//------------------------------// // Chapter 8: Broken Bottles and Jaded Strings // Story: Moonlight Sonata // by Lynked //------------------------------// Vinyl's eyes snapped open, reddened and puffy as they soaked in the dim candlelight around them. They were like two volcanoes on her face; Celestia knew they had been erupting enough to be considered such. Though the fire did not source in these watery globes; no, it was in her mind. She wrapped her forelegs around her head, scrunching her face tight. A low moan eased through her cracked, white lips, filling her ears with more fuel for the flame. Her eyes squeezed shut, giving way to more bolts of pain as the sore ruby gems were pushed into their sockets. "Ah good, you're awake," a voice said from the darkness. It was sweet, calming, but had a good edge of annoyance. "I-I, uh..." "Shh, don't try to talk. Just lie still," the voice said. Vinyl did as she was told; staying as still as could be on the soft surface she had awoken on. Soon a hoof grazed her mane, stroking it down to its base. She gave her eyelids a tug, nudging them open though they had been welded shut. "Hung over?" the voice asked, trailing up from Vinyl's side and to her fore. The DJ nodded, a light crinkling noise coming from beneath her chin. "And how does your nose feel?" Her nose...? Now that she thought about it, she couldn't even feel her nose. "I...I-I don't know. Where's my nose?" she asked, panicked. The sweet voice giggled. "You still have it, it's just...eh...I'll try and put this gently. It's shattered." "S-Shattered?" she stuttered. Almost instantly she forced herself up, only to fall back with a small whimper. "Yes, shattered. You stumbled in here last night complaining about how somepony had stolen something from you, and then you just...passed out. You looked pretty bad," the mare said matter-of-factly. "Try and open your eyes, won't you? Do they hurt? You looked like you were crying." "I...I don't know why I would be," Vinyl said nasally. Her body felt limp now, a simple ragdoll on a shelf. Forelegs sprawled of the sides of her platform, hind legs spread - she was simply limp. Then, suddenly and unpredictably, her legs tightened and her tail curled up. She threw her aching head down, landing it with a thud on what felt to be a pillow. Spasms riveted her limbs. Chills shot up her spine. Her fur stood on end, and her ears flattened. "Celestia be damned," she said. Her voice mutated with a cough to form an awful hacking. "O-Octavia..." "Yes, I believe that was the name of the pony who stole from you. You were muttering about how you never even wanted something in the first place. Was it the thing she stole, if I may ask?" Vinyl's eyes creaked open as a groan passed by her parched tongue. What she saw was a pony clad in white, with a cap atop her head. The lumps in the side of her long white robe were the outline of wings. On the cap sat an embroidered cross of the deepest scarlet color; a perfect match to the red eyes of the pain-stricken mare. The pegasi's face was gentle enough though; her light magenta fur carried her glowing amber eyes with a tilted smile. "I...yes..." she said at a lack of words. Her eyes turned from the nurse's, falling to her cushy platform. It was a blue bed, heavily resembling a stretcher, with a long rectangular sheet of paper spanning its length. "Well, whatever she stole can easily be retrieved with the help of security," the nurse said as she spun around. There was a table behind her holding the only lamp in the small room. It illuminated the wooden walls and floors, their deep mahogany colors easy for the DJ to see. The nurse took grabbed the golden candleholder, casually taking it from the table and back to Vinyl. "Now, follow the light," she said through her muffle. Vinyl did as she was told; fixating her eyes on the harsh light and following it left, right, up and down. "I...I don't think it'll help." "Oh? And why not?" she asked as she replaced her candle. From that, she walked over to a clipboard that stayed silently upon the wall. Pen in mouth she scribbled a few words down, not turning to face Vinyl, but ears darted nonetheless. "It just wouldn't. Do you have any water?" the DJ asked. "There's a glass at the bottom of the bed," the nurse responded, still scratching a few things down. Vinyl looked past her pale bandages to the wooden floor, where a stout glass of cool water silently stood. With a deep breath she lit her horn aglow, raising the glass to her lips. "What time is it?" she asked just before taking a small sip. The refreshing liquid forced her throat open, spreading to its parched walls and gracing them with ecstasy. Before she could comprehend any of it, the water was nearly drained from the glass. The nurse set the pen in its holder, turning back to face Vinyl. "It's about nine-thirty in the morning. You slept pretty hard. Heh, I almost slept hard. But I felt bad for you, for one reason or another. Whatever the reason, you had me up all night." "Oh, I, uh, sorry," Vinyl said, placing the glass by her side. It tipped and rolled to the floor. She winced, ready for the inevitable shattering sound...but it did not come. The nurse had caught it, and was just now setting it on the table. "And, um, sorry again." "It's alright." The nurse gave a soft, reassuring smile as she turned back to face her patient. "So, care to tell me about what happened last night?" Vinyl mulled it over, her scarlet eyes rolling around in their places. "I...it's hard to remember it all, but then again...I don't think I want to, at least, not with this hangover." She tapped her temples lightly, nodding to the nurse. "But I think...I think I lost something important." "I see. Well best of luck to you then. You're free to go whenever you want, so long as you keep that bandage on at all times. Don't be afraid to shower with it, it's waterproof. But if you take it off, it'll be a nightmare, trust me." The nurse extended her hoof, which Vinyl gladly took. She helped hoist the white unicorn from the bed, lowering her to the floor. It took a minute or two, but eventually her shaking legs stabilized, and her head managed to stay in the air. Her eyelids still drooped but she could see perfectly fine. The door was behind the bed; it was wooden, just as everything else, and labeled with the number one. "Just go out this door, to the left, and through the reception room. You're on the middle deck, so I don't think you'll have a problem from there," the nurse said. She guided Vinyl to the door with a gentle hoof, kindly opening the door and stepping aside. Yet just as Vinyl was about to trod into the warm, red-carpeted hallway before her, she froze. She felt as if there were bees, hornets and wasps invading her mind, stinging it endlessly. Now in the mixture was pure, vile poison. "Or...Or have you forgotten? Six months ago? You did, didn't you? What...dammit Vinyl what's wrong with you?" "Um, hey nurse?" the DJ asked, turning around. The helpful pony had returned to her tiny clipboard and was busy ripping the top sheet from its bulk. "Can I ask you a quick question?" "Of course," she replied, tossing the paper to the desk. "Have you ever worked in a real hospital?" "I have as a matter of fact! Manehattan General, four years! It's where I got my PhD," she said proudly. Her chest puffed out, head tossed high with a smug grin. "Well...have you ever dealt with two ponies who were in love?" The nurse fell from her proud stance, a very serious face adorned now. Her lips were flat, and her eyes were focused. In a cracked voice, she responded, "Yes. Yes I have. Why?" "What happened? How did things turn out, I mean, for them?" Vinyl bit her lip, looking away. "We got a colt one day. Bad condition, too. Had some sort of kidney damage. We had to do some major surgery... If you've got the time, I've got the tale." The nurse hopped up on the bed, indenting a small place in the paper beside her. Vinyl looked back out her exit, sighed, and shut the door. She jumped up next to the magenta mare, looking her dead straight in the eyes. She could see her bandages still - an unwelcome sight to her smoldering brains - but she forcibly ignored it to watch the tale in the deep amber eyes adjacent to hers. "He was a rather wealthy colt," the nurse began. "Large, red, had a moustache too." She traced a handlebar moustache on her snout. "Our medical crew rushed him in on a stretcher. I was a doctor at the time, working in the emergency wing, so, well he came to me with horrible kidney failure. I thought he was dead right there. I...I almost opted out of treating him. I had the chance to pronounce him dead. I'm still a bit ashamed of how I almost did, but...I can honestly say I made one of the best choices of my life - and his, too." Vinyl was engrossed in the topic; her wide eyes made sure to announce it. "Well what about the 'in love' part? What about that?" "Ah. He had a wife; pretty, no...gorgeous young mare. Real tall, skinny, and had a nice green mane to boot. She followed the poor colt in. I swear, I've never heard more screaming than when that mare started yelling at security." The nurse trailed off, staring over at the flickering light of the dying candle. "And then?" "Well we saved him, narrowly - had to get a whole new kidney for the guy." "And his wife...?" Vinyl asked. "When he got out," The nurse explained, "there were plenty of tears. I'll tell you, there's nothing more beautiful than young love. Ah, but I digress. Anyways, as far as I know, they're happily married. And alive - mind you - thanks to moi." A confident grin spread across the nurse's face as she whipped her hair right. "Are you sure?" "I can't be positive; I've not seen him since, but fairly sure, yes. They seemed so happy when they were finally together..." Vinyl let the nurse's voice trail off, the silence doing its part in killing the hornets' nest in her head. "Alright, well, thanks," she told the nurse, giving a curt nod and the best smile she could put on. "I ought to be going. Gotta find out what happened last night sometime, right?" "I suppose we all do, eh?" The nurse winked with a tender smile. "Good luck." Vinyl fell to her hooves, swaying but standing strong. As she pried open the door with her horn and stepped into the hallway, she turned and said with a smile, "Thanks." *** Octavia giggled. She actually giggled. Here she was laying on her bed, single, with her two best friends promising that things would be fine...and she was giggling. "Girls...I feel free. How many times do I have to tell you this?" she asked, more chortles slipping through. "I really don't think this is healthy," Lyra whispered to the cream pony next to her. Bonbon nodded silently, not taking her sight off the snickering cellist. "Girls," she said with the wave of a hoof, "I cried. I honestly did. I cried all last night. But you know what? I did some thinking too! And I thought, 'Why in Equestria am I lumbered with this insufferable oaf in the first place?' There are plenty of mares out there, and even one or two finer gentlecolts. I've got plenty to choose from. Why have a bottom-feeder like her?" Lyra glanced to Bonbon, wincing. The mare returned the gesture in silence, an unsure look in her crystal blue eyes. "W-Well only if you're sure..." "I am," the grey cellist said, sitting back up. She smiled away, her ears up and eyes jubilant. But that was not all about them: they were sunken and puffy, with dark rings around them. And her mane was ruined too; patches were greasy, slickened and ruffled. Her mane even stood on end. A look such as this took effort. "Alright," Bonbon said quietly. She stood from the bed, motioning for Lyra to come with her with a nod. "We'll leave you to get cleaned up. You still want to go to breakfast with us, right?" "Oh, of course, just give me ten or fifteen minutes to take a shower, won't you? I'm a mess," she noted, mockingly rubbing her fur. "Right..." Lyra turned and headed for the door, tossing it aside with her magic. "See you in a few minutes," she said over her shoulder. She and her marefriend both zipped out of the room, into the glowing hallway that was its link to the ship. When the door closed behind them, Octavia too stood, and instead of heading for the shower, dragged her hooves across the carpets, to the blue windows that separated her and the elements. The sun was no longer shining through them; it was raised on the other side, as their course had been reversed. But the light of the new day still lit the room aglow with soft blue light. The cellist bathed in this, awash with the monotonous color. Her eyes were trained to the horizon, watching the gentle waves approach the ship to keep its rocking in rhythm. Flat was her face, with neither not a smile nor a frown. Her ears were low, and her whole body sagged as she stood in silence, simply staring out upon the ever expansive ocean. It was quiet. Everything was quiet. Even her mind, which had been so active all night as to keep her awake, was silent and empty. She wasn't giggling anymore. *** "What do you think?" Lyra asked. The two were in their own suite now, taking some time for themselves. They lay interwoven on the plump mattress by the windows. Lyra's head was propped up against one of the many silver, silken pillows, with her companions just beneath her. The warm breath of Bonbon kissed the harpist's neck, blanketing it in the most condolences she needed. "I think she's in denial. It's got to be some sort of coping method. I mean, the two were in love for a year and then they break up pretty brutally...there's no way she's just happy all of a sudden." Bonbon sighed, nuzzling deep into Lyra. Her foreleg was draped across the mint unicorn's slowly rising chest, her ear listening to the soft beat of her pulse. "I think so too. You know, I...kind of feel guilty." Bonbon looked up, locking eyes with Lyra. "Why?" "For all those things I said. You know...how I said I wished they didn't come, and all that jazz. I feel guilty." She sighed, looking to her left to face the Great Equestrian Sea. There were rumors that it never ended, that it just spanned to eternity and beyond. She found herself wondering if it too had an abrupt end. "I'd be lying if I said you shouldn't...but don't beat yourself up. I doubt there was much we could've done," Bonbon said. Her head readjusted beneath her marefriend's neck, and now her eyes were locked on the shimmering horizon as well. "I know..." Lyra gulped, squeezing Bonbon tighter with her foreleg. "That won't be us, right? I hate to compare us to this situation, especially so early, but I can't say I'm not a bit scared." "It's alright. I'm having those thoughts myself," Bonbon agreed. "But no. I love you Lyra. And as long as I have that, I think I'll be able to put up with you." She licked Lyra's chin playfully. "Aww, well I feel the same. It's just...they didn't have that, did they? They didn't love each other anymore." "No. No, I don't think they did." The cream pony drew a deep breath, her chest expanding in unison with her lover's. As they both released, a mutual feeling of empathy was shared. "And what about Vinyl? How do you think she's taking it?" "I think we both know the answer to that," Bonbon sighed. *** "Liver...? Nopony gives a damn about mah liver...at least, not anymore...eh, look! It's not yer job to drag my mood down. It's your job ta get me a drink. So...go do it," Vinyl slurred as she rocked in her barstool, waving the bartender away with her hoof. She remembered. She remembered everything. And now she was forgetting again, simple as that. But from behind the bar, the bartender protested. "Ma'am, you're becoming quite the pariah around the bars. I honestly suggest you stop before something bad happens-" "Bad? Somethin' bad already happened, ya freak! Now get me another damn tequila shot!" She slammed her hoof down on the marble counter, sliding her light blue card to the colt. "I don't care," he said, "It's no excuse for being a rude drunkard." With a snort and the jerk of his head, he took the card up and stormed off. Vinyl sneered and turned away; that pony had no idea what bad really was. She looked down to her previous feats - three empty shot glasses - and began kicking them around with little clinks. The conversational air of the window lit bar was starting to pick up again, luckily for her; when she wasn't at a gig, she hated public attention. So thankfully she was on her own once more. She twirled a dripping glass around in a circle, leaving a little trail of miracle juice behind it, ignoring the mess she was making. When she did stop, however, it was to get a closer look at what the spinning glass was painting. It was a simple ring. No, it was a work of tequila art! When she bent lower to take a look, though, she could see her reflection in the shiny glass, and it was not a sight to behold. Her head sagged, but she jerked up immediately. A few more inches and she'd be back with the nurse to remove some unpleasant intrusions. Yet not even the thought of more bodily damage could keep her unsteady mind from wandering. She bent lower, down to the glass once more to get a good look. It was her eyes she saw first: red, ruby red, and not just her irises. To an untrained eye, her whole eye was simply red. She could not tell where the veins ended and the color began. On top of that, they were puffy and sunken, with nasty bits of crust forming beneath them. When she raised a hoof to scrape them away, she lost her balance, swaying left and almost collapsing to the floor. Luckily, she managed to slam her hoof back atop the bar and stifle her descent. She barely missed a shot glass, nicking its edge and sending it flying from the bar top. The tiny thing was slung against the back bar wall, tapping a wine bottle and falling with but a tiny clank. Nopony seemed to notice, not even the bartender - that blue colt was busy rummaging around in a cabinet. She went back to examining herself with a hazy eye, looking deep into one of the two remaining glasses. Now she stared at her mane, its distraught strands and greasy thatches making for a sickly show. If fact, now that she thought about it, she had given bits to ponies that looked like her. "Ma'am, your drink," the bartender grumbled, sliding the shot down to her atop her card. She took it with her magic, wordlessly lifting it and chugging it down. "Yeah, thanks dude," she said with a cough. Without further words, she took her card and fell from the barstool, slowly trotting to the entrance. She knew neither where she was going nor why, but she felt like she needed to go somewhere. As she exited the bar, and entered one of the two main hallways, she muttered a few incomprehensible slurs beneath her breath, stumbling left and heading to the foyer. The ponies that crowed her gave her snarls of distaste, but moved from her path nonetheless. She stumbled her way into the foyer, lit with only the golden sun. And she simply kept walking, on and on. *** The Steamer was fairly packed this morning, but Octavia's disturbing mood was untouched. Lyra and Bonbon could hardly keep their smiles burning. As they tore into yet another breakfast panini in almost perfect sync, they exchanged wary glances. "I tell you girls, no more worries from here on out!" the cellist said, bouncing in her chair. A smile was bright on her face, plastered and chiseled. "Octavia, I...I don't think this is healthy..." Lyra sighed, swallowing her bite with uneasy nods from her marefriend. "Why, of course it isn't dear. You can hardly expect to get a healthy meal around here, eloquent or not. It's simply a bar; I'm not sure why you're expectations are so high," the cellist said, tearing into her own crispy sandwich. "No, not...oh, just nevermind. You're right. I don't know why I had such high expectations," Lyra said as she leaned her head on her hoof. Bonbon gave her a soft but firm to force her back upright. "So what did you want to do today?" the cream pony asked. "Well," Octavia said with a chuckle, "I was thinking we go out for a relaxing day at the spa. Doesn't that sound wonderful?" Her eyes darted, a grin on her face, she looked both of them over. Lyra opened her mouth, her lips already forming words of angst, apologies, and denials. But Bonbon gave her another good little kick, leaning in and whispering, "She could use this. Just...go with it, please?" "Fine," the harpist said. She sighed, turned back to the grey mare at her table, and said, "We'd love to. The spa's down on the middeck." "Well then let's get going, shall we? I'm not too hungry today, as it were," Octavia said. She tossed her sandwich down, falling from her chair and curtly exiting the steamer. In the lounge's maw, she beckoned for them to follow. "I, uh..." "C'mon, let's just do this, and we'll sort things out later, all right?" Bonbon cooed, stroking Lyra's mane. "But...just look at her. How do we deal with that?" she asked. Her hoof darted at the cellist in the doorway, who had shifted her own attention. She seemed to be staring out one of the multiple large windows, rather silently and stiff. Cold and stone-faced, Octavia just stared quietly. "She can't keep this up for long," Bonbon noted. "I know. She'll crack soon." *** Vinyl's head was flat on one of the many tables that were sprawled throughout the room. This was the piano lounge, quiet and lonely as ever. Good for her, too; she could rest in peace. A small, crystal clear fluid pooled from beneath her head. To anypony else, her face was hidden in the greasy tangle of her mane. She was silent, too; no noises or movements, not even the slightest of shifting. She was stiff yet limp, quiet yet loud in appearance. The gentle swaying of the ship was probably the closest thing she got to moving, but there was no movement needed to portray just how pathetic this mare felt. Possibly the only notable thing about her was the empty whiskey bottle that lay on its side next to her. A few ponies that passed by had actually whispered amongst themselves as to if she was dead or not. Celestia knew only a hardy pony could chug that much god-juice in such a short time. Though most of them were polite enough - or maybe simply disgusted enough - to avoid speaking to her. The last thing she wanted was some pony coming up to her and asking the annoying question, 'Are you okay?' Should one ask, the probable response would be, 'I'd be better off drowning,' or maybe even, 'Yes, with three or four shots of vodka.' The thoughts burned her mind like fresh coals to an open fire. But no, she was not dead; on the unfortunate contrary, she was trying her best to speak. Even if no one would listen, she was trying to speak. Yet words are hard to come by when the sting of tears burns paths down a pony's face. Possibly all the words she was trying to speak were swirling around in her alcoholic pain, creeping down her cheeks and growing the pool larger. When at long last she could finally get her lips to meet, all she muttered was: "It's not my fault..." Her hoof tightened, slamming down on the table. "It's not..." she said. Again, she hammered against the table with the only movement she had made for hours. The shimmering bottle rattled against her ear, clanking down to her core. She swept her hoof across the table rapidly, sending the empty flask flying. "Ma'am, we do not permit such displays," a voice said. Vinyl slowly lifted her head, staring at this new mare with bloodshot, tearstained eyes. This mare was donned in a blue dress, appropriate for the eloquent line of service. "Yeah," Vinyl started with a quiver, "Well you should take that up with my ex!" "Your...ugh, I'm sick of all you depressed ponies whining over your ex's, just get over it and stop driving away our customers, won't you?" Vinyl fell from her seat, marching unevenly up to the service mare. The pony stood her ground, scowling as she puffed her chest out. The DJ put on her own grimace - an amorphous look of pure alcohol - as she got right in this pony's face. "W-What did you say?" she slurred, squinting her burning eyes. "I said-" The mare began, but her stuck up, matter-of-fact voice got no farther than that. She was sent to the ground with an audible popping noise, like the cracking of bones. A small trickle of blood rolled from her lips as she skidded across the tiles, slamming into one of the tables. Now, under a heap of chairs, tablecloth, and the table itself, she lay limp. Vinyl only spat at her, ignoring the uproar of shocked ponies as she stumbled away. Yet just before she could escape the scene, a disoriented voice from behind her called out: "We need security!" *** Lyra, Bonbon, and Octavia all lay flat on their bellies on the soft pink platforms. Each was currently attended to by one mare, carefully and expertly grinding her hooves on her assigned pony's back. The slow, steady kneading was doing wonders to the harpists aching back, as was told in the multiple cracks that came from her many kinks. Her hooves draped over the sides of the bed, lying limp and still. A large, sloppy grin was etched into her face as she let her eyes close again, enjoying her day in a rather messed up sense. "Mmm, this place is heavenly," Bonbon said, her masseuse doing her job excellently. Lyra peeped through her heavy eyelids, opening her pupils to the pink and frilly architecture that found its sole hold in the spa, namely the massage room. The gentle swaying of the ship and the gentle grinding on her back did their part in making her sight blurry in a sea of bliss, but she maintained the sliver of a visor she had. "It is..." Lyra said, sighing out long and heavy. "Ah, we should come here more," the cream pony said with a smile. Her eyes relaxed, closing her out. Lyra chuckled - it was too cute not to - and let her own eyes shut. But then she remembered: Octavia. Her eyes shot open, and her head rolled, facing her left. The grey mare beside her was attended by her spa pony, getting a full on back massage, just as they were. And yet, on her face, there was nothing. Not a single hint of emotion, or a sliver of soul. Her pink eyes stared out beyond, fixated on the pink wall in front of her. Her breathing was slow and steady; mechanical, even. "Hey, Octavia, you alright...?" "Hm...? Oh, yes of course," she said with a smile. The jump to emotion sent Lyra aback, cracking her neck thoroughly. She lifted a hoof and placed it on the sore spot with a grimace. "Uh, yeah, alright." The harpist slowly turned away, craning her neck back to Bonbon. The mare was already staring back at her with an uneasy gaze, biting her lip hard enough to turn it beet red. She mouthed the words, 'I don't know.' Lyra just shrugged back, a bit unnerved. She shifted a bit on her platform, the masseuse behind her not easing up, which was something to be thankful for; she was beginning to feel a bit queasy. Slowly and carefully, she rolled to face Octavia. The cellist was back to her silent stare, not even blinking, nor truly breathing. Lyra opened her mouth to speak, and would have too, had it not been for the comforting hooves of her attendant. They struck a sweet spot, just beneath her shoulders. That spot had been aching for days. Playing the harp wasn't easy, especially with hooves. There was a loud pop, and Lyra's jaw dropped. Her tongue lolled out, her head planting itself firmly on the thick pillow beneath it. "Right there..." she muttered, falling back to a state of mindless bliss. *** "I just don't know. I mean, she was cheery when we left her..." "But did you see how she was when she went inside? All...quiet," Bonbon said with a sigh. She and Lyra were on their bed, spending their afternoon together alone. "I know, I know...Celestia, why did you curse me with this," Lyra softly cried, gripping her marefriend tighter. No tears streamed forth, but the worry was apparent in the sunken, dark rings around the tired mares eyes. "Sh-sh, calm down, it'll be alright, you'll see." "You keep saying that, but when? When is anything alright?" Bonbon drew in a deep breath, looking at the little alarm clock by her side. "We're alright, right? I mean, we still have each other. And if you're talking about the cruise-" "I am." "-Then you should note that it's not a total disaster. Sure...Vinyl and Octavia have... um, look, this is still a good little vacation." The mare gulped, giving her best smile to the mint pony beneath her. "Yeah...right..." "Well, uh, on a different note, are you playing tonight?" "Yeah, I am. It's my job; I still gotta do it," Lyra said with a heavy breath. "Okay, well I'll be right there by you." There was a pause. "I know you will be, Candy Lips. I know you will." *** Octavia had dinner alone, in the confines of her own suite. Things were silent, dead as the night that beamed in through her windows. The moonlight filled her otherwise dark room, as the somber tune of its maiden song drift silently beneath it. As she sat on the bed, staring down at nothing in particular, the smell of crispy rose leaves filled the air. Her salad was only half eaten - her appetite had fled quickly, giving way to an empty pit of nothing. She turned her head to face the moon, basking in its glow. It was growing with each passing night, and was now huge, and over half full. A small green glass cylinder glinted in her hooves as she reveled in the light, making tiny clanking sounds when it rolled the wrong way. But it was not on her mind now. Actually, it seemed that nothing was. Not a thing. No fire, spark, not even a tiny flicker behind those glossed over magenta eyes that stared so blankly at the moon. Nothing at all.