Chapter Four: Gone Girls
~BlackRoseRaven
Spike blinked blearily, struggling not to yawn. His whole body felt tight and loose at the same time, like he had been stretched out, and even though the rain had stopped hours ago, he still felt a disgusting slickness over his scales, like he had turned into a snake or something.
He shook himself out, then rubbed vehemently at his face before he looked up, watching as Marina came trundling back into the campsite with a load of wood. She dropped these with a wheeze, and Moonbeam scowled from where she was laying on the tarp, but thankfully didn't say anything. Then again, Marina's eyes were still a little puffy from when she'd cried a little, and he thought even Moonbeam wasn't so heartless that she could stand seeing another pony cry.
The fillies were... Spike had lost track. They'd come and gone a few times: they all gave Moonbeam a wide berth, and they had mostly ignored him. He was used to that: he tended to get the tail end of whatever the ponies were dealing with at the time, but he didn't really blame them for that. Ponies were almost slaves to their emotions: he thought that was why they could be so good to each other, but also, well, so petty.
Spike yawned again, rubbing at his eyes before he glanced up as Marina approached him, and he frowned a bit before gesturing awkwardly at one of her mechanical legs, saying: “Uh. You got something stuck in there.”
“Oh.” Marina blushed a bit, using telekinesis to remove a few long pieces of grass that had gotten caught in the joints of her synthetic limbs. She studied them for a moment, then grimaced a bit and admitted: “I think yesterday and today have been harder on these things than all the months combined.”
Spike smiled briefly, and then Marina looked up and asked: “Can you light a fire for me?”
“I can try.” Spike said dubiously, and then he shrugged a bit as he clambered up to his feet, grimacing as his bones cracked loudly. It's like I aged ten years overnight. “My fire breath doesn't always work right, since it's enchanted.”
“That's okay. I appreciate you trying, at least.” Marina answered with a smile, and Spike smiled back: that little bit of extra kindness helped his motivation and confidence more than most ponies ever realized. “I was thinking that we could look for a bit of food today. I can forage and make some basic tools. Can you eat fish?”
Spike nodded as he approached the campfire, even as he confessed: “I can, but I don't often eat much meat or anything. The ponies all much prefer me to eat gemstones over anything uh... icky.”
'Icky' wasn't his word for it, but it was the word the ponies preferred, because to them, the idea of eating any kind of meat was taboo, if not monstrous. He guessed he understood... but at the same time, he wondered just a little if he wouldn't be so small still if they just let him eat a bit of chicken now and then.
He studied the stack of wood in the firepit for a moment, then glanced over at Marina and asked: “Do we have any spare paper? There might be some in one of the bags that wasn't soaked.”
“I'll check.” Marina didn't question him, didn't argue, didn't treat him like less than a person. She just went off and quickly checked the bag, then returned with some parchment scraps, even as Moonbeam watched grouchily from a short distance away. “Here.”
“Thanks.” Spike slipped most of the parchment down under the arrangement of wood, and then he rolled up the last and concentrated for a moment before breathing out a short, sharp gust of flame that licked the paper, then thankfully caught instead of making it whirl away.
He used the makeshift torch to light the parchment under the firewood, then a few smaller, drier pieces of kindling around the edge of the firepit. He smiled as the flames caught, studying them silently: this was good. He knew they had modified his dragon's breath for more reasons than just because it made it easy for Twilight to communicate with others: fire was dangerous. Fire could hurt.
But fire could provide heat and safety and comfort, too. He just needed a chance to prove that he could be a good dragon, if they'd only let him be more than... Twilight's number one assistant.
Marina gently patted his shoulder, and Spike looked up at her with an awkward smile. She smiled back as if she understood just what he was thinking about, but she only said: “Thank you.”
“No problem.” Spike stretched a bit, and then he asked: “Have you seen the girls? I haven't really been paying attention, I guess. What time even is it?”
“It's still morning. I don't know where they are either, but since they've been coming and going as they please, I think it's probably okay.” Marina glanced away for a moment, and then she shook her head quickly. “Anyway. If you can keep an eye on the fire for a little while, I'll go see what I can dig up in terms of food.”
Spike nodded and smiled back, then watched as Marina left. He sat himself down beside the fire, then leaned back, enjoying the heat of the flames as he yawned a little.
It felt so nice. The day was clear, the ground had dried up a little, and the warmth of the flames caressed his scales and worked its way into his sore muscles, helping him to finally relax. He was more than happy to just sit and doze and stoke the flames...
Spike shifted a bit, then settled down beside the flames, his eyes growing heavy, but he swore he wasn't going to sleep even as he lay down. He wiggled into a more comfortable position, and his eyes opened, and shut; flickered, then opened, and shut...
Spike blinked blearily as something shook him, and then he grimaced and pushed himself up a sitting position before he blanched at the sight of the dying fire. He winced and looked quickly back to see Marina standing over him, the little dragon blurting: “I'm sorry, I must have-”
“Have you seen the girls?” asked Marina, much more anxiously, and Spike blinked. As he tried to process what she had just asked, Marina shook her head and continued worriedly: “It's been three hours now, and they haven't come back yet. I can't sense them nearby, either. I think something might have happened to them?”
“What could happen out here?” Spike asked, but he knew better than most just how much trouble your average pony could get into in any seemingly-innocuous place... and those fillies are exceptional when it comes to getting into trouble. “Maybe... they probably got lost, but we shouldn't have too much trouble tracking them down-”
“What if something worse happened, though? I should have been paying attention to them, they're just fillies!” Marina blurted out, and then she shook her head and rubbed at her face, mumbling: “I screwed up. I ruined things, and-”
“Okay, hey, whoa there. Let's not get carried away now.” Spike said quickly, wincing a bit as he held up his claws in supplication. “You can't blame yourself for them running off. They're not just fillies anymore, they're almost mares. And even when they were just fillies, they were still almost impossible to keep track of.”
“Then I should have done better. There could be anything out there, Spike. And I'm here, and that means...” Marina broke off, then visibly reined herself in, clenching her eyes tightly.
“Shut up.” Moonbeam said shortly, and Spike winced as Marina flinched, looking up at the unicorn as she approached. “Let's go and find them so we can finally eat.”
“But-”
“Enough.” Moonbeam interrupted, and Marina lowered her head as the mare continued rudely: “You got in over your head, like you always do. So now you have to fix things, like you always do. But you always do, once you stop worrying and being stupid. So stop it, and let's fix this.”
“O-Okay.” Marina said after a moment, taking a breath and steadying herself, and she smiled a little after a moment even as Spike cocked his head towards Moonbeam, wondering if he'd missed something in that exchange.
Still, there was no time to think about that, as he asked: “Marina, can you track them at all? You used to be a scout, right?”
“Oh, I... yes. Actually...” Marina hesitated, then she closed one eye and concentrated, and the other eye seemed to flash as she bit her lip and muttered: “That still hurts. I can track them with this, too. But the problem is there are hoofprints and traces of them all over the place: I don't know which way to go...”
Spike had no idea what 'this' was, but he decided not to ask questions for now, instead closing his eyes and thinking.
The girls had already been gone when he had started the fire. They had been in and out of the campsite all morning. He hadn't been paying much attention, but he thought he remembered that at some point he had seen Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle come back... but Apple Bloom hadn't been with them. He hadn't really thought anything of it then: the girls were unpredictable chaos, and they hadn't seemed very anxious. He half-remembered Sweetie trilling 'this way!' or something to that effect...
“That way.” Spike pointed at a narrow path through the trees. “Sweetie and Scootaloo went that way. I think they were going after Apple Bloom.”
“Good work stopping them.” Moonbeam remarked, and Spike scowled at the laconic mare before the unicorn turned and strode quickly off, muttering: “I'm going to kill those mares when I find them. And I'm never going on another 'camping trip' again.”
“Fine by me.” Spike muttered to himself, and then he smiled awkwardly up at Marina when she blushed and looked away, shifting uncomfortably on her hooves. “You better take the lead. See if you can track them with your uh... thing.”
“Yes, of course.” Marina nodded and quickly ran ahead, giving Moonbeam an embarrassed smile as she passed, and Spike brought up the rear, lingering a little and avoiding getting too close to Moonbeam.
Once they got going, Marina seemed to somehow know where to go: Spike guessed that was due to whatever 'thing' she had mentioned. At first, it seemed like they were just following a natural trail through the forest, and Spike could easily imagine how the girls could have come this way and wandered a little too far-
“Oh no.” came a murmur from ahead, and Spike looked up, hurrying forwards to join Marina and Moonbeam beside a branch with a torn piece of ribbon wrapped around it...
“Apple Bloom?” Spike whispered, before he grimaced and cupped his hands around his mouth, shouting: “Apple Bloom! Sweetie Belle! Scootaloo!”
There was no answer: just a ruffled cawing from above, and Spike cursed under his breath as Marina suddenly lowered her head, pawing through the underbrush as Moonbeam muttered: “Great. We need to go get help, we need to-”
“No.” Marina said: she was quiet but firm, and Moonbeam looked at her in surprise before the chocolate-coated mare rose her head, shivering a bit as she said: “There are pawprints here. Apple Bloom was taken. It looks like by Diamond Dogs.”
“Diamond Dogs?” Moonbeam said disbelievingly, and then she shook her head, looking back and forth as she shifted from hoof-to-hoof. “No, then we have to go. We have to leave and get help and-”
“No!” Marina almost shouted, and Moonbeam winced and stared at her with surprise as Spike blinked and stared at the mare, shocked by her change in demeanor.
But Marina caught herself, taking a deep breath before she said in a voice that trembled only a little: “No. Diamond Dogs can move very quickly, and who knows how long she's already been gone? You and Spike should go for help, but I need to go after them before they get away.”
“Are you crazy or just stupid?” Moonbeam snapped, but she was agitated more than angry, continuing to shift from hoof-to-hoof as she tried her damnedest to glare. “Diamond Dogs never travel alone, and if a pack of them took those fillies, they're... they're gone! They're gone, and that's it, and all we can do now is-”
“No.” Marina said quietly, and she shook her head resolutely, visibly firming herself as she repeated: “No. I can... I'm going after them and that's that and I don't have time to argue. This might be the only chance I have to catch up and... I'm going.
“Spike, please take care of Moonbeam.” Marina said, and before her resolution could crumble, before anyone could convince her otherwise, she turned and leapt off into the underbrush, her mechanical legs carrying her quickly away even as Moonbeam shouted after her and Spike helplessly rose a claw.
Marina plowed through the underbrush, following the readings from her cybernetic eye. She was perversely thankful yet again for all she had been through: if the attack on Canterlot had never failed, if she had never lost her limbs and her eye, she never would have been found by Octavia, never saved, never taught what it meant to be a pony, and she never would have been able to help her new friends with her skills alone.
But who knew? Maybe if none of that had ever happened, they would all be in a better place...
No, she had to focus.
Marina ducked under a branch, then leapt over a log: her mechanical legs carried her body like liquid, more agile than her flesh and blood limbs had ever been. They never tired, and they let her cross the deepest mire with barely a ripple, just as they allowed her to kick off a tree with enough force to crack the heavy oak, propelling herself across a gap with ease.
She skidded to a stop as her eye picked up a new reading, and Marina shivered as her nostrils picked it up a moment later. She slowly approached, studying the splash of crimson across the face of a root silently: blood.
There was enough here that it had to be from a fair-sized wound... but the lack of droplets or splatter told her it probably wasn't deep. Maybe a pony had tripped, and then been forcefully dragged over the root, leaving a deep scrape...
Diamond Dogs were always rough with their cargo. That was why Changelings preferred to get their prey themselves, instead of hiring the mercenary race.
Marina shook her head sharply: no, she was leaping to conclusions. There was no reason for there to be Changelings here, and she hadn't sensed or seen any sign of them, and she was... she was always watching for Changelings these days.
Marina took a slow breath, steadying herself before she winced as there was a sharp beep before Octavia said, as calm and firm as if this was a mission: “Report.”
“Apple Bloom and her friends are missing. I think... I'm sure they were taken by Diamond Dogs. I don't know why or how, though, or even when. I'm in pursuit.” Marina said as professionally as she could.
Octavia was by no means her commanding officer and Marina still had no intention of joining the Equestrian military: she had too many of her own demons to deal with yet to be any real use out in the field, she thought. But the protocols were soothing to her: it was easy to fall back into following the chain of command, and taking orders felt safer than making her own decisions.
“Ponies and Diamond Dogs have clashed on more than one occasion, as I'm sure you're aware, Marina.” Octavia answered in her cool tones from the communicator built into Marina's prosthetic forelimb. “This could be a territorial dispute or a kidnapping by a local pack, most likely as a ransom for gemstones.”
Marina nodded as she took a breath, then turned to continue following the trail of residue, asking: “What should I do?”
“I'll inform local authorities.” Octavia answered. “Keep following them, but do not move to engage, you could put the fillies at risk.”
“Okay.” Marina hesitated, then almost blurted out: “What if it's Change-”
“Stay focused, Marina. And stay quiet: Diamond Dogs aren't very bright, but they have exceptional senses. Contact me when you find them.” Octavia steamrollered, and Marina was honestly glad that she had, because it forced herself to take a breath and calm down.
“Okay. I will.” Marina said, even knowing that Octavia had likely already cut the communications link. But it was more for herself than it was for Octavia, anyway: she needed to remind herself she wasn't alone, and there was somepony watching over her.
Marina faced ahead and plunged forward through the forest, hoping that she could do something to save the fillies she felt like she had failed, and fighting desperately against the anxiety worming in her gut that warned her this was only the beginning.
Spike grumbled as he kicked at the firepit: he had already packed up some of the loose ends of the campsite, but he didn't want to take down too much of it in case Marina came back with the girls.
He knew that wasn't going to happen, though. Something in the pit of his stomach boiled and curdled, and he wished that he could do something, anything, to help Marina, to-
“We just... need to go.” Moonbeam muttered, and Spike looked up: the unicorn had dropped her rump at the far end of the campsite and refused to do anything while he had listlessly kicked and moved things around.
But now, in a sudden burst of energy, she leapt to her hooves and seized a nearby pack, gathering the garbage that had accumulated around her and shoving it all in carelessly, without even bothering to look at what she was grabbing, as she snapped: “Come on, we have to go! Let's go, kid! I want to get out of here, so we're going to leave, right now, and Marina can... can...”
Moonbeam sputtered out, staring at the bag floating in her telekinetic grip, and Spike sighed a little before he walked over to her and gently took the bag out of her magic hold. He set it down and carefully pulled a branch that she had accidentally shoved into the bag free, and he studied this for a moment before he bit his lip, then looked up and said: “I'm going to go after her.”
It was the only thing he could think of to do. He had to help, he had to do something, and just running and telling the park ranger wasn't enough. He had to follow Marina and help her however he possibly could.
Moonbeam stared at him incredulously, and then she bared her teeth at him before shouting: “No! Don't be an idiot! We are getting out of here right now and I am not going to be dragged into playing hero along with you and that idiot!”
“You can go.” Spike mumbled, and when Moonbeam leaned in towards him with a scowl, he forced himself to look up and repeat in a braver voice: “You can go, Moonbeam, you... you should go. Go tell the ranger or whoever you can find what happened, but... I'm going after Marina.”
It was hard to stand up to a pony, to any pony, but god, did it feel good once he got it out. Spike looked down at the pack in his claws, and then he dropped it before he began to quickly dig through it as Moonbeam stared at him, before she shouted: “Well, fine! I will!”
With that, she stormed away, but Spike heard her stop at the edge of the camp. He ignored her, however, as he emptied the pack of everything unnecessary before he began to scrounge around the campsite for anything useful he could find.
Eventually, though, he was forced to look in Moonbeam's direction, and he saw she was trembling where she stood, facing away from the campsite and staring in the direction of Ponyville. Of home, and safety. And he couldn't blame her for that, as he sighed a little before starting: “Moonbeam-”
“I don't want your pity.” Moonbeam whispered, and then she clenched her eyes shut before she turned and glared at him through the faint shimmer of tears in her eyes. “I'm not going to be left alone out here and I'm not your messenger girl. Let's find Marina and those stupid ponies and then we're getting out of here. Clear?”
“Okay.” Spike said as gently as he could, and Moonbeam nodded shortly to him before she turned back away, rubbing silently at her eyes with the back of her hoof.
He didn't understand her. Well, that was a lie, he did, a little. She was bitter and angry, and he understood that. He just didn't understand the why.
Spike shook his head briefly as he finished repacking the rucksack: he hoped dearly this was just going to be a quick hike, but he knew by now to prepare for everything. What was it Marina had said? Prepare for the worst, hope for the best.
He smiled briefly, then looked over at Moonbeam, saying awkwardly: “Let's uh... let's go.”
Moonbeam didn't respond, but she did turn towards him, and Spike shrugged after a moment before he turned around and started back towards Marina, trying to keep a good pace. He knew that time was precious, and that Marina would be moving much faster than them: on the bright side, he was confident she would be able to catch up to the Diamond Dogs, but on the down side... if she got there, and they weren't close by, how could they hope to help?
Spike grimaced and shifted the pack as Moonbeam stalked along behind him, already grumbling under her breath as she stumbled here and there through the underbrush. Spike couldn't help but look back at her, half-tempted to tell her to hurry up, but also wondering uneasily if she was going to be able to keep up the pace for long: she already seemed like she was getting tired.
But Moonbeam was stoic, and even though she was panting by the time they reached the point of the trail where Marina had broken away from them, she didn't say anything and did her best to hide the stress this was clearly having on her body.
Spike pushed through the underbrush Marina had jumped through, his sharp eyes sliding across the ground in front of him and noting the path she had taken: it was easy enough to see, thanks to the indents left by her mechanical legs, and the broken branches and underbrush she had recklessly plowed through.
He slowed down a little, just enough that he could make sure he was following the right path, and Moonbeam grumbled as she fell into pace behind him, looking uneasily back and forth as she muttered: “This is stupid. We still have time to turn back.”
“You're free to.” Spike grumbled almost carelessly, and then he winced when Moonbeam stepped forwards and bodychecked him, staggering to the side and glaring at her even as he shrank a bit instinctively.
“Look, dragon, you might be able to get away with mouthing off to Marina and those other ponies, but I'm...” And then Moonbeam halted, shifting nervously as she looked back and forth as the trees rustled around them.
Spike frowned uneasily as well as the branches stirred and moved, but then he forced himself to take a breath before he said quietly: “We need to keep moving. For all we know, we might be in danger too, okay?”
“Diamond Dogs might have sent another pack back, maybe... no, there's no way I'm going to be a prisoner again.” Moonbeam muttered, shivering for a moment as she glared back and forth, and then she bit her lip before she looked down at Spike. And even though it was clearly painful for her, she nodded shortly before she gestured sharply with her head at him.
Spike nodded back before he turned to lead her onward, even as branches shifted and rustled around them. Moonbeam lowered herself until she was almost crawling after Spike, who slowed his own pace considerably to make as little noise as possible.
He knew they were being stupid: those branches rustling could be from an animal, from the wind, from a hundred other things, but now that he was thinking about how it could be the Diamond Dogs, the only thing it could possibly be in his mind were Diamond Dogs, or Changelings, or perhaps something even worse. He didn't know what was worse than either of those things, but he also certainly didn't want to find out.
Eventually, the branches stopped rustling, and soon after that the forest thinned a little, letting them see where they were headed. But it also made Spike acutely aware that the sun was starting to go down above: he guessed it didn't feel like that much time had passed purely because of the anxiety keeping him on edge. But at this rate, they were going to have to find a place to set up camp...
Spike paused, then frowned uneasily as he slowed to a stop at a crevice that cut across their path. He looked back and forth, but he couldn't see the end of the gouge through the earth in either direction: all he could see were a few trees that had been shoved across the gorge to create makeshift bridges. He noted that one of these had several tears in the surface of the bark... would Marina's hooves do that?
He bit his lip, then looked back, unsurprised, when Moonbeam snapped: “I am not crossing that.”
“Then you have to go back from here, Moonbeam. I have to keep going.” Spike said. He didn't know why or when it had become so important, but at this point he felt like he didn't have a choice. There was no going back: there was only going forward.
Moonbeam hissed through her teeth at him, but then she dropped her head and nodded with a curse. Spike smiled at her as reassuringly as he could, then he turned and took a breath, settling the pack on his back as he announced: “I'll go first.”
Saying it out loud didn't make it any easier or give him the resolve he hoped it would. Instead, he still wobbled in place for a few moments before he forced himself to head out to one of the fallen trees, grimacing a bit as he got down on all fours and crawled out over the wide surface. The bark was a little slippery, and he shivered as he made his way along the length before he gave in to the wicked temptation to shift slightly so he could look down-
It wasn't an endless chasm. There was a very clear, very solid end at the bottom of the gorge, and Spike gasped as he clung to the tree and gritted his teeth, before he grimaced when Moonbeam shouted behind him: “What are you doing?”
“N-Nothing. Just... don't look down and be careful. It's slippery.” Spike managed, and then he forced himself to crawl forwards another foot, even as his whole body trembled, and oh god, what if he fell? What if he slipped, what if the tree gave out, what if he fell and worst of all, what if he didn't die and instead he was left there, in pain, alone, dying alone until-
The tree shifted and creaked, and Spike gasped and flinched as he looked back over his shoulder to see Moonbeam was forcing herself out onto the bridge, the dragon almost screaming: “What are you doing?”
“Crossing.” Moonbeam muttered as she forced herself out onto the tree. Spike clutched helplessly into the bark of the makeshift bridge, hyperventilating as he felt the tree shift under their combined weight as Moonbeam slowly began to inch towards him.
“S-Stop! Stop!” Spike was panting, giving in to panic. God, why had he thought he could do this? He was stupid and he was panicking and he just had to be the big dragon, but no, he wasn't anything but a newt, but a-
“Move or I'll kick you off this tree.” Moonbeam muttered, and there was such a promise in that voice that it forced Spike to scrabble at the tree and jerk himself forwards, crawling as fast as he could to the other side before he flung himself off with a gasp, hitting the ground and rolling to a stop.
Less than a minute later, Moonbeam crawled carefully off the tree herself, breathing slowly and shaking herself out before she grimaced and looked down at Spike with contempt. Spike looked away, ashamed and rubbing at his teary eyes, before the mare said shortly: “Suck it up.”
“Why are you such a...” Spike stopped, then he caught himself before he could yell or scream or sob, and he instead took a rattling breath before he forced his trembling legs under him, glaring up at her before he nodded and said finally: “Let's... let's go.”
They turned and trudged onward, and Spike lowered his head and did his best to pretend Moonbeam wasn't there as he reflected on his failure. On how he had sworn he was going to be helpful, on how he thought he could just run off and help Marina, like this was some silly adventure...
He couldn't, could he? If there was a fight, he couldn't help. If the Diamond Dogs weren't like the tame pack outside of Ponyville, he couldn't help. If he had to cross another stupid gorge, he probably couldn't help. His first trial, and he had frozen up and nearly failed, and after all the pushing and prodding he had done to Moonbeam, after how he'd just about dragged her along on this stupid little game of his, that wasn't really a game at all...
He looked back at her, then he shamefully and hurriedly looked away when she looked up. And they trudged onwards in silence as Spike did his best to continue to follow Marina's trail, until the sun began to set, and darkness began to set in around them.
They were still in forest: it was a thinner, less-welcoming forest than the one they had been in before, though. The trees looked starved and sickly, and the branches were like grasping claws, reaching out as if for help, or to seize passersby and wring them of their fortune. But it was still confusing and dark enough that once the sun was gone, the moon and stars couldn't cast enough light to let them travel safely, let alone to allow Spike to continue to find the ever-fading trail of Marina.
“We're going to have to stop.” Spike said, and he hated admitting that. Doubly so because he knew Marina's trail would be cold by morning, and worse yet because he didn't know if he could find the way back to their campsite.
What had he done?
He shivered and shook his head, but to his surprise, Moonbeam only nodded and flicked her horn, and several small, silvery balls of light condensed around them, floating silently, like willowisps. Spike looked up at one of these, watching as it danced and swayed through the air above them, before he winced when Moonbeam nudged him and said shortly: “Set up camp. I hope you brought food and water. But don't start a fire.”
Spike nodded briefly, and then he threw off his pack and dug through it. He pulled out a canteen, and he hesitated for a moment before offering it first to Moonbeam, who took it with a grudging grunt and a short look over him.
He wondered silently what Marina was doing for food, as he passed some of what little they had left to Moonbeam, along with a blanket. She took both, eating the food in silence and wrapping herself in the blanket as Spike took the canteen back, but he only regarded it for a moment before starting to put it away-
“Don't get dehydrated. I don't want to carry you.” Moonbeam said, and Spike looked up at her. He didn't know what to say: he wanted to snap at her for being so disagreeable, but he couldn't help but notice that she was paying attention to him, too. Was that her way of showing, that somewhere in there, she cared?
He didn't have the energy to figure it out. So he only nodded, and drank a little water, before putting the canteen away and rolling out his bedroll. He sat for a few minutes, but then he simply pulled out his blanket and wrapped himself in it, and Moonbeam took that as her cue to dispel the light she had summoned, those embers of magic flickering out one after the other.
The temperature dropped quickly, and Spike hated that they didn't have a fire, or a tent, or anything to survive, and he hated himself for putting them in this situation. He guessed he was still a child: eternally a baby dragon.
Pathetic.
He almost wished they didn't find Marina. That they just stayed lost until Marina saved the day, and maybe then the ponies could find them, and they'd bring them back to Ponyville, and he'd remember his place from now on, he'd remember why they never let him grow up and why they never gave him responsibilities and how-
“Stop it.” Moonbeam muttered from across their little campsite, and Spike rose his head slightly, the tears on his cheeks gleaming in the little light that filtered down from the dismal sky above. “You're doing the same thing Marina always does. Doubting. Crying yourself to sleep. You're a loser. You're pathetic.”
“I know.” Spike whispered, trembling and looking away.
“Good. But you dragged us out here, too, and tomorrow you have a chance to not be so stupid.” Moonbeam said quietly, and Spike rose his head a little again, biting his lip. “Just find Marina. That's all I ask. Just... find Marina.”
“Yeah. I... I will.” Spike promised after a moment, and he closed his eyes as he settled down into his bedroll, feeling a turbulent storm twisting inside his stomach, unsure of what he could possibly do, but determined to somehow honor his promise.
Spike settled: in spite of his stress and anxiety, he was exhausted, and it was only a few minutes before he fell asleep. Moonbeam, on the other hoof, shifted silently before she sat up, pulling the blanket around herself and looking silently around through the darkness.
She would keep watch tonight while the dragon slept. She could catch an hour or so of sleep before dawn. It was better that way, anyway: this way, she avoided the nightmares. When she was awake, she could block most of them out, but when she slept, oh...
Moonbeam shook her head, then she silently looked at the little dragon, studying him for a few moments before she lowered her head with a sigh.
She hoped they would find Marina. She hoped they could find and save the girls. She hoped that nothing bad had happened, even if she could never express it.
Hope, after all, was for losers like Spike and Marina.