The sky above the rock farm hung heavy with the deep blue vestiges of night, even as the unseen sun shot its first hooves of scarlet and gold up above the horizon. Alone to watch this early-morning interplay of color, light, and cloud, was Limestone Pie. The tough earth pony mare stood by the edge of an overlook, leaning on the handle of a pickax, watching the kaleidoscopic glinting of gem-laden ore below. Her teeth chattered as she glanced back at the farmhouse and studied its dark, shuttered windows. Its sole sign of life came from the tiny curl of smoke emitting from its chimney, but even that was obscured by the chill, persistent, late-fall breeze.

She shook her head, heaved what she knew would be the first long sigh of her workday, and turned back—

“Hiya, big sis!”

“GAAH!”

Limestone recoiled from the sudden, improbable presence at the very edge of the outcrop. It bounced toward her with pink boisterousness, brandishing something floppy and plaid.

“P-Pinkie,” she spluttered, trying to steady her jackhammering pulse. “What are you… how’d you even… ?”

“‘How’ is, I had a ton of frequent flyer miles.” Pinkie planted three of her hooves and raised a woolen scarf in the fourth. “And the ‘why’ is simple, silly; I know my favorite biggest sister doesn’t always think about how she’s doing, or if she has unmet physical and emotional needs, or other really big things like that! So while I can’t help fulfill [i]all[/i] those needs—”

Limestone facehoofed. “Celestia above, please let my death come swiftly.”

“—I [i]can[/i] at least bring you everything you need to have a great first workday of the chilly season!” And Pinkie began hoofing things at Limestone so quickly that she wasn’t fully sure where they came from: “Here’s a scarf, thermos, space blanket, space heater, Space Jam—”

“What about personal space?!” Limestone dropped the burgeoning pile with a clatter.

Pinkie cocked her head to the side. “But last time I was home, you talked about how lonely you get out here. And I got to thinking how it seems like you get up earlier than everypony else, and how you stay out way longer than dad does…”

A hot blush overtook Limestone’s muzzle. “Yeah, well, he’s getting old. Somepony’s gotta run this place.”

“But that’s not the only thing that matters.” Pinkie’s face-splitting grin softened into a slight smile that didn’t touch her eyes. “I mean, sure, you’re running this better than anypony probably ever has. But what about yourself?”

“What [i]about[/i] myself?”

Pinkie shrugged. “You’d really rather keel over dead than get called on the fact that you’re running from something?”

Limestone took a step back, grimacing. “Look. You wanna talk, go talk to somepony else.”

“What if I just wanna help?”

“Pinkie, your idea of ‘help’ ain’t always helpful.”

“What if I wanna help any way I can?”

“Then stuff a pickaxe in your pie-hole and come help me dig!”

After a slow, silent nod, Pinkie reached up with a hoof, rooted around in her mane, and produced a pickaxe. It went straight into her mouth, as Limestone had ordered.

Limestone nodded her acceptance. Before she could turn away, though, the glint of sunlight on metal drew her attention to the sundry items at her hooves. She bent down and picked up the scarf, then wrapped it around herself before setting off along the edge of the overlook.

“Itchy,” she muttered. But after a moment, a feeling of warmth suffused her neck and upper barrel. “I’ll get sweaty,” she said aloud—though she knew it’d be a blessing on her way to and from the pit, and during breaks.

She glanced at Pinkie, hoping to see a response. But Pinkie simply kept pace. The pickaxe stayed where it was, and her smile was light and subtle.

Limestone flicked her tongue across her lips. “Alright, since you insist… yeah, I’ve been better. I guess, way back, I needed to prove to myself I could run this place. But then dad slowed down, and I had to pick up so much work… now I don’t have any energy to think about anything else!”

She frowned.  “Now I’m [i]stuck[/i], Pinkie. I watched Maud get her Rocktorate, and you’re saving the world… even Marble’s doing some cool stone-tile art stuff lately.”

Limestone glanced at Pinkie, whose grin had deepened.

“I [i]do[/i] need help,” Limestone breathed. She turned a tentative smile on Pinkie. “But I guess today I’m getting some, plus warmth and company.”