Lofty doesn’t reply to that. The sky flashes white and a roar of thunder sweeps them up. “Are you sure you wanna do this?”
“Yes!” Her voice cracks.
“Holly. I don’t think you do.”
“I do.” It comes far weaker this time. Her grip on the wheel falters.
Lofty sighs. She puts a hoof on Holiday’s shoulder. “It’s not too late to turn around,” she whispers.