Comet's Tale

Apples and Dandelions

The dining room was quiet, the only sounds being the occasional clink of silverware against plates and the rhythmic creak of Granny Smith's old rocking chair in the corner. It wasn't a comfortable silence—it was thick, heavy, and filled with words left unspoken.

Braeburn glanced between Applejack and Big Mac, his eyes narrowing as he noted how tense his cousin had been all evening. Apple Bloom, oblivious to the charged atmosphere, hummed to herself as she finished her mashed potatoes. Granny Smith, ever perceptive, sighed and poked at her food, her green eyes darting between her grandchildren.

Mac barely touched his plate. His mind was elsewhere, replaying the moment from this morning that he just couldn't shake.

He had been walking past the barn when he saw them—Thunderlane and Applejack. The pegasus had been helping out on the farm, hauling heavy barrels of apples like he'd been raised doing it. Mac didn't have anything against that—extra hooves were always welcome.

But then AJ turned to him, smiling, and leaned in. A quick peck on the cheek.

Thunderlane grinned, ruffled his wings, and took off into the sky, leaving behind a laughing Applejack who watched him disappear into the clouds.

Mac felt his jaw tighten even now, sitting at the table. The memory brought with it an irritation he couldn't name, a deep, gnawing frustration that only worsened when Apple Bloom had blurted out at breakfast a few days ago, "Ah saw Applejack and Thunderlane kiss!"

The whole room had gone silent that morning. Applejack's face had turned red, but she hadn't denied it. And ever since then, she had felt Mac's quiet disapproval. He never said anything outright, never confronted her—but she saw it in the way he avoided her gaze, the way his responses were clipped and short, the way his shoulders tensed when Thunderlane's name was mentioned.

And now, at the dinner table, she had had enough.

Applejack set her fork down harder than necessary, making Braeburn glance up. She turned to her brother, eyes sharp. "Alright, Mac," she said, her voice carrying a firm edge. "It's clear as day you got somethin' on yer mind. So how 'bout you quit sittin' there all quiet and just say it."

Mac exhaled through his nose, his lips pressing into a thin line. He looked at Apple Bloom, then back at AJ. "Apple Bloom, go to yer room."

Apple Bloom frowned. "But I ain't done yet—"

"Now."

The filly huffed, but the serious tone in her brother's voice left no room for argument. Granny Smith didn't say anything either—she just sighed again and kept poking at her plate.

Apple Bloom stomped up the stairs, and when her bedroom door clicked shut, silence fell over the room again.

Mac folded his forelegs across his chest. "Ah don't think you should be seein' Thunderlane."

Applejack blinked. Then she let out a short, incredulous laugh. "You're kiddin' me, right?"

Braeburn frowned. "Mac, what in Equestria are ya talkin' about?"

Mac's expression darkened. "He's a pegasus."

The words hung in the air like a bad stench. Braeburn's ears flattened. Applejack stared at her brother like she couldn't recognize him.

"You're sayin' that like it means somethin'," Braeburn said, his voice dangerously low. "Since when did you care what tribe somepony's from? Ain't you always been friends with pegasi? Unicorns?"

Applejack shook her head, a bitter edge creeping into her voice. "I never thought I'd hear my own brother say somethin' like that. What, you got a problem with pegasi now? You racist or somethin'?"