Luna's lambent turquoise depths remain utterly focused upon you, and her ears cant forward in that distinctive listening posture. The alicorn's muzzle remains slightly parted as if to better taste the very ether between you two for the faintest whispers of illumination. Even now, ageless eons removed from your salad days of courtship, you cannot help but feel a nostalgic pang at how utterly transfixed she grows when indulging her thirst for knowledge.