a snort. "How did…how did that project of yours go?"

"Oh, not too bad. We did get a B+, but Miss Cherilee can be pretty strict with those kinds of things, so I guess it went well. Oh, Miss Cherilee is our teacher, by the way. That's right, you don't know her."

"Right, right, um…" I hesitated at first, wondering whether I really should bring up the whole sister thing again. But I figured I might as well. "What about that me being your sister thing from yesterday, then? What was that all about?"

"I mean, we're not really sisters, duh!" she said. "But I don't have a sister, and I sometimes think it would be nice to have one. Like, we have this thing every summer, this competition, right? It's called the Sisterhooves Social, and you gotta be there in pairs, otherwise you can't join, and, uh…" she interrupted herself, as the rapid outburst had obviously gotten ahead of her own thoughts. "And you don't really have to be sisters either, I've seen pairs of ponies join who weren't sisters, like the, uh, okay no, you probably don't know them. But we could be like…sort-of sisters, and that's enough for the Social, don't you think?"

"I guess," I told her. "Eh, fair enough. I think I can do that once a year."

She jumped at that, her grin widening even further. "Sweet, that's so cool! Oh, I forgot, I have to be home by sunset, uh, gotta run, but thanks!"

She took off and dashed down the street for another block or two before rounding another corner and disappearing out of sight. I watched her go with mixed feelings about what I'd just agreed to. Of course I liked to see that filly happy, I just wasn't too sure I could live up to her expectations. I didn't want to disappoint her…so I'd just have to stay on track and not mess around next summer. I could do that for one day, at least.

Speaking of not living up to the expectations of others, I remembered there was one more thing I wanted to look into before calling it a day. I kept gazing up and down the street and glancing into side roads for a place where I could get myself a bit to drink. Just a really, really tiny bit; a glass of wine maybe, but not much more than that. Trotting down that little, wet road in downtown Ponyville then and there, I promised myself one more thing, just like so many times before: One little drink, and then off to bed. With all the positivity of the day so far, I felt positively sure it would work this time.