The thud of the door was like the low rumble of thunder. Barely noticeable, but with warning of things to come.

Starlight clutched her quilt close, her eyes tracing the crooked lines of her little bedroom's wooden ceiling. It was the same boring ceiling, but it felt even more so now. Sunburst would have pointed out images in the cracks and lines. His happy voice echoed in her ears, whispering in the dark, trying to make her smile. Only a phantom, a longing need. Accompanying it, a wretched feeling that made her want to lash out. Lash out at Celestia, for taking him away to her school. Lash out at his parents, for letting him apply. Lash out at the headmaster, for not letting her follow. Lash out at Sunburst for forgetting her.

Just lash out.

Her gaze drifted through her closed window. Through the glass she could see the bright face of the moon, upon which was painted the great Mare. Starlight had never thought much about the Mare in the Moon. Was she lonely up there? Did she spend all her years watching little fillies and wishing they would be her friend? She loomed like a specter, her dark gaze scouring the mountains and fields. So few ponies looked back. None that Starlight knew. Maybe all she needed was one pony to care. If Starlight cared, would they both be happy again?

"Are you all alone?" Would the great Mare even hear her quiet voice? The headmaster was next door. Starlight would just have to trust in hope. "I'm alone too. Would you be my friend?"

The Mare stared at her through the dark blackness of the night, but spoke not a word. Starlight watched. Waited. Listened. Maybe it would take time. Maybe the Mare wouldn't hear her question until tomorrow. The moon was far away. That had to be it. It wasn't because the Mare didn't care. She wasn't insignificant. Tiny, like a little pea in a great big field of clover. That wasn't her. The Mare would hear.

So she stared up at the moon, fighting the flippy-floppy antics of her belly and the feeling of smallness.

[hr]

The vast clover field stretched beyond a horizon clearly visible even in the all-swallowing dark. Starlight turned a circle, trying to make anything out. Nothing but clover and black. She called for Sunburst. For the headmaster. For anypony. The shadows sucked up her voice, every word making her feel more and more empty. She stopped speaking, fearful of losing anymore of... of whatever was being taken from her. She sank to her knees in the clover and trembled.

If only she could see Sunburst again. If only she wasn't so small. Why did he have to be different? She didn't want to be alone! Maybe if she walked...

She couldn't. Her heart felt so heavy. Even standing proved impossible. So she rested her chin and sobbed in the dark, alone and miserable.

The clover tickled her muzzle. Forcing her eyes open, she watched as the field waved like an emerald sea. A chill wind struck, brushed across her withers, toyed with her mane. A gasp left her, rising into the night sky as steam. It was indeed a night sky now, adorned with sparkling stars like a million fireflies on a cold winter evening.

Across the fields, the gentlest of sounds came to her. A faint humming, peaceful and slow, to a tune she didn't know. It caressed her ears, an ancient but soothing music that lifted the weight from her heart and let her breathe easy. As the chill crept along her back, the world grew steadily brighter.

Her legs at last obeyed. She stood and turned around, her motions guided by that cold wind. The moon arose, taking up the distant horizon with its splendorous size. The great Mare gazed upon her, imposing and majestic. The humming went on, faint yet all-encompassing.

Starlight didn't feel so small anymore.

[hr]

Starlight awoke, still nestled in her quilt. Confusion and loss filled her as she examined her dark room, but she saw and heard nothing. Yet, when her eyes met those of the Mare through her open window, she smiled. Turning over, she snuggled into her pillow and whispered a quiet thanks.

Time passed. Shadows grew.

A cold wind brushed the locks from the slumbering filly's face.

If one listened hard enough, if one desired to know, one might have heard a soft humming on the breeze.