Unfortunately, Golden Delicious was not up to it.

He barely made it to lunch, afraid that each next step would be his last, stumbling around on his rubbery legs. The apple wine hangover didn't help things, but he wasn't sure how well he would have done sober, either. The stallion he was trying to keep up with was taciturn and huge, and without any conversation to distract him from the back-breaking labor, it felt like every minute lasted for hours.

When the lunch bell rang, it took all of his strength to stumble back towards the general direction of the house, doing his best to navigate by sound alone. He was just too damned tired to lift his head and take a look!

He only heard the miniature set of galloping hooves once they were almost upon him, and a tiny, yellow face shoved itself into his field of vision before he could do much about it. "Goldie, why're you lookin' at the ground?"

"Lookin' for my hoofprints." He rumbled, continuing to plod ahead slowly, concentrating on putting one hoof in front of another.

"Your hoofprints are behind you, silly!" Apple Bloom giggled, moving out of the way as he plodded, trotting alongside and around him. "It's time for lunch! Get a move on! Giddy up giddy up!" She insisted, rising on her back legs to give his flank a push.

He cried out a lot sharper than he'd intended, the dull ache in his flank becoming a searing white-hot fire as she touched it.

Apple Bloom shied backwards, but soon darted back up to him again, already-large eyes widening in distress. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Sore, that's all." He hissed between gritted teeth, trying to work through the pain, speeding his steps up to a deliberately-painful pace. It helped, a little; it was hard to feel his hip burning through the ache of his overworked legs, and so the closer he got to the house, the faster he went.

"You sure, Goldie?" Apple Bloom asked softly, trailing after him.

"Sure." Golden Delicious hissed, almost sobbing with relief as he felt the wooden planks of the porch steps under his hooves. Thank the goddess. "Gotta go - wash up." He mumbled, keeping his head down as he fairly bolted through the kitchen, his legs hurting all the worse now that they were so close to relief.

Apple Bloom said something behind him, and someone else answered, but Golden couldn't be bothered at the moment; his only goal was his bed. The rest of the house passed in a blur, even the stairs, and within moments he landed in his four-poster, never more grateful for anything else before in his life. He'd known hard work on the PCS Yellow Flower, of course, but this apple-bucking business was in a league of its own.

He'd only intended to lie down for a few minutes, regaining the strength to go down and eat lunch, but the moment his head touched the pillow, the dream attacked.

"C'mon, Delicious! He's beating ya, he's beating ya!"

"I'm bucking as fast as I can!"

This time the dream was in the first person; he could feel the words as they slipped out of his mouth, but he had no real control over them. It would have been less alien, of course, if this had been a real dream, and not some kind of nightmarish fever-vision. There were two stallions in front of him, as real as the Apple family he'd just met, cheering him on as he - bucked apples, apparently, which had to be what that solid feeling under his hind hooves was. Another stallion to his left bucked a second tree, breath coming in sharp, determined gasps as he filled his own basket.

"C'moooon, you can do it Delish!" One of them cheered, and Golden Delicious recognized him - a long-time family friend, Tart Green, and his cousin Apple Strudel. Both members of the apple clan, but far-off relations who came to town for the annual reunion. He'd known them since he was a little foal, playing under the shade of the apple trees that their parents were bucking. They always came together for the annual harvest, since many hooves made for light work.

No, he tried to say, but no words came; somewhere, deep inside, he could feel himself struggling, even as his dream-body ceaselessly bucked apples. No, this isn't real, these aren't my memories! But no sound came out, despite how he fought. Despite his exhaustion, he thrashed ceaselessly, his throat raw from screaming that he couldn't hear.

"Golden, Golden! You've got him beat-"

"Golden!"

"- just a couple more apples! A few more-"

"Golden, what's the matter? Why is he-"

"- good bucks and you've got this in the-"

"-you need to wake up!"

Golden Delicious awoke to the sound of his own screams.