[Cabbage, Chapter 4]

[Cabbage, Chapter 4]
>"Amazing! So humans can't use magic?" asked the mint pony, her eyes twinkling with a genuine lust for knowledge.
"No, no. Myths say that we may have been able to, at one point- then again, myths also say that dragons exist."
>"You don't have dragons where you come from either?" she gasped.
"You're kidding, right? You don't actually... Oh, good God."
>You blew a great gust of air from your lips, shifting your gaze hungrily towards your host's kitchen. In response to the familiar looking place, your stomach growled, betraying the ravenous hunger you'd built up during your vicious beating and rapid recovery. You did seem to be getting better far quicker than you ever had before. For now, you attributed it to magic, because you really didn't want to sacrifice the brain-power needed to solve this relatively simple problem.
"I hate to interrupt this invigorating session of question and answer, but... I'm starving."
>"Oh, right. Should've gotten you some breakfast this morning- sorry about that." she apologized sincerely, shooting you a goofy, sad-eyed plea for forgiveness.
>In response, you nodded and chuckled softly.
"It's fine. Just get moving on that meal, already."

>Her mint-y green body swayed about to the wild beat of the song she was humming to herself, preparing your food with a somewhat zany zeal. She was very concentrated on fixing the meal- though you'd yet to see what it was- and she did seem to find joy in doing her little dance. Her mood was infectious; though you hated singing, you soon found yourself humming the tune quietly, watching your hostess work. She did seem to have a sort of expert quality to herself. Maybe she worked as a cook?
>"Winter Wrap-Up, Winter Wrap-Up..." she sang softly, pouring ingredients into a bowl and engulfing it in her magic.
>She stirred the concoction with a nearby wooden spoon, breathing in a heavy whiff of the whatever-she-was-making. Then, happy with her work, she let out a long, satisfied sigh, setting the bowl down before pouring it into two smaller bowls and putting those on platters, levitating the both of them back towards you. She sat one down before her, one before you, and took a seat on the chair opposite you.
>"Instant vegetable stew!" she exclaimed triumphantly, trying to read your expression. "Bet you can't do that back home."
>You didn't have the heart to tell her that what she just took ten minutes of hard labour to make would take you roughly two minutes of waiting back at home, so you just smiled and nodded.
"It really is a shame; this looks good."

>Soon enough, the sun had gone down. Long before that, the mint pony's 'best friend', as she had put it, had returned home from work. She joined the two of you in asking questions, for a short while, then went off to bed. Not long after, you and your companion felt the effects of exhaustion set in as well, and parted ways in the noble quest for sleep.
>"Sweet dreams..."

>"'Come and see!' I looked, and there before me was a pale horse. His name set upon him was Death, and Hell followed close behind."
>You remembered the priest that had lived in the apartment next to you would constantly repeat this passage of his Holy Bible, the sound of his voice carrying through the thin walls. You'd heard it so often that it was ingrained in your mind, now- accepted as one of your own thoughts. It was strange. You hadn't been to an American church, back then; too much work to be done. But your neighbor would recite basically half the damned book before supper, and he'd spout nonsense about the Four Horsemen in his sleep to top it all off. Occasionally, the man might tell of two others; the clean horse, whom he had named Suffering, and the empty horse, whom he had named Captivity. You didn't seek to question the priest; he probably wasn't even aware of what he'd said. You simply listened. After a while, his night-ramblings had turned into a sort of bedtime story.
>Yes, a very, very off-putting bedtime story.

>The next morning, you awoke with the minty pony standing directly in front of you, eyes wide and head split into an absurd sort of grin. You hadn't quite awoken yet, so this hadn't jolted your brain awake like it should've.
"G'mornn..."
>"Good morning!" she replied cheerfully, closing her eyes and grinning even wider in a satisfied kind of happiness. "C'mon, lazy bones! On your hooves, and let's get movin'!"
"Thrr cal'd feet."
>She sighed, rolling her eyes while still maintaining that huge smile. "Well, whatever those doodads are, wake up and get on 'em!"
>It was at this point you realized just what was wrong, here. Your jaw tightened, and you drew the covers more protectively over yourself.
"You didn't do something to me in my sleep, did you?"