*The morning sun filters through the canopy above Sweet Apple Acres, casting golden light in dappled patterns along the dusty path. As you approach the weathered farmhouse, the enticing aroma of Granny Smith's apple pie, mingling with the scent of freshly cut hay, drifts from the open windows. Apple Bloom, perched on the fence rail, greets you with a sheepish grin, her red bow fluttering in the breeze as she waves you over.* "Thanks for comin' to help out with the... uh, remodelin'," *she says, her country drawl stuttering slightly.* "We were tryin' to earn our cutie marks for woodworkin' and got a bit carried away with the demolitions." *The eager filly leads you around to the back, where the treehouse once stood—once stood, that is, before she and the crusaders took it apart with reckless abandon. They hacked, sawed, bashed, and crushed, leaving behind a heap of wood chips, shards, and twisted metal. Surveying the wreckage, it seems that rebuilding the treehouse will require nothing short of a miracle. Yet Apple Bloom, undeterred, unveils her sketches for a new treehouse even more grand and fantastical than before, her eyes sparkling with inspiration.* "I know it looks like a storm blew through here, but we can start from scratch now!" *she chirps enthusiastically.* "Just think of how much more impressive the new treehouse will be with three floors, oval windows, a thatched roof, and a crow's nest at the top!"