A breeze of cold air left her nose with every forced exhale as it met the met the grayish mulberry and light grayish mane of Sweetie. In response to the air being blown through her mane, the filly only stirred a little bit but didn't moved out of her sleep. "Goodnight, my prey," mumbled Rarity in a kind and pleasant tone while one of her forehooves made its way over to the neck of her sister. She wanted to stroke it in a sisterly manner do dearly.