Rarity’s hoof hovered just short of knocking, frozen in silent uncertainty. Why does Twilight think Spike will trust me of all ponies with this?! She sighed, somewhat regretting her offer to help.

“I think he’s sneaking in a marefriend,” Twilight had said. “My wards aren’t triggering, but he might know ways around them. And he won’t say anything.”

A vaguely feminine utterance jarred Rarity back to the present. She tensed, not wanting to catch Spike at an indelicate moment. But feeling obligated to return with something, she gently turned the knob with her magic, nudged it open a crack, and peeked.

A sepulchral shriek split the silence, from a moving… lifesize… drawing… of a skeleton-mare. She had a long grey mane, heavy black boots, and an axe as massive as her scowl.

Rarity slammed the door, backpedaling. “Twilight won’t believe this.” She paused. “Wait… really? That’s his type, after me?!”