“Fine.” Amanita ran a hoof through her mane. “I… Long story short, when I was not much younger, I had a marefriend. Let’s call her Lily. She got sick. Magic only delayed the inevitable. She died. I… wasn’t the best at accepting the consequences. And then Circe found me and took me in. She brought me up north and taught me necromancy, mostly how I could whistle up Lily’s spirit from beyond death any time I wanted. Yes, Circe was doing some… violent, depraved things, but I ignored them. They didn’t matter. Lily mattered. I had her. And I was happy.”