AU, Doctor Whooves/Derpy in later chapters and Lyra/Bonbon and DJPON-3/Octavia scattered throughout.
AU. Doctor Whooves finds himself in an alternate, dystopian universe and enlists the help of Commander Desiderata "Ditzy" Doo and her band of rebels to set the timestream right and rid Ditzy's world of the Daleks. Some shipping included.
I’m sure that all of you have heard of the magical land of Equestria. A land filled with technicolored ponies, dragons, griffins, and all variety of magical creatures. But there is more than one Equestria, you know. Our story takes place not in the famous land where Friendship and Harmony reign supreme, but another Equestria, where things turned out quite a bit differently.
You’ve heard of the princesses Celestia and Luna? They’re here. Celestia raises the sun, her sister Luna the moon. As it has been for thousands of years.
One fateful day a thousand years ago, the two princess’s trust began to shift.
They knew of other nations that had been established, of course, but they were all still small. Equestria and its states remained the largest and most populated.
Celestia, being the elder, was taking responsibility for most of the “ruling” part. Being a ruler was not all fun and games, you know. She had been thinking quite a bit about the other nations.
A few weeks prior, Celestia and Luna had visited a carnival--disguised, of course--and the fortuneteller had planted a seed of worry and doubt in Celestia’s mind, having said that Luna was planning to usurp her from her throne. (Of course, Luna had been told Celestia planned to rule alone and was plotting to remove her.) As Celestia thought more and more about ruling and her people, the seed had sprouted into a seedling.
“What plagues you, sister?” Luna asked one day. “Thee seems...slightly out-of-sorts, if you will.”
“It...it is nothing, sister,” Celestia had replied. “I am perfectly fine.”
Luna tilted her head doubtfully. “Thou doest not sound fine. Thou sounds...worried. What is troubling you?”
Celestia sighed. “I suppose that the question of how we are going to rule has been on my mind for some time now.”
“That?” Luna had said. “Do not worry, sister. Thou will make a fine ruler.”
Celestia had wanted to believe her sister. But the sprout of worry and doubt had grown into paranoia.
“I?” she had questioned. “What of you? Had it been you that is the elder, how would you go about being ruler?”
Luna had simply given a shrug of a shoulder. “I much prefer staying in the shadows. I am...not good with ponies, I suppose.”
“I see,” said Celestia.
“But I could not rule anyway,” said Luna. “It is your duty. Had I had the desire to rule, I would have to usurp thee, and I assure thee I have not the faintest desire to do so.”
Celestia inhaled sharply. Had the fortuneteller been right all along?
“O-of course, had I planned to rule alone, I would have to remove you,” said Celestia, a bit uneasy. The majority of her mind had been dismissing the fortuneteller as poppycock, but she was beginning to suspect that perhaps there was more to that mysterious pony than a simple gypsy.
“But worry not, sister,” said Luna with a smile, having not detected Celestia’s unease at the previous sentence. “Thou wilst make a fine ruler.”
“I hope so, my sister,” said Celestia. “I hope so.”
Within the next week or so, Celestia continued pondering over this conversation. Had Luna been jesting, or was there deeper meaning to that sentence than first perceived? Luna was a very smart mare, and Celestia knew this.
One day, the combined stress plant of Luna’s possible double-meaning sentence and the paranoia of attack on Equestria blossomed into a full-grown flower in Celestia’s mind.
So she ordered her soldiers to wipe out the other nations.
Luna had, of course, heard of this, but was far too late to stop it. So she ran to Celestia’s chambers and demanded an explanation.
“Ist thou mad, sister?” she demanded, breathing heavily from the long run. “What on Equestria has possessed you?”
“Sister, you overreact,” Celestia said sternly. “I am stopping an all-out war before it begins.”
“Rivendell is a peaceful nation of trading ponies!” Luna had snapped. “Thou hast demolished an entire nation of citizens!”
“What would happen if they attacked us after growing larger than Equestria in size and populous?” Celestia had argued.
“My sister would never do such a thing!” Luna shouted. “Show thy true self, Changeling!”
“Perhaps it is thou that is the Changeling, for my sister would never accuse me of mass ponicide,” said Celestia.
One could practically hear Discord cackling madly in the background as the two continued their shouting match.
It was Luna who threw the first blow of magical energy directed at Celestia, who reflexively countered with her own bolt. The two collided in midair with an explosion of magical energy.
“I will banish thee to the moon!” Celestia thundered.
“Nay, I will banish thee to the sun!” Luna had shouted back.
The two stayed at their stalemate for quite some time before Luna, being the younger with less stamina, began to falter.
“I will not let thou destroyest any more innocent ponies!” Luna said breathlessly.
“How will thou stop me?” Celestia had shouted back. “I..am...GOD!”
With this, Celestia’s magical energy broke past Luna’s barrier and hit Luna full-force. Celestia, mad with power, laughed maliciously as she watched her only sister turn into particles of silver dust, which scattered in the wind.
Celestia panted as she watched the dust scatter. “Thou couldst not defeat me,” she said, breathing heavily.
From that day on, Celestia ruled over Equestria alone. And one by one, she turned the other nations to dust. Griffonia, Dragonsdale, every nation that dared to grow large enough for recognition. All crushed under Celestia’s iron hoof.
When Celestia became ruler of the world and everything on it, she sat back, satisfied.
“No one can defeat me,” she sighed. “I am safe.”
And for a hundred years, that is how it was. But Celestia grew restless. What if her own people decided to knock her out of power?
I must not let this happen, she thought. So she cracked down on Equestria. All activity was strictly monitored every day of every week of every month of every year. Any whispers of rebellion were silenced with the swish of a sword.
And one by one, the pony’s hope shattered. One by one, their cities and towns turned gray and dead. One by one, Celestia felt more and more secure.
“I...AM...QUEEN...CORONA!!!” she shouted all across the lands as the very last shards of hope dwindled and were snuffed out with the silence of a candle flame between two hooves.
She was still a quite young mare; situationally clever yet somewhat clumsy. She knew no fear aside from that of spiders. She seriously hated those things. On the occasions she could find a muffin, it felt like Christmas, Halloween, and her birthday all wrapped up in one. She was almost never seen without a smile on her face and, even if her sentences didn’t quite make sense, gave excellent advice on account of being older than the majority of those she led.
Her coat was a pale blue-gray, her slightly ruffled mane and tail the color of straw. Her Cutie Mark was that of four bubbles, and no one including her knew exactly what it meant. But her eyes were the important feature; they were golden-yellow and pointed in two different directions whichever way she happened to look. This condition affected her speech and depth perception as well, but despite this she was an excellent leader and a wonderful friend.
Her name was a long one; thus most referred to her as simply “Commander” “Ditzy” or “Commander Ditzy.” Though the title didn’t quite make sense, as the organization had a minimal if any system of hierarchy.
She was Desiderata “Ditzy” Doo, leader of the Equestrian Rebellion under the memory of Princess Luna, expert smuggler, lover of all things muffin. And, if she did say so herself, pretty handy with a dagger.
At that particular moment, Ditzy was walking down the nearly-empty streets of Ponyville, Equestria, with her mail bag full of letters and small packages. This wasn’t an extraordinary sight. And Ditzy knew the patrollers didn’t know she knew, which makes a little more sense if you break the sentence into parts.
Ponyville was a small town; not so small that one could conceivably know everypony, but large enough as to be called a town. According to history books, it had once been a lively, colorful place, which Ditzy found hard to believe. To her, Ponyville would always be a drab, dead place with 24/7 surveillance and citizens that hid in their houses as much as legally possible.
Ditzy was largely exceptional for the reason she walked around under the gray skies seeming without a care in the world as she carried the mail, occasionally stopping by Sugarcube Corner for a coffee.
But contrary to what citizens thought of Ditzy, she wasn’t just a dim-witted Marefilly. Inside, her mind was sharp as a tack, her splayed eyes noticing every single little detail and her memory recording and storing them for future reference.
There was, of course, no way she’d ever let any citizens aside from those in her ragged little group of rebels know about this. Who would ever suspect a wall-eyed, cheerful, clumsy pegasus mare to be the leader of a rebellion?
So there Ditzy was, walking along with a false content smile on her face, as she slipped into the Everfree Forest underneath the radar. The smile dropped from her face and a serious, focused look replaced it as she broke into a gallop through the mysterious woods.
Despite the fact that Ditzy could see all five dimensions perfectly fine with her eyes the way they were and had used the way they looked to obscure any suspicion about her real mental capabilities, Ditzy still had a lack of depth perception. This fact was hammered into her brain yet again when she collided with a tall, blue box.
“Oww,” Ditzy muttered to herself, putting a hoof to her forehead. “Who would put a box out in the middle of nowhere?”
Ditzy stepped back a little bit to get a better look at the box. It was tall, and blue. And wooden. And had some little words printed on it, too small for Ditzy’s eyes to focus on.
It had a door, too, as evidenced when part of the box creaked open like someone had pushed from the inside.
And someone had. A brown earth pony stallion with an hourglass Cutie Mark.
“Oh, hello there!” he said jovially. Ditzy immediately began calculating the threat level should he be a spy from Queen Corona. “Fancy meeting someone out here! Is this Equestria, by any chance?”
Ditzy automatically put up her dimwitted facade. “Um, I dunno. I kinda lost goat hear...I’m not a clef pepperoni...”
The stallion tilted his head curiously at Ditzy’s words. “Hm, you seem pretty clever to me. Or is it just a trick? Mighty good one, then, if it is.”
Ditzy was caught off-guard. No one had ever seen through her guise before. Cautiously, she focused her right eye--the one with better eyesight-- on him. “How could you tell?” she asked.
“I couldn’t!” said the stallion, earning a facehoof from Ditzy. “Hah, I guess I’m just lucky. But don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”
“It’d better be,” said Ditzy. “I’m pretty handy with a knife.”
The stallion looked surprised. “I suppose this isn’t Equestria, then? No one on Equestria carries weapons except the Royal Guard.”
“No, this is Equestria,” Ditzy assured him. “I guess it’s a different Equestria or something?”
“That must be it,” said the stallion, holding a little metal device in his mouth. It made a noise Ditzy didn’t understand when he looked at it.
“Who are you?” Ditzy finally asked. “And why are you here? Don’t you know you’ll get yourself killed if you put a single hoof out of line?”
“An excellent question, miss,” said the stallion. “You can just call me the Doctor.”
“Doctor who and of what?” Ditzy asked.
“Just the Doctor. And who might you be?” said the Doctor, which was an odd name in Ditzy’s opinion.
“Desiderata Doo, Commander of the Equestrian Rebellion under the memory of Princess Luna, expert smuggler, and mailmare,” Ditzy said proudly, the Everfree forest having not been under surveillance on account of being scheduled for demolition the following month. Corona thought it was too overgrown. “But most people just call me Ditzy.”
“I see,” said the Doctor. “So, tell me about Equestria, if you please.”
Ditzy paused. It wasn’t like her to go spilling information that you could simply get at the library to just anypony. There was no proof he wasn’t, after all, a spy from Corona. But of course, if he were, Ditzy or somepony else would definitely find out.
In the end, the part of Ditzy that was still stubbornly idealistic won out and she spilled the history of her Equestria. The Doctor’s expression changed from interested to doubtful to defeated to hopeful and back again through the course of the story. He hadn’t interrupted at all, which Ditzy appreciated.
“This is definitley not how things are supposed to go,” the Doctor decided. “Well, right then! I’ll help you!”
“We’re all going to die if you do this,” Ditzy deadpanned.
“Everyone dies eventually, and I think it best to die for a cause. So what do you say?” the Doctor answered, extending a hoof to Ditzy. “Am I allowed to work with you, Commander?”
Ditzy thought a minute. “I don’t see why not,” she agreed reluctantly, shaking his extended hoof. “Just be very careful and don’t do anything stupid.”
The headquarters of Commander Ditzy’s rebellion were nothing particularly fancy. Just on the outskirts of the Everfree away from prying Corona eyes and hidden in what was formerly a large rabbit warren, what everyone called “that old hole in the ground” was a point of much pride to Ditzy, even if she couldn’t share that pride with anyone but the four still-living rebels.
“Be very quiet,” Ditzy whispered to the Doctor as she led him to the warren. It was slightly louder than she’d intended, and the Doctor was either too polite to say so or hadn’t noticed.
Part of Ditzy’s mind wondered if she was still sane, leading a stallion she’d met five minutes ago into a secret place only she and a handful of other ponies knew. She’d heard mares in the mail business telling horror stories about stallions they’d just met. Nine times out of ten, they had the creepiest fetishes and turn-ons ever. Ditzy suspected that was just gossipy hens being gossipy hens(no offense intended towards Fluttershy’s chickens), but there was a certain grain of truth in dating horror stories.
Perhaps Ditzy was going insane, but she could tell there was something... different about this pony. Sort of like time slowed down when the two were together. She knew he was no ordinary Earth Pony.
“That’s because he’s the STALLION of your DREAMS!” she could hear her old friend DD squealing in her head.
Ditzy cringed at hearing DD in her head. That wasn’t normal. Ditzy didn’t think like that.
“Something wrong?” the Doctor asked.
“Hm? No, nothing,” Ditzy said hurriedly. “Just thinking, I guess. Oh look, we’re here.”
Ditzy pawed at the ground in front of a hedge on the edge of the Everfree. The Doctor watched in confusion as Ditzy did something very weird.
She stuck her head into the shrub and whispered the word.
“Muffin.”
The Doctor had certainly not expected that, but then again, Ditzy was the kind of mare one didn’t expect normal things from, if that made any sense.
It was at this point Ditzy shoved her whole body in and beckoned for the doctor to follow her with a hoof.
“Are you sure about--” the Doctor began. He was cut off by the muffled sound of a door swishing open. He was about to comment on this when Ditzy, whose wing he had been standing on and whose back left knee was jabbing him in the ribs, vanished.
Of course, she didn’t actually vanish, but this was what the Doctor processed through the leafy foliage of the shrub.
And with a soft thump, he landed in a slightly disoriented pile behind the already-standing Ditzy.
“Who the hay is he?” the irritated voice of a mare demanded. “I mean, Ditzy! Have you lost your mind?”
“Relax, Vinyl, he’s on our side,” said Ditzy as the Doctor slowly got to his feet and took in his surroundings.
He, Ditzy, and three other mares were all inside a dirt room. It was fairly large but still rather cozy. The ceiling was sloped towards the center of the ceiling, secured with gnarled roots. A makeshift door hung on one wall, through the gaps of the door the Doctor glimpsed a glimmer of metal. A large, black box on wheels sat next to what seemed to be a shotgun. An off-white unicorn mare with a violently blue mane had been jabbing a hoof violently at the Doctor when he fell in. She looked at him like he was the friend of someone she hated with vibrant red eyes, a pair of violet sunglasses perched on her forehead. A french gray Earth Pony mare with a dark gray mane was sitting against a wall while polishing a long, curved, wickedly sharp knife as long as her foreleg. She rolled her violet eyes a little at the unicorn’s angry tone, as if something like that had happened before. Lastly a cream-colored Earth Pony with a navy blue and pink curled mane had paused in her drawing in a notebook, copying a drawing from the book she was reading.
“Fascinating,” he said as he looked around. “Was this the resistance you told me about? I must say, I was expecting something...more.”
“Then find another universe,” the cream-colored mare deadpanned.
“I know it isn’t much,” said Ditzy patiently. “But it’ll save the world, I’m possible.”
“I think you mean ‘positive,’” said the cream mare.
“Right. Yes. Thank you, Bonbon,” Ditzy said with a nod. “I’m positive.”
“Well then, if we’re going to save the world and set things right again, we need a plan!” the Doctor said cheerfully.
“What’s with this ‘we’ stuff?” the white mare demanded, glaring at the Doctor. “Who the hay are you, anyway?”
“I’m the Doctor,” said the Doctor proudly.
“Doctor who?” the white mare asked.
“Exactly,” both the Doctor and Ditzy say at the same time, the Doctor proudly, Ditzy with an exasperated sigh.
“Well, so long as we’re doing introductions,” said the gray mare briskly as she stood up. “I’m Octavia Philharmonica, but most just call me--”
“Octy,” the white mare jumped in. “She loves being called Octy. Call her that as much as possible.”
“Vinyl!” Octavia snaps. “That is a lie, don’t believe anything she says. Call me Octavia.”
“You’re such a spoilsport, Octy,” says the white mare with mock hurt, sticking her tongue out playfully at Octavia. “I’m Vinyl Scratch, also known as DJ-P0N-3, only THE BEST DJ in Equestria!”
She finished the slightly hammy introduction with a proud flourish, powersliding on the dirt floor and striking a pose like she was waiting for someone in the sky to come tackle-hug her.
“And you are?” said the Doctor, turning to Bonbon.
“Bonbon,” says the mare curtly, bobbing her head in the Doctor’s direction. “Just Bonbon.”
“Well then!” said the Doctor brightly. “I suppose you lot have some sort of plan?”
“Sort of,” Ditzy said, turning to Bonbon. “Bonbon, you’re on chapter seven, right?”
Bonbon nodded.
“Wait, what?” the Doctor says, confused.
Bonbon closed the book she was reading and held it up with a hoof. It’s a simple-looking red leather journal with a spine that’s falling apart at the ends and a few loose, yellowing pages. The cursive name Heartstrings and a small lyre was stitched across the cover in yellow thread.
“This is a journal of strategies,” Bonbon explained. “My... friend Lyra wrote it years ago. Chapter seven is different plans for reconnaissance missions.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, why haven’t you lot done anything yet?” the Doctor asked with a notation that could only be described as innocent.
Ditzy resisted the urge to buck him across the face. He was just a visitor, he didn’t even know who Queen Corona was, he didn’t know anything. No need to give him a concussion.
“Look,” said Bonbon as she spread a map of Queen Corona’s palace on the rock-constructed table. “There are guards here, here, here, and here,”--she points in turn to all four entrances to the palace-- “As well as a constant rotating patrol around the battlements on the ground floor, the walkway encircling it twenty feet up, and the roof of the battlements, as well as circular watchtowers every forty feet around the premises both outside, on, and within the battlements.” With that, Bonbon moves her hoof to the palace’s high roof in the center. “Add a 24/7 watch force on the roof, and that equals no plausible way for anyone to get in. Corona really doesn’t want visitors.” “So you believe it’s impossible,” said the Doctor.
“Essentially, yes,” Ditzy added. “I don’t suppose you have a way to teleport or something?”
“Well, yes,” the Doctor admitted. “But it makes a lot of noise, and I don’t suppose you’d want that on a reconnaissance mission. Is there a-a-an underground passage or somesuch thing?”
Bonbon opened the journal and briefly flipped through the pages. “Well...” she begins carefully. “Lyra does say something about a cellar. But the doors are probably locked.”
“Oh, that won’t be a problem!” said the Doctor cheerfully, pulling out his faithful sonic screwdriver. “Thish ‘ill devishe ish exchellench a’ op’nin lockhs,” he said with the screwdriver in his mouth in the absence of hands.
Vinyl stood up proudly, snatching the shotgun in a magical grip. “Well alright then! Let’s kick some flank!” she said with a giant grin on her face.
“Hold your horses, Vinyl,” said Ditzy. “We’re still not sure about whether the entrance even exists or not.”
“We would need a small party,” Octavia contributed. “Ditzy is the prime choice, being a pegasus.”
“Then I’ll take the Doctor,” said Ditzy. “He is the one with the open-lock-device-thingy.”
“So it’s decided,” said Octavia as Ditzy and the Doctor walk for the exit. “Just be careful out there.”
“Don’t worry, Octavia,” said Ditzy as she walked face-first into the side of the door with an ouch.
“Should... should I trust her flying?” the Doctor asked cautiously.
“I can see in all five dimensions just fine,” Ditzy said nonchalantly, taking the Doctor’s forehoof. “Now let’s go, spaceman, time’s a-wasting.”
“Five? Five?” the Doctor asked, a bit panicky, as Ditzy tugs him away.
Vinyl walked over to Octavia as the two left. “You hear DD too, right?” she asked, which is responded to with a nod.
Ditzy Doo just couldn't catch a break. Recon in Corona's castle had gone swimmingly up until she and the Doctor found the booby traps. They'd dug up some dirt(Corona hated tea!), stayed out of sight, and Ditzy even managed to grab a couple of portable laser cannons and a ring of keys for something she didn't know but felt like it would be important later. All was going great until Ditzy’s tail brushed against the wall in a corridor, and then all hell broke loose. Out-of-tune trumpets, smoke, guards armed with weapons Ditzy had never seen before, but the Doctor froze like a deer in the headlights when he saw them, so Ditzy figured that wasn’t a good thing at all. As far as Ditzy knew, it was a short amount of time that chaos reigned, though it was possible she’d been knocked out. She at least hoped that, during the time she couldn’t remember, she put up a good fight. The next thing Ditzy knew, she was in stone room with iron bars on the door and water dripping from the ceiling. The Doctor was in the next room, separated by a wall of more bars. “Well, great,” said Ditzy, her voice echoing off the walls. “Just great.” The Doctor didn’t respond. When Ditzy looked at him, she could practically see the gears in his mind turning at a million miles an hour. Ditzy absently looked around and cringed at seeing a spider making a web on the far wall. For an hour or so, Ditzy and the Doctor sat in Corona’s dungeon, passing time in stifling silence. The Doctor didn’t talk much. Ditzy assumed he was still lost in thought. So Ditzy began to think. The bars were made of iron, or some kind of strong metal. Even if she could buck pretty hard, she couldn’t break solid iron. (She had heard about a filly who could, though. What was her name? Apple-something? It had something to do with apples.) The walls were three feet thick and made of cement and stone. If she kicked that, she might as well have been trying to destroy a volcano with a piece of straw or something. “So what exactly are you thinking about?” Ditzy asked the Doctor when her mind failed to come up with an escape plan that would work under the circumstances. “They have Dalek weapons,” the Doctor murmured. “This isn’t good.” “What the hay are Daleks?” Ditzy asked irritably. “You’re not making any sense at all!” “The Daleks,” The Doctor began. “Are an alien race that live in metal tanks that generally kill everything. Not fun to deal with at all.” Ditzy wrinkled her nose. “Definitley not.” “If these pe--ponies have Dalek weapons, that means they’re either working with them or they took down a platoon and figured out how to use their technology,” said the Doctor briskly. “Bad?” Ditzy guessed. “This is a bigger temporal-dimensional mess than I thought,” the Doctor murmured. “If a merge like this is left unattended to, then the fabric of time itself could unravel.” “Bad,” Ditzy summed up. “So, any ideas to get us out of here?” Judging from his facial expression, the Doctor had been about to say something, but stopped short, and Ditzy found out why about five seconds later. “No talking,” someone barked. Ditzy turned to the voice, and faced a teenaged unicorn filly with a no-nonsense expression that just didn’t work at all with her young face. It actually looked cute, like she was trying to act much older than she was. Ditzy raised an eyebrow and focused her right eye on the filly. “And just who are you?” “Professor Twilight Sparkle, lieutenant and protégé to our Queen Corona,” she said in a businesslike manner. Ditzy scoffed. “Professor? You’re younger than I am.” “Professor” Twilight Sparkle smirked. “But I’m taller.” Ditzy glared at her. “That’s low.” “Queen Corona sent me to make sure neither of you got any funny ideas--OUCH!” said Professor Sparkle, interrupted mid-sentence by Ditzy’s hind hooves. Ditzy wasn’t above hitting young people and certainly wasn’t above hitting fillies when the need arose, but she didn’t make a habit of it. After all, it wasn’t like the dim-witted, goofy neighborhood mailmare to go around bucking people. “Come on!” Ditzy shouted to the Doctor as she snatched Professor Sparkle’s keys, bolting out the opened door and opening the Doctor’s in a heartbeat. Ditzy wasn’t exactly sure why she only got good ideas when she had a second to come up with them. “You’re brilliant!” the Doctor shouted to Ditzy as they ran at full-tilt down the dank hallways lit with torches. “I think it was a reflex!” Ditzy shouted back. “I’m not sure!” Ditzy had absolutely no idea where they were going, though it wouldn’t be good form to let the Doctor know this, so she whipped around corners without second thoughts. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, Ditzy thought in the split second before she and the Doctor plowed into a group of fillies and colts ranging in age from barely out of diapers to Professor Sparkle’s age. But neither of them stopped. Ditzy was too busy trying not to get stabbed. Why in Equestria were there toddlers carrying bayonets? With another crash through a pod of armed Royal Guards(one of whom had Ditzy’s mailbag, by a stroke of sheer luck), Ditzy and the Doctor were out of Corona’s castle and disappeared into the thicket of woods outside the palace. Ditzy skidded to a stop under an archway made of a bent-over dead tree and spat out the strap of her bag which contained the things she’d swiped earlier. “I think we’re safe now,” she said to the Doctor, who had reunited with his Sonic Screwdriver. Her bag seemed unusually heavy, now that she thought about it. That was when she realized they weren’t alone.