Standing just within the labyrinth’s entrance, Tapper could tell that most ponies were distressed by the sudden return of the darkness.
For Tapper, however, things were different.
It was ironic, in a sense. After years of dreaming about the surface, she was almost glad for the return to the caverns. Out on the surface, Tapper was mute... useless. Surrounded by rocks, however…
…In the caverns, Tapper could sing.
Channeling magic, Tapper struck the nearest stone with her horn. Instead of a dull clink, a soft melody resounded throughout the cavern: a calming signal that everypony had long associated with stability.