An articulate, reedy, and altogether intellectual voice emerged from a tree far to the right. “Whoa! I have been preserved and you are my savior. A million thank-you’s, friend of mine!” The language spoken used long, unsightly hisses and yelps as its form of communication. Luckily, the Babel Fish cared not whether the language included even blood-belching, and it translated everything as quickly as the words rolled off the forked tongue. As the rescued creature came closer, jogging now, little glints of sunlight reflected off individual scales and hit her eyes, forcing her to squint.
“Um—hi there,” whispered Fluttershy, her insubstantial voice hardly finding the air in her lungs to transmit itself. She had not spoken since her arrival, and singing did not assist her first tentative steps of elocution. Fluttershy widened her eyes and craned her neck down partly in submission and partly to speak with the new face, which was hoisted only a half-meter above the ground by turquoise scales and a stocky build. In fact, as she pawed at the onrushing water apprehensively, she recognized that the figure somewhat resembled someone she had come to know in her previous life: Spike.
This, however, was not Spike. As opposed to Spike’s bright color palette and springy step, whatever she had just saved was the custodian of a dull set of turquoises that blended in with the trees, the rocks, and the mud. In addition, whereas Spike had bulging eyes, cumbersome fins, and a round face, the features of whatever was standing gratefully in front of her were not limited to angled eyes with slit-pupils, slim prongs no more than a few inches tall interspersed at short intervals across the brow and back, and a long face along with a mouth truncating in two prominent fangs. When what must have been twenty pounds came to greet her, the weighted fellow slinked along deliberately and efficiently, making little noise despite his relative bulk. If not for the cordial demeanor he displayed, or the fact that she had just faced two much more imposing obstructions, Fluttershy would have run at that moment.
“Again, thank you ever so much for orchestrating my emancipation,” gurgling words coherently despite not fitting the lips. “I would have never expected a bear to come this close to civilization! They tend to stay away from people.” One of the dragon-birds overhead let out an impatient squawk.
“Uh—civilization?” Fluttershy surveyed the pristine water, the untouched rocks, and the naturally overgrown undergrowth.
“You must be new here,” the creature asserted, breathing life into the fading conversation. The fuzzy, squishy creature in front of him was clearly thrown for a loop. “Is anything at odds with your perception of reality, you Perceptive Doors?” he added, with a clearly forced but well-intentioned smile.
“It’s just—just that there aren’t any houses or buildings or ponies around. It doesn’t fit ‘civilization’.”
“You see, we have a village here. In small thanks for saving me, I could bring you there and request that the Chief allow you to stay with us in the village,” the dragon-person hissed and gargled in a most friendly manner.
The answer came in her usual voice, a light profusion of aural silkiness that seemed to emanate not from her voice box, but from the cream in her hair: “Oh, well… I’d be ever so grateful if you could do that for me. I don’t know how long I’d stay or what I could do, but I’ll try my very best. I mean, if that’s alright with the Chief.”
“By the way, I’m Tharur.”
“Oh. That’s a beautiful name,” She especially annunciated the first syllable in ‘beautiful’, “I’m Fluttershy. I mean—if that’s alright with you.”
“Perfectly copacetic, albeit onerous to articulate.”