"Moondancer?! You alive in there?"
>Your usually projecting voice is devoured by towers of books, binders and folders that stand like weary sentries around the room.
>A roll of the eyes and you take a step inside.
>This sorry state of affairs wasn't uncommon to the studious mare; she worked hard and usually hadn't the time to put things away.
>What ticked you off was that you had helped her organize her room only the day before.
>As you walked past a coffee table beleaguered by take out boxes and soda bottles, you could not help grit your teeth in irritation.
>And yet you had to admit her penchant for squalor was impressive.
>You call out again with some annoyed sarcasm.
"Is anyone alive out there!? Can anybody hear me?!"
>You have expected to hear a whistle from among the toppling stacks of literature, signalling for rescue.
>Instead, you heard a voice.
>"Not now, Anon, I'm busy!"
>Ignoring the protest, you followed the voice through a corridor of manuscripts and tattered scrolls.
>Your erudite friend sat, brows furrowed in concentration and frustration, behind her desk.
"Moondancer, what the hell is all of this?"
>"I thought I said I was busy."
"Dance, we just cleaned up your room YESTERDAY! Come on!"
>"I know! And now it is dirty TODAY! It happens! Now leave me alone!"
>Moondancer had not so much as looked up to address you.
>It was a sad fact that you were used to this kind of treatment from her.
>She meant nothing by it, you knew. Usually she was nice.
>She often got into funks when she worked.
>Easily stressed and frustrated, irritable to a fault.
>She worked hard and held herself to an unreasonable level.
>So long ago you learned best how to handle her when she's frustrated.
"Look, Dance, I came over because no one has heard from you all day. I was a little worried."
>"Well clearly I'm fine."
"Psh, you're far from it. Just look at yourself. Isn't that the same sweater you wore yesterday?"
>"I don't need you judging me, Anon!"
"You're right, I'm sorry. You just worry me when you get like this. You're always so frustrated and pent up."
>"I am not!"
"That's just what I mean, right there! You work hard, get frustrated, then lash out. Is that really how you want to be around your friends?"
>The mare finally lifted her eyes from her book - only to roll them at your question.
>You understood it as a reluctant affirmation of your observation.
>Stepping forward you took a seat on her desk.
"All I'm saying is that you need to take a break every once in a while. I'm your friend, Dance, I'm here to help if you need it. Why don't we go out for something to eat?"
>Moondancer's eyes narrowed and she shook her head.
>"I don't have time for that. Leaving my room would just be a waste and a distraction."
"So you won't leave?"
>She returned to her book.
>"Nope."
>It was your turn to roll your eyes.
>A moment of silence elapsed as you thought.
>At least now she seemed to be tolerating your presence.
>That was progress.
>But as you looked at your bookish friend, her brow a rictus of focused stress, your empathy flared in your chest.
>You couldn't bear to see her like this.
>And then a plan dawned on you.
"Sooo...you won't leave your room?"
>"Nope."
"Do you trust me?"
>"What? What kind of a question is that?"
>She pulled her nose from her book and eyed you with irritated caution, trying to seek out your intentions.
>You shrugged.
"Do you trust me? Easy question."
>"Well...I guess, yeah."
"Cool."
>You hopped off her desk and came around to her.
"Then show me your hoof."
>"W-what?!"
"She me your hoof."
>"No!"
"Come on, Dance, I thought you trusted me. Seeing you so stressed makes me unhappy and I think I have a way to cheer you up."
>"And you need my hoof for that?!"
"Yup. So gimme one."
>"No! What are you going to do?"
"Rub 'em."
>"You wanna touch my hoof? That's gross!"
"I used to be pretty good at foot rubs back home. I'm sure the skill carries over well enough to hooves. Now c'mon. I don't care if they're dirty."
>"No!"
"Dance, how many people are lining up to offer you a hoof massage?"
>Another roll of her eyes.
"Look, I'm trying to help you out here. it'll just be for a bit. If you don't like it, I'll stop. And you can even keep reading while I do it. I promise you it'll relax you. And be honest with yourself: you need it."
>She looked away and seemed to ponder the proposal with some annoyance.
>At length she pushed her chair away from her desk and turned towards you.
>"You're really weird, you know that?"
"Psh, you know you love me."
>A resigned sigh and yet another roll of her eyes and she lifted a leg towards you, presenting a hoof.
>You parked yourself on the floor before her and took her hoof in your hands.
>Moondancer had already turned her attentions back to her book.
>Without further ado, you began.
>You pressed both thumbs gently against the soft sole of her heel.
>Pressing them in firmly, you dragged your thumbs down together to the base of her heel, where they parted, following the bars down to either wall of her hoof.
>You trailed them up, skirting the inner walls of her hoof, following that arch up where your thumbs met again.
>You continued this pattern for a few minutes: down, around and up, applying more or less pressure here and there.
>You took a certain joy in your work.
>A happiness derived not from any veiled sexual thrill, but a contentedness from helping your friend.
>As you focused on your massage you kept alert for the command to stop.
>It met you with a bit of surprise when, after massaging for 5 minutes, it never came.
>You smiled and stole a glance upwards.
>Moondancer kept her eyes on her book, propping her head up with a leg, unchanged from when you had began.
>Her brow, however, HAD changed.
>It had grown softer, less menacing and more beatific.
>Her eyes, instead of darting back and forth along sentences, remained still, fixed absently in blank space.
>She was distracted.
>Or, perhaps more accurately, focused on her hoof.
>As the leg her head rested on veiled her mouth you wondered if she was smiling.
>Attempting to quell the snarky "I told you so" attitude, you spoke.
"Like it, don't you?"
>You response you received was nothing intelligible.
>A lofty, muffled "Mmmm" was all that came from your friend.
>You chuckled to yourself and continued.
>Your thumbs broke their pattern, now kneading in circles against her tender sole.
>With some skill you applied more pressure to her tender hoof, feeling out tougher areas and granting them more attention.
>After a time you gave your thumbs a rest.
>Supporting her hoof with one hand, you pressed the knuckle of your index and middle fingers against her tenderized skin, dragging them up and down slowly.
>Moondancer stirred in her seat at your change of pace.
>You swore you heard a sharp breath from above followed by an intentionally stifled exhale.
>You cracked a second smile.
"You know, the whole point of this is to let off some steam. Holding all that back kinda defeats the purpose."
>You stole another glance up.
>Moondancer's eyes were closed, her brow resuming it's former furrow at your exclamation.
>She seemed to head your advice, however.
>As your knuckles kneaded deeper into her stress she took a deep breath in and released it loudly through her nose.
>An air of bliss washed over her face.
>Resigning herself to your treatment, she abandoned her book and leaned back in her chair.
>Ever magnanimous in victory, you continued.
>You decided to extend your area of massage.
>You gingerly wrapped your fingers around her leg just below her hock and dragged it back towards you, caressing your fingers along her tense shank.
>Your other hand mirrored it's brother, grasping and massaging downwards, one after the other, a continuous stream of massaging fingers.
>Moondancer groaned under her breath and listed her head back against the crest of her chair.
>She rested her forehooves on her stomach as she reclined in bliss.
>Strength restored to them, you busied your thumbs, kneading and caressing up and down the length of her shank.
>Her stressed and strained muscles began to soften and melt like putty in your grip.
>Letting your fingers do their own things, you relaxed into yourself, closing your eyes and smiling warmly at the bliss of your friend.
>Even blind your fingers searched out stress points and knotted muscles.
>Adroit fingers and thumbs converted mounds of stress into pools of lifted tension with expert motions.
>Your ears perked as you caught another audible groan from above.
>Your heart glowed as you observed your Moondancer's features.
>Gentle brows, lifted in unfamiliar bliss.
>Eyes closed, but fluttering beneath.
>Her mouth slightly agape, jaw relaxed in respite.
>Her breath steady yet deep.
>Moondancer was immersed in your treatment.
>You danced your fingers back to her hoof and proceed with a few more circles of your thumb.
>Concluding with a flourish, a gentle graze your fingernails against her sole, you eased her hoof into your lap.
>All a smile, you looked up.
"How you feeling?"
>Moondancer wearily opened her eyes as though waking from a dream.
>"Mmm...good."
"I thought you would be."
>Moondancer produced a sleepy nod, allowing the rest of her body to continue relaxing.
"I told ya you would like it."
>She exhaled as she spoke, still riding on something of an afterglow.
>"You were right, okay?"
>You smiled.
"That sounds oh so good."
>You gently removed her hoof from your lap and stood up, dusting off your pants.
"So. You wanna go grab something to eat now that you're a bit more relaxed?"
>Moondancer simply blinked at you.
>Slowly, a coy smile donned her lips.
>"I told you I'm not leaving."
>You cocked your head.
"Oh come on."
>"Nope. I'm not leaving until the work is done."
"You still want to work? After that?"
>To your surprise Moondancer proffered something usually alien to her.
>A laugh.
>"Oh no. My work is done for the day."
>She drew back the hoof you had attended to and, very slowly, stretched out her other one towards you.
>"YOUR work is incomplete."
>A coy smile mingled with heavy, almost pleading eyes upon Moondancer's features.
>Seeing your friend so relaxed and so mellow you could not keep yourself from cracking a smile.
>You chuckled and assumed your previous position.
>Taking her hoof in your hand, you considered all the places left on her to massage.
>Hooves.
>Legs.
>Head.
>Back.
>You shook your head and grinned.
"I'm going to be here for a while, aren't I?"
>Reading your mind as though it were one of her books, she closed her eyes and smiled.
>"Oh yeah."