>two hours later, greens body finally started to tighten up into wakedness
>her brain finally turning on to awake mode and staying there after 6 rounds of succumbing to goopy sleep
>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
>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
>as the nerves in her legs woke up, she felt it
>under the brace, under the tight rubber sleeve and under her skin
>two little bumps on the outside of her right knee, tightly pressed under her kneecap against the bone
>and if she flexed her quadricep very carefully against the metal bar
>the two bumps moved together and apart ever so slightly, if only a couple millimeters
>her acl on the other side stretching and contracting loosely like a rubber band
>all of this having been buried under a round, angry swollen mass for the past 3 days 
>yeah, shit's fucked
>green flopped her torso back into the fluffy bed, exasperated
>heartrate accelerated from her morning stretch
>in her ranking of 'comfiest things ever slept on,' this was second or third to what always reigns supreme to a pegasus:
>a cloud.
>that second spot reserved for a mare who she loves very much
>'get the lead out Puck, lets go!' echoed in her head like it has since she was a lazy teenager
>this was gonna be a process

>her crutches were propped against the little bedstand, shining like an object dropped by an RPG enemy
>green dug her hooves in and slithered over to the cold, uncharted territory to her left
>braced leg dragging behind her, until about a foot from the edge
>then, with her left hoof, reached as hard and far as she could
>trying to summon her nonexistant unicorn magic with a deep scrunch of her face
>just... one... more... inch.. please...
>the crutches didnt budge even with 200% concentration
>she was gonna have to heave the rest of her body for that extra inch
>so with her left hoof still out inadvertently, green shimmied her back hips forward another foot
>immediately getting startled by the feeling of aluminum tapping her hoof
>and all she could do was helplessly watch as her crutches tilted away from her to the floor
>CLANG. CLCLCLAaaaang.
>green jammed her snoot into the pillow and let out an angry mare noise
>"'TIA DAMNIT!!!" she screamed out to nopony, muffled
>fucking mondays
>time for plan B
>the feet were too far and too low to the ground to reach from greens comfy cacoon
>which means it was time to walk like a tripod
>green rolled herself onto her belly, as if to stand, folded her left leg in and started to push up
>slowly, her hips rose, her chest followed, and her long, black wings fanned out to her sides
>and with a couple flaps, she was airborne in a lopsided hover
>any more than a foot off the ground and the anchor would drag her down
>ok, part 2...
>green very carefully flew forward, paying close attention to when the bed fell away from her right hoofnail
>and immediately after, flapped as hard as she could to slow her descent and prevent herself from plunging hip-first onto the wood floor
>and again, the second her hoof touched the floor and took some weight off, imparted some forward motion toward her fallen crutches
>closer... closer... almost there...
>aaaaaand theres one... theres two...
>swap hooves, rotate, under the shoulder, land.
>"WHOOOF!"
>and so concluded green's morning workout, which earned her some breakfast

>not a noise single creak or noise echoed through the house, the lack of another snowpity making it feel vacuous
>celestia's sunlight shone through two huge glass windows and cast the reading room in a brilliant white
>it was the first time green got a good look at this room in broad daylight
>not even knowing there were giant windows behind the thick, red velvet curtains
>there was a concrete slab out there, were they doors?
>behind Green's other cozy cacoon was a U-shaped extension with bookshelves 10-20 hooves high, jam packed with books
>a few in various states of open in closed on a table in the middle of the section
>along with some sciencey tools, scratch paper, pencils and pens
>cast in a dark shadow which made it look off limits compared to the hangout spot
>and before green was the heart and soul of Morning Glory's house: the hangout spot.
>what a couple chairs, sorry: ~loveseats~, a very comfy ~ottoman~, a little knee-height ~coffee table~, and an inactive fireplace makes of a room
>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
>next to it, a fancy bordered sheet of paper with some blue hoofwriting
>oh fuck, it's in cursive
>and written by a doctor

>'giil... geel... GOOD. good. nir... nirnng... norning? MORNING, fuck!'
>'Good morning Green FN~ (cute heart)'
>"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~
-Morning Glory (heart)

(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])"
>whoops.
>green grabbed the topmost can in her mouth as she continued crutching into the kitchen
>sticking a rubber foot on the trash can pedal and dumping the can in stride
>continuing over, green popped open the fridge
>what greeted her was a big ass seran-wrapped pot of oatmeal
>thick apple slices poking out and creating a textured surface
>my celestia, it's been a decade since she's had this
>while cold now, green couldnt help herself but get a small nibble before she turned the stove on to heat it up
>she lapped up the tiniest piece, rich in honeycrisp apple, cinammon and brown sugar
>ratatouillechildhoodflashback.gif
>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
>she made it with buttermilk.
>it's the details, mare.