The inner machinations of the small wooden mill were silent as a lone pegasus mare approached the front doorway, rapping her hoof against it a few times. The sounds of the small river which drove the large creaking wheel on the far side filled the air, before another set of hooves could be heard from inside, approaching the door. It creaked open to reveal the owner and sole resident of the mill, a stark-white coated stallion, a pair of glasses resting across his muzzle. The pegasus let loose a quiet sigh as she watched him examine her for a moment, a smirk crossing his face.
 
“Heh, Angel, fancy seeing you here again. Was I really that good you came by for seconds?” Leaning in the doorway, the stallion let off a light chuckle to himself, not quite yet noticing the daggers glaring back at him. He blunk a few times as he finally looked up, setting all his hooves on the floor and leaning back, wearing a weak grin. “Eheh, sorry.”
 
The pegasus stood there for a moment longer, before lifting one of her own forehooves to her head and drawing in a long breath. She let it out in a sigh, looking back up to the stallion in the doorway. “How many times… it’s Night Strike, and not even close. See, I was thinking, I’ve got this friend, and considering how… wonderful a time I had being turned into a hot air balloon for your amusement, I figured you might like to meet them.”
 
“Oh, so it was good for you after all, huh?” Parchment Bleach wore a smirk as Night Strike turned about, freezing in her tracks as his latest quip caught her ears. She clenched her teeth tight, her forehooves stomping against the ground for a few moments before she stopped herself abruptly, drawing in a breath and letting it loose in another sigh. The stallion behind her seemed to start to take the hint. “Hey, hey, uh… look… I… I admit, I might’ve gone a little… okay, pretty overboard when I was helping you, and I’m sorry for that. Just, um… yeah…” Parchment let loose a weak chuckle, rubbing a hoof at the back of his neck. “Uh, so, who’s this friend, then?”
 
Night Strike looked back at him for only a moment, before letting loose another sigh, her shoulders dropping and wings spreading. “Just wait here, I’ll go get them.” With a heavy flap, the pegasus took to the sky, turning off to the right and disappearing down the road. Parchment trotted out of his mill a short ways, following behind to try and watch where she was heading to - and get another quick glimpse of her rear. As he reached the dirt lot beside his workplace and home, however, both his attempts had failed, and he finally came to a stop, silently letting off a disappointed sigh.
 
Not a moment later as he still was looking down the road, an odd, distinct thump echoed from one of the bushes, and suddenly he found his vision going very white with a sort of metallic orange tint, before finding himself staring up at the sky, quite surprised and confused. Though muffled, he could just about make out the sound of a mare’s laughter, Night Strike trotting over to inspect her handiwork. “Parchment Bleach, meet Sergeant Thumper. Thumper, Parchment Bleach. I’d say you two are getting along well…”
 
Parchment’s forehooves pressed and prodded against his severely swollen head, his confused brain only becoming moreso by the moment as he found himself balancing on one of his back hooves. Night Strike only let off another small chuckle, stepping a little closer. “Trust me, you’ll be fine, it was a low-yield one, it’ll wear off in a couple hours or so and your heavy flanks ought to be enough to keep you grounded. Let’s just say I consider us~~”
 
There was a small clink as the pegasus trotted around the unlucky earth pony, her eyes being brought down to see a pair of glasses laying in the grass under her hooves. She took a step back before picking them up, looking back towards the swollen head of Parchment Bleach. Thinking for a moment, she let off a soft, lighter sigh, slipping his glasses into her jacket’s pocket and heading back up to one of his swollen ears. “I’ll put your glasses on a table inside for you, you’ve got plenty to deal with as it is. As I was saying, I’d say now we’re pretty much even.”
 
Parchment’s confused poking seemed to slow as she talked, the stallion lazily bobbing in the slight breeze from the river. While she couldn’t know for sure, Night Strike felt that he did manage to hear that part, at least. She took a few steps away, the still-smoking barrel of her grenade rifle resting on her shoulder, before looking back with a smirk on her muzzle. “Oh, and, apology accepted, by the way.”
 
–~~
 
Just a lil’ something for pablote, because Night Strike is a mare who makes good on her promises.