Sea

Twilight Sparkle sat in the back of her boat, propped up against the rear wall. Her mane was messy and unkempt, her coat covered in dust, salt, grime, and sand, her tail unclean. Her face was one of equal parts boredom, sadness, and apathy, and she wore nothing but tattered old rags for clothes. Her legs were sprawled out across the boat's deck, lying like logs on the teak. Her eyes looked directly into the sunrise.

She did not call her boat by its name, for to her it had no name. It was simply "her boat." It was a name that bore no special connection, no inherent uniqueness, no specialty, no magical powers, nothing but the fact it was hers. It displayed no feelings, no emotion; and that was exactly what she wanted at this point.  All the same, in her time with it, she'd learned everything important about it, from exactly how much to put out the sail for whatever wind condition to how to use her hoof to measure where she was going, from navigating by the stars to adjusting to the ship's slight tendency to turn when underway, All these little tips and tricks, how to tell before dawn even came what the day would likely be like just by the slapping of the waves against the hull, how to tell precise time using the mast as a sundial, all of them helped her survive in some way or another. They gave her no feelings about her boat; they were just necessities to keep her alive.

Now, she slowly, laboriously, got to her hooves. She walked up to the mast, giving a small tug on the ropes to check its connections, before continuing all the way forward. Her horn quickly lit up with magic, and she slowly lifted the planks covering the under-deck away. She brought out a pair of metal pans, and filled one with seawater. She held both pans in her magic, the sea-water filled one below and the empty one above, and then suddenly lit a magic fire underneath the seawater-filled pan, instantly evaporating all the water in the pan and causing it to float into the one above it. She used a quick ice spell to freeze as much water in the top pot as she could, before dumping all the salt, sand, and ocean detritus she picked up from the seawater overboard. She'd run out of packed freshwater weeks ago - or was it months, now? - and had had to resort to more creative measures in order to keep herself alive. Thankfully, she'd only been without water for about a day before she came up with this technique; now, water was no concern to her as long as she could bring in enough seaweed, kelp, and green algae to keep herself fed. She took a sip of the near-pure water and felt the angelic drops of cold, delicious water roll down the inside of her throat. She drank viciously, holding the pan to her face and letting all the water it contained flow into her mouth and through her body, rejuvenating her and preparing her for another long day at sea.