The bed's top blanket had a wet spot from where she'd buried her face, but it was probably dry underneath. Across from the bed, on the writing desk, she spied a hairbrush. Leaning over without losing her distressed specialist, she snagged the hairbrush and slipped her hoof into its strap. From there it was a matter of slowly maneuvering Sparkshower over so that she could whip back the covers and hop up to sit on the bed, before gently transferring the care of her head from Honour's shoulder to her lap.