>Her mirroredd aviators take in the distressed look of all the other fillies before she hops off and pulls up a small brief case that she was sitting on.
>You amble over to her as she strolls up with the handle of her case in her mouth.
“It was horrible…” you manage out through you waning adrenaline rush.
>She turns her gaze to you but you can’t make out what she might be thinking through her shades.
“Somepo-”
>You stop as one of her eyebrows become visible over a lense.
“Sorry.”
>She motions for you to get on with it.