The weeks continued to go by, and before either of them knew it, Spike and Thorax entered their fourth moon staying in Vanhoover. Even though four moons wasn’t a significantly great stretch of time, the two still couldn’t help but take note of it, finding it significant that they had successfully remained in hiding for four moons straight; no easy feat considering the circumstances. Spike was particularly proud by the fact they had settled into living fairly normal lives despite it all, and indeed had come to see living life working in Fly Leaf’s shop in Vanhoover as the new normal. It was getting increasingly hard to see how they could live any other sort of life. They felt part of the city and its populace now, less outcasts on the run and more just two friends getting through life. Spike personally thought this point was very important to cherish, and Thorax could appreciate the dragon’s points on the matter too.
However, Thorax’s attention was more often turned to other, more petty, concerns, as this transition into the fourth moon in Vanhoover also brought autumn properly into the city at long last. The transition between seasons now complete, the leaves were now turning into a spectacular array of colors, and the temperatures cooled dramatically more still, to the point that wearing a jacket when going outside was usually advisable by default for anypony. As Thorax had been promised, it was a very pretty change in scenery that promised to stick around for a good while still before it came time for winter.
Spike admitted to finding the timing of the new season somewhat jarring; he explained that because it was further south, he fully expected that Ponyville was still in the final throes of summer, only just now beginning to seriously prep for autumn and hadn’t undergone the change in scenery yet themselves. This was confirmed to Thorax in Trixie’s letters that she and Thorax had been routinely exchanging since the performer’s departure from Vanhoover, her most recent putting her somewhere well outside the Canterlot area but where she notes that the leaves on the trees were all still “quite green” despite the weather gradually cooling. For Trixie, this was preferred, as she professed herself to be a “summertime mare” who hated the cold weather that came during the other times of the year.
And Thorax found he could relate. As pretty as the autumn season appeared, the cooler weather that coupled with it got tiring for the changeling. It wasn’t so much that he couldn’t handle the cold; his natural chitin doubled as a layer of insulation, and the energy produced from wearing his magical disguise as Thornton offered some additional heat. When either of those weren’t enough for Thorax, he would put on his jacket to wear, adding yet another layer of insulation. So he could manage. The problem though was that having to “just manage” with the cold so continuously eventually started to grate on him, to the point that he began to get frustrated and annoyed by it enough to verbally gripe about it from time to time. He would even occasionally curse the cooler temperatures in his native language without thinking, often with a degree of passion when caught in the moment.
He nearly gave Spike a panic attack at one point when he did this cursing without thinking in the presence of Fly Leaf, who of course overheard. Thankfully, recalling that he was multilingual, Fly didn’t think anything of it—helped by the fact she didn’t recognize the language—and merely asked what language it was Thorax had spoken in. Embarrassed at his own lack of caution though, Thorax instead shrugged it off, neglecting to answer by telling Fly that she was better off not knowing, thus cluing Fly in that whatever he said, it wasn’t considered polite. Shrugging it off then, Fly didn’t pry further, but she did advise Thorax to “try and keep the swearing to himself in the future”…only adding to Thorax’s embarrassment. He was more cautious about cursing the cold after that point, but he still could be heard doing it under his breath from time to time.
It was the only downfall worth mentioning though, as otherwise things were proceeding well for them. Of particular note for Thorax was the continuation at his attempts to create his own changeling cheese substitute, working at making the cheese from scratch himself. After about two weeks of cooking, curdling, forming, and aging (as Thorax himself described the process of making the cheese) Thorax felt he had finished his first attempt at the cheese, having allowed the cheese to age the same amount of time real changeling cheese would, and one time at dinner shared the resulting off-white colored cheese with Spike and Fly Leaf as a special treat, hoping to get their input on it. Thorax personally thought that while the cheese turned out successfully and was the closest in taste to the changeling cheese he desired, he felt it still wasn’t quite there. He attributed the discrepancy to the fact he had no changeling milk to use in making it (a fact Spike was still thankful for), and instead had to make do with the only other milks available to him on the pony market; in this instance he used regular whole cow’s milk. Therefore, when this sampling took place he was already debating trying again, altering the recipe in hopes of getting closer still.
But he changed his mind when the cheese proved to be a hit with Spike and Fly Leaf. Spike in particular was surprised by the taste of the soft and creamy, yet savory, cheese, especially since he had gone into tasting the cheese very skeptically, initially unable to shake his preconceptions about it. But he quickly saw why Thorax was trying so hard to replicate such a flavor, and Fly was quick to agree. Additionally, the cheese was not only agreed to be good, but also unique in flavor; none of them, not even Thorax who knew the most about cheeses, could think of a preexisting type of cheese that quite matched it in flavor or texture. So since Thorax had conceded it wasn’t quite the changeling cheese he was searching for (not that he referred to the desired cheese by that name in Fly’s presence) and knew of no other cheese available to the pony palate it could fall under, he decided that it was probably some unintentional new kind of cheese altogether. Intrigued by this, Spike and Fly Leaf decided to give it a name and soon settled on calling it “Thornton Cheese,” in honor of its creator.
Thornton Cheese continued to prove to be a hit in the group after Fly, in a moment of experimenting during lunch one day, found the cheese went well on a salad. Spurred by this discovery, she also found it was good on a lettuce and tomato sandwich. Spike did some of his own experimenting after hearing this and found the cheese could be used to make a mean grilled cheese sandwich too, which rapidly became his new favorite choice for lunchtime meals. As this popularity led to the first batch of Thornton Cheese running out in short order and both Fly and Spike eager for more, Thorax agreed to make additional batches on demand, ensuring an ongoing supply for them to enjoy.
Business had also been going well for Fly’s shop at this time as well, which was especially encouraging considering that the transition switching from summer-themed stock to autumn-themed stock was initially marred with problems, particularly when Fly ended up receiving far more autumn stock from some of her distributors than originally told to plan for and briefly had no place to put all the extra stock, while stock from another provider was delayed from arriving when expected. This resulted in the switch getting slowed down and Fly’s shop briefly lagging behind in its competition who by then had already switched (a fact rival shop owner Letterpress was quick to vocally note to Fly Leaf when she could). But the problems had been successfully smoothed over after some hard work and now business was back at the desired standards. According to Fly, sales were strong, but at the same time, business wasn’t maxed out to the point that it was overwhelming. Nonetheless, Spike had found that as their workload could change at any given time, he had taken to planning ahead for the next week’s activities so to avoid conflict.
“Any events of note that I need to keep in mind for next week, Thorax?” he asked his changeling friend one evening after work while looking at their calendar.
“Nothing that comes to mind,” Thorax responded aloud without looking up from the airship textbook he was reading in his sleeping nest.
Spike tapped the end of the pencil he held against his chin, regarding the week listed on the calendar, certain he was overlooking something. “You’re positive on that?” he asked to be certain. “I feel like I’m overlooking something…”
Thorax didn’t respond right away. Spike assumed he was thinking about it, but as the changeling hadn’t outwardly reacted otherwise, it was hard to be certain. “Are you perhaps thinking of that late shipment of autumn-themed stock that the distributor had to delay shipping to us?” he suggested finally.
“Ooh!” Spike said, reminded of this and proceeding to jot down the needed note on the calendar. “That’s probably it right there. I don’t have that noted already.” He chuckled in relief. “Luckily, that’s not expected to arrive until the week after next, so that gives me time to prep and figure out where to put that shipment when it finally does arrive.” He gazed at the calendar again. “Is that really everything though? It seems like that leaves next week more…empty than usual.”
“It’s everything that I can think of.”
Spike glanced over at the changeling from where he sat on the window seat. “There must be something happening next week,” he urged.
Thorax turned the page in his book. “Well, I suppose I will formally be a year older this next Thursday if that’s really of any interest,” he commented disinterestedly without looking up from his book.
Spike blinked and continued to gaze at him. “Wait…are you saying that Thursday is your birthday, Thorax?” he asked in surprise.
“My hatching day, yes,” Thorax confirmed in the same tone as before, like it was all no big deal to him.
It was to Spike though. “Thorax!” he cried in surprise at his friend. “Why didn’t you say something? We should totally do something to celebrate that day!”
Thorax glanced up at him with a blank look. “Why?” he asked simply.
Spike was momentarily brought up short, not expecting this. “Well…it’s your birthday,” he reasoned like that was explanation enough. It was for him at least.
“My hatching day,” Thorax corrected patiently. “That was the day I hatched from my egg. Technically speaking, my birthday would be more the day my egg was laid, and we’ve already passed that day.” He frowned, puzzled. “I don’t know why you’d want to celebrate the day my egg was laid anyway…just because the egg was laid doesn’t mean it will successfully hatch or that the resulting offspring is healthy.”
“Oh, stop being technical, you know what I mean!” Spike said with a teasing smirk. “I hatched from an egg too you know, but I refer to it as my birthday anyway because that was still the first day of my life. Isn’t that worth celebrating?”
“Certainly,” Thorax agreed, but then pressed on. “But this wouldn’t be the first day of my life, merely the yearly anniversary of it.”
Spike stared at him blankly. “Isn’t that still worth celebrating?” he asked then realized what might be the problem here. “Don’t changelings celebrate birthdays?”
“Hatching days. And they’re…noted, at least.”
Spike wanted for Thorax to elaborate, but instead the changeling turned back to his textbook. “So…” he prompted finally. “…I’m guessing that means no parties or celebrations or anything like that on a changeling’s birthday, or hatching day, or whatever you want to call it.”
Thorax shrugged. “To changelings, it’s not really a day for frivolous celebrations like that, no,” he confirmed simply. “It’s really more just a day for some self-review. A little introspection back on the past year of a changeling’s life and if they’re still meeting the expected or needed tasks assigned by the hive. At most, the changeling’s closest higher-up will sit down with them to review if they’re doing as required, or if they are in need of reassignment, or more.”
Spike gave Thorax an unimpressed look at this explanation. “So basically changeling birthdays are celebrated by simply giving the changeling a performance review,” he summed up in a flat tone.
Thorax nodded. “I never particularly held the day in much regard myself considering my year’s review of actions was often met with criticism and disappointment. You know, because I was always the oddball changeling in the hive, never meeting the usual changeling expectations. But it has its uses too, so I never could object to it too much…especially now, where I can introspect as I see fit, and not the hive.”
Spike frowned. “Well, that’s no way to celebrate somebody’s birthday.”
“Hatching day.”
“Whatever!” Spike jumped down from the window seat and strolled up this friend. “Look, let’s not do it the changeling way this year and have a little Equestrian-style celebration instead? It’ll be fun!”
Thorax tilted his head at Spike. “What’s wrong with doing some traditional introspection?” he asked. “It makes sense to me. That’s how I’ve always done it. It’s how every changeling does it. It’s really not a big deal either way, though. After all, a newly hatched nymph just means another mouth to feed in a hive that only has so many resources to support itself. I don’t see why we need to blow it out of proportion with a distracting celebration.”
“Boy, you changelings are buzzkills when it comes to birthdays,” Spike said, partly disappointed at the dull and frankly demeaning way of celebrating birthdays and partly amused by the stark contrast of it all. “Do you even know how ponies celebrate birthdays?” he then challenged with a grin, putting his claws on his hips.
Thorax considered the question for a moment. “I’ve heard bits and pieces in passing over the years,” he admitted, “Obviously never actually participated in one before, though.” That alone told Spike a great deal, but Thorax pressed on before he could comment. “Look Spike, I appreciate what you’re trying to do,” he assured the dragon with a sympathetic grin. “But I just don’t think it’s necessary to celebrate something as simple like my hatching day with such…pomp. Now I get you were raised in a culture that doesn’t do it that way, and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. But must we really make a big deal out of this just for my sake?”
“Yes,” Spike stated with a brutally honest smirk.
Thorax returned it. “Ha-ha,” he said sarcastically. “My point, Spike, is that no, I don’t think I’m too interested in doing something to celebrate my hatching day, at least not this year. Okay?”
Spike sighed, relenting. “Okay, okay, I won’t keep trying to get you to plan for a birthday celebration, Thorax,” he promised.
“Hey Fly, Thornton’s birthday is this next Thursday,” Spike told Fly Leaf the following morning while she was making breakfast and while Thorax was still busy upstairs, where he wouldn’t overhear. “We should totally surprise him with a party to celebrate!”
Fly looked up from the waffles she was in the middle of making. “Sounds like fun,” she agreed with an approving smile. “What sort of party did you have in mind?”
“Something to show it’s worth it to Thornton, and that it was important enough for us to do for him,” Spike said, having spent the past night considering the matter, “But at the same time, not overwhelming. Thornton seems to not want to make a great big hullabaloo out of this, so we probably shouldn’t go all out.”
“Hmm,” Fly hummed, considering the matter as she pulled a complete waffle off the iron. “Sounds like we’d want to keep it to a private affair then…just him and us. But we can still have a small party, some treats, maybe some simple decorations and the sort…”
Spike nodded in agreement. “That sounds good to me. I think he’d appreciate that.”
“Then that just leaves the matter of gifts,” Fly said, stacking the completed waffles on a plate to serve.
“That’s the other thing I needed to talk to you about,” Spike said, following her as she moved to take the waffles to the table. “I want to get him something special…something that tells him that he’s not just anybody to me, but my best friend, and how much that means to me. Something spectacular to reward him for everything he’s done for all of us that he’ll love to death. The perfect sort of gift, you know?”
“Ambitious,” Fly noted, raising her eyebrows and intrigued. “What sort of gift are you thinking of?”
“And that’s the problem,” Spike said with a sigh. “I’m not sure what gift would be…you know…good enough. I was hoping you’d have some ideas.”
“Well, let’s look at it logically,” Fly said, seating herself at the table and pulling out a spare notecard and pencil that was sitting on the adjacent counter. “You want to get him a gift that will both convey his importance to you, and also be something he’ll actually enjoy and want to have. I completely want to do the same if possible. It’s the only way to give gifts after all.”
Spike chuckled.
“So the first thing to do is to pander to Thornton’s interests,” Fly said, taking up the pencil and gearing up to write. “Let’s name what some of the biggest of those interests are.”
Spike rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he sat down to the table too. “Well, Sky Trek obviously,” he began. “He is interested in expanding his collection of copies of the books…but getting him a book just seems…lame.”
Fly chuckled as she jotted it down on the paper. “It’s still a start,” she reasoned before adding another. “But let’s not forget he also likes Doctor Hooves, and there seems to be a fair bit of merchandise for that…we could see what some of our options there are, see if anything jumps out to us. What else?”
“Girly pop music, apparently. I mean, the things I’ll walk in on him listening to at times…”
“I guess we should also list the obvious one of cheese.”
“Yeah, but it seems kind of moot when he’s taken up trying to make his own cheese, and anyway, of the other cheeses out there we could buy, he still hasn’t decided what ones he likes the most.” Spike tilted his gaze upwards as he continued to think. “That does remind me though, when we’re out running errands, he often likes to stop and watch any street performers he passes…though I’m not sure what sort of gifts we could find relating to that.”
Fly glanced up at him as she continued jotting all of this down in her list. “He’s still experimenting with magic in his free time, isn’t he? Maybe we could get him a notable magic textbook. One of those sorts you can’t just get anywhere, so that it’s not just a book.”
“He’s also shown an interest in cartography and navigation…he at least seems to be pretty good at it, so there could be something there.”
“Helium balloons seem to fascinate him for some odd reason. There was this one occasion where a foal came into the shop with such a balloon, and I swear, Thornton was watching the thing bob around with such fascination the whole time, it was like he was afraid he was going to miss something if he looked away even for just a second.”
“Well I guess everybody has their simple pleasures. He likes popping bubble wrap too, come to think of it.”
“But then who doesn’t?”
“And airships. He loves airships. In fact, we probably should’ve listed that one first.”
“Last but not least, then,” Fly said as she noted it down. She then picked up the list and looked it over for a moment. “It gives us a good frame of reference of what sort of things we need to be looking for, though.” She handed the list over to Spike. “We’ll have to stop there for now, since breakfast is getting cold.” She motioned to the plate of waffles waiting for them to partake in them. “But you and I can be thinking about what sort of gifts we can come up with fitting with any of these categories, keeping our eyes out for anything that might be suitable, and we can meet back up later and discuss what we came up with.”
“It’s a plan then,” Spike said, with a nod in agreement.
“Good,” Fly said, then jerked her head at the door. “Now go fetch Thornton and get him down here so we can have breakfast.”
The day then pressed on as they finished breakfast and they opened up the shop for business. Things were proceeding fairly normally, keeping them at the usual level of busy, but nonetheless, both Spike and Fly were keeping their eyes out for any inspirations for a good birthday gift for Thorax. Spike was expecting that they would meet up again either around dinnertime or sometime later that evening to further discuss the matter. However, instead, the subject came back up that afternoon, after Fly had retreated into the kitchen for her lunchbreak while Spike and Thorax continued to run the shop.
She hadn’t been in there for much longer than half the break at best when she suddenly came sprinting back out, an excited look in her eyes. “Spike!” she practically squealed as she hurried over to where the dragon stood behind the cash register, finishing giving a customer their change (who casually backed away with a leery look as Fly approached). “Quick, where’s Thornton?”
“Upstairs on the second floor,” Spike said, gazing puzzledly at Fly through his glasses. “He’s helping Mrs. White pick out what colors of stationery she wants for her latest craft project. Why?”
“Because I’ve found the perfect gift for us to give him for his birthday,” Fly said eagerly, and she slapped a newspaper she was carrying loudly on the front desk before Spike. “Bam! What do you think of that?”
The paper was turned to the classifieds, and Fly pointed her hoof at a specific entry listed on it. Spike leaned closer to read it for a moment. He then glanced back up at the earth pony with wide eyes. “No way.”
“Yes way,” Fly replied with a grin.
“You’re serious?”
“Of course I am, Spike, or I wouldn’t have left in the middle of my lunch just to show you!”
Spike studied the entry again, his face a mixture between excitement and apprehension. He had misgivings about even daring to think if this could really be pulled off. “Can either of us even afford that?”
“I’m thinking we can, if we both pitch in and pool together our funds for it,” Fly reasoned keenly. “We can make it a gift from the both of us. Somehow I think Thornton wouldn’t mind that at all.”
Spike stared at the entry in the paper for a second longer, rubbing his face as he considered the matter. “Thornton is going to flip when he finds out about this,” he said. He glanced up at Fly with a grin on his face. “It’s perfect.”
Fly grinned herself. “I figured you’d agree.”