[SFX: door opening]
DITHER: Hm? Oh, it’s you.
ZECORA: I’ve heard rumors of dark magic beneath this roof, so I’ve come to assist you with the seeds of truth. Unless my eyes deceive, a cure for Cutie Pox you’d best receive.
DITHER: Yeah, I’d meant to call for you… what day is it? Never mind. I already have a cutie mark in exotic botany, so just leave them there for m-
ZECORA: The curing cannot be delayed; I fear I may already be too late. The seeds respond to spoken words, and will not grow if their rules are not observed.
DITHER: Yeah, I got the gist of that a couple weeks ago. “The seeds of truth will,” uh...
ZECORA: (quoting ancient wisdom) The seeds of truth can cure a host of ills, but only through their victim’s wills. Each seed will sprout when spoken to, if what the patient speaks is true - but in the cases hard and tough, a simple truth is not enough. One must tell truths of that they dread, and many choose their ills instead.
DITHER: That’s… a lot smoother than my translation.
ZECORA: No time for talk of what one reads - you must make haste and plant the seeds.
DITHER: So I just… tell them the truth?
ZECORA: You speak correct, but do not stop until the seeds should sprout and fruit should drop. I can see your condition is most unstable, so for your own sake be sure that these truths are painful.
DITHER: Okay, and I just… stick them in the ground? Wait, are you leaving?
ZECORA: To hear your truths is not my place. It would be better for you to save some face.
[door closes]