There are many ways to store a pony, but it’s one method in particular that catches Clipped Wing’s eye as he’s led through those corridors of gleaming latex, his hooves sinking into the creaking padding with every step. Embedded in the wall, the forms of feminine equines can be made out, straining against the coat-tight layer of rubber clinging to their bodies. Their identities only to be guessed at within their cocoons. As Commandant Whip’s course brings him past the squirming pair, he could swear that he heard a steady whirring from within their depths…