Ethan Gray was busy preparing chilled savory noodles, his chosen menu for the evening.
The golden hour had arrived, and the setting sun was spilling its honeyed light into the Little Red Pony Academy. It poured through his window, illuminating the room in a warm, amber glow that felt so tangible he felt he could almost reach out and touch the sunbeams.
He reached over and flicked off the air conditioning, opting instead to push the window wide open. As the evening deepened, the stifling humidity of the Riverport day had begun to retreat, replaced by a much kinder temperature. Outside his window, the ancient Camphor tree swayed gently in the breeze. Its massive, hand-shaped leaves rustled together in a rhythmic chorus, and the wind that filtered through the lush greenery was remarkably co
