(I ship Martha and Mayberry..) __ Mrs. Mayberry smoked a cigarette, walking down the halls of hers and Martha’s shared home. You; the adopted kid was doing something, which was— maybe fine?..

NOPE. You were playing with fire, Mrs. Mayberry paused, her hooves no longer making a click clack sound.

“NO! NO! DON’T PLAY WITH THAT!” Mrs. Mayberry screamed, crushing the cigarette grabbing the lighter you were playing with to stop you from playing with the fire. She was still a caring woman overall.