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>two hours later, greens body finally started to tighten up into wakedness
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>her brain finally turning on to awake mode and staying there after 6 rounds of succumbing to goopy sleep
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>acting like a shipwreck survivor, green brought her front hooves in and pushed her torso up off the mattress like it was sand on the beach
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>the muscles in her hips and back legs activating in a nice long wave as she pinched her shoulder blades together and flexed her rump cheeks and hamstrings as hard as she could
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>as the nerves in her legs woke up, she felt it
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>under the brace, under the tight rubber sleeve and under her skin
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>two little bumps on the outside of her right knee, tightly pressed under her kneecap against the bone
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>and if she flexed her quadricep very carefully against the metal bar
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>the two bumps moved together and apart ever so slightly, if only a couple millimeters
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>her acl on the other side stretching and contracting loosely like a rubber band
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>all of this having been buried under a round, angry swollen mass for the past 3 days
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>yeah, shit's fucked
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>green flopped her torso back into the fluffy bed, exasperated
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>heartrate accelerated from her morning stretch
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>in her ranking of 'comfiest things ever slept on,' this was second or third to what always reigns supreme to a pegasus:
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>a cloud.
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>that second spot reserved for a mare who she loves very much
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>'get the lead out Puck, lets go!' echoed in her head like it has since she was a lazy teenager
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>this was gonna be a process
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>her crutches were propped against the little bedstand, shining like an object dropped by an RPG enemy
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>green dug her hooves in and slithered over to the cold, uncharted territory to her left
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>braced leg dragging behind her, until about a foot from the edge
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>then, with her left hoof, reached as hard and far as she could
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>trying to summon her nonexistant unicorn magic with a deep scrunch of her face
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>just... one... more... inch.. please...
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>the crutches didnt budge even with 200% concentration
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>she was gonna have to heave the rest of her body for that extra inch
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>so with her left hoof still out inadvertently, green shimmied her back hips forward another foot
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>immediately getting startled by the feeling of aluminum tapping her hoof
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>and all she could do was helplessly watch as her crutches tilted away from her to the floor
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>CLANG. CLCLCLAaaaang.
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>green jammed her snoot into the pillow and let out an angry mare noise
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>"'TIA DAMNIT!!!" she screamed out to nopony, muffled
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>fucking mondays
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>time for plan B
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>the feet were too far and too low to the ground to reach from greens comfy cacoon
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>which means it was time to walk like a tripod
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>green rolled herself onto her belly, as if to stand, folded her left leg in and started to push up
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>slowly, her hips rose, her chest followed, and her long, black wings fanned out to her sides
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>and with a couple flaps, she was airborne in a lopsided hover
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>any more than a foot off the ground and the anchor would drag her down
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>ok, part 2...
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>green very carefully flew forward, paying close attention to when the bed fell away from her right hoofnail
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>and immediately after, flapped as hard as she could to slow her descent and prevent herself from plunging hip-first onto the wood floor
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>and again, the second her hoof touched the floor and took some weight off, imparted some forward motion toward her fallen crutches
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>closer... closer... almost there...
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>aaaaaand theres one... theres two...
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>swap hooves, rotate, under the shoulder, land.
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>"WHOOOF!"
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>and so concluded green's morning workout, which earned her some breakfast
-
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>not a noise single creak or noise echoed through the house, the lack of another snowpity making it feel vacuous
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>celestia's sunlight shone through two huge glass windows and cast the reading room in a brilliant white
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>it was the first time green got a good look at this room in broad daylight
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>not even knowing there were giant windows behind the thick, red velvet curtains
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>there was a concrete slab out there, were they doors?
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>behind Green's other cozy cacoon was a U-shaped extension with bookshelves 10-20 hooves high, jam packed with books
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>a few in various states of open in closed on a table in the middle of the section
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>along with some sciencey tools, scratch paper, pencils and pens
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>cast in a dark shadow which made it look off limits compared to the hangout spot
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>and before green was the heart and soul of Morning Glory's house: the hangout spot.
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>what a couple chairs, sorry: ~loveseats~, a very comfy ~ottoman~, a little knee-height ~coffee table~, and an inactive fireplace makes of a room
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>green's 3-high pyramid of Core's Banquet cans still standing 2 hooves from where she got mushily teased by two mares 12 hours ago
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>next to it, a fancy bordered sheet of paper with some blue hoofwriting
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>oh fuck, it's in cursive
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>and written by a doctor
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>'giil... geel... GOOD. good. nir... nirnng... norning? MORNING, fuck!'
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>'Good morning Green FN~ (cute heart)'
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>"I hope you're feeling well, I made you some breakfast in the fridge, I think you'll love it.~ There's some ibuprofen out for you too in case your knee starts hurting, get comfy and make yourself at home. I'll come by for a bit at lunchtime in case you need anything (winky face - green's mind went straight to the feeling of her chest floof). In the meantime, feel free to go outside on the porch, today's a lovely day.
-
-
See you soon~
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-Morning Glory (heart)
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(P.S. I like your little cider can pyramids, but please pick them up when we're done for the night [heart next to winky face])"
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>whoops.
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>green grabbed the topmost can in her mouth as she continued crutching into the kitchen
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>sticking a rubber foot on the trash can pedal and dumping the can in stride
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>continuing over, green popped open the fridge
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>what greeted her was a big ass seran-wrapped pot of oatmeal
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>thick apple slices poking out and creating a textured surface
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>my celestia, it's been a decade since she's had this
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>while cold now, green couldnt help herself but get a small nibble before she turned the stove on to heat it up
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>she lapped up the tiniest piece, rich in honeycrisp apple, cinammon and brown sugar
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>ratatouillechildhoodflashback.gif
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>there was a very rich taste behind the oats, one that sent green straight back to a rare crisp winter morning in the skies above florita
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>she made it with buttermilk.
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>it's the details, mare.
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