Granny Smith finally let her posture slump after turning the corner and reaching the relative isolation of her family’s kitchen.  She began a heavy sigh, but caught herself and held her breath, praying that young Big Mac in the living room wouldn’t have noticed, occupied as he was with homework.  Instead, she let her breath out slowly, and took the occasion to stretch her stiff left foreleg.  She didn’t feel her age most of the time, but then she’d never had to hold baby Apple Bloom as much as she had the previous two weeks—

Since the accident.

She shook her head to ward away the pain that came with thoughts of Bright Mac and Buttercup, and set her mind to thinking on what kind of dinner she could pull together in a hurry.  She plodded toward the pantry, seemingly half in a daze from the fatigue of having to keep the family running all day, and staying up half the night with Apple Bloom.

A faint sniffle intruded into her reverie.

Granny Smith turned to see Applejack seated at the table and wiping her eyes, doubtlessly trying to put on a brave face.  “Aw, AJ,” Granny said, changing course.  “I’m here, and I love ya ta bits.”

Applejack nodded, and met Granny’s eyes with a solemnity that would’ve looked more at home on an old farmhoof than a child of not yet twelve.  “I know, Granny.  I… I know you’re here.  I guess I was just thinkin’ about somepony else.”

A glance at the table before her revealed several sheets of lined paper—some crumpled—and a pencil.  “Yer pen-pal from a few summers back?  What was her name—”

“Rara,” Applejack said quickly.  “Or ‘Coloratura.’  Anymore, she signs it that way sometimes.”

“Well, I’ll leave ya to your writing if ya want,” Granny said, nodding.  “Sharin’ troubles with a friend can help your heart at times like these.”

Applejack’s frown deepened.  “Honestly, I ain’t sure if I oughtta write her.”

Granny blinked away a feeling of surprise.  “Come again?”

“It ain’t that I don’t want to, I just…” Applejack gestured at the paper. “I’ve been thinkin’ for a while that somethin’s funny with the way we write each other.  It started out bein’ monthly, but for a while now she hasn’t always kept up her end.”

“I reckon that’s how ponies get sometimes, though,” Granny said.  “Usually one friend’s a bit chattier than another. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.”

Applejack shook her head.  “I know, Granny, but I don’t think she even thinks about writing until she’s got a few o’my letters lyin’ around.  And I don’t think she reads ‘em anymore… she only talks about herself, and still hasn’t answered some questions I had a while back.”

“That’s city livin’ for ya,” Granny said.  “All so fast-paced that nopony’s got time ta do the simple things. But I reckon it ain’t personal—“

“I know it ain’t, Granny,” Applejack said, punctuating her words with a hoof-clop on the table. “Not like it used to be personal. I mean I hate to say this, but I put things to the test a few months back.  I hadn’t gotten back a letter from her in a while, so instead of doin’ my monthly one, I just stopped.  I figured if she cared, she’d notice, and she’d read some of ‘em and maybe start replyin’ to me.”

“But she didn’t,” Granny said, frowning.

Applejack nodded.  “And now I have the biggest thing in all the world that I could write someone about, and I… I don’t think I could bear it if she didn’t say a word about it.  But then I don’t know if it’s exactly fair to make her say anythin’, with how she’s been quiet for so long.  I thought we were friends, but right now I just feel like I’d be dumpin’ all my troubles on a perfect stranger. Were we really friends?”

“Oh, sugarcube... ya were. And it might be y'still are, or that ya could be.”

“I s'pose.”  Applejack stood and started gathering the sheets of paper. “Reckon I might think about it in my room, if that’s all right.”

Granny held her tongue, put forward a brave face, and nodded.

She felt sure that she heard Applejack let out another sniffle once she exited the kitchen. But with a sigh and a head-shake, Granny turned back toward the pantry.

Close friendship sounded wonderful, but somepony needed to get dinner started before hunger overshadowed all their other pain.