Blanket

It was a nightmare. She was stuck and with Flim, too. Nothing could lift her spirits in a time and place like this.

Maybe Applejack should have been more clear with herself. It wasn't as if it was either of their faults. After all, whose fault is it that an apple pie is so juicy and delicious, the tree or the baker? ... Actually, don't answer that.

It didn't matter. Applejack had to keep her head on straight. The shed was dark, perhaps filled with bats or snakes that her vision failed to see. She had to be the smart one with Flim probably shaking next to her. Not that she could tell, actually, but the shed was so small that if she moved just a few inches to her left, they'd be touching shoulders.

"M—maybe we can f—find an axe 'r somethin' in here?"

I'm off to a great start. The stuttering really added some bravery to the situation, Applejack thought sarcastically.

"Mm ... I can't see any axes," Flim said, making Applejack groan, "but here's a lantern."

Applejack turned in surprise. "A lantern? Ya don't suppose there's a candle 'n match in here, too, do ya?"

She heard him start his magic—which was only bright enough to illuminate his horn and nothing else—and move some metals objects around, followed by a small gasp.

"What? What is it?"

She was answered with a match lit aflame. Finally seeing Flim's face, as his green magic aura wasn't nearly as bright as she had thought before, she saw his triumphant grin as he levitated a small candle into the lantern and lit it. Light flooded the room, and Applejack was finally able to see what else was kept in the small shed. Some rakes, a blanket, even a small jar of nails, but no axe, or anything else sharp enough to cut down the wooden door.

"We're trapped," she said defeatedly. Flim responded with a quiet, disappointed hum.

Applejack sat down and leaned against the door, looking up in frustration.

"Can't you buck down the door?"

She sighed. "I already though o' that. The shed's too small, and I don't wanna risk knocking over the lantern and setting the shed on fire, and I don't wanna knock the stuff on the shelves onto us, especially that jar o' nails."

"Ah."

Applejack closed her eyes. She supposed that Flim had sat down to rest as well, for she never heard a peep from him for a while. The silence was rather nice. Even if she wasn't all too thrilled about sharing a room with the former con, she could admit that the room probably felt less intimidating if he was there than if she was there by herself. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

Applejack's eyes shot open when she heard thunder. Her ears drooped in annoyance. Seconds later, she heard rain start pattering on the roof. She hoped that the roof would be enough to keep the rain out.

"Cold?"

Applejack looked at Flim. "Huh?"

"I found a blanket," he said, referring to the thick cotton quilt, filled with feathers for stuffing, folded nicely on the top shelf. She cocked her head.

"You're wantin' to share it?" she asked skeptically.

"Well, I figure it's gonna be a cold night, and I don't think the rain's gonna go anytime soon." He chuckled softly. "What choice do we have, actually?"

She studied his face. Oddly calm, no trace of his usual confidant smirk. Where did the usual Flim go? She bit her lip and joined him on the floor on the opposite side of the room.