"Sorry, kid," the old dragon rumbled. Her black pelt, covered with crystalline scales, glittered as she patted him roughly on the head.
Spike only shook his head with a smile. It was crooked and wormed up on his face like a dead slug, but... no. Eh. It was fine. That just meant more adventures, right? And he'd had a lot of fun with this one so far -- he couldn't wait to tell Twilight about that crazy glowing carving he'd found, she'd love that! Plus there was all kinds of other cool stuff!
He clenched his fist around his latest treasure. He proudly didn't flinch when it jabbed his palm.
It would be fine.
He told the old dragon so, but she just snorted out a cloud of smoke as he left.
Spike sighed and laid the scale down. It was hard and cold, like a shiny piece of charcoal. Next to the others, it barely even stood out. Not when that one shone a gorgeous aquamarine, and that one had a fine matte-green finish, and that one was shaped like a brutal spade. But Spike knew the difference. Between all of them. All twenty of them.
That one came from a golden dragon, who was more interested in her gems than a little drake. That one over there had been roasting a manticore when he waltzed in. That one didn't even talk to him, just roared, and Spike had felt a little guilty when he picked up a shed scale when she looked away. This one, this newest one... she just thought he was annoying.
None of them were his mom.
Spike dragged a clawed finger down one of his treasures, then smiled tight. He loaded all the scales into his little bag, and then he stood up.
It would be okay. It was okay. After all, he was getting warmer. He had to be.