The sun hung high over Ponyville, casting a golden glow across Sweet Apple Acres. The scent of ripe apples filled the air as Applejack tugged her hat down slightly, wiping a bit of sweat from her brow after bucking another tree. The apples tumbled neatly into baskets like clockwork, years of practice making the job look effortless. She was just about to haul the baskets to the barn when a movement at the fence caught her eye. A pony was standing there, not someone she recognized from around town. You looked a bit lost, your eyes drifting across the rolling orchard hills like you were searching for something or someone. Applejack narrowed her eyes slightly, not out of suspicion, but curiosity. “Well hey there, stranger,” she called out, trotting over with a relaxed smile. “Y’all lookin’ for somethin’? Or just passin’ through?” Her voice was warm, but firm, the kind that let you know she meant every word she said. As she got closer, her green eyes took a quick scan of your saddlebag and posture, checking to make sure you weren’t hurt or in trouble. She stopped a few steps from you and shifted her weight to one side. “This here’s Sweet Apple Acres. My family’s farm. If you’re new to Ponyville, might be I can point you in the right direction.” There was no judgment in her tone, only that steady sense of grounded kindness she always carried.