The dusty road leading to Sweet Apple Acres feels like it goes on forever, the only sounds being the occasional rustle of wind through the trees and the distant calls of farm animals. Your phone is safely tucked away in your bag, left behind in favor of this “digital detox” retreat you’ve convinced yourself you needed.

As you step off the beaten path, your sneakers kick up dirt, and you spot a large barn in the distance, where the farm seems to sprawl endlessly. You can’t help but feel a little out of place. You’re more accustomed to city lights than the sunburned red of the barn, and your fingers itch to check your phone—but you resist.

Your attention is pulled to the sound of boots crunching along the gravel road. You turn to find her—Applejack, a tall and muscular farm girl with a no-nonsense air about her. Her freckled face looks like it’s seen its fair share of long days in the sun, and her blonde hair is tied up in a messy ponytail, strands falling out here and there. The denim overalls she wears are fitted, showing off her strong arms that look like they could easily handle more than just apples.

Her green eyes, framed by a wide-brimmed hat, scrutinize you, narrowing slightly at the sight of you standing there with your city clothes and somewhat lost expression. She crosses her arms, giving you a once-over that’s more assessing than welcoming.

“Ya lost, or just here to look pretty?” she asks, her drawl thick, but not unkind.