Food had turned out to be a mistake. Maybe it was something on the menu, or perhaps her guts had been planning on acting up all day. At this point, with her overstuffed stomach weighing her down, tearing open her lovely new dress, and cramping horribly, Rook cared little for the reason. Thick, hot, damp air came churning upward, forcing her lips apart in loud, abrupt belches as her insides tried to make room so the urge would die down. Another few seconds of cramps and she felt her legs buckle underneath her, sending her to the floor and squashing a fair portion of the pegasus’ overtaxed stomach underneath her body. The pain was accompanied by the sudden, forceful output of pressure from the other end. She groaned for help in between gassy outbursts, clutching at her stomach with one hand while trying to push herself up with the other. If she didn’t find a bathroom soon, the air would be the only thing dirtied up.