She found a replacement robe hanging for her along with the rest of their clothes, smelling like it had been washed while she slept. Probably some grateful pony did this all by hoof. I don’t deserve them. But she put it on anyway, slipping out and down the stairs. All of Twilight’s many guestrooms and conference areas were packed with ponies, at least the ones that hadn’t been filled with barrels of supplies. Apple farm brands on all those barrels. Did Applejack get a message back here?