Twilight had to admit that for all her meekness, Fluttershy’s hooves were skilled against her tense back.
“There, there my little alicorn. Momma will make you feel all better,” Fluttershy crooned.
That drew Twilight out of her relaxed stupor. “Huh?”
Fluttershy’s massage abruptly stopped, and she hid her face behind her wings. “Eep! I’m... am... sorry Twi-Twilight. I usually only do this to animals. Force of habit.”
“What about Rainbow?” Twilight sat up from the table and made an experimental flap.
Fluttershy snorted (or rather she emitted a very small sound that might be considered a snort). “Dashie gets herself hurt more than Mr. Bear and Mr. Bear is always bothering Mrs. Bee and her hive for honey. They never listen!” Her exclamation was only slightly louder than her speaking voice.
Twilight smiled patiently. “Well, I’m glad for the practice she gave you. My wing feels great now. You saved me a trip to Redheart and between you two, you have better bedside manners.”
Fluttershy beamed at the compliment. “It’s the least I could do to help you, Twilight. I’m just sorry that I can’t help you with your... umm... what was it again?”
“The comet.”
“Oh... is there one? I... don’t go out at nights much.”
Twilight thought about pointing out the comet and its once-in-a-millennium nature, but she didn’t want to make Fluttershy feel bad for her avoidant foibles. Instead, Twilight tried to keep a positive tone. “It’ll become a regular thing if I can manage to pull it into orbit. Maybe you could see it one night when you’re ready.”
Fluttershy nodded politely. A gesture that Twilight often recognized when a pony tried their best to accommodate her. It usually took an imminent threat to Equestria or one of her friends in danger to turn the Fluttershy into a bold defender.
Inwardly Twilight sighed, explaining the comet to most ponies had often brought this kind of response. That attitude of ‘Complicated magical feat? Let Twilight deal with it. It only got worse with the wings, turning into Princess stuff. Let a princess handle it.
A whistling noise sounded from the kitchen, and Fluttershy perked. “Oh! Would you like some tea?”
Twilight considered before asking, “Is it decaf?”
Fluttershy wrung her tail in-between her hooves. “I don’t buy any other kind…”
“Decaf is fine! I’m trying to cut back on the caffeine,” assured Twilight before putting her head back down into the pillows to wait. Her wing still felt a little stiff but improving. It was nice not having anything to worry ab—
“So, Princess Twilight is trying to join the big mare’s club.”
Twilight groaned and pushed her head further under the pillows. She had hoped her stay would have been short enough to avoid this possibility.
“Harmph! Is that any way to greet a friend? Which princess lesson is that?”
Twilight quietly counted to ten before lifting her head from the pillows. “Hello, Discord.”
The Draconequus looked as he often looked: a confused jumble of limbs and parts with a permanent smirk caused by his snaggletooth. He fingered a medallion hung around his neck. “Where’s yours?” He said in a hurt voice, as if he didn’t just conjure it out of thin air moments ago.
“What? That? I threw it ou— “ Twilight paused, then forced a smile “—on a shelf at the castle,” she amended.
Discord snapped his fingers and Twilight felt a heaviness around the neck as her half of the trinket flashed into existence.
“Can’t say that I thought it was a very princessy place to put your jewelry, but what do I know of princess things?” Discord said with a knowing grin.
Twilight tried to not let her nose crinkle up too much from the smell coming off the thing.
“I certainly wouldn’t give a friend a task and then not tell her a thing about it. That’s just cruel.” Discord continued with his lazy eye giving a wild circular swirl.
“You pretended to be sick to make me and Cadance fly halfway across Equestria,” muttered Twilight.
“Well, we weren’t quite friends then like we are now!” said Discord, winding himself over Twilight to press his cheek against hers. He reached for her medallion and put them together. “Besides, I knew you could do it, and so you did!”
Twilight snorted and hoofed him away. “And the princesses are confident that I can do it and I will do it.”
“Mmm hmm. Are you sure you wouldn’t want a bit of help?” asked Discord before snapping his clawfingers. With a flash, a hoofball sized model of the moon appeared, spinning above his pointed digit. “For us supremely magical beings it’s so easy and expected of us to do such hugely amazing things. It would be rather embarrassing if you couldn’t.”
Twilight blinked and looked towards the window. The sky outside had darkened noticeably when Discord made the moon appear on his finger. She squinted and tried to follow the line of his magic, but the chaotic nature of his spellcraft was a muddled mess. Still... It had to be an illusion.
Right?
Discord caught her expression and with a smug grin flicked his fingers. The moon disappeared and the night sky outside lit up once more. “I’d be a better mentor for you than cakebutt and moonbutt any day. I could make the learning oh so fun.”
“Why do you even care what I do with the comet? Isn’t it all the same to you?” Twilight pointed out. Discord’s general indifference seemed like a promising angle to bank on.
Discord reached with his own pawhand and drew out his nose until he resembled an elephant. “In the long long long scheme of things it helps to know the Who’s Who. Especially when somepony is out to make herself an even bigger who.” He waggled his trunk at her and trumpeted it.
Twilight tried to keep her expression stony. The best way to handle these bizarre, nonsensical asides was to just simply ignore them. “I can get by on my own.” Though even as she said it, she couldn’t help the bitterness in her voice. Visiting Luna tonight still felt like conceding that she couldn’t completely make it herself.
Discord smirked as he pulled on his nose and rubberbanded it back to its usual shape. “Remind me how keeping to yourself worked in the past, eh princess of friendship?”
Twilight’s teeth ached from the grinding, but made her drippingly cheerful. “Sorry! I wasn’t aware I was talking to an expert on friendship, long term or otherwise. I guess the castle just forgot to put your chair at the map table. You know how fickle castles are.”
“Oh, Twilight, you’re far too nice and adorable to be sarcastic. You should read up.” Discord snapped his fingers, and a book appeared. Twilight shuffled back to dodge getting bonked on the head by it.
Twilight looked down at the cover. It had a picture of a laughing Discord in front of a chalkboard drawing of Twilight with the title ‘Sarcasm for Incredibly Intelligent and Introverted Mares’. In the drawing, she wore a dummy cone and when she looked back at Discord, she felt one on her actual head. Her teeth ached again.
“Why here is something I can help you with: Have you even put a thought to what to call the thing once you catch it?”
Twilight brushed the cone off her head and grunted. She’d always thought of it as ‘The Comet’ aside from when her frustrations put other, less polite labels to that chunk of ice and rock. “No.”
Discord curled a claw through his beard, taking her non-answer in stride. “Mmm! How about... Twilight’s Tinkle? Seeing how it’s all wet and a falling star.”
“For a being thousands of years old, you’re pretty foalish,” Twilight replied, rolling her eyes.
Discord grinned and took it as a compliment. “As they say, you’re only as young as you feel. Take Celly! She’s pulled some terrrrific pranks.”
With a flash, he disappeared and reappeared next to Twilight in a jester’s outfit and began juggling. “Why, there was this time where she sent six ordinary ponies to mop up a millennium old feud… twice!” As he spoke, he added a random item from the room to the circling motion.
“But then that got a little boring. So, get this, for the third time she sends only one pony all the way to the frozen north when another ole problem poofed back into existence. That poor little mare! Fluttershy told me how lucky she was to have brought her pet dragon along.” His claw squeezed one of the clown horns he juggled for a comical honk.
Discord went on with a broad smile. “And she even went and brought chaotic vines to tie her and her sister… oh wait, that was one of mine, wasn’t it?” He tugged on his own beard thoughtfully while the items continued juggling without the help of his claw and paw.
“You forgot the one where she put some faith in a draconequus to do the right thing, only to have him let her and the rest of the ponies down!” Twilight retorted hotly. She knocked away the juggling distraction away with her magic. “I know what you’re trying to imply, but Celestia is not you. She wouldn’t put Equestria at risk just to entertain herself. She’s better than that and something I really wish you were better at, too. We’ve all given you plenty of friendship and forgiveness including Celestia. Think on it the next time you prank our goodwill!”
Discord recoiled more from Twilight’s words than her magical swatting of his props. For once the draconequus was quiet, face set with a small frown. Twilight rarely saw guilt on that face and it brought a twinge of guilt herself for maybe being too harsh.
Almost.
Straightening in place, Discord flicked his claw, and the objects returned to their proper positions around the room while he himself re-appeared without the costume on.
“Well… you certainly have the burning royal stare down!” Discord fanned himself under the heat of Twilight’s ire. Fanning by turning his paw and claw into actual fans. “Sheesh, I’m trying to help. I thought a curious mare like yourself might have wondered why, after all this time, Equestria has been getting more interesting by the year. Been keeping your Saturdays free lately?”
The baiting was all the more irritating for its truthfulness. Twilight had considered that same question herself often enough. Since the time she left Canterlot as a unicorn life had gotten exponentially complicated. No pony had heard of changelings or wrote about them in anything other than storybooks. Cheerilee had used Discord’s statue as a prop for parables on harmony. Nightmare Moon was a local legend associated with a silly holiday about candy and dressing up.
Yet all of those things had become serious threats to Equestria, each event a potential apocalypse if the cutie map’s alternate timelines could be believed. Twilight’s nose scrunched at the thought.
Discord grinned at her expression. “But as you say, I’m sure ol’ Sun rump has shared every one of her plans for the comet. Like why she gave it a little bump here and there... oooh starting around three years ago.” He reached out with a clawhand to snag the edge of Twilight’s wing and gave it a pointed tug. “What a difference just three years makes, hmm?”
Twilight sent a spark of magic to slap his claw away and readied a fresh glare when his statement finally registered. “What... She did? What do you—”
“Is everypony alright in here? I heard a crash and shouting,” asked Fluttershy as she winged in from the kitchen, holding a tray in her hooves.
Discord immediately appeared beside her, dressed in a valet’s outfit. “Fluttershy, my dear! Let me get that for you.”
“Oh! Hello Discord!” Fluttershy glanced to Twilight then back to Discord with a sidelong glance. Twilight’s flustered appearance and Discord’s nonchalant smugness were an easy tip off.
Fluttershy’s voice took on a matronly sternness. “Now, Discord. You weren’t teasing her about flying again, were you? Twilight tries very hard.” The statement made Twilight even more flustered. Defended on flying by Fluttershy.
Discord smiled and waved his pawhand. The nearby tea kettle animated and poured itself. “Not at all,” murmured Discord while throwing a wink at Twilight. “Our princess has been flying so high, I thought she could use a reminder about getting too close to the sun.”
With no hope of getting any more answers from Discord with Fluttershy around, Twilight eventually excused herself and headed home. She ended up walking the way there. She needed the time to mull over her thoughts.
It tempted her to write off Discord as a prankster who would tell any fib for his jollies, but Twilight couldn’t deny that the suggestions he’d made had some insidious truth to it. Was Twilight’s life planned from the moment Celestia laid eyes on her?
Twilight found that implausible. Celestia couldn’t have engineered every crisis she and her friends gone through. The logistics alone made it simply impossible to plan for all the coincidences involved.
Could it be some kind of time magic? Twilight was capable of such spells as a unicorn, and so was Starlight. What would that be to an alicorn? Although, Twilight’s own meeting with her future self proved time travel had a certain futility behind it. Meanwhile, the aberrations with the Cutie Map were of the repeating loop variety and not much good for predicting.
“No, that’s not it,” mumbled Twilight as she stepped past the doors of her crystalline home. Lost in thought, she walked on autopilot towards her study. When she reached the familiar desk, she drew out a scroll and a quill. She needed to get to the bottom of this problem.
Dear Princess Celestia,
Tell me why you moved the comet—
Twilight paused. That was way too direct and accusatory sounding. She used an ink removing spell to cleanly erase without spoiling the parchment and put the quill to it again:
Please, let me know if moving the comet was actually a test for me—
Twilight considered that sentence. If Celestia answered that the comet was a test and she moved it for that very reason, what actual difference would it make? Twilight had already been acting as if it were a test, despite every assurance from Luna and Celestia that it wasn’t.
Don’t you trust me? Tell me the truth.
That thought expressed her feelings, but she couldn’t send that. She sighed and stared at the page, frustrated.
It took Spike a second prod at her shoulder to get her full attention.
“Hellooooo, Twilight. Geez, what’s gotten into you?”
Twilight sat straight as she jolted out of her fugue. “Oh! Sorry Spike, I had something on my mind.” She blinked at Spike standing on her table. Evidently, he had to climb up for her to even notice him.
Spike scratched his neck. “Well, you do have the whole giant snowball in the sky thing, I guess. Hey… what’s this about?” He gave the letter by his foot a glance.
Twilight set the quill down and sighed. “I’m not sure if Celestia has been completely honest with me about the comet.”
No denying the small emotional sting she felt at that. If Celestia couldn’t share the entire story now, then when? What else might the solar alicorn be keeping back? How much of the motherly attention is just a form of manipulation? Twilight found herself afraid of that more than anything else.
Spike frowned. “Who gave you that idea?”
Twilight had a brief coughing fit as she began studying the crystal ceiling.
Spike’s frown deepened. “Sorry, what’s that? It almost sounded like you said ‘Discord’ in the middle of all that coughing.”
Twilight pursed her lips.
It was the dragon’s turn to sigh, his voice taking on a patient tone, honed over years of Twilight’s freakouts. “Are you seriously going to believe a Chaos Spirit over Celestia?”
Twilight sighed again. “Okay. Yes, it sounds bad. But remember, she was the one who told me I was worrying over nothing when she knew about Nightmare Moon's return.”
“Technically, she told you to make friends,” Spike answered pragmatically. “If she told you: ‘Hey Twilight, Nightmare Moon is real, and she’s coming back tonight. Also, make friends because it’s the only way of defeating her.’ How would that have turned out?”
Twilight thought on that and her first encounter with Ponyville’s roster of colorful personalities. “I’d probably have fallen over with anxiety and stress.”
Spike scratched his chin. “Maybe this is the same? She thought you’d do better if you weren’t stressed out over it?” He gave a little snap with his claw as he said, “She’s never really doubted you. Like ever. Believe me, in all these letters, she’s never put you down. Even when you’re being all fritzy maned.”
Lighting her horn, Twilight lifted Spike up and brought him close for a hug. “Maybe you’re right. Though, after all we’ve been through, a little faith would be nice. I mean. I don’t freak out that much anymore, right?”
Spike hugged her back before immediately looking away at her question. “Ummm...”
“Really! Still?”
Spike opened his mouth and let the question linger overlong before it reminded him. “Oh! Speaking of letters, I almost forgot! You got one from the princess.” With a deft sleight of claw, he produced a scroll.
Twilight nearly dropped him. ”What? Celestia wrote me?” she said with all the trepidation about planned coincidences coming back to her, though when she lifted the scroll up she saw a silver moon with a blue ribbon.
“No no. The other princess.” Spike corrected.
Dear Princess Twilight,
For our meeting, I will lower the wards to allow you to teleport once the moon has reached its zenith. I may have some information that is of use to you.
Yours,
Princess Luna
Twilight yelped as she remembered. “That’s right! I said I would meet her tonight. Ooh! How could I have forgotten?!” She silently cursed Discord a second time for filling her head full of worry.
Spike looked more confused than ever. “Is it trouble?”
“Yes! Well... no. I just can’t be tardy!”
With a purple flash, Twilight teleported away, leaving Spike to sigh and make his way to the broom closet and begin sweeping up the scattered papers.
Without the impeding barrier of the wards Twilight’s teleport went smoothly. Hard to believe that it’d been just a day and a half since that night with Celestia. Fretting and worry were among the most powerful variants of time magic.
Instead of Celestia and cookies, Luna’s room with its inky interior stood before Twilight like the mouth of a cave.
Twilight took a moment to get her bearings, feeling some of the night’s chill ruffle her wings. A glance up showed the moon a few degrees past its peak. The wards were still down, so she couldn’t be too late.
She waffled at the entrance a little longer before squaring her shoulders and taking a step forward. She tried to tell herself how she’d literally gone to the den of dragons before. Luna didn’t even breathe fire! How bad could it be?
The dark bedroom brought a kind of otherworldly quality. From what moonlight snuck in from the balcony, she saw the decor was a prominent blue on blue theme with the occasional crescent moon and star iconography.
“Welcome, Twilight.”
Twilight startled when a blue shimmer lit, and Luna’s face glowed in the dark cast in magical light. The night princess had been sitting in the near pitch blackness at the study’s table.
“Oh! Princess... I um… didn’t see you there.” Twilight heard the waver in her voice and felt foalish. Since when did she become like a filly on nightmare night to be so afraid of Luna?
“Our apologies. I do not need as much light as others.” The curtains over the windows twitched open underneath Luna’s horn magic and the room brightened with enough moonshine to see by.
With light, the room looked ordinary and Luna simply a mare, not that much bigger than Cadance. Her smile was warm and welcoming.
“So... your letter mentioned you had some extra information?” Twilight asked and took a cushion-seat opposite of Luna.
Luna’s smile turned wane at the edges. “‘Twas a discovery of mine after me and my sister asked you about the comet. Have you made any progress?”
“Plenty of attempts, results on the other hoof…”
A knock at the door paused their conversation. Some of Luna’s night maids bringing them a service. Twilight looked curiously at the elusive and quiet bat-ponies as they worked to bring tea and moon-themed snacks. Twilight reasoned that even past midnight, it was likely Luna’s brunch time.
After the brief intermission, Luna dipped her head to the side and took a sip from her cup. “I have been writing monthly updates for some time now to the Canterlot Astronomical Society. ‘Twas one of my duties before my banishment.”
Twilight sat upright, ears perked. “There is an astronomical society?! Here? In Canterlot?” she blurted, incredulous that she could have missed such a thing.
Luna cleared her throat and continued past the interruption. “My correspondence with them had been mainly one sided. I thought it strange that I did not hear from them when the comet appeared in the sky. ‘Tis usually something they would note.”
“I went in pony to speak my mind to the current director. Imagine my annoyance at finding the ‘current’ director dead these last four hundred years.”
Twilight crammed a moon shaped cookie in her maw to choke off her sudden laughter. She mumbled, “W-Who was getting the letters?”
“A pair of very confused scribes at the ministry of public zoning,” said Luna with absolute deadpan before sipping again from her cup.
“For the last—” Twilight mentally counted, “—fifty moons? Why didn’t anypony tell you?”
Luna gazed on with another one of those steady looks. “Recall my initial arrival to Ponyville.”
Twilight remembered a lot of shouting and ponies bowing. Mainly out of fright out of the thousand-year legend made flesh. “So... they just got these letters—”
“—and likely thought their princess left her wits behind on the moon, yes.” Luna finished before shaking her head. “I do not place blame on my sister for letting some of these departments fall to ruin. To manage Equestria alone was a severe burden she has had to live with until only recently. You know well enough that even alicorns can only do so much in the hours afforded us.”
Twilight nodded with a thoughtful expression. Since Discord’s prodding, Celestia’s treatment of her had been something she’d reflected on. She had seen and spoke with Celestia nearly every day since she was a foal. The sun princess always at hoof, seemingly never too busy to answer a question or a letter. Twilight might have occasionally resented some of the more oblique answers given, but Celestia did answer.
How many ponies in Equestria had a direct line to their ruler along with her immediate attention? Did every time Twilight tugged on Celestia’s hoof mean some other thing went without her focus? The idea had a way of making Twilight feel very special and guilty at the same time.
“I had not realized how much knowledge of the stars had dwindled. I never thought there would be a time where lessons ponies learned in elementary classes would be forgotten knowledge.” Luna shook her head. “You have my sincerest apologies if I made your task seem inconsequential or matter-of-course.”
Twilight considered the idea of hidden knowledge and asked, “I remember Celestia mentioning something about variables in her letter? Is there something basic I’m missing?” Mentally, Twilight kicked herself for taking Celestia’s corrected math at face value. The magic seemed more important at the time.
Luna glanced towards the balcony and with a practiced eye, measured the inclination of the moon. “‘Tis not something easily spoken of,” said Luna after a pause. “It would have to be something I show you. But the task would require more hours of the night than we have now. Perhaps we can return tomorrow at an earlier time?”
Twilight shifted her posture some, hesitant to lose yet another day. Once again, frustrated at being late. This is what tardy ponies deserve!, she thought to herself viciously.
Luna picked up on that fidget. “Mmm.” A smile touched on her features as she said, “Hungry for a little homework?”
“N-No! I mean... If you had something that you think would help... I wouldn’t mind,” Twilight said, blushing. Recalling too clearly her youth where she got plenty of venomous stares from her classmates for asking such a thing. She never really did understand why someponies got so upset. Wasn’t it normal to want to learn a topic as quickly as possible?
Luna laughed. “Oh Twilight, I jest. This is quite an experience for me, too. I never did have students like my sister and I am afraid I have nothing quite like a proper lesson plan made.” She moved from the table over to the bookshelf, murmuring, “I did consider a few titles to help you along, however.” Luna’s horn lit and a pair of books slid out to float on over to the table. “These should do for now. A stopgap until I can research how to be a better instructor.”
Twilight marshalled herself to not snatch the books out of the air with her own magic. Already she could tell by their bindings and the subtle preservation enchantments that they must be very old indeed. The first book she gave a cursory glance at. A reference text on genealogy? Okay. Could be interesting.
The second brought much more excitement. Thick, heavy and with that aged paper smell about it. Twilight could nearly envision the ancient oak it came from.
Opening a new book was often an adventure in itself. She felt herself grinning as she lifted the tome and looked at the cover, puzzling out the fanciful script on it.
Twilight’s mood immediately plummeted when she did. “Principa Magicka? You’re giving me Principa Magicka?” she said, wounded.
Luna’s smile grew to smirking levels before she replied, “Never discount the fundamentals. It would do well to brush up on it.”
“B... but...” Twilight despaired. Principa Magicka was the one magic textbook that every unicorn (and even some pegasai and earth ponies) were made to read. The kind of standby book that every instructor in every grade of schooling liked to assign, either out of a misplaced idealism of trying to find deeper meaning in a centuries old text or more often, as a punishment to the class. Twilight must have written at least ten term papers on this book. She had even considered using it for her final thesis, if only because she could recite the damn thing backwards and blindfolded.
“Tis an earlier edition than you are used to. Why… ‘tis the same copy I used when under the tutelage of Star Swirl,” said Luna while standing up from the cushion. “I will not expect a report on it, but perhaps you might find it enlightening for a day.”
The thought of Star Swirl mitigated some of Twilight’s earlier disappointment. As Luna rose, Twilight hesitated and attempted a bow, unsure of just how to treat Luna now that she was in the role of her teacher.
Luna caught Twilight’s muzzle with a wingtip before she lowered it too far. “None of that, Twilight. Know that ‘tis my pleasure to help you. Of all ponies, you are the one I would consider my best friend. Please, let there be no formality between us.”
“Really? Me? Your best?” A small twinge of guilt welled up in Twilight as she hadn’t exactly gone out of her way to write to Luna as much as she did to Celestia.
Luna stepped around and moved towards the balcony, looking upwards towards the moon. She eventually turned her head to look back at Twilight. Her smile still showed warmth, but now mixed with hints of sadness.
“After a thousand years of exile, anypony I have known has long since passed. Had you not chosen to help me on Nightmare Night, things may have become far worse than they were before,” explained Luna before returning her gaze to the moon.
Twilight hadn’t even considered that. At the time, it seemed like a simple mis-understanding that she felt like she needed to clear up. But what if Luna had gone back still believing ponies feared and hated her? Twilight aching with sympathy as she herself wasn’t a stranger from being excluded. “It doesn’t have to be like that anymore. All of Ponyville came to help you when you needed it.”
“Oh yes, do not mistake me. I am eternally grateful to your friends and every pony in Ponyville. But to whom I have to thank for making such Bond in the first place? You were the first to give me a chance.” Luna’s smirk returned, and she announced, “You will not escape thy title ‘o best of friends!”
The teasing and the dramatics brought a giggle out of Twilight. How hard it was to remember that famous ponies were still ponies with needs and desires of their own. Perhaps she ought to have expected it with how she’d already had to fend off plenty of grandiose assumptions about herself and her friends. What must it be like for somepony so legendary that they had storybooks written after them? That olden speech felt as much of a front as the Royal Canterlot voice to meet expectations.
When Twilight looked up, she noticed the barest bit of movement, betrayed by Luna’s mane’s endless eddies. ‘She was looking at you. She’s also been at the balcony for quite a while’ .
An irony that Luna could be more genuine in the dreamworld than society allowed her in the real one.
Luna had called Twilight on her bravery, but it still took an effort to tamp down that instinct. Oh, to be Pinkie Pie, just for once and not have to worry over appearances! Despite it, Twilight crossed over to where Luna stood and slipped in beside her. Twilight leaned her shoulder close and used her wing to give a hug on the taller mare. “I am happy and honored to be your bestie, Luna. That’s a better reward than some silly comet.”
Luna stiffened with surprise at the touch before melting against her. With her cheek against Twilight’s, the smile she made was felt more than seen. “Thank you. For this and more,” murmured Luna, “But you ought to go now... before it gets too late and... any rain... starts...”
Twilight felt a trickle of wetness on the cheek to go with the smile.