Bon Bon left the hospital room after wrangling a promise from Lyra to come home for lunch.  The unicorn sat back on the chair and turned her attention back to Dale, who had been fixed in his awkward position on the chair for nearly an hour.  His few movements had been slowing until they stopped entirely.  If it hadn’t been for the slow rise and fall of his chest, Lyra might have thought he had died.  She knew that sometimes a pony would freeze when threatened, but she had never heard of one slowly grinding to a halt as Dale had.  A couple of times, she’d approached him, once nuzzling him in the side, but he made no sign that he’d noticed.  Speaking to him had not worked, either—she’d even stood in front of him, but his focus never shifted.