Octavia felt a rush of cold air nip at her fur, and immediately didn’t want to be outside. It wasn’t that she regretted her decision to have this talk, it’s just that she wasn’t much of a cold-weather pony. Octavia much preferred the heat of the summer; the warm breeze caressing her frame. A wistful sigh escaped her lips as she locked eyes with Lyra, who looked much the same of a child who had just gotten caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She wondered what she walked in on.
“Hi.” Lyra muttered, trying to act as pathetic as possible.
“Hello Lyra. I understand you wish to speak with me.”
“I… yeah. I guess there’s some things we need to talk about.”
“Oh? Are there now?” Octavia could near the sniffles in Lyra’s words and she wasn’t buying any of it.
“I… well, yes.” Lyra stuttered.
“Well, then, let us hear it. I would not want to take too much of your time.&