The cold air was frozen in crystalline silence. It was always cold in the Heavenly Embassy, so far from the ground below— but it was particularly pronounced today. Sable was hesitant to even walk, hyper-aware of her hooves echoing down the quiet street. The sound seemed eager to shatter the quiet air and dance upon its fragments; she tried to muffle them with slower footsteps, though without much success. Churro, however, seemed entirely unbothered. He waddled...
