Medicine & Mail, Chapter 2.5: Willow

Author’s Notes:

This is the intended version, unedited, of the companion chapter to Chapter Two in Medicine & Mail. If you have not read at least through chapter two in the main storyline, then this perspective will not make any sense.

Rating: Mature

Contains: Drug use; Strong language; Explicit sexual content (clop, mare ejaculation).

Genres: Clop, Drama, Slice of Life

Chapter Two-point-Five

Matron Willow

“‘Prudes!’ Can you believe it? Those minotaurs, they think

Just because they have these spirits of debauchery and carnality,

That we’re repressed! Us, regular, pure ponyfolk!”

With all the activity of the dozens of patrons, dancing, joking, laughing and playing games of dice and cards with exaggerated gusto, the air here was thick and hot. Minotaurs and ponies shuffled back and forth from the bar, ordering drinks and returning below to their games or tables. The two minotaurs that moved aside to let me sit across from Willow shared stories and laughter over my head like I wasn’t even there.

“Alright, so you’re not with Bit,” Willow called out, her voice loud, necessary to cover the excessive bass levels of the speakers all around, but flat toned. “What exactly are you?” The pink unicorn was slowly turning a glass around in her telekinetic field, the turquoise glow of it creating a cascade of hues across her features. She had painted herself up in a dark purple tribal pattern, and was wearing a lacy black and white outfit.

She was decidedly gorgeous. And I’m staring.

I shook my head and tried to turn my attention away from the mesmerizing mare. “I—” I didn’t actually know how to respond to her question. I fumbled with some words, and tossed some ideas around in my head but nothing seemed to fit. What was I, now?

With the Hydra that coursed through my body, I couldn’t even be sure I was still fully unicorn. But then, with the suppressor anchored to my horn, I didn’t even have that going for me.

Right now, I was just a small pony days further away than I’d ever been from my home, unsure of where I was going to go, and whose company I was in, or even what I would do after this night. I knew that, in the back of my mind, I wanted to find Silver. But the need of it seemed to have lessened of late.

And each time I looked at the priestess, it seemed less important even still. I shook my head and sighed.

“You don’t have to say,” Willow added with a gentle voice, a smile touching on her lips. “I just wanted to know who was keeping the company of my favorite little gambler.”

I looked up at Willow, the warming tone of the last words catching my curiosity. She was looking across the bar, and I followed her gaze to Ghost Ant, hovering over Bit, who was flat on the ground on her haunches.

The grey minotaur—short by minotaur standards, but still several times my size—stepped up to the bar, and swept his enormous arms aside, shuffling most of the row between us toward me. Bit walked to the bar, and disappeared behind the mass of muscle and fur in front of me that was leaning back to watch the event.

Willow giggled, and stared down at the glass she was floating with her magic, her cleaning temporarily halted. It seemed like she was lost in a memory, and her downcast smile added a wisp of melancholy to the view.

“It was just an accident,” I rushed to say, causing her to perk up. “I helped her, and then she helped me. We’re…even, now.” I wasn’t sure how to explain it. I didn’t know how Bit Flip actually felt about the arrangement. She helped me out back at Old Fort Celestia, but only after invoking a debt, and she did refer to me earlier as business.

Maybe I was just luggage.

“That’s it?” She sounded disappointed. “That’s so…well, that’s very her, isn’t it?” She laughed a little, her voice trailing off.

The bar aside me erupted in cheers, and a cream-colored stallion in black bartender robes called out that a drinking challenge had been issued. I leaned back and tried to peer through the thickening crowd to glimpse at who was involved—Bit was over there, so I was curious—but the throng of gatherers and watchers for the challenge obscured my sight completely.

I sat back straight and sighed. The minotaurs beside me had risen and joined in with the rest of the growing crowd to the side, so I was left curiously alone, save for Willow, who was looking at me with a soft smile.

I remembered the sorrowful expression she held a few moments before. Bit had mentioned that she and Willow shared an intimate past, but it certainly felt like one side held on to the memories of it more dearly, and it reminded me of Silver Sheen. My relationship with her took years to develop, and then, just as it did—

A great slap hit my back and nearly sent me tumbling over the bar. A gruff, booming voice yelled from my side, “’Ey Willow! Didn’t know ya had yerself another ’nitiate!” The rust-coated minotaur reached an arm around my side and hoisted me up effortlessly over his shoulder, and began walking from the bar.

I struggled in vain, and reached out with my arms and eyes to Willow, who just shrugged and giggled.

The crowd at the edge of the bar erupted again. And I was right, it was Bit Flip in the center of the group, sitting aside an azure stallion, with several lines of shot glasses and a familiar dark alcohol (ooh, Black Whiskey!) prepped for the contest., “—Ish yer favorite!” I heard from within.

The minotaur dropped me down atop a table where two stallions and one massive griffin sat. Their faces were flushed from the heat of the building, laughter, and judging from the number of bottles and cans that were knocked off when I was unceremoniously flopped onto the table, they were all extremely drunk.

The crowd near Bit broke into a sing-song tune, sloshing together a mixed rhythm and swaying to off-key cries of “Drink until y’can’t drink no more!”

As I gained my footing atop the table, I started, “I’m not—”

The scarred griffin let out an ear-piercing squawk, which turned into a laugh and a haggard coughing fit. The others at the table joined in the laughter, but it felt distinctly like they were not joining with the griffin, and more laughing at him.

“Aye, we know!” The minotaur joked, slapping my back. “No paint! But you’ve got the lace on! Ye’d be a Maiden or Honorary Priestess with that but ain’t none o’us knows you, so that can’t be!”

One of the stallions, with a splotchy grey-purple coat and numerous pocks over his face, leaned up onto the table and yelled out at me, “We jus’ wanna know—”

“You an’ Bit a thing?”

Even over the booming bass and noise of the church-bar, I was sure everyone in here heard it. The extreme volume made me wince and lay my ears flat reflexively, and the overwhelming stench of alcohol and other far-less inviting smells from the stallion’s breath had me scrambling back.

I fell onto the floor, hitting flat on my back, and my eyes watered.

A massive arm of the rusty minotaur hoisted me back to my hooves, where I stood, looking at each of the four drunkards in turn, feeling the flush of my embarrassment warm into a smile, and I laughed along with them.

Near Bit Flip, the crowd of challenge-watchers hollered and hooped, and a shaggy minotaur with excessively long dreads looked at me before calling back into the throng, “’Ey! Bit’s got’er a fillyfriend!”

I knew someone heard that! I blushed, “Everybody really does assume that! We’re not!” I laughed along with most of the upper floor. I looked up and caught a few glances of the evergreen mare as she downed glass after glass of whiskey. She is cute, in her way, but I don’t feel anything toward her.

The bar was full of rowdy, but good-mannered types, it seemed. I looked over the faces of everyone at the table before me and in each I saw enjoyment and relaxation. The griffin was the largest I had ever seen, standing nearly as tall and broad as most of the minotaurs, but still smaller than the stoic minotaurs standing at all corners draped in a single massive black cloth. The stallions were much older than I, covered in grime and dirt, and one was wearing a tattered engineer’s cap.

The crowd around the challenge had begun to disperse, and leading them was Bit Flip, flushed in face and carrying a healthy pile of chips, making her way down the ramp at the end of the balcony to the gaming floor below.

“Now now,” the gentle voice of Willow came from beside me, “It’s not fair to take my catch from me like that.” She had stepped up beside me and was looking at each, glancing back to me. She ran her tail slowly, gently up along my cutie mark.

I whimpered, and my entire body flushed. My ears pinned back, and I shivered as she ran her tail down the inside of my flank. My knees felt weak suddenly, and I wanted to collapse and whimper from the sudden intimacy.

As the table erupted in shouts and hoots, Willow nudged me over to the edge of the upper floor and leaned against the railing. She spoke softly into my ear, “That’ll give them something to talk about.”

I kept my eyes down at the tables below, trying desperately not to think of the feel of her tail along the sensitive inside of my leg, the look on her face and—okay, I really need to stop thinking of that! By Celestia’s grace I think she’ll make me come just looking at me.

“You play?” Willow nodded down to a table below.

I was glad for the topic change, but I shook my head. “I mean, I’ve played before, but only with travelers and a few other ponies around town. Never in a real environment. I don’t know if I’m any good.”

Bit Flip was leaning over a table with more spectators than apparent players, and pulled to her a small pile of colored chips, laughing.

Willow looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “Never know until you try,” she giggled.

“I’d like to,” I mused. Watching the jubilation of everyone below, cheering as Bit pulled another win, and erupting as she bet it all and lost it immediately after, it felt like there was so much that could happen in just one game.

Looking over at another table, a group of griffins and minotaurs were holding cards and trying to hold themselves as steady and flat-faced as possible. Each player glanced at another and after what appeared to be careful consideration, dropped some chips into a bulging pile. They all dropped their cards face up, and one griffin jumped up, hollering, while the rest of the players squirmed and rubbed their heads. How interesting.

“So why don’t you? The services are still on for a while yet. Go mingle.”

“I’d, um,” I shifted. “I don’t know. I think I’ll just stay up here for now.”

“Nervous, huh? Well, looks like there’s something else I’ll have to show you how to overcome later.” She turned from the railing and grazed me lightly with her mane as she walked by, then brushed her tail across my face and walked to the bar. A sweet scent lingered after her.

Her small, lithe frame moved slowly, deliberately, and swished her tail about. The dark cloth wrapped around her body tightly and the thin stockings and lace left little to the imagination. The dark purple paint accented her features and kept bringing my view to her flank.

I followed slowly behind her toward the bar, and watched her make her way around it, never for a moment taking my view from the sight of her. My body was warm, my face flushed, and a noticeable moisture had developed between my legs. She was simply gorgeous—maybe even more-so than Silver…

“Darling,” she spoke to me, breaking me from my trance, “Eyes up here.”

Luna freeze my nethers, she saw me. Again! I slumped down and covered my head with my hooves, hoping the burning in my cheeks, ears, and under my thighs would settle.

She laughed, and pressed a hoof to my ear gently. As I looked up, she whispered, “I hope you didn’t make a mess in my panties.”

I squealed and tried to stammer out something, but words were not forming.

“Willow! Ah need another round! No, make it two! Me an’ mah buddies, we need another toast for Laitis!”

“Certainly!” She beamed. With the shimmering lights of the church playing about, and the glow from her magic, her sapphire eyes sparkled. The purple paint that she painted around them only made them stand out more.

As she trotted about, talking excitedly to the mottled stallion requesting drink after drink, her mane bounced and flowed, billowing out and framing her face. She worked her magic over multiple bottles, lifting and flipping each in turn, seeming to delight in the activity. It was amazing to watch—she turned bottles and spun them around, dropping her magic hold on them momentarily, picking them up again at the precise moment the last drips needed to fill the glasses below the bottle hit, and managed the menagerie of bottles and glasses without ever missing a beat in her sing-song sway and dance.

She smiled as she set the tray of multi-colored drinks down by a nearby lace-clad minotaur. It seemed like the entire church lit up with her.

I tried to edge myself closer to that sight, wanting simply to be a part of the aura that she seemed to emanate. My body tingled, and burned with powerful sensations. I shifted, and wetness flowed from me. I have the heat of Celestia’s sun in me, I groaned.

I have to stop thinking of that. I needed to calm down, take a breath, and steady myself. I can’t, I still have Silver. When I find her.

As I exhaled slowly, a glass was slid up to me, bathed in a dark greenish-blue light. The mix itself was a creamy white, with a thick foam on top and thin slices of something light-green rimming the glass.

“I call it a Doozy,” Willow explained, walking up to me with that bright, beaming smile of hers. “It’ll calm you down.”

I lapped the foam, and was hit with a sensation of flavor I had never experienced before. It was delicious. It had a light flavor of the cactus pods we had eaten previously, but there were other flavors I didn’t even know mixed in, and a familiar, distinct flavor of a fine whiskey.

The foam gone, I greedily took a large gulp of the thick, creamy drink. It was oaky, but fruity, and the taste seemed to change as it worked across my tongue.

“Good. Maybe that’ll keep your mind off somepony, and I won’t have to clean up a puddle under your seat.”

I coughed and hacked, gasping at air, trying to breathe through the burning of forgetting how to for a moment. Her tone was in jest, but I felt like she waited until that exactly moment to say that, just for the sake of seeing me teary-eyed and embarrassed.

As I started to regain my ability to breathe properly, I giggled, then laughed. In between breaths, I took more deep gulps of the Doozy, until the glass was empty. Another was set just next to it.

I pulled the second drink to me, and giggled. “You must think I’m a pervert pony.”

“Not at all, dear. It’s not the first time I’ve elicited a reaction.” She leaned on to the counter and had slid close enough that I could see the sparkling of background lights in her sapphire eyes, framed by that dark paint.

My cheeks burned and I took to washing away my embarrassment with another long drink.

“Just never so honestly,” she finished. She kept her bright eyes on mine for what seemed like an eternity, and for that time, nothing else seemed to exist. Finally, she adopted a sultry expression. “Your eyes are amazing. I’ve never seen such a deep amethyst. And the way they shine in the light with the reds and purples…it’s very unique, and more than a little sexy.”

I wanted to flinch away, to turn, but I could not. Finally, I melted, and slumped down slightly. She’s intense.

I needed to change the topic. I would wither away under the veritable onslaught of emotions and desire, and I felt like she knew she could get me to squirm and drip with just the slightest motion or just a few words. And she seemed to enjoy it.

“Um, so—” I wanted to say something, anything, but words weren’t forming. Topics and questions and ideas all floated around, but I couldn’t grasp onto any, until…”You and Bit Flip.”

“Hm?” She leaned back and straightened up slightly. “What about her and I, dear?”

“You’ve known each other for a while. I don’t know anything about her.”

Willow settled back onto the bar. “And you want to know more about her?” She turned her head slightly, drooped her ears, and said in a hushed, sad voice, “Dear, that hurts.”

I had intended on ignoring whatever tease she responded with, but the sudden change in demeanor caught me off guard. Without realizing it, I apologized.

“I thought you wanted to know about me,” she continued.

“I-I do!” I stammered, without realizing. Then I did, and tried to cover my embarrassment, “I-I mean, I do, but, uh—” But nothing. I really did want to know. I wanted to know how soft her coat was, to know why she was here and what choices in life she made, wanted to know if I could just nestle up in her mane and sleep, wanted to know her taste—Aaaaugh! I downed the rest of the cup quickly.

She giggled and looked up at me. Her expression was soft and she was trying not to laugh, but her cheeks tugged and a smile broke out, then she laughed.

It was a heart-warming sound, and then I realized she had been playing me. I was sure she could read every thought I had from the way my body moved at that moment. Before her I felt completely naked—not that her lingerie I was wearing was exactly covering—and she could see everything about me. It was embarrassing, but also comforting.

“It’s fine, I understand,” she told me. “But, really, it’s awfully loud in here, and I think this would be a conversation better suited to something more private.” After saying something to the cream-colored stallion quietly, she stepped from the side of the bar and motioned me toward an exit.

As the door opened to the outside, a gust of cool air washed over us, taking the immediate heat from me, and breathing a comfortable coolness over my sweaty coat. The night was quiet but for the rumble of the church’s music, and the moonlight had coated everything in a light blue hue. The buildings shimmered, and the lights of the town flickered all around.

Willow was walking ahead a few steps, moving up a wide wooden set of stairs that circled around the church, keeping her pace slow. The moonlight glimmered off her mane and coat, and silhouetted her in a faint glow.

I trotted up to her side and fell in with her pace. The night air was calming, and all the burning of my desires and the Doozies were washing away, bit by bit. I felt genuinely comfortable here.

I hadn’t felt like this since Desert’s Edge. Since before Silver left.

We reached a balcony overlooking the Crags, and Willow nestled down. Looking out from the top of the building across the Rusted Crags, it felt like a completely different world than from just inside the church. Here, it was calm and quiet, with nobody around but us.

It’s just us.

I stepped closer to Willow and leaned up against her slightly, nuzzling at the edge of her ears. She had a sweet scent about her, much like the sugary drink she had served me earlier, but with a touch of something else—just the slightest hint of something erotic, and passionate.

She cooed and booped my cheek with her nose. “I thought you had questions?”

Sudden realization hit me and I shrank back. “Sorry!”

She arched her eyebrows and frowned, then patted the spot I had just sat in. She had changed her expression to a half-smile. Her features were inviting, and I sat back down, leaning against her slightly. I could feel the heat of her body against my own.

“What did you want to know?”

“If I could just stay here like this forever.”

“Forever?”

What? Oh, Luna fuck me with the crags of the moon, I didn’t think that, I said it! I covered my head with my hooves and sank onto the wooden balcony. “I’m sorry, I, um…”

“You needn’t apologize, dear. You seem to hide from your feelings a lot, but your body is so honest,” she teased.

I turned away. She was absolutely correct, and the dampness of my back legs and lingerie wouldn’t fool anypony otherwise. “S-So, she—Bit Flip, I mean—said you two were more than friends once?”

Willow turned from me and looked out across the cloudless horizon. She stayed silent a moment. “We’ve been friends a long time. Her caravan comes through here quite a bit, and she seems naturally inclined to games of luck and chance, which means we’ve had several dealings in the past.”

“Luck?”

“Mmhmm,” Willow nodded. “She’s just as likely to have the best luck in the Wasteland as she is the worst. She has a bad habit—and don’t tell her I said this—of getting too into it.”

“How do you mean?” Just keep talking.

“You’re familiar with dice, right? A pony with average luck like you or I, when we roll one, we will get random results, from one to six. She, on the other hoof, will only ever get one or six.” Willow giggled, then continued in her silken voice, “It’s a little more complicated than that, but that’s the gist of it. It’s freaky luck, no matter how she says otherwise.”

I thought back to meeting with Bit in the cave during the storm. She told me she gambled, and lost, and it started to make more sense now. If she was lucky, the storm would have passed quickly or turned another direction. If she wasn’t, she…She certainly wasn’t lucky about that.

Willow took a breath and glanced down at me, squeezing me slightly. “Ah, sorry, that didn’t answer your question.”

“It’s alright,” I whispered. I didn’t want to step on her hoof here and hit a touchy subject. I just wanted her to keep talking. Her voice made my ears burn with excitement, and leaning against her felt like resting on clouds.

“Well, you asked, so I feel like I should answer.”

“You don’t have to,” I rushed. “I don’t want to make you say something you’re not comfortable with. I just wanted you to talk, and, well, anything works.” Whatever I can to keep you talking, and keep my thoughts modest. “Um, alright, here’s something I don’t understand. Why does she hide her wings?”

Willow giggled. “I take it she got defensive once or twice?”

“Mmhmm,” I hummed. “Earlier, flying would have been better for her than walking, but she snapped at me.”

Willow considered the question for a moment, and stayed silent, but kept her gaze on me. Finally, she spoke up, “She plays her cards close to her vest. Likes to have that last bit of leverage in a conversation or deal. I see that sort of thing in the cards and games downstairs a lot, actually, but she puts it into practice.”

“It was certainly a shock.”

“That’s sort of the idea, isn’t it? If everypony thinks they’re dealing with an earth pony, they’ll react that way. Then it all gets thrown out when she flies away. Don’t show your hand until you know it’ll win you the match; that kind of thing.”

I nodded. Her words made the events at the Fort and the gate here seem more sensible, but my thoughts were only half on that. I just wanted to listen to that delectable voice of hers.

“Well! That’s all about the past,” she started, grinning. “I’d rather know about the present! Tell me about yourself, and how you came to know Bit, and why you’re here.”

“It’s not very interesting.” It’s not that I didn’t want to tell her, I just wanted to know more about her than I wanted to say anything about me. But she did ask. I sighed.

“I was leaving Fleshgrove and kind of fell into a cave during a dust storm. A while later, I saw something out in the storm, and a huge sheet or debris or something hit it. Not really sure, just some big shadow. I went out to help, and it was Bit. She tried stopping that something with her face,” I chuckled. “And later on, I got in a bit of trouble in OFC. That’s…where I got this ring. Anyway, she was there and helped me.”

But none of the others, I remembered sourly.

“What in Upniri’s name saw you in Fleshgrove?”

I slumped away from the warmth of her, and thought. I didn’t know what to say, or how to say it even if I did. Painful feelings were emerging as I remembered the past few weeks, but part of me knew I needed to say it. “I left…Desert’s Edge, where I’m from,” I was mumbling. The words were difficult to say, but I tried to push forward. “I…left for Silver.” My voice cracked. “I wanted to find her, and…”

Willow reached out and gently pulled me tight against her.

Something about that embrace, simple as it was, tugged on me, and I felt the emotions welling up. I wanted to stop them—I don’t want to feel that way!—but they kept rushing to the surface.

My eyes watered, then tears began falling, and would not stop. I cried, and wailed, and my body heaved and shuddered, pressing tightly against Willow. My tears ran over her paint, causing it to run, and my face and body smeared it over the two of us as I pulled and tugged her against me.

Willow stayed silent as my emotions flooded out, cradling me and nuzzling me. She just held me, while I sobbed and blabbered, retelling the last two weeks of my life between fits of tears and wails. I told her about Silver Sheen, and how much she meant to me then, but how now it didn’t seem to drive me the same. I felt like I was losing her. I explained how my trust in ponies had been struck and broken from the events toward Fleshgrove and in Old Fort Celestia.

I really did want to help but there were so many times I ran away, had to flee, and couldn’t. I wanted to help, but I didn’t, or I couldn’t. So I ran, and left everypony behind. I wanted to be better, to do good, to help, but…“I’m just selfish.”

As I neared the end of my story, my body had settled but for the occasional shudder. My face was stained with my tears, and our bodies both were covered in smears of the dark purple paint she had covered herself in for the church’s services.

I breathed deeply, taking in her sugary sweet scent, and wrapped my arms around the mare’s body, pulling us as close as I could, to which she responded in kind. I could feel her heartbeat thumping against my chest, rapid and excited, and her breathing was shallow and quick. Her body felt so much warmer now, and in the cooling night air, I cherished it.

As I loosened my grip, she rolled with me onto my back, and pressed her flustered body against me. Her face was flushed and she was taking shallow breaths through her slightly open mouth. Her sapphire eyes glimmered with a hint of tears.

“I thought,” I whispered, my throat catching and haggard, “I thought I loved Silver. I don’t know. Maybe I did. Maybe…I just want to be a good pony.”

She looked lost, but sensual, with her eyes closed partly and—she kissed me.

I didn’t know why, but my eyes watered, and tears rolled down my face, settling on my mane. She shifted her body slightly, pressing her curves into mine, and for a while, it felt like I was losing a part of myself, becoming something of her, with her.

As she pulled from her kiss and took to nibbling on my ears and nuzzling my neck, our bodies fell into a rhythm. She pressed into me with the movement of a kiss and I pressed back, running my hoof down her flank while she explored my body with her own.

An intense, pleasurable heat coursed through my body, settling between my legs. She gingerly stroked my flank and moved slowly to the interior, brushing lightly against the increasing wetness that was soaking through the church’s lingerie covers and running down my backside. Her hoof slid the wet cloth away and she pressed into my quivering flesh.

My body reacted before I realized, and waves of pleasure rushed through me. I arched my back in rhythm with each press and rub of her hoof. In moments, my body was overcome with ecstasy, and I gasped. My vision turned white and pink, my view taken entirely by the lovely mare’s countenance.

The sight of her so deeply involved in the dance of our tongues and the swirling of her hoof between my legs was the final push I needed. My muscles tightened and relaxed, each ebb of pleasure causing my body to spasm. “O-Oh, Willo—w!” I cried out, panting between kisses.

I thrust my lower body as hard as I could against her hoof, and twisted and thrust in rhythm to her skilled movements. I shuddered, pulling her close to me and biting into her mane, when my mind collapsed and I felt the burst of warmth and wet from between my legs.

She pressed deeper into my body, and rubbed me in tight circles as I came. Each new wave and every shudder of my lower lips elicited a gasp; from my burning wetness to the tips of my ears, my body felt bliss. Willow continued to rub me, nuzzling and kissing my neck, until the rush began to dissipate and my senses slowly came back to me.

As I lay there, looking up at the bright moon across the dark night sky and panting, Willow curled up with me and began licking her hoof. It glimmered in the moonlight and dripped from my pleasure. “I barely even touched you, and you made such a mess.”

I leaned over and kissed her, tasting the sweet flavor of the night on our tongues. “I’ll make us even,” I told her between the last shakes of the orgasm.

“Oh I should hope not! The night is still so very young, and once just won’t do!”

She slowly moved to her hooves and stretched out, silhouetted against the bright moon of the late night. She took a step toward the stairs leading back down from the balcony, then glanced back at me. “If you really mean that, you’re going to want to come down here, don’t you think?”

I chuckled. “I’m not sure I can stand just yet.” My legs were weak, and felt numb, my energy drained in so many ways. I pulled the lacy lingerie back up, but their dampness just made for a cold sensation, and I tensed.

A moment later, I felt the tug of a magic field around me as Willow’s magic enveloped me and lifted me slightly. She floated me to her and set me down slowly.

I leaned against her, trying to keep myself steady, then nodded, and followed after her as she walked down the steps.

The church was as loud as it had been before, and nothing seemed to have changed. Patrons still screamed and yelled in joy and laughter, the minotaur monk-bouncers still pulled much smaller ponies apart in heated arguments, and the occasional eruption of cheering down below signified a spectacular win or loss in the various gambling games.

Willow stepped through the door without a pause, and as the multi-colored lights hit her, I saw just how much of a mess I had made of her. Her coat was more purple from the tribal paint than her own pink—in my fit of crying and moment of passion, I had smeared it in every direction. Whatever designs she had carefully painted on before were gone, replaced by a mess of raw emotion.

She took a few steps forward, then looked back. “We have to go through here,” she smiled, seeming to catch my uneasiness. She motioned me in, and after a deep breath, I took my first step back in to the church.

“Looks like she got the paint after all!” The familiar voice of the rust-colored minotaur boomed out across the balcony. He raised his mug, itself as large as some ponies, and hollered out, “By Laitis! Initiate the little one, Willow!”

“I think that my paint really looks good on you,” Willow whispered in my ear as I walked to her side. “Really brings out those eyes.”

She skipped up to the edge of the bar. “Can you do something for me?”

A light mocha colored stallion in black church garb walked up to her, a knowing smile playing across his face and his glimmering eyes. “Keep minding the bar? You’re busy? Don’t think you’ll make it back tonight?”

Willow giggled, “Yes, exactly. Thank you!” She trotted back to me and bumped her flank against mine playfully, then kept moving ahead. Her mane was a mess, still billowy but disorganized, and her priestess outfit was skewed and coming loose in all the right spots.

I flushed, but followed her down the long ramp toward the bottom floor, taking careful mind to stay a few steps back—anypony with half a mind for mares, and hell, probably even those who wouldn’t normally fancy such, couldn’t blame me for the sight of her sway and seductive movements.

When she stepped down from the ramp and turned in to the crowd, Ghost Ant grabbed her and hoisted her up, letting out a guffaw and squeezing her. “Matron, you’re all a’mess! And that—yep, that’s the smell of another mare on you!” He laughed, looking straight at me, “And not hard to guess which!”

Several of the others at the table and over the room turned at the minotaur’s booming jest, and I caught many glances shifting between Willow and I, and just as much snickering. Of course—I must look like quite the sight, covered in her paint. And to those that could tell over the myriad of scents in the bar, she was soaked in mine.

My cheeks turned crimson and my face burned. Everybody knows.

“Now now, Ghost,” Willow squeezed out. When she was set down, she motioned me forward, to which I hesitantly complied. “We have something private to attend to, so if you don’t mind…”

“Oh nobody minds!” a beige stallion hollered out behind the relatively short grey minotaur. Laughter and applause rang out around us.

Willow simply smiled at me and laughed, pushing her way through the crowd. I followed as close as I could, afraid to get caught and lost in the crowd as they began to chant to cries of “Laitis! Laitis!”

Willow stopped halfway across the room and turned to face Bit Flip, who was leaning with her back against a dice table behind her. Bit rested her chin on one hoof, and a coy, playful smile stretched across her features. She had a large pile of chips and caps immediately behind her, but curiously, her underbarding’s cloth cover was gone. She was sitting at the table, wings public, naked but for a pony’s modesty.

“So!” she called out, hopping off the chair and trotting up to the two of us. She flicked a glance between us several times, then broke out into a wide whiskey-grin, “Looks like somepony’s initiated now!”

I could smell the alcohol lingering around her. Oh dear Luna, just how much has she had tonight?

“I—what?” I remember Bit Flip explaining she was a Maiden—rather, an Honorary Priestess—after drinking Ghost Ant under twice, but I hadn’t had anything to drink beyond a few Doozies recently. And I certainly did not challenge any member to a drinking contest.

“Only halfway,” Willow chimed. “Now she has to pay her part in.”

Bit Flip laughed, and patted my head with one of her wings. “Have fun, then! Or, should I say, be careful!” She laughed, and trotted back to her game.

The chanting around us had died out, but I still felt most of the bar’s eyes on me. My mane was disheveled, the church’s black and white lacy lingerie twisted and slipping, and I had as much of Willow on me as she did herself. The door across the room felt a mile away.

Willow wrapped her tail around my face and brushed me lightly. As I looked up, she lifted her tail slightly, giving me an eyeful of a glorious sight, then just as quickly she dropped it and skipped ahead, laughing.

My desire fueled by her antics, I nearly galloped after her, pushing aside and bouncing against minotaur and pony alike. We reached the door at the same time, but I pressed against her, pinning her to the wall. Our eyes met, and in hers I saw a glimmer of surprise behind an erotic grin. I pressed my lips to hers.

For the moment, I didn’t care about the bar, or about the new screams and cries to Laitis or whatever other god in the pantheon the church prayed to—I only had Willow in my thoughts. I wanted her, more than anything I could ever recall, and I couldn’t seem to stop my body from acting on that impulse. And even if I did, I didn’t want to.

She pressed back against me and with a sudden move I couldn’t follow, I found our positions switched. Now, I was the one now pinned to the wall. She smirked, and ran her tongue along my cheek, down my neck, and across to my mane. She slowly brought her face back toward me, and breathed a long, slow, hot breath against my ear, before nipping at it.

My body burned again, and I could feel the passion welling up in me. The warmth that flowed from between my legs seeped through the already-soaked panties and dripped. The faces in the crowd behind her, staring, cheering, and screaming in laughter and joy, all blended together, then faded away. All that I could see now was a pair of purple-framed sapphires looking deep into me.

Her expression was unflinching, and slowly shifted from one inviting gaze to another, punctuated by sensual kisses and playful licks and nips. The pleasure was building deep within me, and a new warmth trickled down my legs. She, she really is gonna make me, just from her being here, gonna make me—“Aahn,” I moaned quietly, trying to hold my voice in check. My ears were drooping and a familiar sensation was flowing through my body.

An intense heat burned between my lights, seeming to ignite my sex with each kiss and nip. “D-don’t,” I whimpered, “I’m gonna….”

Her face lit up, and she grinned. She kept her eyes fixed to mine as I struggled to keep them open, and moved in for a deep, sensual kiss. She played softly with me, moving in rhythm with my breathing, her hooves touching me delicately in places along my neck that flooded my senses with new emotion.

The mounting pleasure forced me to draw back. I could barely keep my eyes open, and even with all my effort to stifle it, I moaned. Willow was unrelenting, and pressed her body against mine, then bit my mane.

“Comi—ng! Aaaahn!” I cried out into the lounge, having lost what little control I had of my voice. I clamped my eyes shut as tears rolled from them. Pleasure erupted from and through me once more, and wave after wave of orgasmic sensations coursed through me. My body shuddered as my knees shook and legs weakened, held up only by the firm grasp of the once-tribal-painted pony, pinning me against the wall. I pressed my tail against my convulsing marehood with all my effort, and the stream of the intense climax quickly ran through and soaked into it, dripping onto the floor below.

“Willow,” I moaned, my body shaking and quivering against her. I gasped, “You…I…” She didn’t even touch me…

Willow gently let loose my mane and slid down to the floor with me as my legs gave out. She looked into my eyes, and kissed me lightly. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “You were just so close. I couldn’t help myself.”

I rested my head against her and just sat there, until the last shakes of the orgasm subsided. I breathed her in deeply, that rich scent now mixed in with that of my own wetness and the alcohol and sweat of the bar.

The bar! Oh fucking hell! My senses instantly returned and with them, the acute awareness of every pair of eyes staring at me. They just saw me come!

I thought I would faint. I was light-headed but rather than burning like a blush, I felt frozen, and blanched. All of the blood had rushed from my face. Probably down to between my legs, and oh Celestia fuck me with a solar flare! I was so very wet, and my pleasure had just become an impromptu show for all the mares, stallions, and other people alike that witnessed my cries of delight and the whimper of my orgasm.

Willow pecked me on the cheek and stood up. “I was joking earlier about the puddle thing, you know.”

“I-uh, I—”

“Come on,” she laughed. “Perhaps we really should move somewhere private before you catch on fire!” She pulled at the door with her magic and stepped into the hall beyond, motioning me to follow.

I scrambled to my hooves and nearly dashed in beside her—just to get out of the immediate attention of everyone behind me.

The door shut, and the sounds of the activity beyond them seemed to fade into the distance. Now in the privacy of the hall, I was trembling, lost in embarrassment and astonishment.

Willow stepped down the hall and swished her tail exaggeratedly, giving me glimpses of her marehood through the thin, damp cloth.

The fire in me caught once more and a flood of passion came over me. “You’re very cruel,” I choked out.

Willow just laughed, and kept pushing forward with that delectable sway of hers. “You’re beyond adorable, so I can’t help it!” She stopped at a door with a placard above it, inscribed in gold against the black stone slab were the words Matron Willow.

She pushed the door open and skipped in.

As I stepped in to the room, the first thing to catch my senses was the scent of something sweet but spicy. Something like a fresh apple mingled with a sharper scent, like cinnamon. It was inviting, and erotic.

The door closed behind me and clicked, and I stepped further in, rounding the short hall into a much wider living space. Against the far wall was a wide mat, covered in blankets and pillows strewn about. Just in front of it, Willow was dancing. She shook her hips in a rhythm, and bounced her shoulders to and fro with it. She started to tap to each fourth note, lightly at first, then increasing in pressure. She hummed to the tune, a melody similar to one of the tracks from the bar.

She stopped suddenly, and spun around. “So!” The dim orange glow of the light in her room flickered off her eyes as she playfully pranced up to me. “Looks like you owe me two!”

Her look—that smile, those movements—Two wouldn’t be near enough! I pressed my lips to hers and pushed us back toward her bed. She caught the edge of it and we tumbled over. I landed mostly on top, but quickly pushed myself on to her, and returned to the kiss.

My hooves took to exploring her delicate body, running over and feeling every curve and every fiber on her. I ran one along her side, and across her flank, moving slowly to the inside. She lifted her leg and seemed to invite me further, and I was happy to comply.

I nudged my hoof along the edge of the lingerie, then down, touching at the edge of her swelling marehood. I pressed into it and ran my hoof back up along the slit, then down again, and she shivered. Shifting to the side and slipping my hoof under the straps of the panties, I slid them down, then completely off.

I pulled back from the kiss and took a long, deep look at the sight before me: Willow lay there, smiling, flushed, and her body was open and inviting. Her legs were spread and her sensitive flesh exposed. I could smell the sweetness of her body and her arousal, mixing in and lingering with the sharper incense of the room. The flickering of the candlelight glimmered against her wetness, and it was all I could do to not come just then—the sight was making my head swim and filled me with an aching, craving sensation.

I leaned in and kissed her, pressing the top of my hoof against her delicate flesh. I moved my lips across her cheeks and down her neck in rhythm with the push and rub of my hoof. Her lower lips shuddered as I passed lightly over the hardened nub of her clit, and I moved in small circles before gliding back down the slickened flesh.

My kissing moved from her neck and down to between her thighs, and progressed inwardly. From here, the scent of her pleasure played with my senses, and I desired and wanted her even more, making me tingle and drip between my own legs.

I ran my tongue down her slit and she gasped, which only spurred me on. Up and down I worked my tongue, tasting the salty-sweet flavor of the mare as I licked her greedily. I moved my attention to her prominent nub and swirled my tongue around it, savoring the sweet taste of her, spurred on by an occasional moan and gasp.

Willow arched her back, and she pressed her lower body against my face harder, and I licked more fiercely, stroking the sensitive spot and all the sweet flesh around it.

She began to moan, and her body’s movements were becoming erratic, shifting between pressing against me with all of her energy to gasping and pulling back. The delectable area I was concentrating on began to twitch, and felt hot against my tongue and lips.

“Ah—” Willow gasped, “Yes, that’s—” She squealed a little, and pressed once more against my face. I had taken the whole of her clit in my lips and pulled on it lightly. She shuddered, and a new wetness trickled out over my tongue. Only through conscious effort did I not join her in orgasm just by the euphoric taste of it. With a whinny, she collapsed onto the bedding, panting and sweaty.

I licked along the rest of her pulsing sex and ran my tongue deep into her as she continued to shake and gasp. All of my lower body ached, and the intensity of the desire was nearly overwhelming.

All of her is an aphrodisiac to me.

When her shaking stopped, I pulled myself from her and slid my body up hers, nuzzling my face to hers. She smiled, and kissed me. A slow but passionate kiss, and it felt like, for those few minutes, nothing existed to either of us outside of the warmth of each other on this bed.

She pulled away from the kiss after what seemed a blissful eternity, and began to use her magic to untie the straps of the lacy wear on the both of us. “I thought,” she whispered, “You might not make it long enough for me to finish.” She laughed a little.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re so sensitive, and each time has been so easy,” she teased, slipping the corset from me, leaving me naked save for the white frilled panties that, given my wetness, were see through and utterly useless to hide anything. “I thought the stimulation might get you off before I did.”

“It nearly did!” I laughed, and nipped at her ear. “You, I don’t know, but you drive me. In ways I’ve never felt. You make me wild, and the mere thought of you, just listening to you, looking at you, tasting you, smelling you,” I moaned, my imagination playing up the excitement in me, making me trickle down my legs and bringing me to the edge.

She pushed me off her lightly, and rolled back to her hooves. She had stripped away all of her clothes, leaving her naked, pink coat open for me. She nipped at the panties I was wearing, biting of the thin strap holding them to me. She smiled, then pulled, dropping the last of my clothing from me, baring all my desire for her openly.

I swished my tail aside instinctively, and lifted my rear up to meet her as she moved in. She ran her tongue along the inside of my legs and down, inching ever closer to my throbbing, aching slit, before finally she brushed against it.

Then immediately she took to it, and ran her tongue deep into me. The sensations and pleasures of so much of my desire being met coursed over me, and I moaned. I’m already, so close—

She licked away, running her tongue in circles and shapes, in turn deep down into me and against the more sensitive pleasure spots along the surface. I could feel the peak approaching, mere moments after she began, and pulled the sheets up close to me, biting down on one of the red pillows.

With one hoof she pressed against my mound and pulled at it, causing every nerve and pleasure spot to cry out at once. My eyes watered and my legs began to feel weak. I moaned heavily into the pillow So close—!

She began work with her tongue once more, and the intensity of her movements against me overtook my senses. My body tensed, then with a cry and a shudder across every part of me, I burst with pleasure and wetness.

Each spasm, and each flick of her tongue sent another flare of the orgasm through me. My legs were shaking, my breathing was sporadic, and every extremity on my body wanted to curl up. My tail had wrapped around her and was trying to invite her further, deeper in. I pressed hard against her lips and thrust my quaking flesh in rhythm with her motions.

With her hoof, she rubbed me in circles, just above my most sensitive spot, and took to it with her tongue. I felt my marehood rhythmically convulse, each motion accompanied by a spurt from deep within me, splashing against Willow's tongue and lips. I cried out along with every flittering wave of delight. Even before the final waves of the orgasm tapered off, a second was building. My vision was filled with white, and I cried out as it hit, feeling a hot stream of pure pleasure rush from between my legs, soaking my coat, Willow, and the bedding below my shaking legs.

My legs gave out and I collapsed to the bedding. My pleasure gushed from me and never seemed to subside, as Willow fell back between my legs, licking greedily in my melting folds. She licked, nibbled, and pulled on me throughout the flooding sensations long after the rush subsided.

For several minutes after my vision cleared, while my body shook sporadically, the only sound other than an occasional whinny from me was that of Willow, licking away at my burning marehood.

Finally, she stopped, and fell to my side, pulling me close. A smile tugged at my lips, but from the excessive peaks of pleasure, I could barely keep my eyes open. She pressed my body against hers, and held me as the spasms subsided and my breathing returned to regularity.

“Was that a two-fer?” She cooed, nuzzling my cheek.

“Mmm,” I hummed. I leaned up and licked along her lips, taking from it the honey-like taste of my orgasm. I licked her cheek and her neck, then kissed her.

“I’m going to need to keep some extra, dry sheets when you’re around,” she giggled.

For a few moments we laid there, simply breathing in each other’s scents and holding on to each other’s warmth. Then she rolled onto me and looked deep in my eyes, a playful smile breaking across her face.

“But the night’s still young, and now you owe me three.”

I grinned, and tried to reach around to pull her down, wanting desperately to work on her again, but my limbs would not obey, and I whimpered. “I will. I just need a rest.”

Willow frowned, but nuzzled up to me and let out a sigh. “I understand,” she murmured.

I could feel the pull of sleep inching closer to my awareness, but I fought it—I didn’t want to sleep, and I didn’t want to lose the precious time the gorgeous mare and I were sharing. “Tell me something,” I whispered.

She looked at me and shot a curious glance. “Such as?”

I pecked her lips. “Anything. Tell me about you. Just let me hear you some more.” Maybe it was the encroaching unconsciousness, maybe the last remnants of the Doozies, or maybe simply physical exhaustion from the multiple orgasms of the night—it didn’t matter why. Her voice was entrancing, and it felt like no amount of her would be enough just then.

“Mmm, well,” she rolled onto me, “I’m the matron at this church.”

“I know th—”

She interrupted me with a kiss, and slid her body over me. Her leg slipped inside mine and brushed lightly against my quivering sex. She began to squirm slightly, and as I gasped, she whispered into my ear: “I used to travel.”

In between rocking my body with hers, pressing her leg into me and my light moans, she told me her story. “I liked to see the world, and all the different kinds of people in it. I talked my way into getting passage on different caravan trips, and saw the Marejave. It was exciting.”

“Ex-citing,” I whispered. I was paying attention—I really wanted to know!—but as she rocked into me harder, faster, each shift of her leg increased my pleasure and it was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain my composure. “M-more…”

As if responding to my request in both ways, she pressed herself against me, rubbing her leg in tight circles. I moaned, and as a new wetness seeped from me, my head swam with delight, and the scent of our pleasure and of her. She slowly, deliberately ran her tongue along my ear and whispered, “Then we stopped here, and the church fascinated me.”

She broke away from her story to kiss me, and slid a hoof down the inside of my flank, brushing against my sex.

“Keep t-talking,” I stammered.

“So I volunteered,” she bit my ear, “And finally felt like I found a place that was for me. All my passions, and all my desires, they all flooded me, and here, I felt a belonging I never had.”

Her lips caressed my cheek, neck, then down, covering my chest and stomach with nips and kisses. Then she moved down to my legs and gave a long, slow lick up my slit. I gasped, and could feel her breath against me.

“Years later,” she said, tone low and excessively breathy. The warm breeze of her words brushed against my sensitive flesh and I shivered in anticipation and a sensual delight. She kissed my lips below, and spoke between pecks and licks, “I met Bit, and later became Matron. And now,” she intoned, taking my clit into her mouth, rolling her tongue across and around it, causing my body to erupt in sensations and delectation.

She worked my spot, and I felt an urge building within me. I wrapped my legs around her and pulled her closer. She pressed against my spot and licked, sucked, and kissed with great fervor, until—for the fifth time that night, my body convulsed and I exploded in ecstasy and viscous delight.

My eyes clamped shut, and my whole body was tensed up, but each rush of my heat elicited a gasp or a cry. I held Willow tight against me, and all through my satisfaction she remained unphased by my spasms and rushes of wetness and shaking, working her tongue up and down my slit, in circles and shapes that delivered paramount pleasure.

As the feelings subsided, my body relaxed and I collapsed back onto her bed, where she curled up against me and hummed. The melody was light, slow, and unlike anything from the bar. It had a sweet rhythm to it, but it felt strangely melancholic underneath.

“You’re unrelenting,” I moaned, feeling my body buck uncontrollably.

“You’re so easy to tease,” she nipped back. “And, you’re multi-orgasmic. Please tell me you didn’t think I would be satisfied after seeing you squirm just once, did you?”

I laughed, and rolled over against her, nestling up in her mane and wrapping my legs around her. “Why here?”

She hummed the melody again for a few seconds, then wrapped her legs around me in return and spoke quietly, “Part of it was how new it was to me. I had been with a caravan for almost a year, and seen so much. But this was suddenly so new, and exciting. So I stayed—only meant to stay until the caravan came back through—but as I became more involved in the church, I suddenly realized I didn’t want to go back out. I knew this was the place for me.”

“So confident,” I whispered. “I don’t know what I want. Not anymore.”

“Confidence is just something you have to learn. Nopony is always sure of themselves in every situation. But you tell yourself that you are, that you’re sure, and you can become that way.” She stroked my mess of a mane for a while before continuing. “You can become anypony you want, if you believe you are who you’re trying to tell everyone you are.”

“Mmhmm,” I hummed back. The desire for sleep was becoming almost overwhelming, as all my energy had been taken from me in spurts and orgasms by the delightful mare I had curled up with. “Tell me more,” I tried.

She continued to stroke my mane, and gently rubbed my ears occasionally. Her rich, smooth voice was becoming distant as sleep overtook me.

Tufts of a deep red clouded my vision. I felt serene, like laying in a cloud of bliss.

I was warm, from the tips of my large ears, through to the ends of my hooves, and down my body, where the warmth and comfort took a turn toward the pleasurable.

As I concentrated on the feelings of increasing ecstasy between my legs, images of the pink mare with a billowing green mane rose and took over my field of view. I could see Willow smiling and giggling, her dolled up purple-painted face exaggerating her beautiful features.

I could see her looking down at me with a loving expression; I felt the warmth of body pressing against mine; her scent, that erotic, cinnamon-sweet scent, pervaded my senses; she leaned in for a kiss and her brilliant sapphire eyes seemed to glow.

The clouds in my mind began to pulse, then quicken, like lightning that bounced from one to another, turning them brilliant shades of white and gold. Images of her face were overtaken by the bursts of light, and with each new flash of the warm colors, my body tingled. I could feel a pressure building in me, and I started to squirm. I looked down and caught two sapphire eyes staring back up at me as Willow worked her tongue and I—

I awoke, gasping and moaning uncontrollably. I was on the verge, and a moment later—I burst in pleasure. “Aahn!” I screamed out, my body spasming and arching continually. I could feel her tongue in me, against me, and she flicked it against my sweet spots, bringing tears from pure pleasure to my eyes.

She continued her tongue’s movements through my bucking, spurting, and convulsing for several long moments.

“Good morning,” she murmured, sliding her body against mine up until she locked her eyes with mine. “My little fountain,” she laughed, licking her lips.

I wrapped my forelegs around her and pulled her to me, pressing my tongue into her mouth and staring deep into those passionate eyes.

She pulled away, pecked me once, and stood up. “Well! Today’s a new day, and I fully intend on collecting on those orgasms you owe me before I get back to work.” She spun in a circle, and swished her tail playfully aside, showing me the dew she had developed in the morning’s pleasure. “All five of them,” she grinned. She shook her flank slightly and glanced back at me, catching me staring at the sight, “Plus interest!”

“And for the first!” she called out, prancing toward the door, “I think we need a shower!”

I looked down over me—my normally-white coat had become more of a splotchy purple. The paint had dried in most places and my coat was sticking to it and the various streaks of pleasure over the night. Even over the sweet-cinnamon scent of the room, I could breathe in the mixture of our climaxes. Undoubtedly so will everyone on the way, I blushed.

The light of a late morning sun shone through the cracks in worn curtains over the multiple windows of Willow’s room. This will be a good day.

I stepped up onto my hooves and skipped after the sashaying mare ahead of me. A wonderful day.

“I need to check something from last night before we get busy,” she explained, turning down the hall toward the gambling den and bar. Skipping through it, we made our way past all the groggy-eyed minotaurs and ponies.

I kept close to Willow, trying to hide from the many snickers and knowing looks. We smell excessively of sex. But Willow didn’t seem even slightly bothered by it, and greeted and smiled at everyone in turn.

We stepped through the door at the end back into the gambling den. Several minotaurs in the black robes of the church were moving about, separating the litter and cleaning up various spills and other messes. I looked back to a glistening spot where my unsightly scene in front of the crowd the night before had taken place. I shifted with embarrassment and caught back up to Willow

She had stopped in the room, talking to one of the other church members. I trotted up to her, and looked around. Some of the patrons had taken to sleep on the lounges—and in one case, on a dice game table.

Willow pranced her way up the ramp to the bar, and I followed. The area here was much the same, with the same kinds of spills—generally—and unconscious patrons. I looked around over the church-bar, and that’s when I saw her.

Hanging from a chandelier was Bit Flip, mostly upside down. Her wings were out but her cloth underbarding—so she got it back, I see—was tangled up in it. Affixed to her drooped head was a bottle of Black Pony Whiskey.

I laughed, and directed Willow to the sight, and she laughed heartily.

“Should we get her down?”

Willow wiped a tear from her eye and shook her head. “No, no,” she giggled, “She’s fine. Let the Whiskeycorn sleep a bit longer.”

I knew I’d have to bring that up again later.