Star Shimmer rested her chin on the pane of one of the large castle windows. She didn’t like the rain. She never did. Her father loved it, but he was a pegasus. He was supposed to like it. She on the other hoof had never cared for the stuff. It made everything mushy and humid and miserable. ‘Although’, she conceded to herself as she admired the cathedral of thunderheads. ‘I suppose nopony can say it isn’t pretty in its own way.’