Sitting on a ridgeline above the quiet mountain town, Filly fiddled idly with a fresh lockpick, spinning it pensively between her fingers as her mind mulled over the day’s events. Only a few days into practicing consistently with the instrument, she couldn’t lie that she already felt rather comfortable with it. Whatever her reservations about the morality of it all and the overall plan, the skill itself came to her as readily as if she’d been doing it her whole life.