An Affluent Zebra

Leaning against the railings of the vessel as it steers effortlessly through their watery path, Ronnie enjoys the last of the crisp ocean air that accompanies them as their destination nears. The other passengers have much the same idea, a small crowd of Pony, Zebra, and a few outliers crowding around the front of the ship to watch as they close in on the port. Zor and Zar appear beside Ronnie with hardly contained excitement, all three watching as the edges of Farasi slowly become clearer in the coming hours.

After nothing but waves and horizon-spanning sea, the promise of proper land underfoot again is an impending relief. Well, that, and the obvious one that Ronnie can't wait for. Seeing Zharris again. His fingers fidget with themselves as his hands keep busy wringing themselves in a mixture of nervousness and anticipation of seeing her again.

"Where are we landing?" Ronnie asks, glancing between the pair of Zebra that flank each of his sides.

Zar's tail is practically swishing about on the air, clearly a little preoccupied by the thought of seeing whatever is waiting for him at home. Zor glances up, pointing forward across the water, over the railing.

"Djihoofi. Zabra knows what we're doing after we land, but..." Zor glances around looking for the Zebra, whose been out of sight for a significant portion of their waterbound journey.

Their search is cut short, as a third, recognizable and frowning Zebra shoves in between them, practically throwing himself against the railings.

"Miss Zharris is..." Zabra pauses, taking a long, deep breath, likely keeping something from coming up.
"Going to meet us. At the port."

"Really?" Ronnie perks up immediately, standing up.

"Mmmmm." The noise was probably meant to be some kind of affirmation, but Zabra gave up on it partway through, choosing to try and veil his discomfort with a long, winding groan. But Ronnie hardly notices, now excited eyes drifting to the port and the looming land.

The final hour of encroachment feels like it lasts an entire day, watching the crew bustle and run around for their landing preparations, the Captain shouting orders as they near. Then, finally, the ship is guided in along the docks for disembarking.

Unlike the wooden, forest-carved dockyards of Equestria, already unfamiliar sights make themselves clear with what looks like stone-carved piers that were drawn out of the very ground. The ships that sit moored are of thicker, wider builds, almost like the junk ships of old, keeping with the dated design philosophy of this world.

The water besides their ship bubbles, as several Kelpie emerge from it's depths -- the water swirls around them, several surprised gasps erupt from the startled crowd as the ship lurches, being pushed and eased towards their supposed landing. The waters manipulated by the Kelpie as they swim alongside them, rising, falling and shifting with small waves.

Zabra barely stomachs the sudden, unnatural movement, nearly heaving over the side. He manages to keep his mouth shut, though a shade of green never quite leaves him until they actually land.

Mr. Jiggles and his luggage collected from his room, Ronnie feels solid ground underfoot for the first time in a week. Any relief he thinks he feels is nothing compared to Zabra, who takes a long moment to keep all four hooves planted firmly on the ground the moment they get off the boat. Several of the crowd have to walk around him as he steadies his breathing, sighing loudly.

"And you go through this each time you travel to Equestria?" Ronnie asks, waiting beside Zabra.

Zabra glances up, giving Ronnie a look. No words quite yet. He's still a little green, but at least he doesn't look like the last weeks worth of whatever he manages to swallow is threatening to come back up.

"You're dedicated, Zabra, I'll give you that." Ronnie pats the Zebra's back, expecting some kind of rebuff. Instead, Zabra just takes a long, deep breath.

"...Thanks." He grunts, managing to make up some of his lost composure with a puffed out chest.
"This way. Miss Zharris should be waiting just up ahead."

Every time she's mentioned, Ronnie can feel the nervousness bubble up inside again. The excitement, the anticipation of seeing her. Here he was, in another world for a woman he met months ago on a single night, all because they clicked and found comfort in the other during a party that neither of them quite felt at place in.

And she's a half-sized zebra.

He could work around that part, though. Just needed his nerves to steady a bit.

"Coming?" Zabra calls back, noticing Ronnie start to fall behind. Zor and Zar pause, each tilting their head inquisitively.

"Oop -- yep. Lead the way." Ronnie quickly jogs after Zabra, though stops to walk at one of Mr. Jiggles disgruntled meows at being shaken around, earning a few quick apologies from Ronnie.

...

Ronnie nearly loses Zabra in the dock-gathered crowd, between the various Zebra sailors and dockworkers that prepare the vessels, loading and unloading their cargo, excited visitors or returnees being greeted by family or grouping up to prepare for the rest of their trip. Compared to Equestria, it's odd seeing Ponies as the minority here. Zebra clearly make up the largest bulk of the population, and their choice of style is stark. White and black, almost no variation in fur color compared to the wide array of rainbow-like options that the Pony has, besides the odd shift in a browner tone of stripe. Typically shorter, or styled manes, with Mohawks and braids being very common choices. And like how Zharris mentioned, saddlebags and other utility clothing seem to reign Supreme, at least in this area.

For every couple of Zebra, the other races she mentioned pop up here and there -- the Abada, what Ronnie assumes to be Farasi's Unicorns, standing a good head taller than their striped ilk. They're thinner, and they sport two horns, kind of like a thin, angular rhino. They offer a little more color variety between the white and black that populates his view, though their coats are notably less saturated, offering more muted colors. Then there's the Kelpie, who are climbing up the stonework docks with the help of the sailors, the waves practically carrying them up and onto land with large splashes. They offer the most unique appearance out of all the Fatasi denizens that Ronnie has seen so far. Some look more like sea-horses with fins, spindly little wings and more exaggerated facial features, and others with manes of water appearing more like a sharp-mouthed Pony that still has hooves. It looks like there's no uniformity to their species, their colors varying wildly and quite deeply saturated, as if to blend them in with the deep ocean. They seem more comfortable half-dangling into the water as they chat with their coworkers, a few breaking off to guide another vessel on it's way out.

The city beyond the port doesn't lack in variety of sights, either. The buildings of Farasi look to be built out of a mixture if clay and brick, with colorful splashes of paint to break up the mixture of oranges, browns and reds of the brickwork and roads. Numerous overhangs of equally bright cloth hang from roofs and the corners of buildings, offering shade to those passing beneath their breadth. Everything has this elaborate, detailed look to it with engravings and designs placed on every possible avenue. Lattice paneling makes up most windows to provide sightline and shade in one, and every pole-end, roof corner and roof itself hosts some kind of design to differentiate the buildings and give their own flair. Ronnie was probably going to be getting plenty of use out of every patch of shade he could, he's only been here for minutes and he's already starting to sweat. It's hot here, and the weather has him tugging at his shirt collar.

Once he finally breaks free of the crowds, he catches the recognizable sight of his own luggage, held off to the side as a group of four Zebra's speak. Admittedly, it's becoming a little difficult to tell all the Zebra's apart now that there's a wide bulk of them added to the area, but he manages to pick out Zor and Zar as they stand beside his bags, waiting patiently. Zabra and the fourth Zebra exchange a firm, tight hug, giving Ronnie an idea just who that Zebra might be. As Ronnie nears, their conversation becomes more clear against the ambient noise of the docks.

"...am glad to see you well, Zabra. I hope your journey wasn't too tiresome. What of--?" A familiar, feminine voice asks, before she steps around from Zabra, smiling as she sees Ronnie. Of course, Ronnie recognizes her and those brilliantly purple eyes instantly. They practically sparkle as they spot him, the two staring at each-other with dumb, wide smiles that crawl across their faces.

To say she looked vibrant was an understatement, the way she outright shines as she looks at him. She looked almost otherworldly -- which, admittedly, she was -- probably some mix of not having seen her in so long, and the journey to actually reach her. It gave Ronnie an appreciation for the trek she took every time she went to one of Mister Bank's 'business meets'. Rather than the fancy dress he witnessed her in months prior, she looked... well, part of him wants to say casual, but she still looks like she could stand out amongst the fanciest crowds. She's got this off-white sunhat with a plum-colored band around it's base sitting on her head, with little holes for her ears to peek through unhindered past the large, protective brim. Her mane has been carefully done up into a singular, large braid that hangs off her shoulder, her tail braided in a very similar fashion.

The two pause their approach, exchanging a silent stare where neither is quite sure what to say, despite the clear but silent excitement in being in the others presence again. Mere feet away, there isn't a hint of awkwardness about it. Just... trying to figure out what's the right way to greet them. A simple hello?

Finally, Ronnie kneels down, setting the carrier down beside himself, holding his arms out. In an instant, Zharris closes the distance, practically leaping into his arms as her hooves wrap around him in turn. Her hat nearly falls off as she buries her snout into his neck, barely kept in place by one of Ronnie's hands. She takes a long, deep breath, humming in contentment.

"Hey, Zharris. Long time no see." Ronnie whispers, cheek brushing against her soft, shorter fur. She stifles a laugh at his words, holding him closer.

"Long time indeed." She chuckles, still holding him as tightly as one could with hooves.
"I... was a little worried you wouldn't come, I must admit."

"Of course I would." Ronnie retorts, pulling away slightly to look at her face. She sniffles, trying to hide that she's fighting back the start of tears in her eyes.
"It probably took pulling some serious strings to get me here. You know I've been thinking of you each day since we left, right?" Ronnie sweetly affirms, hand to her cheek.

"I know. Just... unfounded worries, I suppose. I'm glad you're here." She sighs, wiping her face with a hoof.

Ronnie can't help but pull her close again, the two locked in a tight hug for quite some time, even ignoring Zabra's attempt at a cough to try and break them up. No dice, they're not rushing this little reunion. Not until Zharris finally pats Ronnie's shoulder to be released, clearing her throat and trying to look presentable again as she adjusts her sunhat.

"Sorry. Needed that." She mutters, getting one final sniffle in before trying to smoothly move things along.
"And this must be the prolific Mr. Jiggles I've heard about?" Zharris crouches down, looking through the grate of the carrier.

A small, poised paw reaches out through a gap in the door grate, batting Zharris' nose.
"O-oh!" She flinches back, surprised.

"Hope it's alright that I brought him, I didn't have anyone to watch him, and I didn't know how long I'd be gone for." He sticks a finger through the bars, wriggling it at Mr. Jiggles. He gets similar treatment, feeling a paw smack at his intrusion.

"Of course. Cats aren't uncommon as a choice of pet around here, I'm sure he'll settle in fine." Zharris affirms, rubbing her snout.
"However... I'm afraid your journey isn't quite over yet." Zharris turns, nodding for Ronnie to follow.

"Oh?" Ronnie asks, standing and lifting the carrier again.

"Miss Zharris' estate is a short distance inland. You--" Zabra goes to add, but Zharris' head whips around the moment he uses a certain word.

"You haven't been calling me Miss Zharris the entire time, have you?" She suddenly cuts in, giving Zabra a look.

"W-well, I..." Zabra stammers, to no avail. Zor and Zar glance between the other, staying to the side.

"I told you to quit it, Zabra. Makes me feel old." She chides, bumping his shoulder with a hoof.
"I'm not having my own sibling call me such, no matter how intent you are on being my right-hoof."

"You know it's best to keep a level of professionalism, Zharris." He tries to argue, but she simply stares at him. Any further attempt for words turn into half-hearted mumbles, before his defiance breaks.
"Sorry." Zabra lowers his head, letting a rare bashfulness slip through -- though Zabra also throws Ronnie a glare as he snorts at the interaction, but can do little about it under Zharris' watchful gaze.

"Now come along, Ronnie. I'm sure you'll love the place." Zharris picks right up, practically hopping into position right beside him. It's a little hard to see her face past the brim of her hat at this angle, but every now and then, Ronnie catches sight of the smile firmly sat on her face -- like the way she keeps bumping into his leg wasn't enough of a sign of how content she was with his presence again.

"Tall doorways?" Ronnie asks hopefully.

"You know it." Zharris grins, a little extra spring in her step.

...

It wasn't actually as far as they made it sound to be. Expecting another connection through train or several hours of some kind of journey, Ronnie was surprised that their additional detour was only a short walk through the city. Being built along the coast meant that Djihoofi itself wasn't built that deep inland, constructed along the water. Cutting through the city in a rather short time took them outside the city gates, and left them emerging onto a road that lead to a small, walled off oasis that bespoke of being Zharris' and Zabra's home. Zharris informed him it was a family estate, passed down to each generation. Zabra was originally the next in line, but he stepped down to allow Zharris to rise as household head, having a better grasp on the logistics of business than him.

Clay walls with the odd post surrounded a collection of palm trees and a natural, sizeable oasis tucked in the savannah grass, one of the last little bastions of comfort before it turned to proper desert far in the distance. A metal gate is slowly open, unlocked by a key pulled from underneath Zharris' hat, as she leads the group inside the grounds.

The estate seems to make full use of the fresh water source within it's walls, a wide variety of flowers and plants growing in variously sized planters and boxes to provide a wide array of color. Large, looming palm trees that lean and sway offer natural shade to them as they pass underneath, while several buildings sit in view. The largest and most obvious is the main estate, sat center stage. Multi-floor with a foundation of brick, it transitions into clay walls with wooden beams and lattice windows, managing a simple but elegant aesthetic. There's a smaller, single-floor and wider building that Zor and Zar seem to look towards, likely the bunks for the workers or whoever they have on site. Finally, tucked behind both and close to one of the walls, is a smaller, squarish building that looks partially submerged in the ground. Maybe that's where she keeps her bugs or something?

There's a few patches of plant between the flowers and such that look akin to cotton and other plants that one might use as material, but they're hardly planted at an industrial scale. Likely for display or personal use, at the most. Ronnie is reminded that Zharris, is in fact some kind of 'Noble' even if Farasi doesn't quite have the same terminology as Equestria, as another Zebra trots towards them as they enter the estate. They're wearing an apron with some dirt smeared on the front, likely in the midst of tending the garden that speckles the yard.

"Welcome back, Miss Zharris." They curtly bow, Zharris returning the gesture.

"Zarina, would you mind getting Zor, Zabra and Zar settled? They've had a long journey, and I'm sure they could use the rest."

"Sister, I don't..." Zabra tries to object, but she only flashes him a knowing smile.

"Zabra, you're still green. Go and rest, you deserve it. I'll take care of things here."

He seems reluctant about it, but considering her description isn't wrong, he relents. Probably putting on a brave face the way he walks slowly and carefully, managing his breath. Zor and Zar are more than happy to trot off, soon leaving Zharris and Ronnie alone in the courtyard, alongside his luggage.

The moment that the others have departed and left them alone, Zharris perks up, turning to Ronnie with a cheeky grin.
"So. How sick was he?"

"Huh?"

"My brother, Zabra. How sick did he get during your journey from Equestria?"

"Uh... well, yeah, he was good for the most part. Barely saw him for the week we were out on the water, though." Ronnie shrugs, though Zharris seems to find this quite amusing.

She snorts, shaking her head.
"Zabra is horrible with seasickness, and is entirely bull-headed about it. I've tried to task him with other... land-orientated duties, but he insists on being the one to handle any and all matters that I can't attend to myself, which included my letter. Speaking of -- sorry I couldn't go get you myself, Ronnie. We've been in the midst of talks with one of the other producers of silk in the region about absorbing their business, and I couldn't justify the multiple-week delay to our negotiations." She explains, standing closely beside him again. "As much as I would have loved to have collected you in-pony."

A playfully unneeded apology, Ronnie smiles down at the striped mare.
"I felt pretty pampered the trip over, so I wouldn't worry about it -- we can call it even, or... something about... how you can make it up to me now that I'm here." Ronnie shrugs, a long sigh escaping him as he leans down to scratch at her back. It's a well-appreciated gesture, and she quickly leans into it.

Though it does little to distract, her keen eyes roaming to his face.
"Glad to hear it, but... are you doing alright?"

Ronnie hadn't quite realized it until now, but his shoulders were feeling pretty heavy.
"Dunno. Sorry, I'm usually better at banter. Think I'm a little too tired."

This garners a sympathetic expression from the Zebra, as she nuzzles against his side, offering comforting words.
"Worry not, you'll find plenty of rest soon. How are you faring in the weather, by the way? Do I need to keep you in the shade?" Ronnie finds a curious hoof poking at his exposed skin, interested in his lack of fur.

Ronnie rubs his arm, reminded he's in more bristley-furred company.
"Uh... yeah, I don't tan that great unless you lather me up in sunscreen. Keep me well-watered and in the shadows, like a plant."

"Such circumstances can be arranged." A content hum from Zharris, who makes no attempt to hide her brimming excitement at his presence, though she doesn't point out which endeavor she'd prefer, choosing to remain playfully coy. Ronnie is kind of surprised he's not matching her excitement, but it's like a wave of exhaustion that culminated over the entire journey has crept up on him, leaving him wanting a quiet, comfortable place to curl up and nap for a bit.

And yet, he can't help but smile at the mare that meets him.
"I appreciate the invitation. And honestly, I'm just happy to see you again. I hope I'm not disappointing you by being... bleh."

She waves away the notion immediately, though his answer seems to please her to no end, the returning smile on her face threatening to stay there for good.
"Please, Ronnie. I'm well aware the tolls that travel has upon the body, and the mind. I've felt exactly the way you've felt many a time, I assure you. Mister Banks was quite excited to hear that I... I suppose the wording would be that I took an interest in somepony, once he found a chance to grill me more about what he walked in on. You know, during our last get-together."

"Oh, I remember all right. That dress has held a firm place in my mind the last few months." Ronnie blatantly admits, the memory having been quite the pleasant thought over their time apart.

"The dress... or the swimsuit?" Zharris counters, throwing her own teasing expression his way.

Ronnie didn't really have an answer for that one.
"...Might need to see you in it again to help jog my memory."

"Hmph." She huffs, bemused at his pointed flirting.
"I suppose I could dig that old thing out... or I could show you the designs I've been working on over the last few months?"

"Any chance I could say both?" Ronnie tries, Zharris giving him a look.

"Maybe. But let's get you to rest first. There's plenty of days ahead." She trots ahead, towards the estate's awaiting door.

"Speaking of... might be a bit of a dumb question, but would you mind hearing it out?" Ronnie brings up, causing Zharris to pause for a moment.

"Of course. What's on your mind, Ronnie?"

The walls of the estate and the plentiful plant life help the place feel a little more private, even if they are just standing out in the open of the courtyard, feet away from the main buildings door. Bit of a dumb question, but he felt like it was something they needed to talk about at some point, considering the oddity of their relationship.
"What... are we, exactly? I just want to make sure we both have the same... expectations. I mean, the interest in each other is as obvious as I'd hope, but our last meeting definitely bordered on... very physically flirtatious, even if it overstepped a boundary or two. So... what are those boundaries? What's the plan?"

Zharris blinks a few times, processing the bluntness of the question. Then a hoof covers her mouth, hiding the chuckle that slips out of her, throwing him a playful look.
"Perhaps not the most graceful approach of the topic, but I can understand your concern. Even when we tried to talk about it last time, we weren't exactly blunt. Not to mention the hassle of sending any letters until now. Well, I certainly didn't have you travel all that way just to... hang out and chat, Ronnie. I fully intend to properly court you, in the ways that are supported by Farasian culture. I quite enjoyed our time together, and I appreciate your consideration for my... unfortunately messy approach to what I thought I wanted that night."

"Huh. Where I'm from, it's usually the guys that handle the courting." Ronnie mumbles, trying to hide the embarrassment on his face. Bit of a difference between hard flirting at a fairly promiscuous party, and being bluntly told that he's about to be pursued.

"We don't have such limitations here. The interested party pursues and courts the one they're interested in. Though, outright staying at one's estate could be considered... bold, I'd hardly have it any other way. Can't have you coming all this way just for a dinner date or the like, just to spend a week trekking back. Zabra would hardly survive such an arrangement." She hums, tilting her head. That look almost seems to be turning cheeky, realizing she might have the opportunity to put him on the back-hoof.
"You are comfortable with the arrangements, are you not? I've taken your choice to respond to my letter with your presence rather than with a returned parchment that you're still interested in what we talked about prior, but I haven't actually checked if you're alright staying... here. With me."

"You did say you were going to keep one of us humans from that party, so I've been prepared for that aspect since you said it. Seems like an illustrious gig, so I think I can put up with things... at least for a time." Ronnie jokes, making his way up the estate steps.

"Unfortunately for you, Mister Harrelson, I've found myself smitten with you following our little meeting. I'm afraid you're securely trapped in my hooved clutches, doomed to a life of affection and pampering." Zharris spins around in front of him, motioning for him to lower himself. Ronnie complies, leaning against his knees -- and Zharris hops up, planting a quick kiss against his face, before bumping the estate door open, leading him through.

"Woe is me. A tragedy for the ages." Ronnie jokes, following her inside.

The inside of the estate is much cooler than the outside, something Zharris explains as what could be best described as a ventilation system through the building, with some kind of cold-chaeged crystal that was imported from the Crystal Empire. Something of a common import, they were readily available and used in many a household to provide relief from the outside heat. Tile floors and pillars provide and fairly grand view to the entryway hall, that splits off in numerous directions with a variety of doors all leading deeper into the bowels of the building. A large staircase sits directly in the middle, it's wide steps meant for hooves as it leads up to the second floor, where a chandelier hangs overhead of it all. Compared to the extravagant over-the-top styling of Mister Banks home, the use of carefully carved sandstone and clay brickwork provides a far different, but fairly cozy aesthetic to work with the decor. Vases and pottery are the primary decoration, though there are several tapestries and carpets that are proudly displayed, while wood is used more as an accent, like with the banisters that line the steps.

"Did you make these? Ronnie tries asking, nodding towards one of the closer, hanging woven displays. It depicts a coastal sunset, a single zebra stood on the edge of the waters as an orange sunlight bathes the entire scene. It'd like a painting, but without brushstrokes.

"Astute eye. Anything one could spin from a wheel or stick or sew, has been made by yours truly." Zharris proudly comments.
"Worry not, my innate pride will gladly show them off to you later. For now, I push down the urges to show off my work and gain your approval so that you might get some rest."

Most of the work, at least from what Ronnie can gleam from a passing glance as Zharris continues to nudge him forward, seems to cover a variety of themes. Landscapes, groups, locations, individuals, buildings. It's genuinely impressive, as if each piece was drawing upon an entirely different source of inspiration. The way she made each of them seems to have some variety, as well. The thickness of the material used, the way it was weaved together, using multiple colors or differing types, or even one where it was all one single color, the only way to figure the picture from the direction that she wove it. Her home was as much a display for her personal works as it was an abode, and every corner or new direction Ronnie looked, there was another piece waiting to be viewed, all set for presentation.

A quick glance at Zharris affirms that while she's trying to do the polite, kind thing and urge him to rest... there's an unmistakable tinge of pride in the way she holds her head, watching him as he observes the culmination of her efforts.

"You're very talented, Zharris. This is..." Ronnie starts, but Zharris shush him.

"Save your words for later, Ronnie. I'm afraid if you start complimenting me now, we'll never make it to your lodgings, and I'll just keep you here to feed my ego with your affirmations." Zharris takes to the stairs, leading him up towards the second floor.
"Most of the first floor is workshops and the like, minus the kitchen. The bedrooms are up here -- and worry not. Yours is quite close to mine, just up the hall. Oh -- and just leave your luggage here, I'll make sure it finds it's way to your room."

Ronnie can't help but laugh quietly to himself, wondering just how long a separated sleeping arrangement was going to last.
"So, whose going to visit who in the middle of the night?"

Something Zharris picks up on quite quickly, throwing him a look over her shoulder. Her face scrunches at him.
"Typically, Farasian couples wait until they are wed to share a bed."

"And yet we..."

"I meant sharing a bed in the carnal sense."

"Ah. I actually meant in the not-so-carnal sense."

"Hm." Zharris pauses, tapping her chin. "Not quite the Farasian way, but... we're already making some alterations to the approach, I suppose."

"And we're not exactly starting at stage one, considering how the day we first met went." Ronnie points out, reminding Zharris of the proximity that they spent their night together.

Zharris' tail flicks.
"... Correct. What are you proposing?"

"My bed is always open if you find yourself having trouble sleeping? I don't want to intrude on your private space, but I certainly wouldn't mind some company to help make the bed feel less empty."

Ronnie is pretty sure she's just trying to play up how much she's actually considering it, the way Zharris' tail swishes around behind her despite her various hmms and hums. Probably something about the polite limits Farasian courting that she's trying to justify breaking.

Their playfulness is interrupted by the only one who yet remains in the pair's presence, awaiting the chance to escape his confines with a dwindling patience

"Meow." Is quietly uttered from the carrier, carrying with surprising echo through the open hall.

"Oh, he's probably hungry." Ronnie notes, glancing into the carrier. A raised paw forewarns that Ronnie might share a similar fate to Zharris' nose if he gets any closer.

"As I'm sure you are, too. I'm excited to show you Farasian cuisine, I believe it's not too distant from Earth foods. I've done a little research. Let'sget you and Mr.Jiggles something quick to eat? You might rest better on a full stomach. I'll have something brought to the room after." Zharris explains, still leading the way.

Taking a right from the top of the stairs, Ronnie notices the windows here are like the ones he saw on the buildings by the docks. Rather than glass, patterned lattice offers both a view, and some protection from the outside sunlight, all while still adding to the fanciful decor. Here, the halls become smaller, as do the decorations, their purpose shifting away from a grand entry display. Lower ceilings, though thankfully still well above Ronnie's head and then some.

She passes a few doors, before they round out at the end of the hall.
"This one is mine -- easy to remember since it's at the end of the hall, here. And this one..." She trots to one of the adjacent doors, bumping it open and standing aside. She outright stares, trying to gauge if he needs to duck when entering. Ronnie does, but not by much.

Ronnie has a bit of a hard time believing this is supposed to be where he's sleeping. The room itself is almost as big as his apartment, and in fact, almost looks just like one. A glance back to Zharris confirms this may have been intentional, as she looks like she's absolutely brimming with excitement, waiting for his reaction.

The room looks like if someone who had only ever been told what an apartment looks like had to put one together. It's adorably sweet that she clearly tried so hard to appease him, even without knowing if he'd come or not, even if she didn't quite hit the mark.

There's a pretty large couch that looks oddly well made right in the middle of the room, but instead of a coffee table facing it, it's an entire dinner table with several chairs. There's no television or TV stand, which tracks considering their lack of that technology. Instead, opposite of the couch, is a little stand with a record player. Probably the best substitution she could figure with what she had on hand. Or on hoof. Opposite of the little living room is a kitchen, without any of the appliances. Or, mostly. There's counters, cupboards, and what looks like a minifridge where one might usually go.

"I figured you might not do too well in this weather, so I wanted to assure you had access to something cold to drink. Just in case." Zharris helpfully adds when she catches his gaze wandering over, adding commentary to his viewing. It's certainly an appreciated gesture, though Ronnie wonders just how much that little number might have costed.

The last part of the room is the only part he'd been expecting, and even that sidesteps his expectations. The bed that occupies the back corner if the room is massive, easily larger than any of Earth's king-sized options. Overkill is the first word that comes to Ronnie's mind, as he sets Mr. Jiggles carrier against the egregiously plush sheets, Ronnie watching his cat slowly sink in like bedsheet-bound quicksand.

"This is..." Ronnie goes to start, realizing that if he laid across the entire thing, all limbs splayed out, he still wouldn't be able to touch any of the edges.
"Think i fell asleep in this thing, I might never make my way out of it."

"I firmly remembered how little room was in the standard Equestrian bed. I wanted to ensure that we wouldn't encounter such an issue." Zharris trots over beside him, eating up his reaction to her little surprise.

"We?" Ronnie parrots, catching Zharris by surprise.

"Ah." Zharris glances away.

"Some-pony has been planning for us to bunk together since the start."

"An unfounded and outrageous accusation, Mister Harrelson."

"If we go to your room and I find that this bed is better than yours..."

Zharris bites her lip, not gracing the accusation with an answer -- which Ronnie finds to be plenty an answer on it's own.

"Still, pretty amazing." Ronnie muses, trying not to bring up how it's almost certain that all of this cost Zharris a pretty penny. Seems she's the type to show affection through gift-giving.
"All this for little old me?"

"A welcoming gift, and the results of my desire to assure you're as comfortable as you can be. You've crossed a world for... well, me. I only hope to match that dedication." Zharris explains, stepping closer to Ronnie, looking up at him.

"I think being pampered at a pretty mare's house hardly counts as something worth this degree of pampering." Ronnie sits in the edge of the bed, sinking down closer to Zharris' level.

"Well, I firmly disagree." She retorts, the fur of her chest ruffling as she presses herself against Ronnie's knees, closing the distance completely.

"You just want a trophy boyfriend, don't you?" Ronnie prods, leaning closer.

"And I thought you said you were too tired for banter." Her ear flicks, head tilted up to stare at his face as he closes in.

"I'd hate to disappoint after all you've done for me."

The two lean closer and closer, a soft flush appearing on each of their cheeks as they're but inches away from the other. Ronnie has forgotten just how exotically alluring this Zebra was, how she stole his gaze even when she was dressed for comfort. Her gaze softens, eyes half closed as their lips approach --

"Mrrow." An expectant, interrupting noise from the carrier, making them both flinch and interrupting the pair.

"Right, food." Zharris quickly recovers, taking a step back.
"Get settled, I'll be back with something for you two to eat. And leave your luggage to me, alright?"

"You sure? I don't mind --"

"Ah-ah. Sit and shush. You're mine now, Ronnie. Let me." Zharris cuts him off, tsking and waving a hoof. In the same moment, she's slipping out the door, leaving Ronnie to listen to the sounds of her hooves against the distant halls.

... This bed was seriously comfortable. Should probably let Mr. Jiggles out to explore and stretch his legs, though.

...

Zharris returns a short while later, the same Zebra that had been wearing the dirt-covered apron lugging the last bag of Ronnie's belongings to his door, while Zharris carefully carries a small covered tray, supported by small ropes on each corner that she hangs onto their connecting piece with her mouth.

"Thank you, Zarina." Zharris thanks them setting the tray down for the moment. The other Zebra departs, while Zharris opens the door into Ronnie's room, nudging it open with a leg, grabbing the tray again.

"Ronnie? I had them make something that I think you'll... Ronnie? Oh--" She pauses in the doorway.

Ronnie is laid out across the bed, one arm behind his head, snoring softly. A freed Mr. Jiggles is curled up on one of the pillows, tail swishing about. When Zharris appears, Mr. Jiggles promptly hops off the bed, strutting over and staring up at her, licking his lips.

Zharris, as quiet as she can, sets aside a little bowl that Mr. Jiggles promptly ravages. She closes the door behind herself, setting the tray aside on the psuedo-kitchen's counters, before standing at the side of the bed, watching him.

As Ronnie remains asleep, Zharris watching the rising and falling of his chest, there's a not-so-quiet endeavor from the striped mare. The bed creaks ever so slightly as she climbs up and onto the mattress beside Ronnie, doing her best not to disturb him as she gets settled at his side. She seems to be contemplating something under her breath, fidgeting in the sheets.

Ronnie, not quite asleep yet and drawn from slipping away by the shifting of the oversized bed, stirs slightly. It's all speculation thanks to his firmly-shut eyes, but Ronnie has the feeling she might be up to something.

And sure enough, her mumbled machinations rear their head as she makes her move. Ronnie can feel her shuffle across the mattress towards him...

...And the odd sensation of a hoof gently pressing against his forehead, sliding back through his hair.

"I... think this is how he does it." Ronnie can hear Zharris mutters to herself -- cracking open an eye ever so slightly reveals a confounded, but persistent Zharris that sits hunched over him. One of her hooves slowly attempts to 'pet' him, while the other hangs in the air, not quite sure what to do with it. It's not like the concept is foreign to them, but it's hard to match the way that Ronnie had petted her.

"Mm." Ronnie hums, reaching out with both arms. A startled Zharris can hardly make a noise, as Ronnie pulls her in closely against himself, hugging her tightly against his chest.

"Oof--Ronnie?!" Zharris squeaks, glancing about. She's held tightly against him, as Ronnie curls around her, nestling in against the blankets. With how warm it is outside, and how cool it is inside, it's the perfect equilibrium for a nap atop the blankets.

She prods whatever part of him she can reach with her restrained hooves, harshly whispering his name.
"Ronnie. Ronnie?"

Eventually realizing that either Ronnie is actually asleep and isn't waking up anytime soon, or he's not going to respond nor release her, Zharris resigns herself to remaining firmly and comfortably stuck. She's glad she spent big on the better bed. Relegating herself to the position she's found herself in entirely of her own construction, Zharris settles in, deciding to get a head start on the bonuses of keeping a human around. She'd forgotten just how warm he is, and before long, she's latched onto him tighter than he is to her, sighing contently.

Mr. Jiggles watches judgingly from the pillow, before helping himself to the rest of the ignored tray.