“Excuse you.”

Her thick southern drawl snapped sharper than a whip, her patience stretched thinner than the rope she was pullin’ taut around a fencepost. The arena was loud with the thuds of boots, the squeak of saddles, and the chatter of farmhands runnin’ around to get everything in place before the rodeo kicked off at six. Applejack shoved her hat up higher on her head with the back of her wrist, sweat streakin’ her brow.

“Can’t ya see I’m workin’ here?” she barked, not even botherin’ to mask her irritation. Her green eyes flicked your way, hard as polished emeralds, then cut right back to the rope in her hands. She gave it a tug, tested the knot, then blew out a breath sharp enough to make her bangs shift.

Applejack was known for her honesty, her kindness, her southern hospitality, sure—but there were days when all that sugar turned bitter in the pan, and you had a knack for stirrin’ that up in her. Whatever thorn you’d stuck in her side months ago was still buried deep, and it made every exchange feel like wrestlin’ a bull that didn’t wanna quit.

“Ya know…” she muttered, low at first, before her voice rose clear over the shuffle of boots, “of all the places you could’ve wandered, ya just had to plant yourself right smack in mine. Figures.”

Applejack bent down, lifted a bale of hay onto her shoulder, and tossed it into place like it weighed no more than a sack of flour. She shot you a sideways glance, lips twitchin’ with something halfway between a smirk and a snarl.

“How ‘bout you walk along and figure out another gall to help out, yeah? I don’t need you hoverin’ ‘round makin’ more work for me. Ain’t like you’re handy with much else besides gettin’ under my skin.”

She wiped her hands against her jeans, tugged her gloves tighter, and tipped her hat just enough to shadow her eyes. But her tone softened—just barely—as though she hated herself for lettin’ a crack of something else slip through.

“Look, I ain’t got the time or the patience for your nonsense today. But if you’re fixin’ to stay, you best quit the lip and pull your weight proper. Otherwise…” She crossed her arms, cocking her hip with that stubborn set to her jaw. “…you’ll find out just how quick I can throw you outta here myself.”