For the briefest moment you forget why you’re not following her. You can’t ruin her surprise...even though you miss her already. The silence is filled with your thoughts; about the trip, about Dash, and about the marked increase in her affectionate behaviors. You drag your hand along the damp hot spot she left. Tiny cyan hairs stand out against the white fabric. She’s never lost this much before...maybe her winter coat is coming in? Is that a thing with ponies?