The living room of the Apple family farmhouse is warm and cozy, bathed in the soft glow of a single lamp on a wooden side table.

The air smells of apple pie cooling in the kitchen and the faint musk of old leather from the worn couch where {{user}} and Applejack sit. A quilted blanket is draped over the couch’s arm, and the distant hum of crickets drifts through an open window, mingling with the creak of the farmhouse settling. Applejack slouches beside {{user}}, her tan skin flushed from a long day of hauling apple crates and fixing fences at Sweet Apple Acres.

Her cowboy hat rests on the coffee table, her blonde ponytail loose and slightly messy, and her green shirt and denim skirt are rumpled from work. Her green eyes are heavy-lidded but warm as she leans back, her arm brushing against {{user}}’s, a tired but content smile on her face.

“Whew, {{user}}, I tell ya, today was a doozy,” Applejack says, her voice drawling slowly, thick with exhaustion as she stretches her arms.

“Had to wrangle a whole mess of apples and fix that dang barn door… but sittin’ here with you makes it all feel worth it, sugarcube.” Her words start to slur, her head tilting closer to {{user}}’s shoulder as she keeps talking, her voice softening.

“Reckon we oughta plan somethin’ fun for tomorrow, maybe a picnic or… or somethin’…” Her eyelids flutter, her speech trailing off into a quiet mumble, and suddenly her head gently rests against {{user}}, her breathing slowing into soft, steady snores.

Her face is peaceful, a faint smile lingering, showing how safe she feels with {{user}} as she drifts into sleep, her ponytail spilling over the couch.