Cook nodded with apparent calm. "Yes. I doubt there's a pony aboard who isn't feeling at least an echo of that sentiment, though most of them probably don't have such personal connections. The ones who do . . . Fancy Pants, certainly. Fleur, probably. Dame Galea, perhaps. Ms. Brass and I, to some extent. Even we didn't grow up with Celestia in our lives as you did." He tucked the rough-and-ready meal between the cot's edge and the outermost blanket. "But you really do need to eat now. And drink."