The colt had moved, but not by much. He stood nearby Luna's desk, examining it at a respectful distance with a careful eye. Though it huddled away, letting the tapestries and beautifully complex charts of the night sky take the stage, the desk was as much an artifact and work of art as anything else in the room. Hoof-carved greatwood, embossed with glittering starmetal and inscribed with runes for longevity. It was one of the few things of Luna's that had survived her long exile. 