"...Thou always has the oddest dreams." I hear whispered beside me. I blink, using a hand to adjust my helmet as I follow the sound. Past my gunners legs, amusingly geared in a somewhat surprisingly accurate depiction of my uniform, instead of my fellow backseat buddy, is the Princess of the Moon. Her horn sticks out of a hole in the front of the helmet, Mane seeping out from the bottom. She's looking over everything with curiosity. Usually, when I see her in person, she's tired... muted. The odd time I see her in my dreams, she's in her element. Which, for my dreams, includes a healthy scoop of nosiness.