//------------------------------// // Chapter 11: An Empty Nest // Story: Callsign MANE VI: Twilight // by Col_StaR //------------------------------// Her heart raced to the rhythm of the powerful pounding at her door; nothing good ever came with knocks as urgent as that. The veterinary clinic was closed to the day, and the woman wasn’t expecting any visitors. The excitement had riled up her friends, furred and feathered alike, sending them all into a frenzy of movement: dogs barked in reply, cats disappeared beneath furniture, birds darted around their cages, and a lone tortoise had turned upside-down in the chaos. As the woman walked into her living room, the animals all looked to her, confusion and fear in their eyes. She softly shushed to calm them down, whispering softly as her graceful hands calmed their quivering bodies. This was her personal reassurance that everything would be alright, that everything would be fine. That promise of peace was broken by the drumming at the door. The demure woman opened the door to her immediate dismay. A man no older than twenty years old stood at her doorstep, his head shaven and his hands clutching his gun. His mud-brown eyes were nervous but focused. His rifle’s sling was too small while his combat vest was too big, causing him to fidget as he tried to maintain his authoritative posture. Perhaps the only thing that fit him properly was the navy blue cloth band that wrapped around his left arm, the letters “USF” were printed in white on its side for all to see. But regardless of how the young recruit may have looked, he had the woman’s full attention; whatever this man had to say, it was sure to be bad news. Standing a full head taller than her, the man looked down at her head of pink hair as he recited his practiced message. “Ma’am, I’m afraid the area around Pleasantville is no longer safe. Our orders are to get every citizen to safety. Pack a bag of necessities, leave everything else behind, and head into town to join the evacuation as soon as possible.” Her turquoise eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as she let out a gasp in shock. Her thoughts were reeling with new worries and fears . But for all the nervous questions that she had, the only one that managed to escape her lips was the most important: “But what about them?” The recruit looked at the woman, then to the animals behind her. As he turned his eyes down towards her, his answer was devoid of thought, feeling, or emotion. “’Leave everything else behind’.” The words continued to ring in her ears, even hours after they had been said. They had left her. Or perhaps she had left them. Her home was empty now. Abandoned. No barks, mews, or tweets from her animal friends. Just the lonely stillness of an empty nest. All she had now was a well-worn suitcase lying open on her bed. She didn’t have much to pack, but she felt heavy with baggage. She didn’t want to leave. She didn’t want to abandon her animal friends. And she didn’t understand why any of this was happening. But she didn’t have a choice in the matter, nor could she do anything else. The only thing she could do is to pack her bag, lock her door, and join the others as they leave everything behind. It was not be her first time, but she prayed it would be her last. That’s when she heard her door knocking once more. There was no knowing what to expect, but surely it couldn’t be worse news. Answering the door a second time, she found another woman standing on her porch, athletically thin but breathing hard. While the woman’s face was downturned, her iconic hair sparked a flame of countless memories. Droplets of sweat dripped heavy from the colorful blades before the woman could muster the courage to look her in the eye. It had been years since they last talked, years more since they last met, and a lifetime ago when they first met; this was a heck of a way to make up for lost time. But the kindly woman in the doorway didn’t feel the same way. She threw herself onto her old friend, wrapping her arms around her for a long-deserved hug. But, even in the cloud-like softness of her sweater’s embrace, she could feel that there was something wrong. The rainbow-haired woman didn’t return the hug, choosing to remain stiff and hesitant. Her teeth had been biting her lower lip the entire time, anxious to admit her true intentions. This meeting was borne from desperation, not loyalty. “Fluttershy,” Rainbow Dash said, “I need a favor.” It had been a long time since anyone had called her that. Rarity always kept a simple sewing kit in her purse in case of any fashion emergencies, be they a torn seam or a broken button. As she sat on the sofa in Fluttershy’s cozy living room, she worked passionately to mend a particular piece of clothing back together. Her needlework was precise and deliberate, no easy task with adrenaline still coursing through her veins, but the seamstress kept her focus on the cloth in her hands. The ivory white dress shirt would have been discarded had it not fallen into the seamstress’s possession. It was her capable hands that felt the plushness of American Pima cotton instead of the coarseness of its severed fibers. It was her capable eye that saw the delicate golden needle-lace trims beneath the rustic brown of dried blood. And it was her judgment that decided that this shirt was worth saving. Even if it did belong to a UNI. Rarity’s focus was hardly bothered by the hefty sound of approaching boots. Applejack appeared from the nearby hallway, captivated by the hardwood floor beneath her feet. Fluttershy’s cottage reminded her of the farmhouse back home, right down to the way the floorboards creaked as you walked over them. But after seeing Rarity seated alone on the couch, the blonde woman decided to join her friend in the living room. “Hey,” she said, sinking into a nearby armchair, “heck of a day, huh?” “Mhm”, her friend replied. The cowgirl couldn’t help but smirk as Rarity was busy with her needlework. Maybe it was the way she looked so intensely through her tiny red glasses, as if she were sewing through a microscope, which she found humorous. “So…whacha got there?” “Oh, this?” The seamstress paused, lifting the dress shirt up to show. “Why, let’s call it a gift.” “’A gift, huh? Well that’s mighty kind of yah, but I’m already wearing a shirt, thank you very much.“ Rarity rolled her eyes at her friend’s attempt at sarcasm before continuing her work. “Not quite, my dear. This gift is for Twilight. If we no longer need to mend her wounds, the least I can do is mend her clothes. And besides, there is no excuse for a lady to be so exposed in civilized society. “ Now it was Applejack’s turn to go, “Mhm.” It seemed like the conversation was over, and Rarity could go back to focusing on the task at hand. But her friend disagreed, striking up another chat before the last one could even be settled. “And how’s the sewing business?” “Could be doing better, I’m afraid. It’s been quite difficult finding the proper clientele, and it’s even harder to run a boutique out of your bedroom. I’d like to open a proper store somewhere, really make my presence known in the city. But alas, no such luck.” Once again, Applejack’s reply was a half-attentive, “Mhm.” Once again, a moment of silence lingered as the previous conversation died down. And once again, she struck up another chat now long afterwards. “So… what’s your latest design look like?” Rarity emphatically set down her needle, thread, and nearly-finished shirt. “Applejack,” she said, peering over her red-rimmed spectacles, “is there something on your mind?” Such a direct question had caught her off guard. “Wha- What makes you say that?” “In the two years that we’ve worked together, this is the first time you have ever taken an interest in my sewing, my business, or my designs. Yet you’ve managed to stumble across all three in one awkward waltz of forced small talk. So be direct with me, dear: what’s on your mind?” Applejack considered feigning a new-found interest in fashion to justify her fumbling discussions, but they both knew that wouldn’t get far. Rarity had hit the nail on the head, and there was no more dancing around the topic now. The cowgirl delicately placed her hat in her lap, her fingers gently wringing its brim. “Did I make the right call?” Rarity’s head tilted in confusion, “I’m sorry?” “Well, like before. We always thought that Twilight might have been the source of the corruption, right? But that woman, the witch in black, had some serious power behind her. Stuff that myths are made of. I’m wondering if she was the true source after all.” “Perhaps,” she replied, regaining her composure, “but perhaps not. We just don’t know enough to be certain of it, and I certainly hope you are not considering going back and hunting her down to find out.” “No, ‘course not. That didn’t exactly work out so well before. But I don’t want to risk having the corruption spreading any further than it already has.” “That UNI woman seemed quite intent on capturing Twilight. Maybe she has a key to stopping her.” “Or maybe she really is the source of the corruption- the source of that witch’s power. And what if our mission was supposed to be stopping Twilight and all of this in one fell swoop? The picture we got could have been a hit order. I’m sure you’ve taken orders like that, right?” The very thought of having to kill Twilight put a sour taste in Rarity’s mouth. But her friend was correct: she had taken jobs like that before. “I suppose we just don’t know enough. Perhaps we’ll get some answers from her when she wakes up.” “Yeah. ‘spose so.” Applejack’s fingers nervously tapped against the leather Stetson while Rarity calmly returned to their needlework. “You know, for someone who was nearly killed by a UNI a few minutes ago, you’re awful calm about all this.” The seamstress gave only a sly grin in reply. Everyone has their outlets. Some fight. Others smoke. And if she recalled correctly, Applejack used to drink. But a lady should never stoop to such miserable vices. Instead, no matter how hard her hands would shake or how hard her heart would beat, Rarity always chose to sew. “I am still amongst the living thanks to you,” she said, putting her needle down one last time. “I have no doubt that woman would have killed us the moment we gave into her demands. Your denial of her- paired with Shining Armor’s noble sacrifice- was what it took to remove us from such an unsavory end. So yes, my dear, I think you made the ‘right call’.” Applejack’s uneasiness dissipated as Rarity placed her hand gently on her knee. Her friend’s indigo hair cascaded like a sheet across her down-turned face before curling delicately atop her dainty shoulders, framing a reassuring smile and an expression that begged the question, “would you like me to continue?” As much as Applejack would have liked to have her ego massaged even further, hearing her friend’s vote of confidence was enough for her. She smiled in thanks for the reassurance. As the anxiety began to melt away, Applejack’s felt a pit in her stomach. A glimpse at her watch told her it was well past lunch time, and her body was all too eager to remind her. The last thing she remembered eating was a slice of toast from her farm’s kitchen that morning before she departed under the pre-dawn darkness. She didn’t recall seeing any of her teammates eating either; they were probably just as hungry as her. Without a word, the cowgirl stood to her feet, a move that beckoned a questioning look from Rarity. “I reckon we’ll be staying here for a while,” she said, setting her hat on top of her head, “and it wouldn’t be right to raid a stranger’s fridge. I’mma head into town, pick up some chow, maybe scope out the local security. Unless the USF decide to put me in detention, I shouldn’t be long.” “Would you like me to pitch in a few bucks, dear?” “Appreciated, but nah. I just need someone to be watching the premises for me while I’m gone.” Rarity turned towards the living room window and the placid field beyond. With a backdrop of amber clouds and violet shadows, the world seemed placid and still. “I have an open view of the field from here. Everything looks fine to me.” The front door creaked open, letting a cold draft of air sneak inside the cottage. Outlined by the wooden doorframe, Applejack could see the dusk sky awaiting her. “Yeah. Here’s hoping it stays that way.” The rustic cottage was cozy and small, but the memories were packed tight. Hints at Fluttershy’s life were scattered throughout her home. Rainbow Dash wandered through the cozy cottage, trying to piece together a picture of her old friend’s life from the years they’ve spent apart. A veterinary practitioner certificate in her living room, hanging proudly on an empty stucco wall. A medical clinic built from a spare room, well stocked but sparsely used. An unfinished wall painting of three butterflies along the stairs to the bedroom, their wings only partially filled with their bright pink hue. Numerous animal beds, recently used but now abandoned. A single bed in her bedroom, lying on its lonesome in the center of the room. A familiar white-furred stuffed rabbit, gingerly loved and lying comfortably on a pillow. And a half-empty suitcase beside her dresser, preparing her to leave all of it behind. But the item that stood out most for Rainbow was a photograph, adorned in a handmade wooden frame. It was the only photograph in the house, standing alone on the writing desk in Fluttershy’s bedroom. The photo itself was old and wrinkled from wear, but its color hadn’t faded at all. Kept separately from the assortment of keys, notes, and clutter, it was a picture that preserved a sacred memory. It was a picture from another time. It was a picture of them. She couldn’t remember the exact date or location the picture was taken. Fluttershy looked to be about 12, herself a little older, both clad in the sky-blue uniforms that they had worn since they were children. Dash couldn’t help but snicker at the stupid face she was doing, her eyes crossed and her tongue hanging from her mouth as the camera flash captured that moment in time. Her friend was hiding behind a curtain of her pink hair to avoid embarrassment, but even she couldn’t hold back an adorable smile. Life was different then, simple and fun, but no less difficult. In the distance were rigid steel buildings buried beneath a blanket of fresh snow, the familiar foreground to an endless horizon of clouds. The memories made Rainbow Dash gingerly run her hand across the back of her neck, her fingertips easing across her skin. But she froze as they felt the metal anchored into her flesh. Like a bolt of lightning appearing from darkness, the sensations flashed through her mind: the lightness of the mountain air, the electrical surge as she felt her wings flap, the freedom she felt as she soared like a bird. The brash woman quickly jerked her hand away, returning her to the miserable present. None of that mattered now. Cloudsdale was a lifetime away, and the athlete preferred to keep it that way; she used to be certain that Fluttershy did too. But as she looked at the picture, Rainbow Dash realized how differently their perspectives were. In spite of her proud childhood, she had buried her past to forget the bad memories; in spite of her difficult childhood, her friend was preserving her past to remember the good ones. The floorboards behind her creaked unexpectedly. Dash hastily put the picture back on the desk, nearly knocking an assortment of other items onto the ground in the process. The woman turned, finding a friend in the butter-yellow sweater standing in the stairway to her own bedroom. “Oh. Hey Fluttershy,” Rainbow Dash said, leaning against the desk as innocently as she could. “I was just- uh- looking for the bathroom. What’s up?” Fluttershy didn’t seem to question her friend’s intentions; perhaps she really was searching for the bathroom. But it didn’t take a detective to infer that Rainbow Dash was inspecting the picture of them together. She wondered if Rainbow remembered what it was like to have her wings; she wondered if her friend knew she had kept hers. As the fawn-like girl cast her cyan eyes to the floor, her toes tapped nervously against the wooden floorboards. “The girl you brought in,” she said, “she’s awake.” Once again, the studious student found herself in yet another foreign place without her knowledge. The building itself was quaint and wooden, a pleasant scent of pine wafting through the air. The wooden structures were likely made from the local trees, man-made continuations of the forest outside the window. Ornamental designs of spirals, hearts, and flowers had been carved into the woodwork, a task that must have required much delicacy and time. There wasn’t a computer, phone, or radio in sight, and the only evidence of electricity usage was a naked lightbulb dangling freely from the ceiling. Were all homes of the outside world as simple yet cared for as this? It was a question that Twilight would have jumped at the chance to explore. But right now, Twilight did not need to be a student; she needed to be a survivor. They had attempted to gain information from her numerous times. Each time, she answered with silence. The living room grew more tense as patience dwindled. Rainbow Dash reclined on the couch, casually placing her feet upon the coffee table. She slicked her hands through her colorful hair as she concluded, “You don’t say much, huh?” Rarity, seated beside her brash cohort, tutted in reply. “Dash, you needn’t be so blunt. She’s been through quite a lot today already.” She replied with an indifferent shrug. “Doesn’t mean she can’t talk.” The comment made Twilight purse her lips twice as hard. Say Nothing. Fluttershy returned from the kitchen, a stack of cups in one hand and a kettle in the other. She placed a cup in front of each person sitting in her living room, softly setting each cup down with a natural form and grace. As the demure woman began to pour a colored liquid into the cups, she said, “I apologize if the tea isn’t seeped fully. When the United Security Forces arrived, they told us that they were evacuating the town. I’m in a bit of a rush, and I’m so sorry about that.” “Oh, no need to apologize, my dear. We are all indebted to your kindness and hospitality, and we shan’t be a burden for much long.” Rarity raised her mug and breathed deeply, her face beaming as the steam reached her nose. “And my goodness, that tea smells positively exquisite.” Rainbow Dash followed suit, taking a quick sip for good measure as well. As the tea flowed through her senses, her frustrations melted away. “Oh wow, you weren’t kidding. This? I don’t know what this is, but it’s good.” Fluttershy beamed sheepishly, thanking the two for their compliments. The kettle moved towards Twilight’s cup, filling the ceramic mug to the brim with a rich honey-colored liquid. “Please, try some… if that’s alright with you.” The pungent smell of chamomile and peppermint wafted from the rising steam. The savory smell made Twilight’s empty stomach rumble with anticipation; she hadn’t eaten anything since that morning. But as tempting as the offer was, the young woman declined as politely as she could. Hearing the words, “no thank you” was met with a hint of disappointment through the group. But Twilight felt it was the right choice. She was doing what she had been told. Do Nothing. Twilight couldn’t shake the fact that she was feeling less like a guest and more like a prisoner. It was hard to ignore the stares of the three women, whom seemed all too concerned about her wellbeing. The woman with the purple curls seemed the most forward with her interest in her. Twilight’s school uniform sat in its owner’s lap, a present of mixed signals. Each article had been repaired of damage and folded neatly, but they had not yet been cleaned of their earlier stains; a signal, perhaps? It would not have been surprising if Rarity’s gift held an ulterior motive, perhaps to lull her into a false state of comfort and confidence. Twilight couldn’t help but notice the way she would steal a keen stare at the severed handcuff on her left wrist, like a jewelry appraiser eyeing her latest shipment of diamonds. Perhaps Rarity was already putting the pieces together. Or perhaps she knew more than she says. The athlete seemed the least interested in Twilight, with her attitude bordering on agitation at times. The disdain could hint at her overall mission. Maybe she was their hostage, nothing more than an item to be held against her will. Maybe she was an asset, and Twilight just wasn’t what she was expecting. Maybe Rainbow Dash believed the young woman was a spy. But whatever the case, it was hard to ignore the tendency she had to drum her hands to the rhythm of an imaginary song against the side of her polymer holster. The sight of her pistol- holstered or not- made Twilight tense whenever she saw the lithe woman move. The other woman barely spoke, preferring to hide behind the pink curtain of her hair than to speak up. They may be guests in her house, but she always managed to retreat from attention. She seemed less like a participant, and more like a pawn in whatever plan they were about to enact. Applejack was the only one who seemed trustworthy. Her absence was conspicuous. And she wasn’t the only one who was missing. The only thing that remained of the guardsmen was Captain Light’s jacket, which she wore like a cloak to protect her modesty. As she pulled the lapel close to her chest, she grasped something hard against the cloth. It was a golden pin, a shield emblazoned with a shining sun. It was the emblem of the Illuminatus Royal Guard, a symbol that instilled pride and honor to those deserving enough to wear it. But as Twilight looked at the pin, she could only remark at how small the shield was in her hand. Trust no one. In the silence that followed, the rotor thumps of a distant helicopter were a welcome distraction. Reminded of her previous task, Fluttershy quietly excused herself from the living room. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I really must pack my bags. The USF will be evacuating people soon, and I would hate to keep them waiting.” Rainbow Dash gave her friend a complacent wave, “Eh. Worse comes to worse, you can always leave with us. Do you need some help packing?” Fluttershy smiled in appreciation, and the two of them left for the bedroom. But before leaving the living room, Rainbow Dash stopped behind Twilight, mouthing the words “watch her” to Rarity with accompanying hand gestures. Subtlety was not the athlete’s strong suit, and Rarity rolled her eyes at Dash’s emphatic pointing. Still, the suggestion was solid. The violet-haired lady nodded in reply. But returning her gaze towards Twilight made her think otherwise. While her photograph had shown her to be prim, perfect, and pleased, the girl in front of her was a picture of misery. With the grime on her skin and a grimace on her face, she surely looked as bad as she felt. Rarity empathized with the poor girl, sensing her desire to be alone during such a tumultuous time. If that’s what it would take to make her comfortable, then it would be unladylike to deny her that. Rarity softly cleared her throat to draw Twilight’s attention. “Once Applejack returns, I am sure we will be back on the road once more. But until then, I suppose there’s no need to keep you adhered to that armchair. You’re free to wander around the cottage if you’d like, darling.” It didn’t convince her she wasn’t a prisoner, but Twilight was happy to accept Rarity’s offer. Looking down at the folded clothes on her lap, she rubbed her fingers across the familiar fabric and their newly sewn stitches. “May I use the bathroom?” she asked in a subdued voice. Taking one last look at the girl’s state of grime, Rarity immediately answered, “Why of course. There is a restroom down the hall if you wish to wash up and get changed. I’m sure no one will mind if you use the hot water for a wash, either; I’m sure I’ll need a nice, long bath too after today is done.” With a sign of relief, Twilight took to her feet, clothes in hand. “Thank you,” she said before disappearing down the hallway. Rarity smiled and nodded in reply, before turning her attention back to her post. A pick-up truck pulled into the rear of the cottage, its vibrant orange color made all the more noticeable against the lush greenery around it. It might not be as fast as Rainbow’s bike nor as ritzy as Rarity’s Mercedes, but Applejack was nonetheless happy her truck. It was simple, robust, and dependable, and that’s all that she has ever wanted from her equipment. Heck, it was a luxury to have such a car at all. Applejack approached the cabin not too long after her initial departure, her stomach grumbling with anticipation. Hefting a canvas bag in one hand, she was thankful to find the front door slightly ajar. She gently pushed it open, the wooden squeal announcing her return. Rainbow greeted Applejack the instant she made it through the doorway, drawn by the promise of food. Even before Applejack had a chance to put the goods down onto the kitchen table, Dash was already reaching in to the bag. But as continued to feel around, Rainbow began to grow suspicious. Only after she looked inside were her suspicions confirmed. “Apples?” she asked, “That’s all you got?” “Yep,” Applejack said, pulling one such green-skinned fruit from the bag. “Met a man who was lookin’ to sell the last of his produce before jumping on the next truck out of town. I made him an offer, and he sold me the basket’s worth for a few bucks. Good deal, if ya ask me.” Rainbow looked at her friend, at the bag of fruit, and then back again. “What is with you and apples?” She shrugged. “What can I say? It’s in my blood.” Applejack sealed the conversation with a sly grin, followed by a generous bite of the apple in her hand. As soon as she began to chew the chunk of fruit, she immediately regretted her decision. The flesh was mealy, tough, and tasteless, akin to eating a sponge taken from the kitchen sink. That thing had no right being called an apple. In spite of her modesty, Applejack knew that any apple from her family’s orchard was a whole hog’s worth better than whatever that thing was. But her stomach wasn’t as discerning as her tastebuds, and she forced herself to swallow the disgusting morsel. Dash didn’t seem to mind the taste. As usual, she devoured her serving in a flash before reaching into the bag for a second helping. “Did the security in town give you any trouble?” “Thankfully, no,” she said between mouthfuls. “USF’s out in force, though. Estimating thirty men at the least in town, and no doubt there are more on the way. Seems like they’re pulling out all the stops for this evacuation.” “I’ll say. There’s been a chopper buzzing around for a while now. Have you seen it?” “Yeah. A Kiowa Warrior, I believe it’s called. Last time I saw a helo like that, I was still wearing the blue band. From the way it’s flying, it’s probably running reconnaissance.” “I saw some guns and rockets on it too, though. I think they’re looking for a fight. Think it’ll give us trouble?” “Not if we don’t give it a reason to. But it has me a mite worried. Whatever’s going on must be pretty serious if the USF are flying one of their last working helicopters.” “Yeah. That’s what I’m afraid of.” The last sentence caught Applejack’s ear: ‘I’m afraid’ wasn’t something she normally heard from her hot-headed friend. But as she looked up from her tasteless apple, she found Rainbow Dash staring straight at her. The spark of determination never seemed to fade from those rose-colored eyes, but the woman herself was not nearly as direct. There was anger and focus her narrowed brow, but fear and distraction in her softened eyes. Whether it was due to her contact with the woman in black, or her reunion with her old friend, Dash seemed to have lost sight of her target. Applejack could sympathize. Her heart wanted to let Dash off the leash, to go back into the forest with rifles in hand, to hunt down the woman in black, to save the town and its inhabitants. Her brain reminded her that such a move would be suicide, and that they would be no good to anyone if they were dead. It was that feeling of powerlessness that lent itself to a sense of failure; they were powerless to stop the woman in black, to stop the corruption, and to stop the darkness from spreading. Applejack searched for words of reassurance, something to rally the troops and instill Rainbow with hope and focus. But alas, no such inspiration struck: they were going to be lost together. The only words that came to Applejack’s ears were Rarity’s, the whine-like pitch catching her attention. There would be knocking at the bathroom door, followed by a few pleading words, followed by yet more knocking. In lieu of inspiration, the cowgirl found a distraction. “Say, Rainbow? What the hey is Rarity beating on that poor door for?” “I dunno. Maybe it insulted her outfit.” “Well, in that case, maybe we should go help.” "Help Rarity?" "No, the door. Come on, let's go see what's up." Applejack and Rainbow Dash began to move towards the source commotion. Turning the corner from the kitchen to the hallway, the two of them found Rarity glaring daggers at the closed door in front of her. She raked her frustrated hands through her once-immaculate hair as Fluttershy watched nervously from further down the alleyway. In between the staccato notes of knocking, the sound of running water can be heard inside the bathroom. Taking another round of deep breaths- no doubt one of many she’s used to compose herself-, Rarity knocks on the door and begins to plea once more. The sweetness in her voice soured with agitation, “I understand if you’d like some time alone, but there are more comfortable places for that, you know. Please, just talk to me. Let us help you.” Rainbow stepped forward. “What the heck is going on here?” Rarity didn’t even bother to turn towards her friend as she appeared to be focusing all of her anger towards the door. “It’s Twilight. She went to the restroom to wash up and change, but now she won’t respond to me. And I must admit that such rudeness quite unbecoming!” “Well, how long has she been in there?” “Fifteen, twenty minutes, perhaps?” “Oh jeez. Here, let me try to talk to her.” Rainbow Dash tried to push her way towards the door, only to be intercepted by Rarity. “Now you wait just a minute! While I’m sure that our intentions are well-meaning, I do not believe Twilight would be receptive to your… bluntness.” “Look, we can’t wait around all day talking about our feelings. Give me a sec, and I’ll get her out of there.” “I’m sorry, Rainbow Dash, but I cannot allow that in good conscience. You must understand, this is a very delicate situation, one that requires both grace and finesse in order to-“ Crack! The door flew open with explosive force, its wooden surface now marred by a dirty boot print. Applejack, standing in front of the door with her foot still outstretched, turned towards the other two. “I got it.” The four of them peered inside. It didn’t take long for the team to deduce what had happened in the minutes that Twilight had been left alone. The shower had been running, but no one was inside. A small hand mirror lie broken in the center of the room, likely dropped in surprise or horror. One sharp shard of the broken mirror sat on the edge of the sink, alongside a few severed strands of long, dark blue hair. And white cloth curtains fluttered in the chilling breeze, drawing attention to the vast greenery outside. Beyond that open window was a world that had just gained one more refugee. “Oh crap.”