When David returned with his new friend, Patch was in the main area, cleaning up. She turned to face David and Rough, looking back and forth between them, "Made a new friend already?" she asked of David.

Rough Draft nudged past David. "Better than that! Tell me you recognize him!"

Patch shook her head slowly, "Can't say I do, unless you mean as my patient, which he is." David perched on the edge of his newly made bed, watching the other two talk.

Rough Draft buried his snout into his saddlebags, rooting around for a moment as loose bits of paper began to fall to the ground in the frantic search. Soon he pulled a sheaf of paper free, dangling from his mouth was a picture of a human.

Patch raised a brow, "You already had him drawn?"

Rough shook his head quickly, setting the paper down, "No! I've had this drawing for about a year. My artist friend drew it for me."

David drew out his phone and powered it on as the two ponies chatted.

"It does look like him," conceded Patch, "But don't be running off with him. The stubborn oaf needs his rest."

As Rough Draft gushed on in his excitement, David managed to pull up his picture of Rough. He spun the phone around towards the two, "Here. It was cached fortunately."

They paused in their chatter and looked at the curious device. There was a drawing of Rough Draft in disturbing detail, even with his book and the same quill held in his lips. "I do not have an ink splatter right there," he hotly defended, reaching up to put a hoof on the bridge of his nose, where he encountered a splatter that darkened his hoof, "Oh."

Patch Up smirked before shaking her head, "Alright, you convinced me. You're soul mates or something. I'm very happy for you both, but it's time for David's check up, so sit in the corner like a good colt." She pointed to said corner before advancing on David. David turned the phone back off and stuffed it away before putting his attention on Patch. She dutifully took his blood pressure, peered into his mouth and tapped him here and there, "You're getting better. Those are some sharp teeth in the front. You eat meat?"

David had read enough fanfiction in the prior months to come up with an answer quickly, "I don't mind fish."

Patch snorted, "Is that how you got the bad water, fishing with your mouth? That's not how you do it."

David frowned a little, but didn't reply as Patch concluded her examination. "Alright, if you're feeling good enough to walk around, this'll be your last night here, then you have to find a place of your own."

As she walked away, Rough moved up quickly to take her place, "Well, if you need a place, you could crash with me?" he said, sounding less certain of himself as he proposed the idea.

"Well," said David, "I... guess that's OK. I mean, we know each other." He reached, patting Rough on the head again. The warm furriness of those twitching ears felt good between his fingers. "I was hoping to earn some bits and get to one of the cities."

"Okay," said Rough.

David raised a brow, "OK?"

Rough nodded his head, "I'm not tied down. Most of my income's from royalties. You don't mind if I tag along, right? It'll be an adventure."

Acting on a sudden impulse, David reached down and hauled the pony up onto the bed beside himself, "Alright. We're like a team then."

Rough Draft held up a hoof, which David met with a fist in a bump, though this seemed to confuse Rough Draft. He waggled his hoof in the air again. Staring at the hoof again, David tried once more, but with his fingers out, offering a high five. This pleased Rough who almost giggled with delight.

Despite David's stubborn refusal, his body had the last laugh as he blacked out against Rough Draft, suddenly quite asleep. The pony blinked in surprise at the sudden weight and nudged David a few times before giving up and tucking him in to the best of his ability. He hopped down from the bed and moved for Patch's office. "Patch Up?"

Patch Up looked up from her desk, "Huh? What's up, RD?"

"I have a little favor to ask," said Rough, "For my friend."

Patch looked at Rough Draft dubiously, "Is he asleep yet?"

Rough quickly nodded, "Out like a lantern. We're going to go on an adventure, I just know it! He seemed worried he won't be ready for it."

Patch nodded slowly, "I'm not an expert on, what, humans, but he's about as old as you are, at a guess. You're both middle aged stallions. I'm not sure how fit he is compared to others... of his kind."

Rough kept right on nodding, "Right right, but I'm an earth pony. Being tough is just part of my skillset." Even as Patch rolled her eyes, he continued, "Can you help him? A little spell, make him stronger? Please?"

Patch developed a flat stare for Rough, making him start to wilt in place. "Those are very illegal..."

"I... but..." He started to sag in defeat.

"When used on ponies," concluded Patch with a devious grin. "There are very few magic laws that apply to humans, except the obvious things. I trust you've gotten his consent?"

Rough Draft nodded quickly, "Uh, yes, of course. He wants to be stronger!"

Patch hopped down from her chair and pulled a book from her personal bookshelf with her magic. She approached the slumbering David with the floating book. "I haven't had much practice with this spell, being illegal for all but wasting victims," she confessed as she set the book down on the side of the bed and flipped to the right page. "Don't blame me if he turns into a rabbit or something."

Rough's eyes went wide, "Could it do that?"

Patch snickered softly, "Very unlikely. More chance it'll just kill him." Though Rough Draft started to get serious second thoughts on the matter, Patch was already starting the magic.

As Patch concentrated, the green magic around her horn brightened to where it was painful to look at directly. Surrounding David's bed appeared a circle of runes that grew more complicated by the moment. Her tongue stuck out as she worked through the magic on the page step by careful step.

The concluding portion of the spell read 'And now place a prepared heart crystal [See section 4] on the target's chest.' Heart crystal? What's a heart crystal? There was a bright flash, rendering both her and Rough Draft blind for a moment and seeing stars for many after. The spell had concluded, heart crystal or not. She blinked rapidly to chase the spots away before Patch flipped to the back of the book to find section four.

"Did it work?" asked Rough Draft, "He looks the same."

"Shhh," hissed Patch Up, finally finding the page and reading it quickly.

"The heart crystal is a crystal, traditionally, but not necessarily, carved into the shape of a heart and attuned to an individual's personal magic field. It is required for many augmenting spells, which would otherwise prove far too unstable without it. The subject of such spells should wear their personal heart crystal for as long as the spell is active."

The book went on and on about how to fashion such a crystal, what the varying colors it could turn into meant, and other facts that all felt useless to know after the fact. David didn't have a heart crystal. She flipped ahead to the troubleshooting question.

"So you didn't use a heart crystal?

You're far from the first and, this author is afraid to say, likely to be far from the last. Without a heart crystal, the magic you've just woven into your victim is uncontrolled. Do not attempt to dispel the magic, as it has changed with the growing, changing, nature of the target. If the victim is experiencing immediate shock, seek medical attention and inform them to be on the watch for Thaumaturgical Rashes. If the victim appears to be doing well, great, you've already avoided the worst possible outcome."

"What are you reading?" asked Rough Draft, peeking over her shoulder. She wrapped him in the green glow of her magic and lifted him away. He squawked and flailed, but was less annoying floating in the air. She continued scanning the page, eyes following the old words.

Keep your victim calm for at least six hours to allow full integration. Afterwards, they should be fine, but the effect you have woven will flare up. There is usually a pattern for this, but it differs depending on the weaver, the target, the effect, and a little chance. While inconveniencing, it is rarely dangerous if you've made it this far. Congratulations, now don't do it again.

The next thing written was a rune that sent her mind down a very specific path that led to an instant blinding migraine. Rough Draft dropped to the ground in a pile as Patch held her head. Patch Up rubbed at her temples with an angry muttering. Stupid ancient wizards, leaving punishments in their books.

"It says to let him sleep," she said tiredly, "I'm going to do that too. If you're that worried, take the next bed over, but do not disturb him." Not feeling the strength to argue, she retreated into her office and kicked the door shut. She could face the consequences of her actions the next day.

The sun was just rising as David woke up with a soft grunt and sat up in place. Looking around, he saw Rough Draft's head peeking free of the blanket on the next bed over. David smiled, finding the sight adorable. He threw his feet over the side of the bed and realised he had gone to bed with his shoes on. Nothing for it now. He rose up and stretched for the sky in a long motion before he swung his arms loosely, feeling ready to tackle the day. Not wanting to wake up Rough, he moved to the door to do some pony watching, and slipped out onto the street.