A stream of consciousness is simpler to drown in than a running river. Moondancer knows that it's dangerous to let her mind wander. There are much more dangerous things. It doesn't matter. None of it matters. But a question still lingers at the frayed edges of her mind.

Time moves forward, unyielding, oppressing. Will anypony still think of her? At least, in the way she remembers them? Will they remember her? At least, in the way she wants to be remembered?

Edited by anonpencil