The bedroom didn’t even have a door. But it had James’s possessions, what little she’d brought. It would have to be enough. “This is your room,” Dust said as she finished the tour, though she was never quite sure how much the pony could really understand. “I don’t know what you’re used to, but I’ve got rules here. No skipping flying lessons, no making holes in my house, and no complaining about what I feed you so long as I eat it with you.” She gestured at the room with one wing. “So long as you can do all of that, I think we’ll get along just fine.”