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Jun 25th, 2018
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  1. "It isn't fair, it isn't right." – Tessie Hutchinson, “The Lottery”
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  5. There’s something special about a campfire on a cold night, thought Applejack.
  6. She sat on the half-log bench with her eyes closed, letting the heat of the fire hit her from the front and feeling the cold from the October night raise goose pimples on her back. Across the circle of logs, Applebloom was laughing at Carrot Top’s stories about her housemate, and Granny Smith was talking to Big Mac quietly about farm business. The smell of roasting marshmallows still lingered in the air, barely discernible in the strongly woodsmoke-flavored night air.
  7. Applejack opened her eyes. Scattered around the campfire were the remnants of the smores they’d made: graham cracker crumbs, chocolate bar wrappers, and one blackened husk of a marshmallow that Applebloom had forgotten to pull out of the fire when she was telling Applejack all about the day’s adventures. Applejack had made and eaten too many smores tonight, and they were starting to settle in her stomach, making her feel bloated. Aw, whatever, she thought. After such a long day of apple harvesting, Applejack had worked up a heck of an appetite. She deserved to be able to pig out every once in a while.
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  9. Harvesting had finally been finished up, but Applejack’s workload was about to get a lot bigger. Every year at about this time, the farm always had a huge surplus of apples, far more than the town of Ponyville could eat before they went bad. Applejack’s responsibility after the harvest was to figure out what kinds of apple products the family needed to make in order to keep them afloat during the coming months, and in what quantities. Cider? Jam? It wasn’t an easy thing, to run a business, but Applejack was getting better and better at it every year. When she was a filly, things had always gotten rough around the end of winter. Sometimes there were stretches of weeks where the food on the table was a bushel of preserved apples, three times a day. Applejack smiled with pride at the thought that she’d gotten the farm to the point where her family could live comfortably all year round.
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  11. Tomorrow, Applejack would have to start stressing over the plan for the winter. Tonight, though, she could leave her worries by the wayside for a few hours. She closed her eyes again and smiled.
  12. The conversation around the campfire stopped abruptly.
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  14. Applejack’s smile vanished in a flash. She opened her eyes, unsure of what she’d see.
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  16. Each pony had stopped talking, and each wore an expression of terror on their face as they looked out beyond the circle of logs. It took a while for Applejack to see what was frightening them, but once she did, she froze with fear just like the rest.
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  18. Half a dozen sets of eyes glinted in the dark of the night, reflecting the light of the campfire. They were ponies’ eyes. Alarm bells immediately went off in Applejack’s head, and adrenaline quickly kicked her senses into overdrive. Her mind started racing. Six creatures probably meant a pack of some sort. They’d gotten the drop on her party. Applejack was sure that she and Big Mac couldn’t win in a fight against timberwolves, if that’s what these creatures were. But timberwolves never left the Everfree Forest, and they never attacked ponies unless they felt threatened. What were these things, then? It didn’t matter: they were here, and they were close. Applejack cleared her mind and mentally prepared for a fight. Maybe she’d go down, but she could surely give Applebloom, Carrot Top, and Granny Smith time to escape.
  19. So there she sat, tensed, watching the pair of eyes that was closest to her position, ready to spring up and deliver kicks to whatever was out there if it made a sudden move towards her. But it never did. The seconds stretched into minutes, and Applejack could hear nothing but the sound of the campfire and her own breathing.
  20. One by one, the pairs of eyes flashed and went out. Applejack rose up and got ready to fight – but no fight came. The creatures had gone… she hoped. After about a minute, she got up, grabbed the bucket of water lying by her side, and put out the fire. Now at least her eyes would get used to the darkness, and she might be able to see her attackers in the light of the waxing moon.
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  22. But there was nothing to see. The scene before Applejack’s eyes was the same as on any other night. There were the apple trees, past the ridge, and there was the farmhouse. No eyes, no pack of creatures, and no sign of anything out of the ordinary.
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  24. Applejack looked around for a long time. Finally, she turned back to the others. “I think,” she said, her voice wavering, “that we’d better get inside.”
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