Dragon and “hedgehog” walked through the forest, not encountering much on the way. They saw some abandoned houses and shops, also several trails here and there, but there was no one else besides them and the local wildlife.
“You’re from here?” Smolder asked about ten minutes in.
“No. I’m from an island down south.”
“What island?”
“You know...” Grubber twiddled his thumbs together, “that island with the mountains and the water and the lightning clouds. We enjoyed the life out there until I got banned and then...yeah, that.”
“A troublemaker?” Smolder smiled. “I like that!”
“I wouldn’t personally call myself a ‘troublemaker’,” he said in a sing-song way. “I’d call myself a professional...”
“Troublemaker?”
Grubber put his tongue out, still thinking. “Maybe.”
A minute passed silently as they walked, seeing nothing more than new trees which looked pretty much the same. The sun was higher in the sky now; it was getting hotter.
“So, what did you do?” Smolder asked.
“What do you mean? My old life back in the island or what got me kicked out?”
She thought about it. “Both.”
Grubber laughed, holding on to his belly. “You better pick up a seat because it’s story time for you...but, don’t take a seat because you’re looking for your hippogriff friend and she’s probably lost as well—but, if she isn’t lost then she might be...um, far away to the point that...uh—“
“I get it, now what’s your story?”
Grubber raised his short arms to the air and dropped them. "As I said, I’m Grubber, and I’m what everyone calls a hedgehog. My friends were like that, too, but they’re taller than me, like, a lot. They were hunky and could bat strong dragons like you to the sea from miles away. Used to serve the Storm King ‘till he accidentally shot himself with his magical staff and we got...uh, nothing to do. Tried building buildings, doing ordinary stuff, but it wasn’t the same without him.”
He looked up to the sky, seeing the wide open blue above. “I wanted to make the greatest cake in the world because I was bored. Cherries on top, chocolate flavored, oozing with chocolate and more chocolate...it would’ve been the biggest achievement of my life.”
“Your biggest achievement in life is making a cake?” Smolder asked, stunned.
“It would be more than a cake,” Grubber said, raising a finger. “It would be the greatest cake in the world. Nothing could top it...except for cherries, but you get what I mean...I hope….”
Smolder looked at him close. “Is that why you got kicked out?”
Grubber smiled, picked up a twig to clean his teeth with. “You got me good!”
“Let me guess. Troublemaker? Stole all the sugar and flour?”
“It wasn’t exactly stealing,” Grubber said with a tinge of anxiety, spitting on the branch and throwing it back to the trail. “It’s, uh...I was secretly borrowing them, but I meant to give it back when it’s all done. Besides, they weren’t using it anyway, and it was going to rot, so someone had to use it for good.”
Smolder giggled, stopping to pick up the twig to burn the sharp end of it, making it a throwaway torch. “You’re telling me you got kicked out because you wanted to make a big cake? This is classic!”
“It’s not classic if everyone abandoned you and forced you to sail away from your home!” Grubber shouted. Then, calming himself down by combing his mohawk: “Anyway, please ignore what I just said because I’m not the guy who usually gets angry—ahem!—I mean, usually, with a...’y’ in the end.”
Smolder rolled her eyes, waving the torch around, seeing the flame go left and right in the air. “Do you talk like that all the time?”
“Some say it’s a self-defense kind of thing,” Grubber answered, twiddling with his thumbs again. “You know what I say? I say it’s me. My attitude, my personality, my...way of rolling, ‘cause that’s how I roll.”
The two walked without a word once more for a few more minutes. Then, they came across a sign by the trail which said: “Caution! Do not go further without necessary preparation!”
Grubber stopped the dragon by running in front of her. “OK, there has to be another way! We can’t risk our lives and—“
Smolder sighed and pointed at the other paths nearby with her torch. “You think this is a dead end?”
Grubber looked at those other paths. “Oh. Right. Must’ve been blinded by a, uh...myself.”
They took down another path and passed by denser trees, the sky becoming wrapped in branches and leaves as they saw sleeping owls and crawling caterpillars.
“Why do they call it ‘trail mix’ anyway?” Grubber inquired. “It’s peanuts, grains, fruit, chocolate, candy...it’s crunchy sweets and sweet crunchies." He picked up some dirt and held it in his hand. "It’s not like they took actual trail and mixed it, right?”
“It’s not,” was Smolder’s reassuring reply which made the hedgehog sigh in awkward relief.
“Wow. Thanks for that! That’s because I have, uh...” and took out several trail mix bars from his hair. “Here! Trail mix made by my islanders! It’s filled with preservatives, so it may not be, um, healthy, but it gets the job done.”
Smolder grabbed the bar and inspected it.
It was a horrible trail mix bar. While the ingredients were in there, tons of salt and sugar had been sprinkled on it.
Smolder looked at Grubber, confused. “Why would you add preservatives?”
“Don’t fruits also rot?”
“They’re dried, Grubber." She pointed at the trail bars for emphasis. "They’re not supposed to rot for a long time.”
“And the nuts and other stuff?”
Smolder groaned. “Do you see any ants on your bars?”
“No, but—“
The dragon took a bite of the bar and spit it out, wiping her tongue from the overwhelming taste on her buds. “What?! How could you ruin trail mix?!”
“It wasn’t my fault!” Grubber lashed out, almost falling to the dirt trail beneath his feet. “It's their idea to rinse good food with bad salt and sugar! I had absolutely nothing to do with their horrible opinions on good food!”
“If you think you’re better than them,” Smolder said with two crossed arms and one upset attitude, “then why don’t you stop talking about yourself and help me find Silverstream?!”
“If you wanted to find your friend so much, then why do you keep asking me about my history—“
“Could you keep it down?” asked a voice from behind the trees.
Smolder and Grubber looked at the shadowy darkness from beyond the bark. “Uh, wh-who’s that?” Grubber asked, teeth clattering. “Are you going to eat us? If so—“ took the half-finished bar from Smolder’s hand “—please take this! I don’t taste good!”
The bushes there rustled, and then out came a changeling.
Grubber screamed and jumped his way to Smolder’s head, taking cover behind her ears.
“Hey!” the dragon shouted, looking up at the hedgehog. “It’s just one changeling! I can take him on easy!”
“Wait!” yelled the said changeling, holding up a sleeping grub. “Don’t hit me! Don’t hit me!”
Smolder cocked her head. “Yeah, and why?”
He returned the grub to his back, keeping a good distance from the dragon. “The name’s Thorax and I mean no harm! I don’t work for Chrysalis...not anymore. I just want to live a normal life!”
Smolder took a step forward, examining the changeling’s face—those wavering eyes, those drooping ears, those spotless teeth. Not minding the extra weight on her head provided by her hedgehog buddy, she said: “Why should I trust you? How should I know you’re not putting up an act?”
“What do you want me to do?" Thorax begged, about to kneel down on the ground. "I’ll do anything if you could just leave me alone!”
Smolder scratched her chin. “Let’s see….”
Grubber grabbed her ear and whispered, “Why don’t you ask him about the hippogriff?”
“Why would he know about Silverstream?!” Smolder shouted. “If he knows, then he's getting love from her!”
“I’m n-not!” Thorax cried out.
Smolder raised both of her brows, turning to him. “You know where Silverstream is?”
He shook his head. “N-No...but I saw a hippogriff fly around here an hour ago. Is that Silverstream?”
“Yeah,” Grubber said. “That’s probably the—“
Smolder threw Grubber down from his head and approached Thorax. “What’s the color of her feathers?”
“Pink!” was his immediate answer.
“Then it’s Silverstream alright,” Smolder said, helping up a Grubber whose face was covered in dirt. Then, facing Thorax with a hard nose: “Do us a favor and find her. We’ll leave you alone, but if you try any funny business on us...” she punched two of her fists together under her glare.
Thorax gulped. “I-I promise.”
“...which is how I ended up angering a bunch of seaponies with my hair,” Grubber finished as they trudged through the forest, seeing different trees but that did not matter because they were pretty much still the same trees with pretty much the same birds. The day had advanced, it got even hotter than before, but everything looked and felt the same although now it's windy again, the trees swaying under the breeze. “They’re going to be so mad if I go back to Basalt Beach. They’ll be saying, ‘Grubber, you’re so bad!’, and I’ll be like, ‘So what? I got trail mix!”
Thorax turned to Smolder, carrying the sleeping grub on his back. “Is he always like this?”
“I think…?” Smolder said, not looking at the changeling. “He’s annoying, but I can take it.”
“Hey! You say I’m annoying?” Grubber said with a jump, leaving two deep footprints on the trail. “I’m not ashamed of it! I’m annoying and proud!”
Thorax giggled. “I can see why you got kicked out.”
Grubber groaned. “They’re useless with or without me! They could tease my height all day long, but when I come back, they’ll see I’ve made...uh...something…uh, something worth considering…” and tapped the tips of his fingers nervously as they walked.
Smolder took a hop ahead of him and walked beside Thorax. “Is there really no one here besides us and Silverstream?”
Thorax nodded. “I’ve stayed here for half a day. Other than your hippogriff friend, we’re the only ones here.”
“Then how are you able to get love?” Smolder asked, opening a hand. “You must be starving.”
“I have my ways,” Thorax said. “For instance, I’m already getting love from you—“
“What?!”
“Passively!” Thorax shouted, raising his forehooves in the air, seeing Smolder put her fists up and spread her wings. “It’s passive and you won’t even feel it! There are no side effects 'cause I only get a fraction of it like nothing happened. You don’t have to kill me—please, don’t kill me right now!” and he shrank away, grub on his back still sleeping.
Smolder stared at him, crossing her arms again. “Remember what I said about funny business?”
“It’s not funny business!” Thorax replied, shaking his head and his hoof in panic. “It’s the only way I could live another day! I...I….”
He sat down on the ground.
Grubber looked at the dragon. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Shush!”
And the two of them looked at Thorax as he put the grub on the ground.
Thorax stared into the distance ahead, those complex eyes losing their vigor. “When I see creatures like you, living with full stomachs, half-full stomachs, even a little full...I get jealous. Why can’t I live like that? Why? Because of this.” He pointed at himself, at his head. “I’m a changeling. The only way I could survive and thrive is to take others’ love.” He paused, grinding his teeth. “Why do we have to steal love to live? Ponies plant and harvest, you dragons grab gems from underground, even the yaks and griffons eat meat...the animals have their lives end there! Us? We have to trick you, enslave you for an average meal, and it’s...it’s something I don’t want. It hurts, it’s painful because...b-because….”
“Could you just spit it out?” Smolder asked, irritated and tapping the ground with an eager foot. “We still have a missing hippogriff to—“
“Would you be quiet?!”
Smolder zipped her mouth and sat down on the ground.
Grubber raised his hand. “Uh, is this the cue to sit down, too? Because, I remember the sign from a while ago and I don’t want to be eaten by whatever monster’s lurking over there.”
The dragon responded by smashing him down to a seated position and Grubber yowled in pain.
Thorax sighed, neglecting what had happened. “That’s how it’s been for me since the day I was born. Nothing but harming others for our good, for my good.”
“You’ve tried eating just normal food, right?” asked the dragon, becoming troubled herself.
“Mm-hmm. I wished it worked, but it didn’t. It’s like eating sugar for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Gives you energy but it doesn’t satisfy.”
Grubber licked his lips. “Oh, I’m already satisfied with having cakes and pies for the entire day!”
Thorax glanced at him. “Then you’re the exception, because it’s just not working for me. I already feel guilty for taking love from you—the both of you.” He motioned his head towards his listeners. “But, I have to….”
Thorax trailed off, looking back into the distance, the path ahead of them with its turn to the left. Several birds flew that way including some pigeons.
Smolder sighed, trying to sympathize with the changeling. “Wow. I never thought of that before.” Smolder took in a long breath. “Are there others like you?”
“I’m the only one,” was his weak reply. “I’m ostracized by my own kind, I’m hated by the creatures I want to be friends with, and that leaves me very lonely." Punctuated with a hollow sigh. "The only ones who could get me are those who don’t pay much attention to our war.” He spread his forehooves out. “So, here I am. The one and only changeling who doesn’t want to eat your love. I want to do what’s right, but guess what? I’m famished, I’m despised, and nobody wants to help me.”
“I want to help you,” Grubber said, reaching a hand out.
Thorax’s ears perked up. “Thanks, but I honestly don’t see how you could help me.”
The hedgehog lightened up. “I could bake you a cake!”
Grubber’s reply was met with a slap to the face courtesy of Smolder.
Thorax took the baby and stood up. “Well, I appreciate you listening to me, but I guess you got a friend to find.”
Smolder and Grubber stood up, the latter recovering from his blemished nose. The dragon spoke up: “What are you gonna do when we find her and leave? Maybe you can follow us back to Castnet.”
“No.” Thorax shook his head, shuddered. “It’s too risky. They’re going to kill me the moment I step hoof there.”
“I see….”
So the four of them ventured onward, Thorax looking at the snoring grub on his back.
It was close to noon and they had not seen Silverstream anywhere. Bushes and trees rustling gave false hope as they always revealed someone else—a weasel, a beetle, an otter. Calling out her name did not help either, for despite their reverberating echoes, they could hear no reply.
When noon arrived, they were sweltering and exhausted, sweat pouring down their faces. Before them was the dirt path and more different yet more same trees.
“Why would she run away?” Thorax asked, head drenched in sweat and hooves covered in mud. “Did something happen to her?”
Smolder swallowed the lump in her throat. “Something real bad. They killed her Dad on accident, thinking he was a changeling.”
Thorax gasped, stopped for a second. “That’s terrible!”
“What’s worse,” Smolder continued, gesticulating with one hand, “they figured it out too late. There was a changeling in the premises, but it wasn’t disguised as her Dad. It was some random dude.”
“That’s tough!” Grubber remarked, devouring another trail mix bar right after. “At least you found the changeling, so you have no worries whatsoever!”
Smolder glared at him, his gaze lasered on that smile. “You’re very insensitive.”
Grubber raised his hands in resignation. “I could relate!”
“How could leaving your home relate to having your Dad killed because everyone thought he was a spy?”
“It’s the same thing!” rambled Grubber, gesturing with one more bar. “I’m telling ya’, losing your home is like losing your father, because your home, uh, takes care of you and your father does exactly that...uh, identical stuff that your home does because they are...one and the same but n-not really but—ugh, you win, dragon, you win! Here!” and gave the bar to Smolder.
“Yuck! I’m not having a bite of that again!”
Thorax offered an open hoof. “What about you give one of those bars to me? I could find a way to make it better.”
Smolder laughed at the idea. “How?”
Thorax yanked the bar out of Grubber’s hands—“Hey! That’s mine!”—and licked the salt and sugar out of the bar. He flew over to a nearby creek, washed as much of his saliva from it as possible, and dried it by the wind. Thorax returned to the group with a supposedly clean granola bar and hoofed it to the dragon.
The dragon responded with “You made it worse.”
“I don’t know about you,” Thorax started, smiling on his own, “but I think I made it better. If the problem was too much taste, then I removed the excess.”
“You could’ve just cleaned it without, um, putting your saliva all over.”
“I like condiments,” Thorax said, keeping up that smile.
A nearby bush rustled.
All three of them looked at the bush, leaves falling off.
“What was that?” Thorax whispered, anxious.
They were all silent as they looked at the bush.
It shook, it rustled.
Then, it screamed: “Did someone say ‘condiments’?!”
Smolder let out a “Huh?”
A figure jumped out and flew into the air. “Hi, guys!” Silverstream greeted with a wave, the hippogriff stretching her wings open.
Thorax gulped. “A-Are you the hippogriff we’re looking for?”
“Why, yes!” Silverstream said, joyful.
“Wait a minute,” Smolder said, putting her guard up. “How come you’re not surprised we have a changeling?”
“Long story short,” began Silverstream over the ground, flapping her wings, “I got caught up with my emotions. I figured out I couldn’t make it out of this forest without you, Smolder! What I did was, I knew you were going to find me, so I searched the forest looking for you, but I didn’t want to surprise you and give you a heart attack because that would be bad. When I finally spotted you, there was that weird gray thing—“
“I’m right here!” Grubber shouted. “You don’t have to talk like that with me around!”
“—and you also had the changeling and I was shocked because I was thinking, ‘What? Did he capture my best friend and the weird gray thing?”
Giving up, Grubber relegated to just sighing and sitting on the dirt.
“But, when I heard Thorax’s really sad story, I knew he was the real deal! The only thing left for me to do was to find a way to walk up to you without making you faint, so I sneaked around in the bushes and I was attracted by the granola bars you’ve had over there! I was wondering what that white stuff all over it was, though, so I stayed quiet and when I saw it was salt and sugar, I had no choice but to make a joke and jump out and that’s how we got here!”
Silverstream landed on the ground.
Smolder smiled and turned to Thorax. “It’s nice knowing you. Don’t you want to come with us?”
Thorax shook his head. “Uh, n-no. Didn’t I say they’d kill me if they see me?”
“I can explain everything to my cousin and my aunt back in Mount Aris!” Silverstream said.
“A-Aris?!” Thorax repeated. “Your queen’s going to kill me before she sees me!”
“That’s why I’m going to explain it to my cousin and my aunt!” Silverstream said. “Queen Novo is my aunt, and the Princess is my cousin! My Mom’s a sister of the queen.”
Smolder did a double take. “We’re going to Mount Aris? Aren’t we supposed to be going back to Castnet?”
“Yeah, no. I don’t want to spend another day with that mean general!”
“Can I go, too?” Grubber said to the both of them. “I can get to Basalt Beach and find a way back to my island!”
Smolder shrugged her shoulders. “Uh, sure. Why not?”
Silverstream looked at Thorax who was rubbing the head of the slumbering grub. “Don’t you want to be with us?”
“It’s for the best. We’ll be fine on our own.”
They exchanged farewells and left, advancing farther into the forest.
Meanwhile, Thorax exhaled and flew off the path and into the trees’ thick shadows, escaping the sun's heat.
It was nighttime once again with its chill and its winds. Thorax was taking care of the grub by feeding it fresh water and picked berries. They were surrounded with screens of leaves constructed to shield them from being sighted. The grub maintained his smile as he gobbled up the food and drink before him.
Then, steps and talking outside.
“Sh!” Thorax placed a hoof to his lips.
The grub stopped eating and sat still.
Thorax raised his ears, picked something up:
“I can’t believe a pony’s in charge,” said the first one, his voice gruff and thick. “Imagine if he was fighting you. You’d be so conflicted—he’s a pony, but he's on the changelings’ side.”
“He’s no true pony,” the other answered, this one smoother but deeper. “He may have the same wings, but he’s not us. It’s sad to see him. What must’ve gone into his head?”
“I’ve heard that Swift River was part of the Equestrian resistance, but he got captured like the others. They must’ve treated him really good to get him on their way of thinking.”
“Does he know they’re feeding on him?”
“Definitely. There’s no way he doesn’t know about….”
And Thorax could hear no more. He sat down on the grassy ground and flattened his ears with his hooves. A frown came over him. “Did I...did I…?”