"So," said Sunset cheerily, "where is South Perjina anyways?"
"Sunset," said Starlight evenly.
"Yes."
"There is no South Perjina."
A moment. Slightly faltering steps. Just enough space for bird song to creep in before a slow breath, and:
"Ah."
"Yeah."
"So... there's no garden gnomes."
"No, Sunset. There are no garden gnomes."
"Okay." The voice contained equal parts of disappointment and stubborn optimism, like a con man's bottle filled with immiscible halves of snake oil and water. "I had been looking forward to it. I like garden gnomes."
Silence, hoofsteps, and the encore of bird song.
"So, Starlight—it's Starlight, right?" A toss of wavy bacon mane, out of her eyes, smelling delicious, but not of bacon.
"Star light, star bright, star right," said Starlight. "First star you see tonight."
"Where are we going then?"
"Forward. Away."
"Away from Twilight Sparkle."
"Yes."
"Okay. Just checking."
Bird song erupted, filling every space there was to fill in the canopy of branches above. Below their hooves, tiny microbes turned useless nitrogen into life-giving ammonia, and below those still, ancient bones slept in a sludge of black goo that would be ignited for fuel much, much later in the future, when the magic died out and was replaced with free markets.
"It's nice to be back," said Sunset Shimmer, though the words lacked conviction.
"There is a something-jina, though if I were to say it in full we'd have a much smaller audience," said Starlight, apparently not listening.