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- >”Celestia damn it! That stallion is gonna go mess with someone again.”
- >”Tough splint? The one that beat up that poor Big Mac?
- >”Yea that’s the one. Guy’s no good, but no stallion can even scratch him. One of these days, we girls gotta do something.”
- >”What? Tell him to stop, that isn’t gonna do apples, about this.”
- >”We all told him a bunch of times. Nah, I rather teach him a lesson, put a hoof in those pretty teeth of his.”
- >”And some mare lookin to score helps him, and then you get a year at best, in for hitting a stallion.”
- >”I know, I won’t do anything, girl can dream, right?”
- >”It begins!”
- >You stand by the large wooden cart, loaded to the brim, apples filling every basket and shelf, some spots reserved for other products made of the fruit.
- >In front of you is Big Mac, next to the cart, checking his cart supplies.
- >”Thanks fer yer help, Ah’non. Ah coulda never been done harvestin that field with Apple Jack gone.”
- “Nonsense, Mac. Anytime you need help, just ask, not like I do anything anyway.”
- >”Ya’re a fine stallion anon. Should ah pay ya now, or later?”
- “Woah, I never said anything about a pay. Don’t worry about it Mac, just helping a friend.”
- >”Are ya sure? Ahm countin this as an apple family favour anyway. If ya sure ya don’t want no-“
- >The Red stallion stops mid word, and his eyes widen to a location behind you, fear in his eyes and facial expression.
- >A moment later, he turns his head and stares at his hooves, while nervously fidgeting.
- >You turn around and move slightly out of the way. Your new field of vision holds a big stallion, standing just below your pecks.
- >His coat is a light leather brown, his hair dirty blond, eyes a dark crimson.
- >”Hey Mac! Ya doin good?”
- >His voice is mischievously playful, somewhat deep.
- >”E-ee-eeyup.”
- >You now notice 2 other average stallions standing about 7 meters from the stall. Both with shit eating grins seemingly directed at you.
- >Wanting to wipe that grin off their face, you perform a light snarl, especially showing off your left canines.
- >They see this, and somewhat recoil back.
- >Directing your attention back to the “boss” stallion. He is slowly eating an apple, talking to Big Mac, who is clearly scared for some reason.
- >”So yea Mac, I gotta say, ya put up the best fight.”
- >The stallion turns to you wearing the same shit-eating grin his friends had not a few seconds ago.
- >”What about yer friend here Mac? Who’s he?”
- >Mac is scared shitless, shaking even. He nervously looks everywhere, trying to avoid eye contact, and stutters like he has a speech impediment.
- >”He-he just visitin, don’t worry about him. H-he ain’t ever h-hurt a fly.”
- >Suddenly, the stallion grabs Big Mac by the neck using his fore hooves.
- >”Ya think this I’m playing, Mac? Ya think this is a mother bucking game?”
- >”N-n-n-no!”
- >”No, what?!”
- >”N-No, sir!”
- >Quickly scanning around, you see all eyes looking at the scene with pity.
- >Turning back to the stallion screaming about how he was going to ‘take care of the both of us’, right before a hoof sweeps macs face.
- >Causing the red stallion to hit the floor and curl up into a ball, his hooves protecting his head.
- >Facing you again, the stallion seems to be having fun and hardly looks mad more than just somewhat huffing. Like he just did some warm ups.
- >”You! Ya know who the buck I am?!”
- “You can swear you know, just say fucking. But no I don’t know.”
- >”Wise guy, eh? When I’m done, ya won’t be makin any jokes, for a while.”
- >The stallion huffs and pumps his cheeks out, and snorts with a mist, through his nose.
- >Without further warning, the stallion charges at you with a war cry like scream.
- >He stands mainly on his hind legs, using his fore hooves to attack you, somewhat stretching to reach your taller figure. You block his attacks easily, with your left arm.
- >He repeatedly hits you aiming for the chest region, with the force of an above average 10 year old.
- >Eyes of sympathy fall on you, and some mares comfort stallions looking away in pity and fear.
- “Can you stop that?”
- >You ask the question in mild annoyance, and a hint of anger crawls into the words.
- >The stallion starts panting and between huffs manages to say a few words.
- >”What *huff* you *huff*huff* gonna *huff* do *huff*?”
- >Getting annoyed, you answer his question.
- >Pushing the stallion away as he gets on hind legs to strike, causing him to fall on his back, and quickly get up.
- >He charges at you again. You lift your right arm into the air, all 5 fingers making a fist. Simultaneously aiming at the stallions head.
- >Bringing your arm down as the stallion begins a leap. Your fist collides above his right orbital bone, at a force of no less than 3000 newtons.
- >The stallion rag dolls lefts before hitting the dirt ground and dragging a little generating a proportional dust cloud, ending up a few meters from you.
- >All the onlookers watch in awe and disbelief.
- >You’re somewhat unimpressed.
- “That’s it?”
- >One by one the entire market place floods with the sound of stomping hooves and cheers of your name.
- >Looking over to the stall, Big Mac is lying on the ground peeking through his hooves.
- >You walk over calmly, and kneel down next to your terrified friend.
- >”How did ya-?”
- >Mac begins to ask, but then just leaps wrapping his for hooves around your neck and gently sobs.
- >”Ah! Ahms, sorry, ah didn’t help you! Did he hurt ya?”
- >You scratch him behind the ear, confused to all hell.
- “No Mac I’m fine. Don’t worry, everything is alright.”
- >After a few minutes of sobbing, You help Big Mac pack up his stall and take him to sweet apple acres.
- >He had a black eye from the attack, as well redness in both ocular organs from crying.
- >On your way home, stallions and mares cheer you on; some give you little trinkets and treats, a mare even gives you a basket to help carry all the treats. Word travels fast.
- >Getting to sweet apple acres, Mac leaves the cart in the shaded cool area of the barn. He then leads you to the farmhouse.
- >No one’s here, Mac walks to the kitchen and gets you a bottle of special apple family cider.
- >You sit on their couch with the cider mug in your hand, Mac looking at you as if you’re his crush, which you might be.
- >Staring into nothing, you look at the basket of things given to you. Some pricey desserts as well as little pieces of art and such overfill it.
- >You look down at the special apple family private cider, according to Mac it takes 9 months to make and made from a secret recipe. Only apple family has access to it.
- >Finally, your gaze wanders back to Big Mac, who is still giddy with joy, and awe, like Scootaloo is with Rainbow Dash.
- >You’re beyond confused state askes a simple question.
- “Oi, what just happened?”
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