Flight and Scootaloo quivered where they stood, unsure of what to do as they were bathed in the bronze mist. There was no sound but for the hoofsteps, and even as the mist seemed to balloon outwards, the room sat in near silence.

Except for the hooves.

And then, after a few moments, even they stopped.

The air billowed. The ground trembled. Everything settled. And then—

“Come hither,” breathed a voice. A calm yet commanding voice, from between the mists.

“Uhh…” Flight turned to Scootaloo. “...?”

Biting her lip, Scootaloo turned from Flight to the cloud. Then, she nodded. Carefully, she took a few steps forward.

“You sure?” Flight whispered.

“Nope!” Scootaloo shot back. “But it’s like you said—there’s nothing else we can do! So c’mon!”

Shrugging, Flight started forward and followed closely behind Scootaloo as they trotted down the path, even as they couldn’t see in front of them. Drops of dew seemed to settle on their coats as they walked through, forming small droplets which slid coolly down their sides.

“Um… hello?” Scootaloo called out.

“Scootaloo!” Flight hissed. “What if… what if whatever’s out there isn’t on our side?”

“Then it’d help to know where it is, wouldn’t it?” Scootaloo shrugged, and kept trotting. Flight, huffing, kept right behind, making sure Scootaloo’s purple tail was always in sight.

A moment later, they were at the door. Flight could only tell this by the door-shaped protrusions that were jutting out from the mist on either side, almost fully yet not quite completely retreated into the surface of the wall. “Huh?”

“What?” Scootaloo whipped her head around. “See something?”

“No…” Flight shifted uncomfortably. “Well… I guess I’m just a bit confused. We’re at the door, right? And we heard hoofsteps, right? So, like… where’s the pony who opened the door?”

Scootaloo blinked. “That… is a really good question. Hm.”