We Need to Talk.

Duwell had just followed Mind.

Somewhere.

I was almost right behind him! Should've tethered us together with my chains. Now, where could he have gone?

Duwell rose her voice to chant his name, echoes dancing back and forth through the bubbles and blips of wine-hued horizons.

He didn't respond.

...

"Hello?"

A tiny voice yipped back at her, catching Duwell off-guard.

She didn't tune into their locale, so she gave shouting a second try, "Hello! Is anypony there?! You see a pony , kinda short?! Around mid-life crisis age?! Grey messy hair?!"

All she heard was a rather unsure, "Ummm...no."

Growling, Duwell trotted to where she guessed the little voice was.

Duwell was surprised to find that it wasn't herself she saw as a kid, but a little colt version of Nicholas, blood-red fur and spiky white mane and all.

Annoyed by where this headache was taking her, she demanded of him, "Listen up, brat. Dunno why you're here. Or, why you're a kid. Or, why you aren't a mini sort of me. But, go home. Or, whatever it is you need to to be less of a pain in my plot. You hear?"

The pint-sized Nick smiled that stupid grin his adult version would, red eyes down in an attempt to appear caring.

He stated as if fact, "Why would I be you? You hate yourself."

...

...

......

The surrounding area morphed into her old hometown. She and the little bastard both shared a road together, all kinds of ponies suddenly walking on by.

She took this perfect opportunity to ground his little concerned face into a wooden fence.

He whimpered as any punished child would as she spat back, "What'd you say? Say it again, punk. I don't care if all these ponies see my dragging you through town."

"But, it's true!!!"

Duwell's intense glare soured slightly less as she returned, "No. I don't."

Nick's purple eyes wavered from concern to determination, "Then, why can't you let me be me?"

Duwell's look morphed from aggression to surprise, "What?"

They prodded her in the chest, telling the Changeling-Hybrid, "Let me be me!"

Duwell, not even taking in that she wasn't towering over them anymore, delivered with her best scripted line, "Your name is Nicholas Maroon. You had everything I wanted. You deserved my life."

The pony formerly referred to as Nick shook their head, "Your name is Duwell Former. You got nothing you needed. You only got to live."

Duwell was going to cut them off before a voice called out to her, "Duwell! I want you home! Auditions are tomorrow!"

Tears welled up in Duwell's eyes.

It was her.

What could she do?

All Duwell could say to the so-called Nick was, "...Farewell. I...I'm going home now."