"Sprinkles?"
The coffee shop stood on the outskirts of Canterlot like a lighthouse that never got around to growing upwards, the lanterns cutting a yellow patchwork from the moonlit road outside. The doorbell jingled merrily as a purple pony entered, letting the summer breeze in through the open door. Flurries of dust, the smell of nectar and a lone streamer followed her in like curious foals, danced around in a burst of excitement and settled on the floor in sudden boredom as the door serenely clicked shut behind her. She shook her head tiredly, trying to dislodge the stubborn constellations of brightly colored confetti clinging to her mane and let the smell of cocoa welcome her in.
"Not this time, thank you," she teased back at the unseen voice. Sounds of commotion, no, battle came from the back of the shop, cutlery swords clanging against porcelain shields, the stumble of hooves in mortal struggle and finally a smash, a yelp and victorious cheer from the glassy crowds.
Luna snickered.
Her hooves clicked a muted waltz over the wooden floor as she strolled over to the checkered oasis in the middle of the shop, fruitlessly craning her neck to catch a glimpse of the racket in the back. A pair of mugs squared off against each other in their nightly challenge, a faded moonlit castle and a chipped rainbow fuming their insincere threats at each other across the table. Luna closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the hot cocoa's sweet aroma. It felt warm.
It was a minute and half a cup later when another pony walked through the kitchen door, a plate of waffles in his mouth, hooves clopping a half of a jaunty two-step as he weaved his way between bare tables and upturned chairs with legs sticking in the air like a forest of confused lightning rods.
"You look like you've had a busy day," she said at the haggard-looking colt across the table, who'd barely set the plate down before starting to casually pick out a waffle from the pile.
"My parents took me to a few Summer Sun Celebrations when I was younger," he nodded, dipping it into his own mug. His mane wobbled along the perfect split at the top of his head, and Luna sniggered again under her breath. "I didn't expect the chaos of being on the business end of it."
"It gets busier every year. At first it was just the ponies in Canterlot. Then they started coming from all over Equestria. Now…"
"Now creatures from all over the world come for the celebrations," the pony finished. "If I never see another dragon again, it'll be too soon."
"Dragons?" Luna's smile vanished and she put the cup down. "Has one of them been bullying you?"
"No," the pony answered quickly, putting a hoof up. "Nothing like that."
"Do I need to give someone a talking to?"
"Not at all, I mean…" He looked down apologetically, away from the piercing glare. "Most of them were really polite, but…"
"But?"
"Some –"
"Yes?"
"A few really –"
"Go on."
"Kept…" The pony paused, glanced up at the pair of green eyes locked on his, fumbled for words that wouldn't make him feel like a complete fool, and gave up.
"Setting the tablecloths on fire."
Luna stared, her face a mask of worry and anger.
Then a giggle bubbled up from the depths.
"Young ones, right?" She forced down a chortle.
The pony tilted his head quizzically. "Y-es?"
"Yellow scales? Red fins on their heads?"
"How did you –"
"And you ran out of gemstones, didn't you?" Her face peeled into a crazed grin and she exploded into laughter, leaning into the table, a hoof covering her face as she giggled maniacally.
"Well, that's hardly an excuse to -"
"They couldn't! Stop! Burping!" Luna squealed between giggles, gasped for breath and broke down again.
The colt stared.
"See," Luna said once her laughing subsided, wiping away a tear, giggles lurking in the wings eyeing an opportunity for a rematch, "Yellow, yellow dragons, they, when they're growing up, they can't digest anything except gems, right? Except I bet they didn't know that yet! So when you gave them, what, normal pony food, they just scarfed it down, right?"
"I still don't understand."
"It's not that big a deal in Equestria, but we get a lot of visitors from the Wyrmudas and, see, they think burping is a little…" She grinned wider. "Impolite."
The pony mulled that over. "So they waited for me to turn my back -"
"Because they didn't want you to see them – "
"- held it in and burped when they didn't think anyone was looking –"
"And since dragons belch fire –"
The colt put a hoof over his face. "They kept burning the tablecloths."
"In the middle of a crowded restaurant!" Luna laughed. "I wish I could have seen it!"
"That explains why they kept putting their hands over their mouths. I thought they were just laughing at me." He tilted his head. "How do you know so much about dragons?"
Luna smirked back. "You have to know these things when you're a princess, you know. And besides," she added, eyeing a pastry hovering straight at her, "It happens almost every year now."
Movement outside caught her eye and the pastry almost knocked her crown off before she picked it up in her hoof and took a thoughtful bite. The breeze outside had begun to pick up in earnest and the grass outside rippled in the wind, green waves beating on the shores of an uncharted island. An old oak tree swayed its branches slowly. Leaves on its gnarled branches pulsed their own pale and green rhythm. In the yellow light the flowers in bloom looked like fingers. No, tentacles, glowing in the darkness deep beneath the surface, waving her over. No sound at all, she thought. There should be a rustle of leaves. Creaking of branches. The whistle of wind blowing through the shingles. Hooffalls, she thought, as the light around her faded. Arguments. Breathing. Hammers on wood. Crying foals. Laughter.
She could feel the sea outside. She saw it come in every night, a tide she didn't know how to stop anymore. It leaked through good-byes and good-nights, flowed through lullabies and candle smoke, until it poured freely, flooding streets and houses, covering forests and towns and mountains and fields, an ocean of silence covering as far and as deep as she could see, with no place to stand except this tiny island of words.
"Yourself at least."
"What?" A voice snapped Luna out of her daze and she looked across the table, blinking groggily.
"I said, miss Luna, it looks like you've enjoyed…" He tilted his head. "Are you feeling all right? You look a little…" He held his hoof up and wobbled it about.
"I'm fine," she smiled back, putting down the empty cup and rubbing her eye. "Just a little tired." A weak smile fought its way to her face. "I'll never understand how anypony can be up so early."
"Everypony was raised that way, I suppose." He took another nibble of the pastry. "Work and play in the daytime. Sleep at night."
An eyebrow rose. "Not everypony."
"Well, somepony needs to stay up and keep you fed," the colt shot back easily.
"You're right," Luna smirked back. "I'll have to inform the palace chef he's being replaced by Equestria's foremost purveyor of lukewarm chocolate and undercooked waffles."
On the other side of the table, the pony took a mock bow, his indifferent expression not wavering for a moment. "Predictably, your penchant for patisseries past their purchase period is perpetually perfect, miss Luna."
Luna took another bite and stared off into the distance. The pony never smiled when he thought she was watching, she noticed early. Or frowned, or raised his voice or laughed for that matter, but there was always an undercurrent of warmth underneath. Even the ridiculous "miss" he never let go of distilled over time into a finely aged, comfortable blanket. She poked the empty mug with a hooftip. "Are you ever going to tell me how you do it?", she asked.
"You know my condition, miss Luna," the colt shrugged. "I still suspect you simply wait for me to set the table before swooping in."
The princess squinted. "So you think I magically know exactly when you'll end up making all this and just happen to plan everything beforehand around it?"
"Yes," the colt said, after a moment's thought, and shrugged. "It's magic."
Luna shook her head. "Magic doesn't work that way. Well, actually… no, no, that wouldn't work either." A smirk crept onto her face. "I might as well accuse you of doing the exact same thing."
"Indeed," the pony nodded and continued, deadpan. "An earth pony who can not only perform magic but can use it with enough skill to consistently keep surveillance, on a princess no less, while keeping everypony, his target included, from finding out is clearly the only remaining plausible explanation."
"Celestia knows," Luna huffed. "I've asked her. Since you won't tell me." She glared across the table. "And you know what I found out?"
The pony simply looked back, expressionless.
"That she won't tell me either!!", Luna yelled at the ceiling, her ears twitching in irritation. "When I asked her she just gave me that little grin of hers, you know the one when -"
"We've never -"
"- she knows that you already know and it's going to smack you in the face when you least expect it and you're going to feel like a complete mule just for asking." She groaned and dropped her chin on the table, plastering an exaggerated pout on her face for good measure. The chipped mug, an inch from her nose, pouted right back. Disapproving of its insubordination, she pushed it aside, resting it precariously at the edge of the table. "I love her so much, but sometimes…" Luna tried to growl. Instead, a sound like a chipmunk snoring escaped her throat. "Sometimes I just want to kick her in the flank, you know?"
"I can relate," the pony nodded. "In fact, there's this filly that comes in every night or so…"
"Oh ha ha." Luna wiped the pout from her face and smiled across the table. "Anyway, it's not like earth ponies can't use magic, you know that. Heck, I could teach you. Even Celestia has her star pupil and I…" Her smile faltered for a moment before, raising its banners and trumpets blaring, making another charge. "I always have time."
"I know, and… thank you." The pony hesitated. "You've offered before, but I… I don't think magic would work that well for me. Odds are I'd set fire to half of Canterlot by accident, and I wouldn't even need draconian indigestion to do it."
"Well, it would have made the Summer Sun Celebration a little less of a trial, at least." Luna tried to force a laugh. "I'm sorry, that was mean. Every year it gets a little more disheartening."
"The celebration? Why so?" the pony quirked his head. "With so many ponies coming to see you –"
"See me?" Luna snorted. "They don't come to see me at all. All of them wanted to talk to Celestia. I'm not jealous, really, I'm not, but…" She put a hoof on the table. "Did you know that foals barely even knew who I was? When one asked their mother what I do, and she said I raise the moon every night, you know what they asked back?"
Luna opened her eyes wide and slackened her face.
"Whad's a damoon?" she drawled, then sighed. "Not one pony even tried to talk to me. Not even to say hi, just…" She looked down at the checkered table. "Just to talk. Ask me something. Thank me for the moonlight, or the stars. Or… anything, really."
"That's strange," the pony answered, picking out the last of the waffles. "Then again, with everypony sleeping at night, maybe not that strange."
"Why do they do that?" she asked. "Why do they never come out at night? Why do they hide away from me?"
The pony shrugged. "I don't think they're hiding. Everypony needs to rest sometime, after all."
"But why at night?" Luna asked. "Why always at night?"
"Because everypony else does, I suppose. Well, almost everypony," he quirked an eyebrow, as expressive as he ever got, intentionally at least. "I live in Neverflee forest, so it's quiet enough that I can sleep through the mornings, but I imagine it would be hard for anypony to sleep at all with so much noise everywhere. They could just as easily sleep in the daytime, but I assume it was simply a coincidence it turned out the way it did."
It wasn't a coincidence, Luna thought. She remembered the nights, the early nights, when Celestia would lower the sun and darkness fell. She remembered seeing that fear, that deep, hidden terror of the dark in the eyes of ponies. Lanterns and torches, candles in windows beating weakly away at the darkness everywhere. Before the moon stopped being a stupid fairy-tale for little foals, when every night ponies would walk with their eyes firmly on the ground rather than look up at the gaping, starless, empty pit above them, opening away into nothing.
Some days, she almost missed it. Almost.
"And now you and I are just about the only ponies who bother with the night anymore." Luna sighed.
"We don't have to be."
Luna blinked and looked up, hopeful. "What do you mean?"
"It's simple enough. You and I sleep during the day – you could always sleep during the night. It would give you a chance to spend some time with your other subjects."
"I can't," Luna said, crestfallen. "Really, I can't. If I do that, I'll be too tired to bring up the moon in the evening, or lower it later."
"Maybe you can trade places with Celestia? You can raise the sun and -"
"No, we've tried that once." She shuddered under the memory. "She can, and I can, but it's… difficult. We agreed we should both do what we do best. Besides," she managed a weak smile. "It's my special talent. I've got the cutie mark and everything. If I don't make the night as beautiful as it can be, who will?"
The wind stopped.
"So you only have company from Celestia and, well, your visits here."
On the lawn, the waves slowed, then froze.
"When she's not away, at least. Royal duty and all. A few hours here or there, when she can make the time."
The air thickened, turned to water, glass.
"Tricky." A sound, a few more. A hoof tapping on wood, not so much breaking the silence as punctuating it.
"I asked Celestia, though." A smile. Relief.
"Oh?" Curiosity. Warmth.
"She said I should just spend more time with my friends."
Outside, the ocean drew back, waves pulling away from the lighthouse shores, as though it were holding its breath.
"I wouldn't know," said the pony calmly and swallowed the last of the waffle. "I try not to get attached."
The ground lurched. Luna tried to keep her footing as the coffee shop swayed from side to side, gripping the table desperately like a raft in a hurricane. She felt something slam into the coffee house, once, twice, buckling the walls and twisting the rafters, felt it roar, not in frustration, not in anger, but victory, joyous and savage and final. The ocean poured into the tiny building, through windows and doors, crushing the roof above, a tide rising all around her, seizing its moment at last. She felt the ground fall out under her, screamed and clambered to higher ground in desperate panic. Beneath her, somepony stared at her in terror, took a step back, said something, then shouted.
"what's wrong" She barely heard the voice over the torrent. She had to leave, she had to escape.
"Nothing's wrong!" Another voice. Deeper. Stronger. Angry. No, terrified. She recognized it. It was hers.
"You scream, you're huge, you're crying, you're, you're… flowy!" The pony looked up at her, his face a mess of confusion, bewilderment and disbelief. She almost laughed, but it hurt to breathe.
"Don't worry about it," she answered, struggling to keep her balance. "I'm fine."
"YOU'RE STANDING ON MY TABLE!!", the pony bellowed back in exasperation, then jumped back as a crash reverberated through the shop. Luna looked down. A jumbled mess of colorful shards lay in a heap in the middle of a brown puddle.
"Luna," he said. His voice trembling, he took a careful step forward, holding a hoof out. "Come down. You're scaring me."
Luna leaned forward. She could feel the tide at her throat now, sense the wave coming at her, as big as the world. "Why are you scared?" she answered, more calmly than she thought she could. "I'd never hurt one of my subjects."
The pony froze in mid-step. The fear vanished in an instant, giving way to anger. "I'm not your subject!" he spat. "I'm your - "
She felt the wave hit, almost bowling her over. She could barely see anymore and felt the current pull her down, hopelessly trying to get her bearings as the world around her spun like mad. She tried to breathe, and almost choked for her trouble.
Up on the ground, the pony put his hoof down slowly. "Look," he pleaded. "It would only take me a minute to lock up. We could go for a walk, maybe. It's a beautiful night out."
And she saw it. The way out, right in front of her, shining and warm and blindingly beautiful. She swam toward it desperately, up, take it before it's gone, not tomorrow, not today, but now…
"You're right," Luna said, carefully stepping off the table. "It is a beautiful night out. You're the first pony to say so in years." She stepped forward and put a hoof over the pony's neck, relief flooding through her. "Thank you."
She stepped back and wrapped her tail around her. Her mane twisted and enveloped her, stars swirling around her like a cloud.
"I'm going to miss it."
"Why?" The pony looked at the magic, confused, hopeful and afraid all at the same time. "What's there to miss?"
"What I do best," the cloud said, peacefully. And with that, it bent, twisted, turned in on itself, and vanished.
Twenty minutes later, as the confused pony turned off the lights and locked the doors, the realization stabbed him like a knife through the chest. He turned to the palace just as a rainbow of light flashed from one of the towers. He thought he heard a scream, but he couldn't be sure.
Dropping the keys, he galloped madly through the beautiful moonlit night.
Luna slowly came to, picking away at the cobwebs that seemed to cover the inside of her skull. She shook her head groggily, trying to dislodge the layer of dust clinging stubbornly to her skin, and looked at the world underneath, a carpet stretching out from one horizon to another. I've never flown this high up before, she thought. I guess I'm still dreaming.
She turned around lazily. Equestria rolled slowly under her, and she looked at the night sky. Something was missing. The moon, she realized. Did I forget to raise the moon?
No, she thought to herself, that's nonsense. I can feel it's there. But I should really wake up now. It's an important day today. So many ponies to come to see her. Sleep too long, and she might miss it.
I can't feel my legs, she realized, and curled up tighter. She could feel the mountains stretching like spires into the sky, great empty seas, old slumbering volcanoes, dust-filled craters and rocks strewn every which way like discarded toys. No wings either, she thought. But it's all right.
She had a dream. No, a nightmare. It was a fantasy that followed her like a wolf, hungry and persistent. Luna tried to wake up, to shake it off, outrun it, but the more she woke up, the closer it got, snarling and snapping at her heels. She remembered flying into Celestia's bedroom, happier than she ever remembered being. She remembered words, friendly, hopeful, then disappointed and angry. She remembered shouting things, hateful and ugly and twisted, sharpened like knives and spat like venom. She remembered screaming threats at her sister until she couldn't hear her anymore.
Luna shuddered and tried to push the memory aside. She looked so sad, she thought, looking down at her kingdom. She brushed the thin clouds away, sweeping across the land like a beam of light. No light anywhere, not even in the coffee shop, and the pony was nowhere to be seen either, not even on his way to Neverflee Forest. Strange, she thought, and glanced toward the palace, and even stranger to see Celestia on a rampart, looking so light and fragile, as though a single word would blow her away like so many dry leaves, moon reflected in her eyes, looking
up
right
back
at
Luna screamed.
Silence screamed back.
"Sprinkles?"
Luna glanced up through the cracked bakery door and quickly shushed the bell, sneaking into the shop like a thief. She stepped inside, closing the door behind her as soundlessly as she could and squinted at the blinding light.
"Yeah, sprinkles," a huffy, foal-like voice demanded from across the room. "And keep'em coming!"
Outside, the smell of donuts filled the late summer air, and with the bustle on the streets Luna couldn't help but notice the shop was strangely empty. Even with so much attention on the gala, she expected to see more customers around, instead of a single baby dragon on a high chair, steadily working his way up to a sugar crash despite the halfhearted arguments of a chubby yellow stallion across the counter.
She'd barely made it to a corner table, practically tipclopping across the tile when the unicorn's face lit up with panic. Shoving a trayful of donuts at the sulking dragon with a mumble of okay-fine-help-yourself, he rushed around the counter, smacking the racks of donuts behind him with his flank which wobbled precariously as he almost galloped across the shop.
"Good evening, your…" he shrank from the sudden green-eyed glare. "Uh, Luna. How may I, I mean, what can I get you?"
"My usual, if you don't mind, Joe," Luna answered quietly, forcing a smile.
"Of, of course," the pony stammered taking a few steps back, bowing at her. Bowing. Luna forced back a frustrated scream, looking across the room to the dragon putting away donuts like he was getting ready for three years' worth of winter.
Maybe I should go on over, she thought, as the dragon morosely picked up yet another donut. He looks like he could use a friend. He did sound familiar, though, even if she couldn't place the voice. And didn't she see a baby dragon wandering around the palace the other day? It wouldn't hurt to try and strike up a conversation. As she looked on, he sneezed fire over it, then shrugged and shoved the charred mess in his mouth anyway.
On second thought, maybe not.
She sighed to herself and drooped her eyes, letting the sounds of merrymaking outside wash over her. Waves of laughter, shouts, sarcastic mutterings, squeals and chatter rose and fell, until she felt like it was a river, carrying her along, everywhere and nowhere at all.
"Your majesty."
Luna flinched as the world snapped back into focus, the river evaporating in an eyeblink, and slowly looked sideways, trying her hardest not to grind her teeth at the nervous-looking unicorn.
"No thank you, Joe, that'll be all," she squeezed out between clenched teeth.
"Th-thank you, your maj-, er, Luna," he stammered back, his eyes darting around the room like crazed mosquitoes, terrified of looking Luna in the eye for even a second. He looked like he was a hair's breadth away from stampeding out of his own shop. When she asked him not to call her "your majesty", he never obliged her. When she asked him to treat her like any other customer, he didn't humor her either. When she told him that, in his own shop, he didn't need to act like she was royalty, he didn't do her any favors.
Like all of her subjects, he obeyed instead.
"Just… go," she breathed, defeated. "Just go."
She looked over the table as the pony retreated back behind the counter. A plate of waffles and two mugs of cocoa steamed on the opposite ends of the table. It was foolish, and she knew it. The coffee shop had burnt down, then burnt down again, stomped flat, rebuilt underground, then moved back above ground after being flooded and so on and so forth. After a thousand years of tiny disasters, there wasn't a single same brick left anymore, but coming in every night still felt like coming home all over again. It wasn't the same, but it was… same enough. Same enough for ritual. Same enough for comfort. Same enough for memory.
"Not this time," Luna said under her breath as she took a sip of cocoa and looking out the open window. "Thank you."
The gala was in full swing by now, at least if the music carrying over half of Canterlot was anything to guess by. She remembered the galas being boring, dreadful affairs, filled with sleepy-eyed nobles and noble would-bes that only showed up to trade gossip and be seen with everyone they wanted to be and pretended to look down on at the same time. It was the only time when ponies would stay up through the night and she loathed every moment of it.
Celestia must be having the time of her life, she thought, looking out at the moon.
"What's it feel like to raise the moon, anyway?" The question floated into her mind like a leaf on a breeze, a stray memory from a lifetime ago.
It feels like the smell of stone and moss growing in the cracks between, cool but never cold. It feels like aches in your legs, ascending the palace tower, even though she could easily fly up, savoring the trip one step at a time. It feels promising, looking up at the empty sky as my sister gives it back to me. It feels like spreading your wings and closing your eyes and lifting the moon from under the horizon like something fragile and precious and hanging it from the sky for everyone to see. It feels like awe and comfort and pure, naked joy at the sight of fairy tales come true. It feels like thousands of tiny pinpricks as stars come out, some shy and twinkling, others bold and bright, stepping out from behind the curtain of the sky like actors in the greatest show in the world, there to perform just for you…
She probably dodged the question. It would've sounded like she was bragging.
And some nights…
Some nights you stand on the tower and look across the horizon, and close your eyes and feel the rock that was your home for a thousand years lurking underneath like a shipwreck, as bright and beautiful as it was the first time she reached out to it, shining like a beacon or an angler's light. Some nights it feels like the calm, soothing voice of your sister, whom you trust more than anyone, telling you it's all right, and believing her. Some nights it feels like an anvil, stubborn and heavy, dragged slowly, inch by painful inch, because you're too afraid of yourself to touch it again.
"Luna," she'd said. "Please, stop hiding away. You've been banished for a thousand years and you still punish yourself. Come back home." Celestia looked into her sister's eyes, then looked down. "It was too long a punishment. Can you ever forgive me?"
Luna stared back at her sister. Celestia was sincere in her regret. She always was. Raising the moon every night took its toll, but she knew it was the love for her sister that tore her up inside. In this moment, asking for forgiveness, she was so weak and vulnerable, Luna could almost see the cracks where her sister's heart would break with nothing more than a word. She felt anger well up inside her, things crawled out from the darkest corners of her mind, and she realized how easy it would be to take her sister apart, to take that guilt and stab her over and over with it, to unleash a stampede of insults to trample her down and stamp out any shred of dignity she had. She could crush her sister so completely, she knew she would never recover, and even then it would still only be a taste of what she deserved.
Her chest heaving, Luna reached out and touched her sister's face.
"Of course I forgive you, silly," she said, smiling and pulling her into a hug.
Celestia looked up at her sister, tears welling up in her eyes. "The gala should be starting soon. Come down with me? You'll make some friends." She wiped her face and smiled mischievously. "Promise."
Luna stepped back, as if bitten. "I… I can't. I'm sorry, I can't."
"But why, little sister?"
Because you weren't wrong, Luna thought. Because a thousand years wasn't too long. It wasn't long enough. Because under every smile and every friendly word, there was an undercurrent of fear beneath. She was Nightmare Moon, come to imprison her sister and bring about eternal night each time she appeared. Not a young pony of a handful of years, but a thing of legends, an old mare's tale to scare naughty foals, here in flesh and blood, so dark and powerful and terrible that only the most powerful magic in Equestria could keep her reined in.
Luna shrank and stepped back. "I just can't."
Leaping over the wall, she spread her wings and glided through the summer air. Down on the ground, ponies of all colors and sizes milled around, carriages arrived at the palace gates, merchants hawked their wares in their streets. It wasn't just tonight either. Every night, ponies stayed up, not as many, but more than none, stargazing, talking or just playing through the night.
She would have given up anything for this. In the end, she didn't even need to.
She swooped down towards the familiar island on the outskirts of the city, now joined by several more. Each night she expected, in some hopeful part of her mind, to find a pair of hot mugs, a plate of waffles, and a pony waiting for her by a checkered oasis.
The cocoa was stone cold by now. The plate sat untouched in the center of the table. Over by the counter, Joe tried to talk sense into the dragon, casting the occasional nervous glance in her direction. She turned her attention to the pony across the table. Sometimes he was an earth pony. Sometimes a unicorn or a pegasus. Sometimes brown, or gray or yellow or green. Most nights, he was nothing at all, only a half-forgotten apparition mimicking what her memory told her he must have been.
Luna tossed a pair of coins on the table and stepped outside. A gaggle of ponies that looked as though they'd wandered out from an explosion staggered past her. The bell jingled merrily as they went in.
She fluffed her wings and took off casually, letting the bustle underneath carry her up like an updraft, then slowly taking wider, stronger flaps as Canterlot receded under her. Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy, she thought, looking up at the tilted, off-balance moon in the sky, grudgingly framed by a handful of stars. But it'll do.
Soaring above a world that was everything she ever wanted it to be, wings beating against the thinning air, Luna flew home.
