You’ve never really felt the need to be sexist but at this point, you feel like it’s entirely appropriate. Damn woman. Closing your eyes as the chaos all stops, you take a deep breath and try to settle your mind from its panic. It’s been so long since you’ve been high- really high, from your actual plants instead of your magic- that you might have over indulged a little. Truth be told, you don’t really mind, but it’s so much easier to be mentally incapacitated when you don’t have to deal with everyone else around. Only Snowflake understands. Only the woman you told that you love, that you told you would never leave, knows how to soothe your blackened soul when you are in a state as you are now. Only that beautiful white pegasus can break through your hardened exterior, find the good amongst the evil, and love you for who you are. She does not ask you to change, she does not demand that you act differently, she does not insist that you change your ways. She is only there as a friend, as a lover, as a companion. And so, as you sit there on the muddy ground with your eyes closed to the world, it is only she that you see in your mind.

Until somebody starts talking again.

Slowly dragging your eyes open, as though they are the heaviest thing you have ever tried to move, you look through hazy eyes at the scarred mare (though the scars are a detail that you can hardly notice right now). Done what? Do you really need to explain it to her? You consider calling her an imbecile for the moment, degrading her and then walking away from… well… wherever it is that you are, but she keeps hissing, keeps drawling, and you don’t even have time to get a word in before that ‘somebody else’ shows up. Do you recognize her? Vaguely, but you don’t know why and you don’t bother to try and figure it out. Your companion attempts to send you a few images, to jog your memory, but she has as much time invading your mind as you have seeing when you are so high. So, frustrated, she just flits about above your head, a nearly-invisible black wisp trying her hardest to break through the drugs.

At any rate, she interrupts your companion’s attempts at communication with her voice anyways, and you sigh dramatically. “That was me keeping my word,” you snap back, your voice kind of slow and slurred as you bob your head about. “I was tired of all the damn butterflies.” Well that’s a really thorough explanation, but apparently you’re not prepared to offer a better one, because you fall to silence, letting your eyelids droop closed again. Enough of all this noise. You’re just tired. “Which way to the Falls?” you ask them then in a calmer tone. You went to the beach, and it was nice and all, but now you think you just want to go home. Hopefully you can find Snowflake there… Maybe even without Thing 1 and 2.

Oxy