//------------------------------// // Grief // Story: Nothing Without Me // by chillbook1 //------------------------------// "I shouldn't be here." Garrus stopped just a few steps from Raven's door, glancing back at Moon Shine. Luna seemed to want to stay as far away from the situation as possible, something Garrus couldn't exactly blame her for. The coming conversation was bound to be difficult and unpleasant for all parties involved. Yet, in spite of that fact, perhaps even because of it, Garrus knew that it was a conversation that needed to be had. "You're her friend, same as me," said Garrus, adjusting the collar of his stiff, scratchy rented suit, the only formal wear he had from home. "But I'm not. Not like you are. Inkwell tolerates me, she actually likes you," said Luna. She kept looking over her shoulder as if afraid of being followed. Her Moon Shine disguise normally conveyed a sense of ambivalence and confidence, but now, in this black dress and weighed down by her saddlebags, Luna looked anything but confident. "I barely know her compared to you." "That's not true. And even if it was… I bet she could go for some friendly faces right about now." Garrus sighed, approaching Raven's door and giving it a firm series of knocks before Luna talked him out of it. "It's open." She didn't sound very good at all. Her voice was but a croak, every ounce of energy gone from her tone. Garrus shared a concerned look with Luna before slowly pushing open the door and stepping into Raven's apartment. "Hey. Make yourself at home." Raven never turned around from her bar, her focus entirely dedicated on the stacks of documents and letters in front of her. Garrus slowly closed the door, almost afraid of pursuing. "Hey, Rave. You bailed pretty quick after the service," said Garrus carefully. "You okay?" "I'm fine. Just didn't feel like hanging around while everyone cried or whatever. I had a lot of work piling up, anyway." Raven lifted a sheet of parchment, giving it a quick once over before scribbling her signature and stamping it with Castle Canterlot's royal seal. "There's still a lot to do for this debt forgiveness thing." "You're… Working?" "If I don't do this stuff, it won't get done." Raven moved on to the next document, this one receiving just a brief look before being discarded so Raven could begin again. "The banks are running me around in circles for proper documentation, despite the fact I've sent it in multiple times. I'll need to pay a visit to the Treasurer…" "Maybe Tia's dumb finance thing can wait?" offered Luna. "I don't know about you two scrubs, but I could go for a round or two." Garrus elbowed her in the ribs, which seemed to remind Luna of the situation. "More importantly, though… Shouldn't you be, like… Mourning?" "I am. Everyone deals with grief differently. We all have our coping mechanisms." Raven sighed, shaking her head at the stubborn legislation she was dealing with, removing her glasses for a moment to combat her oncoming migraine. "This is mine, and I ask that you respect it." "Sure, but…" Garrus neared Raven, taking note of how unruly and unkempt her hair was, how ragged and shuddering her breaths were. "You wanna talk about stuff?" "Honest answer?" said Raven. "Not in the slightest. No offense, and I really appreciate you two taking the time to come and see me, but… I really just need some space." "You sure?" asked Garrus. "Not to sound like an asshole, but you look…" "Like hammered shit? Yeah, well, go figure. Trust me, I'm fine." Garrus gave Luna a look that begged for help, which the princess tried her hardest to ignore. Soon, Luna could avoid the responsibility no longer, and she trudged up to Raven at her bar. In two quick flurries of magic, she set her saddlebags onto the surface of the bar and removed her Moon Shine disguise, then took a seat beside Raven. "So," said Luna, visibly uncomfortable with the situation. "I'm pretty shit-tier at this kind of thing. So. Sorry, I guess." "Thank you, Luna, but you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I appreciate your good intentions, you don't have to make things weird or uncomfortable. The thought is enough." "Tell that to the Griffon. He's the one strong-arming me into acting like we're actually friends all of a sudden." Luna nudged her bag forward, pulling out a large produce bag. "I, uh… bought you more avocados. Sorry about the guacamole thing." Raven glanced over to the bag, letting out a shaky, tired, dark chuckle. "This is like 5 pounds of avocados, Luna. I didn't need anywhere near this much." For the first time since her friends' arrival, Raven actually looked up, allowing Luna to see her baggy, puffy eyes, gone red from crying. "It was no big deal in the first place. If you didn't eat the guac, it would've gone bad soon anyway." "Well, now you have plenty to make more for me to eat." Luna gave a tiny smirk. "More salt and lime this time. The last batch was barely passable." "I'll keep that in mind. If you guys don't mind, I really could use some time alone," said Raven quietly. Luna nodded as she stood up, awkwardly patting Raven on the shoulder. She returned her Moon Shine disguise and joined Garrus near the door. "See you tomorrow?" tried Garrus. It went quiet for a while, a tense moment that clawed at Garrus' heart. But, after nearly a minute of silence, Raven raised her hoof and waved behind her back, her eyes still glued to her work. "Yeah. See you tomorrow. Thanks for swinging by, you guys. I know I don't sound it, but I really do appreciate it. I'm just… I need to focus on this. Please." Garrus nodded, then muttered one last farewell as he ushered Luna out the door. Raven paused just long enough to hear the door click shut, then went right back to writing out her letters to the treasury. The room was silent, save for the scratching of quill on parchment, which was exactly what Raven needed right now. She needed quiet, to focus on her work, so she didn't have to think about her father. The doctors assured Raven that it happened quickly, painlessly. She wasn't even in the hospital when it happened, taking a short trip to gather some creature comforts for her dad, maybe indulge in a hot shower and a night of sleep in a nearby hotel. Birch simply went to sleep and never woke up. Raven didn't typically latch onto small things like that, deciding that it didn't do anypony an overwhelming amount of good, but things were different this time. Now, Raven didn't have much choice but to relish in her silver linings. Knowing that her dad didn't suffer much didn't necessarily make things good, but it definitely made things easier to swallow. Still, the pain was hard to shake. "Focus, Raven." She shook herself firmly, trying to keep her head in the game. There was nothing she could do now but keep moving forward. All she could do is keep going on, because that's what she does. "Goddess above, this loan is going to be the death of me," grumbled Raven. "I need to brush up on the current tax law, maybe there's a precedent…" Raven wasn't looking forward to that. The particular legal codes she'd need were very likely buried relatively deep into the Royal Archives, which meant a visit to the Archivist. The very last person Raven wanted to see at that moment was Harpy. She had been consistently avoiding her mother since the incident in the hospital, with the notable exception of a brief interaction at Birch's wake. No words were shared between the two, and Raven was out of there before Harpy could even attempt to start a conversation. "This is a mess…" Raven sighed, shifting her sights from the legal aspect to the logistics. She would need to move a lot of people around to various other offices in order to get this done, which would require, among other things, a lot of compensation. It wouldn't be easy by any stretch of the imagination, but as long as Raven stayed focused, kept her head in the game, she was sure she could manage. All she had to do was keep her quill moving, stay focused, compartmentalize all of her emotions and fears and regrets and pain. It shouldn't have been this way. Maybe if Raven had been better about keeping in contact with Birch, things could have been differently. Maybe they could have caught it. Maybe they could have gotten Birch better help, or maybe… "Focus." Raven shook herself again, trying to free herself from the thoughts she was having. There wasn't much point in dwelling on maybes and what-ifs. What happened happened, and there was precious little Raven could do to change that. She knew as much. Sulking about what she could have done differently wouldn't bring Birch back. Raven just wanted to work, to shut the world out and keep her hooves moving. She didn't think she could handle any distractions right then. She needed quiet. Solitude. Focus. There was a flash of light from behind Raven, the telltale crack and pop of a teleportation spell. Raven shook her head, not bothering to turn around. She kept her nose in her work, deciding that there wasn't much point in arguing with Luna and Garrus. If they insisted on being there, determined enough to teleport into her home, Raven decided she'd grit and bear it. "Hello again," sighed Raven. "You know, the door was still unlocked. Didn't have to teleport in like that." "I am so very sorry, Raven." Raven was not expecting to hear that voice. She slowly turned on her stool, spinning around to face none other than Princess Celestia. Much like Luna and Garrus before her, Celestia was still wearing her formal attire. Raven wasn't typically the sort to make note of how somepony was dressed, but she noticed that Celestia's ensemble was intentionally plain, unremarkable, forgettable. Though it was ultimately a small detail that not many would notice (indeed, that was the point), Raven appreciated the gesture. Intentionally or otherwise, Celestia had a tendency to attract the spotlight. Considering the events of the day, Raven very much so appreciated Celestia downplaying her own importance, if only for a day. "Oh. I wasn't expecting you, Princess," said Raven. "Thank you for visiting. Your condolences are…" Raven's eyes grew wide as she realized why exactly the princess was apologizing. It was no doubt due to the cargo she was carrying. On her back, slowly rolling and twisting and generally carrying-on, was a mostly unconscious, very intoxicated, Harpy Inkwell. "I am so sorry," said Celestia again. "Son of a bitch…" Raven could feel the fury, the embarrassment, the disgust wash over her, like it was the first time all over again. Not now. Not again. "When she returned from the ceremony, she got into the castle's spirits cellar. I don't know exactly what she drank, or how much, but…" Celestia sighed, shaking her head sadly. "Three sheets to the wind doesn't do the situation justice. I hoped to bring her here so she could perhaps sleep it off while sparing her the indignity of dragging her to someplace else in public." "Set her on the couch," ordered Raven as she dove behind the bar. She returned a short moment later with a bucket that contained a towel, a small bottle of tonic water, a larger bottle of purified, filtered drinking water, as well as a bottle of aspirin and pink bismuth. She brought her little remedy kit over to the couch where Harpy lay, appalled by the state of her mother. Her hair was a mess, and she positively reeked of booze. Raven thought she knew her mother's rock bottom, but this was on a whole other level. "I'm sorry to dump her on you, Raven. She shouldn't be your responsibility," said Celestia. "Especially not now. But I just don't know where else to turn." "I know. It's okay, you made the right call, your majesty." Raven began to distribute her remedies onto the floor, leaving the bucket empty and available for later use. "Have you ever seen her this bad?" "No. Harpy always struggled with this particular demon, but I thought she had it under control by now." Celestia sounded mournful, regretful, as if she felt personally responsible for this whole ordeal. "Gods above… I'm sorry. What can I do to help?" "Not much, I'm afraid. The last time she drank like this… Well, nothing to be done now. Just let her sleep it off, as you said," sighed Raven. "I have her well in-hoof, your majesty. I recommend you return to the castle and clean up whatever mess my mother caused." Raven pinched the bridge of her nose, beyond frustrated with the situation. "I apologize for what my mother has—" "Stop that right now," said Celestia firmly, stealing the rest of Raven's sentence. "This is not for you to apologize for. Harpy's behavior is not your mistake." Raven gave the princess a strange look. For as long as she had known Celestia, she had seemingly ignored Harpy's condition. Raven had previously thought that she was oblivious to the situation, but that quickly became evident that this wasn't the case. "Princess, can I ask you a question?" said Raven. "Of course, my dear," said Celestia with a nod. "Anything for you." "Why did you hire her?" Celestia didn't respond immediately, so Raven continued. "You must have known she was like this. That she was a ticking time bomb. But you hired her anyway. Twice. Why bother dealing with her?" Again, the princess took a long, measured silence before explaining herself. "I understand how it could be easy or appealing to view these matters as more binary and resolute than they actually are. Life is very rarely as simple as saying someone is good or bad," said Celestia carefully. "Harpy wasn't always like this. Perhaps a bit overindulgent in the eyes of many, but nothing I saw to be dangerous or irresponsible. In fact, she slowed down considerably after you were born. Almost quit drinking entirely. Then… the divorce hit her hard. She fell off the wagon in a bad way, but that wasn't until after many years of excellent work from her. She was truly the best advisor I had ever had by that point, and I would look away when she reached for the bottle, because I suppose I thought she had earned it. Living through a struggle I could scarcely comprehend, and yet she still gave me her best… So, that is why I kept Harpy on board, the first time." "And the second? When you appointed her as Archivist?" asked Raven. Celestia took in a deep breath, considering things before answering. “Have you ever found yourself drifting, Ms. Inkwell? Aimless, with no direction?” Raven didn’t give much in the way of an answer, and so the princess continued. “After Luna was gone, I hit rock bottom. Over the next thousand or so years, things only got worse. I put on my phony smile, laughed my phony laugh, let Equestria believe that all was right with their princess, but it was all an act. In truth, I could scarcely get through a night without breaking down and crying like a foal. And, just when I thought I had reached my limit, my breaking point… I met your mother. She helped me through some incredibly difficult times. Harpy almost transcended the role of Advisor, acting as more than that. She was my friend.” Celestia shook her head, freeing herself from the hazy memories and sense of guilt. “And, I made her a promise long ago, that I would do anything I could to help her. Giving her something to occupy her time seemed like the least I could do. And, to be perfectly honest… I had hoped to mend things between you, if possible.” “Mend?” “Please, Raven, I assure you I’m not quite as oblivious as the tabloids make me out to be. I could tell that you and Harpy have had a rocky relationship.” The princess gave her old, troubled friend a glance, wincing with shame and remorse as Harpy groaned and rolled over on the couch. “I never said anything directly, because it wasn’t my place. Not to mention how truly hilarious it would be for me of all people to give anyone family advice.” “I see. I wish… Well. What I wish doesn’t really matter,” sighed Raven. “She’s here now. I’ll do what I can for her. Hopefully I won’t need to take her to the hospital… In any case, I’ll handle my mother for now, and I hope to have this bill ready for review by tomorrow.” “Raven… Please don’t work yourself too hard. After all you’ve been through, you deserve to rest,” said Celestia with a sigh. “I can’t believe you’ve even done this much so soon after losing your father, you should—” “Don’t. Just… Don’t.” Raven closed her eyes, choking back the oncoming sob. She swallowed it all down, letting out only a shaky, trembly breath. “Please. I need this right now. I don’t know what I’d do without it.” Celestia nodded, then crossed the room to place a hoof gently on Raven’s shoulder. After a short, slightly awkward moment of silence, the princess pulled her advisor in close, giving her a warm, genuine hug. “I’ll leave you be, Ms. Inkwell. I wish you and Harpy all the best,” said Celestia. “If you feel so compelled to come in tomorrow, then I look forward to seeing you. If not… I think I’ll find a way to manage.” “Thank you, princess. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning.” Raven chewed gently on her tongue, staring down at the ground. She was spiraling again, falling into a pit that she wasn’t sure she could climb out of. Raven shook herself firmly, bringing herself back down to Earth. “Maybe… Maybe not so bright and early. Maybe closer to noon. I… I need to sleep.” Celestia gave her assistant, her dear friend, a smile and a nod before backing away to prepare her teleport spell. “Whenever you can make it, Ms. Inkwell. And, if you need something, anything at all… I will move heaven and earth for you, my dear. Especially now.” There was a flash and a snap, like the sound of a cracking whip, and the princess vanished in a flare of light. A series of shouts and swears came from the sofa, with Harpy shooting upright on the couch and clutching her head. She looked around, confused, startled, terrified. She was breathing heavily, her demeanor calming slightly when she saw Raven and the assortment of things she had laid out in front of the couch. Harpy sighed, clutching her head and using her magic to raise the water bottle to her lips in a weak, shaky maroon aura. “Gods and spirits all be damned, my head…” groaned Harpy. “What happened?” “You know about as much as I do at this point,” said Raven flatly. “According to Princess Celestia, you drank all of the castle’s liquor and passed out in a corridor some place. Make sure you send her a thank you for carrying your unconscious body all the way to my apartment.” “Shit… That’s what that sound was, her leaving.” Harpy looked ill, hiccuping as she tried to stand; After giving an ill-advised attempt to leave the couch, she collapsed right back on her flank. “Where are we?” “My apartment. I just said that.” “Right, right… What happened again? Why was I drinking?” “I have no goddamn clue why you were drinking! You weren’t supposed to be drinking at all! Dad said—” Raven stopped herself before she lost control entirely. “Today was Dad’s wake. You left after the service and, apparently, tried to drink yourself blind.” “Oh. Oh, damn… Birch…” Harpy gave standing another try, finding more success this time around. She shook the cobwebs off and maneuvered around the couch. “Ah, good, your bar is stocked…” Raven could not believe what she was hearing, what she was seeing. Harpy just strolled past her to the bar, grabbing herself a glass and rooting around Raven’s various bottles. Raven was so stunned at first that it wasn’t until Harpy grabbed a bottle did she act, meeting her mother at the bar, yanking the whiskey out of her hoof. “No,” said Raven flatly. Harpy didn’t even seem to hear her. “Hm… Do you have any absinthe? And where do you keep your ice?” “You’re not raiding my liquor.” Again, Harpy ignored her, leaning forward and grabbing another bottle, this one of brandy, and poured herself a glass. “Whatever. I take it neat, anyway,” grumbled Harpy. She barely managed to bring the glass to her lips before Raven slapped it out of her hoof. The glass went flying across the room, dashing against the floor into a pile of glass shards and booze. “What the hell, Raven! What is wrong with—” “What is wrong with you! Dad just died and you’re drinking my brandy like it’s your bachelor party!” Raven could hardly contain herself. She was quaking with fury, almost overwhelmed with disgust. “I don’t know what the hell is going on in that brain of yours, but I’ve had it with you.” “It’s bottom shelf shit anyway.” Harpy made a move for the door, stopping only one Raven grabbed her hoof and pulled her back. “Take your hooves off me, missy, or so help me—” A slap echoed through the apartment as Raven brought her hoof across her mother’s face. Harpy gasped, more surprised than pained, rubbing her cheek gingerly and with the utmost of appalled confusion. Even Raven seemed surprised by her own actions. She hadn’t made the decision to slap Harpy so much as her body acted on its own. “You know the last thing Dad said to me?” Raven’s voice was scarcely higher than a whisper, but carried with it all the weight of a furious shout. “The very last thing he asked me, the last thing I’ll ever hear my father say, was him asking to get you help.” “W-what…?” Harpy was still reeling from the slap, as well as her slowly fading inebriation, and she could barely make sense of what she heard. “He wanted to get you help. It broke his heart to see you drinking like this. He wanted you to get better.” Raven trembled as she spoke That spiraling pit she had been attempting to avoid was growing, with hopes of swallowing her whole. This was too much for her right now, the very last thing she needed at the moment. “To his last moment, he was thinking about you. And you’re out and about, getting drunk, making an ass of yourself in front of the damned Princess! He cared about you more than you ever cared about him, you selfish, arrogant, holier-than-thou bitch! If you were twice the mare you are now, you wouldn’t deserve half of him! It’s all your fault that—” “You think I don’t know that?!” Raven froze, as did Harpy herself, the tension and anger between the two growing to be palpable. While their relationship had never been the steadiest or healthiest, Raven had never so openly attacked her mother before. She almost felt bad about it, but she shoved that tiny part of her away for the time being. Now wasn’t the time for rationale. Raven felt like she had earned the right to her blinding, explosive anger after all she had been through, and if she would say everything she had been holding in for years even if she had to listen to her mother ramble all day. “I’m not an idiot, Raven. I know I didn’t deserve him. Nopony knows that better than me,” said Harpy, her voice gone cold and hollow. “I know I wasn’t the wife he deserved. I know it’s my fault we split. I know you hate me for ruining our family. You think I somehow didn’t notice that this was all my fault? That you could possibly hate me more than I loathe myself for how I acted in the past? But what can we do about it now, Raven? Birch is gone. You’ll never change how you feel about me. I can’t get all those years back. I’m just an old, sad, lonely mare waiting for time to finally catch up to me.” “I… I don’t hate you,” whispered Raven, rather meekly. “I… I don’t know what to call it, but it’s not hate. It’s— “Don’t. You’ve hated me since the divorce. You felt I was too hard on you, I suppose? Too much like your father for your own good.” “You got it backwards. I wish I was more like him.” Harpy shook her head at Raven, using her shaky, weak, drunken magical glow to levitate the aspirin to her hoof. She popped the top and swallowed two pills dry. “I understand preferring Birch. I understand not liking me.” Harpy deposited herself in a nearby barstool, clutching her head gingerly. Her hoof occasionally rose to rub her cheek, part of her still stunned that her daughter had struck her. “But I don’t understand how you can deify that man so much. He was a good man, better than I deserve as you seem so insistent to let me know, but he wasn’t without his faults.” “He was a better parent to me than you ever were,” shot Raven. “You were never there for me when I needed you. Dad was.” “Really? Let’s play a game, it’s called ‘Me or Birch’. Who made sure you had a roof over your head? ” asked Harpy, turning to glare at her daughter. “Who made sure you had food to eat? Who made sure you had supplies for school? “I get it, you—” “Who got you into university? Who helped you pay your loans off? Who helped you study for your bar exam? Who wrote the princess a letter of recommendation so that you could become the Royal Advisor? Me or Birch, hm?” “You took him to court so you could keep custody,” snarled Raven. “If you would’ve let him, he would’ve done just as much for me as you did. Probably even more.” “You really don’t think about what happened, do you? I know you were young, but weren’t you ever curious as to why Birch never took you?” asked Harpy. “It’s because he was broke. He grabbed his guitar and went backpacking across the country to finally chase his dreams, and he didn’t spare us a single thought. He could’ve been there for you, but he wasn’t. Face facts, Raven. Birch was a good man, but he wasn’t equipped to take care of a child. He was a bum. So you made do with me.” “Maybe I would’ve been happier with him.” “I did my best for you, Raven. I really, really did. I tried my best. Not good enough, I suppose, but that surely has to count for something. I gave you all I had!” Raven felt her lip twitch, her anger mounting again. It was just like Harpy, so quick to break her hoof patting herself on the back that she entirely missed the point. “I taught you everything I knew about law, about advising the princess, about business and how to speak on behalf of the crown. All Birch gave you was a few pointless distractions and a couple of birthday cards! I was helping you to live up to your destiny, to bring honor to the family name, and—” “I never wanted this stupid family name!” Silence fell, a deep, stiff, uncomfortable silence. Raven hadn’t meant to say that out loud. She had always buried that sentiment as deep down as she could, but she just snapped. Raven could see the shock and horror wash over her mother, Harpy clutching her chest weakly. Raven took in a deep breath before continuing. It was about time she finally said what she was feeling. “I understand that our family is special, with a legacy or whatever,” said Raven slowly. “I understand that you were excited when you were younger to live up to that legacy. But that’s not what I wanted. And I’ve always resented you for that. Not just because you were hard on me. Not just because of you and Dad. Because you forced me into this. You made me become the Advisor, and you didn’t seem to care that it made me miserable.” “But… What would you have done?” Harpy’s tone had softened dramatically. Raven knew, this wasn’t her being snarky or sharp. This was contemplation, remorse. “You were made for this job, Raven, I can’t imagine you doing anything else.” “That Bridleway contest. The script I wrote for it. It wasn’t just some distraction. It wasn’t like how I quit the swim team because I got bored of it. Dad suggested that I give playwriting a try, and I loved it. That script was my life. My passion. I never wanted anything else as much as I wanted to do that.” “Then why didn’t you finish it?” asked Harpy. “You told me you didn’t feel like finishing it, and you tossed it in the trash.” “I was scared. I didn’t think my script was good enough. I thought the judges would laugh me off stage. I was so scared…” Raven could feel her resolve breaking. She felt like she could just pass out right then and there from these tidal waves of emotions and memories. “Dad wasn’t gonna be around to help, and you didn’t care about my stupid play nonsense, so I threw it out. You always said I needed to think about a real job anyway, so I binned it, and I shoved it away in my head so that I never thought about it, cause I knew if I thought about it, I’d—” Raven lost the rest of her rant when she felt her mother’s hooves around her. If Raven wasn’t fond of physical contact, then Harpy was allergic to it. Raven couldn’t remember the last time she had been hugged by her mother. It was foreign, uncomfortable, strange to the point that Raven initially didn't know how to respond. It wasn't until she processed Harpy's shaking, shuddering sobs did Raven hug back. "I'm sorry," breathed Harpy, barely able to get the words out. "I didn't mean to…" "I know, Mom." Raven patted Harpy gently on the back as they embraced. "I know." "I was so mad at him for leaving me, so bitter. I didn't want you to be like him…I tried to stamp out all the Birch in you and make you a proper Inkwell. I was so hurt, I didn't even think about…" "It's okay," said Raven. "I know you weren't trying to hurt me. You weren't even trying to hurt him." "Now he's gone. Too late to make amends. Too late to take it all back.” Harpy gave a dark, bitter chuckle. “I’m an absolute disaster, aren’t I?” “You’re not alone there.” Raven broke away, wiping the tears from her eyes and looking Harpy up and down. She seemed steadier, like she had managed to argue herself sober. Even still, it was evident that Harpy wasn’t in a good enough place to be left alone just yet. “How’s your head?” “Pounding like a marching band,” sighed Harpy, clutching her head. “Whatever I drank is something that ought not be drunk…” “Wanna go get some coffee? Maybe a quick bite to eat?” offered Raven. “We could talk more. Maybe we can fix us.” Harpy nodded, slowly shaking off the last of her cobwebs. This wasn’t pleasant for either mare, but it was starting to look like maybe things could improve. Coffee seemed like a solid first step. “I know a place,” said Harpy. “Let’s head downtown.”