Clover quickly wraps the pillow around the wet mare, giving her a hug through it. Sitting down across from her, she looks through the photos on the floor, but before she can get a close look, Skillet gives her one to hold.
 
“This… is my daughter. Well, was my daughter. A long time ago.”
 
Clover looks over the photo to see a small, happy filly, a waffle hanging from her muzzle as she munches away at breakfast. She has an amber coat, a bit brighter than Skillet’s, with a soft, butter-colored mane. Her eyes gleam bright gold, like her mother’s.
 
“Her name was Waffle Batter, or just Waffle. Isn’t she just the sweetest thing you could imagine? I’m a hundred percent positive that her cutie mark would have been something breakfast related.”
 
The mare takes the photo back when Clover finishes examining it, frowning.
 
“Clover, I know you’ll keep this secret for me. There’s a reason why I’ve hidden these photos…”
 
Stacking them up, Skillet puts them back into a neat pile, shuffling through them again.
 
“When you live a life like mine, you can’t have family. None that you can speak of, at least. If we were ever caught, ponies could use this against me, or those I love.”
 
She gives Clover another photo, this one of a familiar looking stallion. She immediately recognizes him. Iron Hammer. Her step dad.
 
“This was my hubby before I left… When I told you that Silverwind picked me up out of a resort, that was a half truth. In all honesty… I left because of him. He… well, just be glad you didn’t have to meet him. He was mean. The only reason I keep the picture myself is because he used to be a nice, loving stallion before we lost our filly… Deep down, I wish I could find him again, and hope that he went back to the loving stallion I used to know. And when he stopped talking to me, and started leaving the house for days on end…”
 
She shuffles through the pictures again, sighing.
 
“Nothing could replace our little Waffle. She was abducted, five years ago. Stolen out of our home in the middle of the night. If she’s still alive, she’s probably a full grown mare right now, I doubt I could recognize her.”
 
Clover silently returns the photo to Skillet, shaken.
 
“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost… ah, I know why. You’re probably scared about something like that happening to you. Don’t worry your little head about a thing. As long as you follow Silverwind’s directions, I know you’ll be fine. You’ve got a big journey ahead of you, and you’ll needs lots of courage to NOT fuck up, eh?”
 
She gives a laugh, short and cold. It’s definitely lacking her usual mirth.
 
“The pillow honestly has little value. I took it from my house when I quit my job, stuffed what I could into it, and kept it on my hammock. Once Timbers and Shanty started dating, they began screwing around, and when I caught them in my hammock, well… it wasn’t pretty. Shanty now makes it her job to personally find and have sex on my secret pillow. And I would just buy a book and keep these in it, but that’s a bit too obvious for me. I like to keep my things private, for obvious reasons. And I guess I think about them around the Festival of Ages because… well, I’m from Vanhoover, y’know? The festival is the best part.”
 
Skillet goes through the photos again, handing Clover a picture of Waffle, Hammer, and a peculiar looking purple pegasus. What’s odd is that Hammer is doing something he never does; smile. But it gets even more strange. The pegasus has the most stern look on her face, her eyes focusing on the camera, three hats of different varieties on her head.
 
“This is back when Hammer was all smiles. He’s next to Vee, who helped me get out of town years later. In fact, she introduced me to Silverwind, and the same day he walked into my restaurant is the same day I decided to “accidentally” destroy half of the kitchen. So it was a good choice. And I bet you’re wondering why Vee has three hats on her head. Vee… well, she’s weird. Smart, but very, VERY weird. She has a thing for hats. And don’t get me started on preening… but she’s an amazing friend, though hard to interact with.”
 
There’s a lull in the conversation, giving Clover time to ask questions.
 
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