In a swing basking in the sunlight, an old stallion sits. The air smells of grass and roses. In the trees beyond a high stone fence, which surrounds the small yard completely, scores of birds sing. He nods absentmindedly in their rhythm, even lets out a short whistle or two of his own. Everything is alright, he feels. And soon it will be time to eat.

“Hello,” says a soft voice by his side. He looks at the speaker: a young mare, beautiful like the day. He knows her.

“Ah, you finally came,” he says, flashing a toothless smile. “I say, you did take your sweet time.”

The mare looks confused. “You were expecting me?”

He rolls his eyes. “Of course I was, Pep. For bloody thirty years.” He smiles again. “My word, you haven’t aged a day.”

She studies him with bright green eyes. “May I sit with you for a while?”

He moves aside on the swing, patting the empty spot invitingly. “For all day, if you please.”

She sits down. The birds keep on singing, the grass growing. Behind them, a male nurse talks with another one, never once letting the two ponies out of sight. She keeps on glancing the top of his head.

He notices that. “It’s a blessing, really,” he says. “It can be so awkward at times, poking everything and so on. And you never notice how heavy it is until you get old.” He touches the stump of his horn. “I still would’ve liked to keep it in a drawer or something. It’s a shame that they didn’t let me.”

She looks again at his clean-cut stump, and then touches her own horn. A faint shudder travels over her.

“Do you… know why you are here?” she asks.

He gives her a confused look. “You mean, in this world…?”

“No: in this place. In the Everdream Hospital?”

He gives this a thought. “Where else should I be?”

She has no answer to that. They wait in silence, but for what, neither can tell.

“Are you happy?” she finally asks.

“I like to think so,” he says, watching the wall intently, as if reading it. The grey eyes turn to her. “It helps that you finally came back. Although… I’m not sure anymore why you left in the first place…” The idea seems to disturb him greatly. “My memory just isn’t what it used to be, lately…”

She swallows, and turns her face away. She stands up. “It was nice to meet you, Professor. Have a nice day.” She turns away.

He looks confused. “You’re not staying for dinner? It’s Wednesday. That means daisy pie for dessert.” He smiles again. “I remember that much, at least.”

She doesn’t stop. He looks at her go all the way to the door, where she exchanges a few words with the nurses. They close the door immediately after she is gone.

He feels alone.

And then he hears singing again.

Outside the hospital, the mare walks away without looking back. By the road to Ponyville, Thunderlane watches her come closer. The years have taxed his magnificent mane, and brought an array of wrinkles on his face, but otherwise you’d know him instantly.

“Got what you wanted?” he asks when she gets close enough.

She looks at the hospital.

“I think they should let him out,” she says.

He cringes. “I think not.”

“Why?” she says, frowning. “He is harmless. You can’t say that he isn’t, if you have seen him.”

“It’s not that,” he says, shaking his head slowly. “If Chillburn ever got to know that he was set free… It doesn’t bare thinking about what she might do.”

Sadness fills her eyes. “You think she still hates him so much?”

He gives her a look. “Didn’t you know that the only reason Axiom is still alive in the first place is that Reg never got to untie Chillburn. When Twilight and the others found her, she was biting pieces off his leg. It was his luck that it was the only part of him she could reach.”

She looks at him in disbelief. “She never mentioned that part…”

He sighs. “She wouldn’t, would she? Come, let me walk you back home. It’ll be dark before we get there.”

They start walking along the empty road. It seems to stretch beyond eternity.

“Thanks for coming with me,” she says after a while. “You know that you didn’t need to, right?”

He keeps his eyes on the road. “I’d still appreciate it if you didn’t tell your mother. I try not to agitate her more than necessary.”

“He called me ´Pep´,” she says abruptly. “Does that mean anything to you?”

He glances at her from the corner of his eye. “No. Why?”

She shrugs. “Nothing. It’s a nice name.”

“Nicer than Regina?”

Regina smirks. “What do you mean by that?”

He returns the smirk, and says: “Nothing.”

And that was the end of that.