"Heh-heh..." Feather sweats against the fireplace. Towers of gifts are bundled together like close friends by the flames. "Do you... know the perfect gift for my mother?"
Just barge in and talk on about gifts for... at least it isn't his own gift. Selflessness is a virtue, its own Element of Harmony or just Generosity. This mysterious pink deer may croon to him a song about going back home, digging up the treasures found in staying simple. Just spend more time with her. That possibility is better than nothing. Nothing or shackles to an insane alicorn-wannabe.
Bori coughs to break the ice. "Oh, that is quite the sweet request! And if I remember correctly, you're from Our Town, hmm? That's a peculiar little town..."
The interrogation is more a chat over coffee. Sugar Belle and her pastries, with a cup of black. Hot, sweltering anything to steal him away from his invisible cage. The empty stairs watch him, observing his speech. "Well, yeah. I lived a little more south than that before I met Starlight, eh-heh..."
"At least that nasty business is over." Miss Present's accent has that old-timey flourish. "A few kites are in Starlight's inbox, I must say..."
A few muffled hoofsteps blur the small talk. Praise for the former cult leader, with all the indoctrinations and connotations, dissolve with a thump. Another follows suit. The ghost of a magic horn straddling on his withers is a signal of a second-floor disturbance, a putting-to-sleep. "Y-yeah. She's... doing real pretty now!" (Watch your words.) What next, maybe Starlight might swoon for him. Stupid love, puppy love, newly-weds—get her out! He heard much about the Crystaller eyeing her, old-time friend. Love somewhere, like Mom and Dad... a vacation home, deep in the shores, drifting down the river on a foundation of shifting sand, beholding the world in a forever honeymoon before his Dad rose to work, their faces shifting to Feather's own and Swoon Song's or Fond Feather's from his new home, those picture-perfect faces and personalities—
Wood whines against wood from upstairs. He can't see it. Bori explains it away as heavy-duty gift-giving. Studio sets, entire crates, fun for the whole family. The crate may as well be another body or a pair, together forever, should never pass away—not under his watch, if he had to do something about!
He bumps into her, close to her face. Not a kiss! No smooching! His heart vibrates, may explode, almost kissed a god. "I... I-I've got a confession to make," he half-spits out, breathless. He ought to keep moving, keep talking. "It's... I made a mistake coming here. The pony that came with me... didn't just want a talk... I've... brought someone... she's with... she's not as good as she—"
"You can't betray me, you hunk!" yells Goldcap barreling down the stairs, two pairs of antlers stabbed into her; its magic oozes. "You handsome single-sibling blank face!" Her speech allures; her eyes, aglow. If she can only be as stunning as—
"Goldcap!" Bori rears up, aims her own antlers. "How... how can you do this?"
"Nullification matrices." No danger, no-nonsense. No worries. I got this, she proclaims. "I don't have 'Princess' Twilight's skill, but I can read a lot. This spell scrambles all scrying. Good counter-measure, given the whole seer mumbo jumbo the legends go on about."
They circle each other, rainbow-colored gift boxes the childish backdrop to a duel to the death. Feather Bangs should've just gotten on, should've just fled the scene. Curse his instincts for trying to woo this mare! For pursuing Mother to the ends of the earth!
Goldcap takes a step forward. "You'll try to kill me, huh? I know what will happen. Or try to, heh."
Silent Bori shoots from the horn.
Her magic ray freezes. Shoots back. She crumples into nothing.
Blood on his hooves.
Anything Goldcap touches turns into ash and death. (Run.)
An explosion spell hanging over poor Mom's head if Goldcap can really see forward, backwards, sideways—"Come with me."
Feather is pulled into a neurotic other-world.