(Honestly? For something like Hay Bale, it makes sense for her past to be multiple-choice. )
Copper, to his shame and the credit of the brandy, looked where she pointed and pricked his ears up eagerly.
Snow was less easily duped. "No, wait-" She reached out a hoof and started gaining altitude, but it was far, far too late. Maybe if Hay Bale only ate fast food for a month and did nothing but lounge about, then Snow might've had a hope of catching her. Alas, all she caught was the door. With her muzzle.
Muttering a few choice obscenities and nursing a nasty bruise, Snow returned to her seat in a huff. At Copper's nudging, she sighed and addressed Balboa. "...sorry about that, sir. It's not every day I get the chance to have what might be second subject pop in right under my nose. Now where were we?"