1 ✫ [audio] :: a rodeo of a different sort
[At first, there's silence from Applejack's journal. Or something close to it, anyway; a definite quiet broken only by soft and steady breathing and the occasional snuffle. Then rustling and a yawn as the snoozing pony stretches and rolls over, still half-dreaming.
It's not exactly the most elegant entrance someone could make to Paradisa, but Applejack never went for that kind of thing even when she was conscious. She yawns again and rubs her eyes with a hoof blearily, sleepy murmurs caught by the journal she's not even aware of possessing.]
...hmm? Apple Bloom, don't bother me now, go an' see Granny if yer hungry. I'm-
[But she doesn't get a chance to finish that sentence, because her green eyes snap open and the new surroundings become apparent to her. Frantic, aggravated clopping of hooves as Applejack dashes about- over here, over there, finally in a circle of utterly dumbfounded and near-panicky confusion. And then a sharp, surprised intake of breath as she notices her flank- or to be more exact, how blank it is. How it lacks her cutie mark, the three red apples she's impossibly proud of. Applejack checks again, and again, and the noise repeats each time. Until she starts yelling, that is, loud and angry and with a definite southern accent.]
JEST WHAT IN TARNATION IS GOIN' ON-?!
It's not exactly the most elegant entrance someone could make to Paradisa, but Applejack never went for that kind of thing even when she was conscious. She yawns again and rubs her eyes with a hoof blearily, sleepy murmurs caught by the journal she's not even aware of possessing.]
...hmm? Apple Bloom, don't bother me now, go an' see Granny if yer hungry. I'm-
[But she doesn't get a chance to finish that sentence, because her green eyes snap open and the new surroundings become apparent to her. Frantic, aggravated clopping of hooves as Applejack dashes about- over here, over there, finally in a circle of utterly dumbfounded and near-panicky confusion. And then a sharp, surprised intake of breath as she notices her flank- or to be more exact, how blank it is. How it lacks her cutie mark, the three red apples she's impossibly proud of. Applejack checks again, and again, and the noise repeats each time. Until she starts yelling, that is, loud and angry and with a definite southern accent.]
JEST WHAT IN TARNATION IS GOIN' ON-?!