Who knows how long she’d been there, she could barely keep track of the time… lost count after a month, the cycle of light and dark being her only way to tell the passage of time once the chiming clock she kept upstairs had run down. The potion evidently was permanent… it wasn’t going to wear off, she’d come to realize in her idle thoughts.

Eventually her consciousness started to fade in and out, almost like a sleep, blissfully passing the time more quickly, only roused from the petrified slumber when noises alerted her, which was so very infrequent now… so quiet.

Seasons later, perhaps years, after the dust had settled thickly upon her she heard voices and movement, and found herself carried up into her own attic and stored away upon a pallet. The ponies remarked about the eccentric owner of the house that had vanished, how it was eventually sold, and wonder as to why she’d have kept a statue like this. They hadn’t any idea that it had once been a pony, and she couldn’t tell them.

Quiet befell her once more in the attic, the dust slowly settling again, cobwebs made here and there as time went by, the cycle of day and night never ending… unknown if she would ever be returned to flesh.

——-

Part 5 of 5

For Silvupis ~! Fun transformation sequence with their bat pony, Eventide.