reposting some old green of my favorite pony while i work on new material and to help keep the thread alive

>Cold caresses you from all sides, buffeted only partially by the fuzzy duvet tucked neatly around your limbs.
>Your eyes slowly come open, crusted over by a visit from the sandman.
>A mostly-dark bedroom greets you, dimly lit by the sleepy blue sunlight of an early morning creeping in from behind the curtains.
>You shift slightly, searching your sea of blankets for any sense of warmth that can relieve you from the frost nipping at your extremities.
>A great, shuddering yawn takes you suddenly, and your morning breath is ejected, thankfully, out and away from you.
>You continue to twist and turn, searching for that fabled heat that winter had supposedly snatched away while you slumbered.
>The Equestrian winter had hit hard this year, and its fury must have reached its peak in the middle of the night.
>Eventually, though, you do find that patch of warmth.
>Hiding among the mess of sheets and covers, a spot you had supposedly moved from is still radiating comfort.
>It calls to you.
>“Come on over,” it says.
>“Five more minutes won’t hurt, Anon.”
>Its offer is too strong to resist.
>With great effort, you roll your tired body over, wrapping yourself up in the duvet in the process.
>Holy shit, that’s nice.
>Although you’re now a burrito, the warmth is potent enough to seep through the fabric and turn your bodily housing into an oven.
>The soothing comfort is enough to add a couple of pounds to your eyelids, and in your current state, you’ve nary any strength to fight their fall.
>Your eyes close again, and the blackness overtakes all.
>Senses begin to fade one by one, but…
>Wasn’t there something you were supposed to be doing today?
>After a few seconds of thought, you decide that no, you did not have anything to do on Hearth’s Warming.
>Not until later, anyway. You didn’t need to be ready for that party for several hours, though, so you don’t feel bad about getting some extra winks in.
>As your thoughts fade into whispers of nothing, your breathing slows, and-
>She’s coming over.
>You’re thrown from your near-slumber as violently as possible.
>How could you have forgotten?
>With great haste, you fling your mountain of covers off of you, practically flying out of bed as you make a mad dash to your bathroom.
>As fast as you’ve ever gone, you throw on deo, cologne, and brush the absolute hell out of your teeth.
>With fresh pits and whites as pearly as snow (thank you Minuette), you rush back into your room and look for a decent ensemble of clothes.
>Hastily, you withdraw an adequate looking outfit.
>More than likely unfit for socializing with a princess, but it’ll have to do.
>You begin your rush back to the bathroom. Judging by the light from your curtains, you probably still have time to freshen up with a shower.
>Maybe, if you hurry, you can even-