Ruby Aurora
Perception: “You smell it as you walk into the room. Diffusing into the wallpaper, the hardwood floor, and the varnish of the countertop. It’s thick with a white, granular powder that makes your ears jittery, and you practically lick your lips in anticipation on an instinctual level. You see a single bag of it on the counter, but it’s clear that this room has seen its fair share of this granular gold.”
Logic: “Pure Cane, granulated sugar. The kind of stuff that bakers use to sweeten cookies, cakes, and other treats. Less cultured ponies compress it into cubes and eat them raw. You don’t recall how many times you’ve done this, but the fact this is the second fact you know about sugar is indicative of a deeper issue at hoof.”
Electro-Chemistry: “That’s the good stuff right there. Feels like it’s been ages since you had a nice bit of that. Go on, take a hoof-full. No pony will mind.”
Volition: “No. You don’t need that. You’re a stronger pony than this. You can wait until it’s baked into a tasty treat before eating it. You’re not some kind of animal.”