“Well, I’m sure we can make something work. We could just make reservations at a private resort. There’s a few up north past Manehattan in the mountains we can do.” She giggled, giddily stamping her hooves onto the cushions of her seat—another thing ponies did when they were excited, you noticed. “Oh, we should go to a resort! It’ll be nice, quiet, relaxing, plenty of great sights, foods to eat, and they cater to griffons, too! Maybe you can finally eat something you like.”