”Oh, I can, now? And if your little plan didn’t work? If you died here-” She punctuates it with a stamp of a hoof- ”where would that leave the three of us, who’d spent so much caring for you? You’ve seen my own nightmare, Anon. I thought you’d be more sensitive than encouraging it to become a reality!” She has to put more force into the words to make them sound angry. Her wrath had burned out halfway through the diatribe. It’s just sorrow left now; you can hear as much, and see it in her ever-honest eyes as they tear up.