The couch was not really designed for two sleeping ponies, Rarity decided.

She was already awake and had been for some time. The first hint of sunlight spilling through the Carousel’s windows had always been enough to rouse her in the morning, and years later the habit was still impossible for her to escape. Even sleeping on the couch, something she had never done when she lived here, the urge to wake and rise with the sun felt so deeply ingrained that it might have dwelled within her very bones.

The couch in question was crowded with her and Rainbow Dash. The pegasus was like a cat, Rarity decided – she expanded to fill the space available to her. Managing to squeeze onto it herself had been an adventure.

But worth it. Dash’s wing was like the world’s softest blanket, its hollow bones humming in time with her pulse and as warm as a breath against Rarity’s coat. A soft, living blanket that cupped her close against Dash’s not-at-all soft side.

Dash’s face seemed almost childlike. The pride, the cockiness, the aggression, the pain, it all fled while she slept. Wisps of her garish mane fell in all directions, occasionally lifting away as Dash’s breath caught and tossed them. The strands were longer than Rarity remembered – either Dash had stopped caring, or she was experimenting with new styles.

Rarity let out a quiet breath and froze as Dash stirred against her side. The wing flexed, and for a moment Dash’s magenta eyes cracked open. She mumbled something, seemed to smile, and then settled back to sleep.