                Canterlot Station, like all hallmarks of pony architecture, was a construct of marble and glass with that classical roundness dominating every facet, as if every feature had to somehow pay homage to SunButt's rotund flanks. Willow flapped her little wings and soared up the steps up to the station alongside me. She suddenly froze in midair, as if stunned. Before I could ask her what was wrong, I crested the steps and reached the station's foyer to see for myself just what...