Author's Notes:

The featured song is actually a song my mother used to really sing to me when I was younger. I've always remembered most of it, but I began to wonder if it was an old song from the years before there was accessible media, passed down from generation to generation.

It turns out this was not the case. The song is actually considerably recent, within the past 30 years it looks like, and was sung by Diana Ross. The song is called "Do You Know?"

Despite the less 'romantic' origins of the song as compared to what I had assumed, I still hold the song very close to my heart, because the way my mother sung it at my bedside... it was more of a lullaby than the original way it was presented, and I feel is still more a part of my mother than the person who made it up. If that makes sense, even as wrong as that may technically be.

A week had passed. Scootaloo’s ribs were only cracked, and she was out of the hospital quicker than most. Even Nurse Redheart was surprised by her speed of recovery. In that week, I had apologized to the nurse for my actions, and revealed to her the fact that Aurora had left me. She was less than sympathetic, saying that I probably deserved it if I treated all mares the way I had treated the poor Nurse a few days prior. I didn’t tell her about the note, and just left the indignant nurse to draw her own conclusions about the nature of Aurora's leaving.

In the beginning of her absence, with the dawn of each day, Aurora left me a feather. A reminder that she was still out there, and was still thinking about me. I kept a candle lit on the bedside table just for her and the window unlocked. Just in case she wanted to come home.

Scootaloo was surprised when she’d found out that I had continued training without her, and even more surprised when I introduced her to Fray, the little white cloud-thing that was the ‘physical’ manifestation of my brain-buddy. Scootaloo and Fray talked for hours, asking questions and giving answers to one another, and somehow I felt I was getting closer to both of them.

I asked to return to work as Scootaloo’s training came to an end, and after a thorough test of strength, agility, and speed, I was cleared to do so.

My first day back was… interesting. I reported into Paper Plane’s office, who greeted me with a smile and hooves held wide.

“Welcome back, son.” he said as he offered a hoof in greeting, getting up from behind the desk, “We’ve been mighty worried about you, especially after hearing about that encounter with that Trixie character.”

I sighed, remembering back to that night. Everything had changed so much.

Speaking of strange...

“Hello.” Fray greeted, popping out from under my mane as a small, blobby looking floating creature that was barely reminiscent of a pony with exceptionally large, marshallowy-looking ears, “I am Fray.”

Fray had begun to change as it had learned more things, and become more aware of pony concepts and its entrance was something we had discussed, its materialization from beneath my mane making it seem like that it hid there, instead of the stranger truth of the matter. Its voice hadn’t changed, which was notably genderless, albeit small, airy, and analytical.

“Well now…” Paper Plane asked, “What’s this you’ve got?”

I began introductions, somewhat tired of doing them. I’d had to do this for nearly everypony I’d met in Ponyville, since Fray refused to stay in my head when we weren’t on the move.

“As it said… this is Fray” I sighed, “Fray is… my assistant.”

Fray had insisted on being called an assistant. It couldn’t feel anything physically, and relied on me for transportation, information, and explanations. I didn’t mind that, but it was a little silly calling what amounted to a ghostly-looking pony-blob rabbit-thing my assistant. I couldn’t complain, though. While Fray was in that form, it did all of its calculations outside my head which was something that we found impossible while it was sitting in my brain, keeping me from focusing or sleeping while it did. Unfortunately for us both though I couldn’t draw on its power and it couldn’t draw on my memories and knowledge while it was hovering about on the outside.

Yet, that is.

“Well…” Paper Plane reasoned, “It’s not the strangest thing I’ve seen.”

I was hearing that a lot lately.

“Okay, sir.” I fumed a little, “Just out of curiosity, what IS the strangest thing you’ve ever seen?”

By the time Paper Plane was done telling his story, my mouth was agape. Even Fray was silent. I’d tell you, but it’d be too long, and he’s requested that the story not be told until he’s passed away.

“And that’s how I came to own the Canterlotian Cargo Company.” he finished, slapping me on the back with a forehoof, “It’s good to have you back, kiddo.”

And with that I was sent back out the door I’d come through. It was almost Sundown by then, and, for everypony who worked at the CCC, that meant it was time to eat.

“Paper Plane is interesting.” Fray commented simply.

“Agreed.” I noted, “There’s a lot more to him than I thought.”

“Is it… sad?” Fray asked.

I looked to the little ghost-like blob-pony and asked, as I tilted my head, “Is what sad?”

The airy voice almost seemed to have some emotion when it asked, “His wife. Is that… sad?”

I nodded, “It is. Why are you asking?”

“What is sadness?”

“Hop in and I’ll do my best to explain.”

Fray let loose a squeal of excitement, dove into my mane, and into my brain. It wasn’t often that I ‘invited’ it into my skull, but when I did it usually meant that some new concept was going to be revealed to it, something which it seemed to revel in. I was not looking forward to the explanation because to do so, I found it was most effective to include all the things I remembered.

All of them. Even the emotions that I felt, and when I did so, it was like reliving everything all over again.

Fray and I headed out onto the field and out towards the terminal, where a food court had recently been built as I explained the concept of sadness. I showed my ever-present companion mental images of things I’d seen, then recalled the feelings that it had invoked in me. I showed it what it was to cry, to miss ponies that I loved, to experience loss. Memories of my parent’s funeral, the long nights alone and, more recently, the loss of Aurora.

When I was through, it felt like I’d been through an eternity of sorrow, but shook it quickly as we approached the food court. I reminded myself that they were memories now, and that I’d already moved on. With the exception of Aurora.

“I do not like sadness…” Fray confided in me as it exited through the back of my skull and out back into the world, “How does one… cope… with this feeling?”

“By living.” I told it, “You just have to… you just have to keep going.”

“Will you do the same with Aurora?” it asked, a twinge of what I could swear might have been worry seeping into its high pitched voice, “Are you going to keep going?”

I didn’t answer.

“I’m hungry. Let’s get some food.”

Eating with Fray was somewhat amusing, and helped me get my mind off of things. Fray had no physical body, and so its knowledge of taste was limited to what I consumed instead. I told Fray that it could access all of my eating memories if it wanted, but the silly thing insisted that it wasn’t the same as actually being there for it. I didn’t know how true that was, but accepted it as fact when it basically orgasmed in my brain when I took a bite of cheese pizza for the first time.

I never thought pizza was all that great but.. to each their own, right?

“What are we going to try today?” it asked, settling in my head as if it were sitting at a dining room table with a knife and fork and a little bib, “What new foods will we get to experience?”

I sighed, smiling a bit, “You know it’s really only you that doesn’t know what these things taste like, right?” I asked, “I’ve eaten this stuff before, so it’s not that new to me.”

“I could fix that for you… you could have the same wonder as I do, if you let me mess with your memories a bit.”

I declined. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Fray with my memories, it was just that I didn’t need to be having muscle spasms or rolling all over the the floor, all the while declaring how lovely that macaroni and cheese was, just because I was ‘tasting something for the first time’ again.

Yeah. I had been there, and done that. Didn’t want to do it again.

I stared up at the menu of a particularly expensive restaurant and considered my options while Fray bounced around in my head like a foal at an ice cream parlor, yelling all the things it wanted to try. I was thankful that, for the most part, I wasn’t compelled to say things that it was screaming though.

Meanwhile, as Fray did its usual thing, I observed a pony from across the room whom I recognized. Crater Run strolled in staring up at the signs above each restaurant as if he was unable to decide which to go to that day. I waved a hoof in his direction, calling to him as Fray asked who it was. I sent the usual set memories to it that would help describe somepony I knew. It was easier for Fray to look them up, but it and I had come to an agreement: Don’t poke around unless I gave it permission. Sometimes memories that it got into earlier on brought back ill feelings and hurt. Instead, I told Fray that it had free reign of everything starting with it’s ‘birth’ on into the future, effectively telling it that my past was locked and that it was not to try to access.

It didn’t understand why, but agreed anyways, stating that there was plenty that it had not experienced, and that it would rather ‘be there’ than simply watch it happen as was apparently the case with “memory reading” as Fray called it.

Crater Run hobbled over. He had a bad hip that wasn’t always noticeable in his walk either in that he hid it well or that it simply didn’t always bother him.

“Hey there.” Crater greeted, “Nice to see you’re back. News about your disappearance has been… kind of dark.”

I sighed.

“Did you really…?” he asked.

I nodded, “Yes. I went to Trixie in search of a way to become a Pegasus. Stupid as it was. She used dark magic, and it messed me up pretty good. Even Aurora’s gone now.” I told Crater, sighing heavily, “I’ve lost everything except this job. Even one of my best friends turned on me, and he’s gone now too.”

Crater tapped a hoof on his chin, “I dunno.” the older stallion mused, “The way you talked about her this past year… I can’t see her leaving without a good reason.”

That made my blood boil a little, “What do you mean by that?” I asked with a seething tone.

“Hold on a minute, Little Brother.” he explained, using the pet name he’d given to me when I’d first arrived to work, come in contact with Smokes, and subsequently sought Crater out for advice, “That’s not what I meant.”

I just gave him an expectant, angry look.

“I meant that she doesn’t seem the type to bolt on somepony. It’s just not like her, from what you’ve told me.”

I sighed, the anger draining away. I remembered the note from earlier that week.

“Let’s just get something to eat.” I suggested as I stood up and headed for a bagel shop, “I’m hungry, and next shift starts soon.”

I didn’t show Fray to Crater. There was too much to explain about it and not nearly enough time to do so. I had to make sure that I could keep working, as it was my last solace in a world that, like it’s then-current season, was very, very cold. This meant wasting as little time as possible and not getting caught up in explanations. Fray wanted to come out, of course, but sating its desire for discovery was as simple as chowing down on a egg and cheese filled bagel.

I’d rue the day that it was no longer so easy.

The day went as easily as any other, if not more so. Fray insisted upon helping me as it asked questions about the various parts and pieces of the cargo craft we were unloading. Staggering was Fray’s thirst for knowledge. The more it learned, the more questions it had. In fact, at some point it had asked why we were pushing a box in a specific way, and by the end of our conversation the subject had turned towards the way muscles and bones worked together. I didn’t have a complete understanding of the workings of my body, which bothered Fray considerably because it meant that I had only a partial understanding, and in turn, so did it. I promised that we’d go to the Golden Oak Library just as soon as we had time.

Then Fray asked what a library was.

Things went like that for a while. Every day I would go to work, every night I would return. Fray kept begging that we going into the Everfree, because it could ‘sense’ something calling us there. I told it that I couldn’t afford to get hurt again so soon, and that we’d have to wait to go on another excursion until I had some time off. I think Fray could tell that I had no intention of going there at all, which agitated my floating friend more than I liked, affecting my moods and casting a slightly dark cloud over my day until I could distract it with something else.

A week passed and every day I found a feather on my bedside table, covered in Cloudspire. The candle I had lit there the first time I’d found one of Aurora’s feathers there stayed lit through the night as well as the day. I went through two candles that week, waiting for her to return and show her face. I even left her a note stating that as long as the candle was lit and the window was open, she could come back home. She left two feathers in response.

Another week came and went, and Fray’s insistence had become more forward. I found it trying to take over my body and force us into the forest at one point, until I booted it from my mind and didn’t let it in again until it promised not to do so again. Being outside for too long scared it, and after about an hour, it was begging to go back inside my head. For a few days, I didn’t hear anything about the Everfree.

And then the feathers started appearing with less frequency. At first it was every other day. Then it was once a week. Soon they stopped appearing altogether. What I had fear was coming true. Aurora had either forgotten me, or simply found somepony else to fill the void left by my actions. Work became a dark, unhappy thing, and when I awoke one night standing in front of the Everfree with Fray asleep and therefore not the cause of my sudden appearance there, I decided that it was time to speak with Paper Plane again.

The next day, I was called into the office without even asking, as if somepony had known. Fortunately or not, that was not the case.

“Air Ramp.” Paper Plane greeted without getting up from his desk, “Come in.”

I stepped into the room, my hooves echoing with their hollow sound in the spacious room.

“Sit.” he commanded.

I did so, and took to my haunches on a soft, rather comfortable seat. Fray floated out from behind my hair, and settled on my shoulder. Silence filled the air, only broken by the sound of a pen, with which Paper Plane wrote on some parchment. It didn’t take him long to finish whatever he had been working on, after which the older stallion rolled up the scroll, stamped it with some red sealing wax, and set it off to the side.

“Air, I’m concerned.” he began, “You’ve been very down lately.”

I said nothing, there wasn’t anything to say.

“Crater has been talking to me, keeping me updated on how you’re doing.”

That made me a little angry, “And why was he doing that?” I asked with a frown.

“I had him do so because of Fray.” he openly admitted, “The nature of your friend there is unknown entirely. I had to make sure-”

“What? Make sure I wasn’t going to lose my mind?” I asked, gritting my teeth a little, “That I wasn’t going to snap?”

“Wait a minute-”

I stood and stomped my hoof, “No. I’m not going to ‘wait a minute!’ I just lost somepony I loved, my friend attacked me, I haven’t even SEEN the other one, and Fray here keeps saying we need to go into the Everfree to the point that I woke up there a couple of nights ago!” I heaved, “If anything, I just want to be left the heck alone and not SPIED on by the only other real friend I have!”

Paper Plane just stared at me for a moment, then sighed, “I think you should go.”

My heart stopped for a minute.

“Go?” I choked.

My boss nodded, “Go into the Everfree. It’s clear that whatever Fray wants… it’s going to keep bothering you about it until it gets it.” he reasoned, “Come back when you’ve figured that out.”

I stood, speechless.

“That’s an order. Go. Don’t come back until you’re done in the Everfree.”

So that was it. I lost my job. I mean, not technically. I could come back once I finished searching or finding whatever I needed to find or learn in the Everfree. But something about that call, something about the way Fray acted when it set its sights on it made my skin crawl. I knew somehow, that if I went in there, then I would not come out the same and I would not be returning to my job.

I wanted somepony, something to blame. Anything. Circumstance, Fray, anything. But I couldn’t blame the circumstance, and I couldn’t blame Fray. I tried to blame Aurora, but that made me feel sick inside. Even blaming myself just paled in such a way that I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I was on a joy-ride to Tartarus that I could not really control, and had no idea where the next stop would be, or if there’d even be a stop at all.

“Come on…” I growled at Fray, my mood completely fouled, “Let’s get home so I can pack.”

Fray and I headed out the door and onto the airfield. Smokes barked at me, but I just ignored him. It wasn’t worth the fight, or the explanation. As he continued his griping behind my back, I headed off the airfield, staring up at the magically-held-aloft aircraft above me. Fray was silent and I could feel the strangest, slightest twinge of emotion that wasn’t mine. It felt like sorrow, and a little shame. I considered that maybe Fray blamed itself for what had just happened, and was beginning to comprehend what it meant to be embarrassed or ashamed of its actions. As I thought about that, the emotion intensified, and I had to try to block it.

“Fray.” I called in my mind, “Fray, what’s wrong?”

Fray didn’t answer, but feelings of confusion and bewilderment returned my guess as true. I needed to learn to block my thoughts and block incoming thoughts as well, for Fray’s sake as well as mine.

We entered the field between Ponyville and the airfield. Harvest had come and gone, leaving a tangled mess of hibernating grasses, most of which had turned brown by that time. Each step crunched the grasses, trampling a small path in the open expanse.

“Fray?” I asked again.

The small, pony-blob rabbit-eared spirit floated out from its hiding place in my skull. There were new features on its face that I had not seen before. Small, almost pencil-line eyebrows and a little mouth had appeared. When Fray spoke, the mouth didn’t move, but I could see it open when it was talking, and close when it wasn’t. The eyebrows moved rudimentarily with its mood, and right then it looked very sad.

“I have caused you to lose your work. I am sad.” it seemed to sniffle mentally as it revealed its feelings vocally.

I shook my head, “No. No you didn’t.” I smiled just a little, “I should have listened. Paper Plane would have understood. I know he would. We should have gone into the Everfree long before now.”

“But… now you do not have anything. Aurora is gone. Cold Thorn is gone. You cared about them. They are now gone because of me.”

I sighed, “Come on. We both know that you couldn’t help what happened before we met Trixie together.”

“I… do not understand. Why are you being kind to me after what my presence has caused?”

“Come inside, and I’ll show you.” I offered, “It’s a little something called friendship and forgiveness.”

My little blob begrudgingly returned to it’s home in my consciousness, trying to hide its excitement at learning of a new concept. Clearing my mind of all other distractions, something that I had found helped us connect a little better, I began thinking of single concepts, retrieving single memories, and piecing them together for maximum effect. When I was done gathering the memories, feelings, and ideas I began sending them directly to Fray in an order that I felt would help explain things best.

The first memory I sent to Fray was one that I held onto with a fondness that warmed me in the cold. Simple in its nature, it spoke of a summer many years in the past that I and my family had spent working at Sweet Apple Acres. I imagined warmth and sunlight that was glaring and wonderful at the same time. The feel of grass beneath my hooves and the exhilaration of running after somepony, trying to catch them. It was back when AJ and I were just foals, playing in the fields under the watchful eye of Granny Smith. She and I had been engaged in a game of tag, when she came to a stop. Thinking I had her, I tackled her, sending us both into a stream that I hadn’t realized was there. Both of us went tumbling into the cold water with a small yelp.

I had been afraid that AJ would be mad, but she hadn’t been. Well, not really. At first, she seemed shocked and a little angry. Seeing that I was wet too, though, my Earth Pony opponent just laughed and gave me a hug.

That was forgiveness in one way. I could tell that it didn’t resonate very well with Fray, so I sent another memory to it, one that was more recent, and caused pain in my heart. The memory was of the hospital. Scootaloo was in the bed in front of me, some days after my fight with Cold Thorn. I sent it flashes of the fight between points in the memory, including the part where my then-companion had been attacked and knocked cold by our enemy. The memory then turned back to me asking Scootaloo for forgiveness, and apologizing profusely for not protecting her. Scootaloo just smiled, much like Applejack had, and told me it was fine.

Once again, the memory did not resonate with Fray. It did not know enough about Scootaloo or our relationship for it to fully grasp the concept I was trying to teach.

Again, I tried. The final memory I had to show Fray was that of when I was small, before I’d even met AJ. I had broken my father’s pocket-watch. He had told me not to play with it, but I had anyways. When I broke it, I began to cry, knowing I would be in trouble. He stared down at me and shook his head, telling me that he was very disappointed with me. I remember it being the worst feeling I had ever felt. As I cried out, saying that I was sorry, my father opened his forehooves wide, and I went running to him with the watch. My father hugged me, and I just knew somehow that I was forgiven. He then took the watch and opened it up, and the rest of the night we spent fixing it.

Come to think of it, it was rather strange that my father could fix a watch. Those things were very complicated, and he wasn’t exactly a watchmaker.

At any rate, Fray understood the final memory, much to my relief. I smiled outwardly.

“Forgiveness is what happens when a pony does something wrong, and somepony else lets them know that it’s okay.” I explained out loud, “But that doesn’t mean that you can go off and do it again. Forgiveness is something that’s given when the pony that did something wrong is very, truly sorry.”

I could ‘hear’ Fray processing the information, drawing conclusions. It was like music, but abstract and impossible to follow unless you were in tune with it. Impossible, beautiful music.

“I think I understand.” Fray told me, “I think I am… sorry.”

“I know you are, but don’t worry about it. It wasn’t really your fault.” I told it mentally as I stood once more, Fray floating next to me once more as we headed back towards home, “Everything that has happened is my fault, or at least partly my fault.”

“I do not understand.”

“Maybe I’ll tell you some time.”

The sun was setting over the field as we exited. Cold winds swept in from the North, blowing through my mane with a harsh, knife-like caress. My companion did not feel the wind, of course, being a ghostly blob. I wasn’t one to complain though. Winter was my second favorite season because, when snow blanketed the ground, it leant a sort of mystery to the world, covering up all the little details that we ponies often took for granted. There was also something attractive about the cold in some sicker sense, the way it was harsh and dangerous and could freeze a pony to death. I wasn’t really a huge fan of self-inflicted physical suffering, but cold weather really was just something that I could take in stride while other ponies had to wrap up in scarves and other warm knits, giving me a sense of pride in myself, if even just a little.

It wasn’t long before my hooves hit the cobblestone streets of Ponyville once again, but unlike when I had left, my heart was heavy enough to drag my head into the dirt.

Figuratively speaking, of course.

I strolled through the streets, each building looking more gloomy and gray in color than the last. Fray hovered silently at my side, not even a single tittering sound escaping its mouth. A cute little bat pony mare smiled at me shyly as I passed her on my way, but in my destitute state, I didn’t even afford her a glance.

I was in no shape to start looking for a new special somepony anyways. She was pretty cute though. I hope she found a loving special somepony of her own.

Staring up at my home brought a sense of both relief and disharmony to my mind. There, inside, lay so many memories that I cherished. Those memories were all I had at the time as I opened the wooden door to view the gloomy interior of a home that, only a month ago, would have been alight with a fire and filled with the smell of a fresh meal. And if not a fresh meal, then a note would have been left on the table next to the couch in front of the fireplace.

All that remained of such notions were cinders, ashes, and a pile of dishes that I simply was unable to bring myself to wash for lack of motivation. The stench was becoming stale, but sometimes still acrid despite the age of its cause.

Stepping inside, I pushed the door shut with a slow buck from my left hindhoof, turned, then locked the door and let loose a heavy sigh.I wanted to just fall onto the floor and sleep right there, but I knew it would be fruitless. I’d tried the same thing earlier that week. Fray too seemed to be affected by my mood, which was not unusual considering its home was my mind. The little thing flopped down on my mane, right on top of my head, and it made me laugh a little.

Fray knew a little bit about cheering me up, and had recently figured out how to make it seem like it was actually corporeal and couldn’t pass through things like a ghost. The knowledge had opened up a huge amount of expressiveness for the little floating bunny-blob pony-ghost, and it was always at least a little entertaining, because Fray was pretty dramatic in the way it executed such actions.

“We should eat something.” Fray complained, “It is almost past the optimal window for consuming nutrients.”

“Food.” I suggested, “You can also call it food.”

Sometimes I forgot that it felt what I felt, being connected to me as deeply as Fray was. Hunger, sadness, insecurity… all of those things were felt at least to some degree when Fray was outside my head, but even more so when it was floating around in my mind with nothing to do. Only when it was distracted with learning something or processing some kind of information or other, did Fray take on its own personality and was able to ignore my moods.

I sort of felt sorry for it.

In any event, Fray and I headed for the kitchen, the putrefied smell of congealed carrots and other things wafting softly into the hallway as we approached. A few weeks ago, I might have gagged, but by that time I had become very used to it and simply bypassed the mess, opened the refrigerator and nabbed the nearest still-edible thing that lay inside. Fray and I sat at the table, it taking up a place inside my head as I began to chew, swallow, and repeat. This fascinated Fray to no end, and made me smile just a little to myself until we finished our meal in exterior silence. Of course, my mind was ablaze with the various yippings and yammerings of my ghostly friend, but I didn’t mind and we finished up quickly.

“Fray… we’re leaving tomorrow. The sooner we check out your ‘call’ the better. But first...” I told it as it floated out in front of me, “... we need to gather supplies.”

“What kind of supplies?” Fray asked, “Food?”

I let loose a short burst of shallow, albeit amiable laughter, “Yes, food. But we’ll also need some basic survival tools. Flint, steel, a sleeping bag, a shovel, an axe… basically all the things we’d need for camping.”

“Camping?”

“You’ll see tomorrow.”

With that, I headed into my bedroom, glancing over at the bedside table where, a few weeks ago a feather would have been waiting for me. Recently, I had been unable to bring myself to sleep in that bed, or even be in the room for more than a few minutes, so I opened the door to one of the closets and hastily nabbed up all the things I would need, and shoved them into a saddlepack. Anything that didn’t fit, I either hung on the outside or dragged into the hallway and out into the living room. I had to repack it all anyways for both efficiency and size’s sake.

When the packing was complete, I did a mental checklist of everything I had fit into the packs to make sure I had not forgotten anything and then made my way to the shower. I was going to miss being able to take them, of that much I was certain, so Fray and I stayed in the tub and enjoyed the sound and feeling of warm water beating down on my body, and relaxing my soul. It was the only time I could really think, being in that tub. It was a refuge with its closed door, steamy clouds of water vapor, and undeniable warmth in such a way that I felt as if I’d stepped into another world where nothing else mattered except sitting there. Fray had taken up a position on a soap brick, kicking its stubby bunny-pony legs as it did so and whistling a tune that I know it had stolen from my past memories.

I didn’t mind though, it was a special tune… one that transcended even the recent events that had torn my life apart.

I smiled, and began to sing the lullaby that my mother used to sing when I couldn’t sleep or had bad dreams.

I went on like that for a while… and eventually found that Fray had fallen asleep on the soap bar. I picked the little blob-pony rabbit-creature up and…

… Wait…

How was that possible? It had never had a truly physical form before…

I shrugged and cradled the little thing in my forehooves before standing and turning the shower off, stepping carefully out of the tub so as not to awaken it, and heading back into the bedroom where I placed Fray on the bed, dried myself off and got to work on making a small bed for it.

It was simple, really… I had an old horseshoe box that served the function perfectly, and I stuffed it with all sorts of small, warm blanket-like things to keep Fray warm, just in case it actually felt cold. I couldn’t be sure about that after all, so strange was my ever-present companion.

When I finished, though, I realized I had no where to put the makeshift bed. I couldn’t put it on the floor… that seemed wrong somehow. I swore I’d get Fray a legitimate bed that matched its size as soon as we got back and looked around for something to set it upon.

Then I saw the candle that I had lit for Aurora. It still burned and had burned since the night she left. I reached up with a hoof, and took hold of the base where it sat, then pulled it forward and blew it out, closed the window, locked it, and placed Fray’s shoebox on the bedside table.