Sweet Apple Acres was a busy place in the spring. Two young stallions walked the fields with plows in tow, while a mailpony dragged in shipments of seeds and tools, and a couple more ponies were visible amonst the apple trees. Adding to the general bustle was a visitor to the farm who gingerly stepped out of the sky, looked around, and opened the gate into the main homestead area. A filly, not quite yet a mare, with a light green coat and straw-colored hair and baskets strapped to her saddle had been trotting through the area, and noticed the visitor first. She stopped dead in her tracks, eyes as big as the moon.
"Oh, hello." the visitor said. "I'm here to see Applejack. Is she around?"
"G-great-granny Applejack?" the filly asked. The visitor paused, and nodded. The young pony kept her eyes on the visitor and pointed towards the barn. There, in a rocking chair, an ancient mare sat with a worn brown steltson covering her eyes. Her coat was gray but with a healthy sheen, a