“My mom.” Dust let her go. “When I was smaller than you… lots smaller… she used to sing it to me. It was the last thing I remember her doing, before…” She shook her head. “I’ve asked musicians to play it for me before, but nopony knows it. I couldn’t tell them what it was called.” She sat back on her haunches, laughing. “Ponies always say cutie marks are destiny. Maybe they’re right.”