"I think I'll be leaving soon," the stallion said.
Wick Clip looked up from her soup. "Where to?" she asked.
"I'm not sure." The stallion ate another spoonful of soup. "Maybe Ponyville, but I'm not sure if that's safe. Maybe Canterlot. Maybe someplace else entirely. I do need to meet Princess Twilight at some point."
"And what will happen to your stuff?" asked Wick between sips of soup.
"Some of it I'm taking with me," replied the stallion. "Some of it I'll leave. The room will close up, and it'll be as if I was never here. I can't afford to leave tracks behind, Stella is too good at following those."
"I see." Wick looked down. She stopped eating for a bit, looking at her largely obscured reflection in the bowl of soup in front of her.
"Are you saying you'll miss me?" the stallion asked.
"I..." Wick hesitated, and blinked a couple of times. "It really says a lot about my life that the answer to that is probably yes. It's not all though."
"What else?" The stallion swallowed another spoonful.
"Ask me again a week or so after you're gone. I'll be convinced I never liked you at all. I'll be convinced I really don't miss you." She stuck her spoon into her bowl with little energy behind her motions. "Maybe it's this place's fault."
"What do you mean?"
"Maybe there needs to be someone crazy here," Wick explained, "and once you're gone I'll go back to filling that spot myself. Maybe this place is cursed."
"That sounds like an excuse to me," said the stallion. "And trust me, I know a few things about causation."
"I was down a path before you came into my life." Wick sat with her hooves on her chair, staring down at nothing. "I think I'll be back on it once you're gone. This will be left as a parenthesis of my life, but not a change."
"If you're asking me to stay, I'm afraid I can't do that." The stallion stayed focused on his soup. "But I will miss your cooking."
"You could help me. Just by being here," Wick said.
The stallion looked at her. "Is this about me or about you? You don't need me. You just need someone. It should be up to you to look for them."
"You wouldn't say that to a mare whose life was on the line, would you?"
"No," said the stallion. "But you're not that. You're far more petty than that. Staying here won't change things, and things can't get better if they don't change."
"They can get worse." Wick grabbed her spoon again, and went back to eating.
"It's up to you." The stallion finished his soup. "Scary, right? Having to decide for yourself if your answer was the right one."
Wick smiled. "You're a good pony. And I'll miss you. But you always knew something I didn't, didn't you?" She looked up at him. "Do I make it?"
The stallion looked back at her, silent, reflecting on what answer to give her.