You finally open your eyes. Twilight’s head is only a foot and a half away from yours, dozing just as peacefully as you so recently were. One of her wings is draped over your shoulder, the other fallen to the floor beside the chair she’d moved over to you to rest on. On the table on front of you two is a smallish bag and several sheets of paper you don’t remember being there last night. On those pages are many diagrams with labels and calculations in Twilight’s writing. She did all this while you were asleep?