It's a day like any other. The birds are chirping, the sun is shining, and Moonie is being rather quiet so that means something is about to or has gone wrong. Idly, you wander about the house looking for her before you hear her and Trixie's voice echoing in the bathroom. Curious, you eavesdrop outside the door.
"There's no way that'll happen," Moonie scoffs in a derisive tone.
"It's true. Trixie has seen the future herself. One day we'll all be eating out of tubes, it'll be quick and have all our daily nutrients in one little tube."
"But... Why?"
Trixie shrugs, "Why not? If you're getting all your protein and whatever in a tube then you don't have to eat veggies. Why, you could eat candy all day because you've already gotten everything else."
Moonie brightens up at this, "That makes sense."
The two are quiet for a moment as they look over a tube of toothpaste.
"Try it."
"Why?"
"To practice," Trixie answers with a condescending eye roll.
"Why don't you do it?"
"Trixie does every day, saves time on brushing."
"You better not let Anon hear that," mumbles Moonie maliciously.
Trixie stares at her carefully. To which Moonie stares back so now the scene looks like some sort of old western stand-off. Neither will do anything, probably. They seem fond of daring the other to strike first so they can tattle. You have to muffle yourself by biting down on your fist when you very nearly laugh at how alike they are in their childish natures.
"Eat the tube."
"No," Moonie states defiantly, "You eat the tube."
"Why? It's just tube food," snickers Trixie.
"Stop saying tube so much."
"Fiiine, you don't have to eat the tube."
And then Trixie gives a little smirk. The kind where you know, because you appraise her face without getting instantly riled up like Moonie, that it's just an attempt to goad Moonie into a reaction. That she falls for. From Moonie's point of view, it seems like in that little smirk, that Trixie is arrogantly patting herself on the back for a small victory.
And so in her defiance to refuse Trixie any kind of victory, Moonie downs the entire tube of toothpaste. Though it's a bit late, that's when you step in.
"Spit that out," you command.
The two spin to face you with poor looks of innocence.
"Don't even try, I was listening. Now spit."
Stubborn as ever, Moonie swallows.
"The fair and innocent Trixie didn't do anything, she did it on her own."
"I swear it's like I've adopted two kids," you think to yourself before saying, "Too much of that stuff can be a poison, you know."
Both visibly pale.
"Tube."
Moonie gives you the tube and you read the ingredients. While you're not exactly sure of the effects of many foods or chemicals on horses, much less technicolour magical ones, the rule of thumb seems to be that most ways things affect you do the same to them.
"No fluride, but... Sorbitol."
"What's that?" the two squeak in unison.
"Just a syrupy alcohol thing to make toothpaste taste sweet. But in higher dosages... Well, it works as a laxative."
Trixie turns to Moonie to give a loud "HAH!" right in her face. Moonie just looks down in defeat.
"And as punishment for getting her to do it, you'll be cleaning any mess she makes."
The colour completely drains from Trixie as Moonie glances at her from the corner of her eyes while sharp teeth in a grin wider than her jaw. Yes, there would be mess. Now you do feel a little, kind of, sorta bad for making that the punishment. Though only a little.