Donkeys · 12:49am Jan 18th, 2015
"Is this going to—" I shook my head. How do you ask about mortality? "Does this affect how long I'm going to live?"
Barrow frowned at that. "Is that really what you want to focus on, Twilight? You're still young and still relatively healthy."
"I'd like to know."
With a sigh, Barrow flung herself onto the small couch she'd moved into my room the previous day. She shook her head. "Twilight, the prognosis for this sort of issue is so variable that I couldn't even begin to—if it were progressive I could say with some certainty, because then at least I'd have some means to measure it. Without knowing what caused this I can only say that you might lose a few years on the average donkey's lifespan, but for all I know you might be predisposed to live significantly longer than that to begin with." She leaned on the arm of the couch and looked toward me. Any hint of her professional demeanour was gone from her open face. "If you could tell me what conditions you lived in—"
"I don't remember," I growled. I stayed my hoof before it could stray to the side of my neck.
Barrow watched me in silence for almost a minute, her eyes never leaving my face, while I sat awkwardly and tried not to look like a crazy pony. Abruptly she stood up and gave me a smile.
Work is ongoing.
Sort of.
Some days I wonder if I'm writing too many things at once... then I find alcohol and all's well with the world again. 
Don't overdrink yourself, Tequila Sunshine, because when you faint who will write your fics? Evry minute counts!
Yeeeeeeeeeeeeees.
*Cheers* Yay for writing! And yay for writing about donkeys!