The interior of the the train car was quite nice, and familiar too. Spike took this train quite a few times in his life, although only once to Manehattan. Since there was no express train, this train was outfitted for workers and brief travelers, with somewhat small seats and complimentary newspapers. Spike tried not to look at the rack of newspapers, he really did. But it was impossible not to see the newspaper’s headline today:
Celestia’s Student Dawn Gleam Wins Unicorn Match, Donates To Charity
Spike snatched the complementary paper off of it’s rack in the train car.
The twenty-fifth annual Best Young Casters competition was won today by Celestia’s student Dawn Gleam, who finally entered. Celestia’s young protege, who had been eligible to compete for several years now, had this to say on her delay: “I had decided that I was going to only compete once, it’s hardly fair for somepony of my expert training to dominate the competition for five years.”
Upon her victory she then proceeded to donate her winnings to the Fillydelphia Flat for Fostered Foals, stating, “I have a generous personal stipend from [Princess Celestia], and no want of riches. The little ponies need this money more than I do.”
Speculation continues on whether Celestia intends to groom Dawn Gleam for princesshood like her previous protege, and have Dawn Gleam become the next Element of Magic. One particular–
Spike snorted. ‘That arrogant brat. And even worse, nopony in the press even tries to look past her obvious self-serving attitude. Ugh.’ He buried his head in the newspaper. ‘No, it’s that they don’t want to. She is playing into the hands of the press, and they’re eating it up. She’s not the next Twilight Sparkle, she’s the next Sunset Shimmer. I don’t know what Celestia is thinking, training her.
‘She’s such a brat! She wouldn’t even be able to activate the Element of Magic, and sending her out to try would be a disaster. Of course there’s always the tiny chance that somehow she’d be able to activate the elements, then everything will get really bad.’ Spike took a deep breath. ‘Calm yourself, Spike. This is exactly what you’re going to the institute to solve. If you find a new candidate for the Element of Magic, and the other Elements, the security of Equestria will be solved without a selfish arrogant brat as Magic. Even if Celestia probably thinks she’s redeemable.’
Spike steadied his breathing, closing his eyes and sighed. Peewee chirped in curiosity, snapping Spike out of his reflection. Spike reached a claw out to Peewee's cage, and Peewee nuzzled it. Spike smiled.
“Well, do you have any ideas on how to pass the time? I don't know if you knew, but it’s gonna be all day before we get there, and I doubt the conductor would be too happy with you flying around his train,” Spike said.
Pewee lowered his head and chirped in disappointment.
As the train approached its destination, it slowly accumulated passengers. Spike wasn't even one of the first on the train, but he never found himself crowded or displaced. Nopony sat near him; they huddled up to each other. Nopony bothered him with conversation, but there were lots of whispers. Nopony even looked at him, although there were always quick glances away at the edge of Spike's vision.
Spike sighed into his book and a wisp of smoke escaped from his nostrils. This caused a large amount of shuffling and murmuring. Spike stuffed his nose further into his book. Peewee chirped. Spike read his book.
Peewee chirped again and tapped at the side of his cage insistently.
Spike huffed. “What is it Peewee?” he said, and lowered his book.
There was a pink and blue filly standing directly in front of him, previously obscured by the book. She had enormous blue eyes, and was staring at Spike, standing very still. Spike glanced around nervously. Nopony else had noticed her yet.
“Y-yes?” Spike said softly.
The filly spoke up. “Mister dragon, are you going to burn the train down?” All the eyes in the cabin swung around to the filly.
Spike spoke carefully, “No, I'm not going to burn the train down.”
“Oh,” the filly replied.
The train cabin was silent.
“Then... are you going to eat us?” the filly inquired.
Spike grinned a toothy smile, and the other passengers responded with a mixture of gasps and grimaces. Spike closed his lips and settled on what he hoped was a warm grin.
“Of course not,” Spike said.
“Oh.”
More seconds passed as the filly didn't move from the spot she was planted in, and she continued to stare at Spike. A mare with a panicked expression inched towards the filly.
“So... what do you eat?” the filly said.
Spike smiled again, and turned to his bags. He rummaged through them for a few seconds, locating a sizable emerald for a snack. As he turned back the mare who’d been inching forward, probably the filly’s mother, was dragging her away, but froze when Spike caught her eye.
Spike raised his hand with the emerald between his claws for all to see. He opened his jaw, closed his teeth upon it, and slowly bit through the emerald lengthways. The green crystal collapsed between his teeth, filling his mouth with its mineral taste. Spike savored the flavor with his eyes closed.
Spike opened his eyes to take in the reactions. A few ponies seemed genuinely relieved, some ponies kept their aghast expression, a few had covered their jewelry with their hooves.
The filly, however was showing her first reaction: outrage. “Nooo!” she exclaimed. “That was a really pretty jewel!”
“Well,” Spike replied, “Now it’s a really delicious jewel.” He flicked his long tongue out to it, wrapping the remaining emerald up, and pulled it into his mouth. “Mmmmm.”
“And now it’s all gone! Mom was right, you're a bad dragon!”
Spike was speechless. The filly wasn't scared of him, clearly, but was still angry at him. Was that a net win or net loss? Spike turned his eyes from the filly to the mare holding the filly, the filly's mother.
She winced away from Spike. “Th-thank you for your demonstration,” she said. “Now that our fears are completely cleared, I think we'll take our seats, if that's okay?”
“Yeah,” Spike nearly spat out. “Just fine.” He put his nose back in his book.
Polite fear was a much more expected reaction. Spike sighed again, being careful not to exhale more smoke by accident.
The sun was setting by the time the train reached Spike's destination: Twilight Sparkle's Institute for Magical Research. Well, it reached Manehattan. There was no train directly to the Institute. Spike would have to walk or find a coach to the institute proper.
Spike, pulling a cart laden with his luggage, stepped out of the train, stretching his legs for the first time in nearly a day. Peewee chirped excitedly from his cage. Spike smiled at him. “We'll find a place for you to stretch your wings soon, buddy. Just a little longer.”
Despite the fairly late hour, Manehattan Station was still bustling with activity. 'In Ponyville,' Spike mused, 'most ponies would be at home preparing for dinner by now, only a dedicated few worked through the evening. But, this is the city that never sleeps, and with Luna being the official royal sponsor for the Institute I guess it makes sense that she would select a city with a night life.'
Ponies of all sorts sped to their destinations. 'Not just ponies,' Spike noted, observing a pair of zebra and an impressively large griffon among the crowd. 'Of course, there's still the matter of the big dragon standing taller than anypony else here. He's definitely not a pony.'
Spike had no trouble carting his bags through the sea of ponies, though. Despite the crowding and that the ponies apparently paid him no extra attention, when Spike wanted to move there was a place for him to do so. Spike knew what this was, even if he'd never really experienced it yet: the ponies were doing their best to avoid a confrontation. At least it was something Spike could take advantage of. He went directly out of the station.
Spike set out onto the streets of Manehattan directly to the institute. Or would have if he knew where it was. And his bags weren't too heavy, but there were an awful lot of them and it was a little tough to walk. So, Spike decided to take a cab. The station had quite a few available too.
“Taxi!” Spike called out, joining the other ponies who were waiting for cabs.
A cab raced past Spike and picked up a pony behind him who had been waiting before Spike. 'Alright so the drivers know the score of who's been waiting how long. Hopefully my wait won't be too long.'
Several cabs drove past, picking up more ponies, and Spike waited patiently. He had to wait his turn like anypony else; he was a civilized dragon.
Until a brown stallion with a cravat and glasses walked up right beside Spike, his nose up in the air, and called out “Taxi!” And a taxi came right up to him to let him in.
“Hey!” Spike cried out, “I have been waiting!”
“I know you're probably some tourist who does not know who I am,” the offending stallion began, eyes still smugly closed, “but I am a very important stallion that has important places to be. I'm sure you think you're in a terrible rush, but this is Manehattan not Ruralsville, and wherever you want to be doesn't close at sundown. I'm sure wherever you're going can wait a few more minutes.”
“It’s the principle of the thing,” Spike argued through gritted teeth, and leaned down over the stallion, “And if you can just waltz up and take my cab, who's to say that some other pony can't next? How long exactly am I supposed to wait?”
The stallion, sensing this voice was coming from an unusual angle, deigned to open his eyes. He found out that raising his nose into the air didn't prevent him from making eye contact with a tall snarling dragon, but just pointed his eyes straight into Spike's green slitted ones. The color drained from the stallion’s face, and his smug expression was replaced with panic.
“Oh dear,” he squeaked. “Perhaps I could wait a few more minutes.”
“Perhaps,” Spike growled.
The stallion backpedaled into the station. Spike huffed out a puff of smoke, “Serves him right.”
The cab driver was staring agape at Spike. “What was that?! You lost my fare!”
“Lost your-I am your fare!” Spike countered, “My bits are worth just as much as his are!”
“You're nuts if you think I'm taking a fire-breathing dragon with a bird MADE of fire in my wooden, flammable taxi. Would you even fit?”
“He's not made of fire, and I'm not much bigger than a pony! I just need to get to Twilight's Insitute! It'll be a big fare and everything!”
“I ain't goin' that far out of town this late with a weirdo strange dragon in the back of my cab, and that's final.”
“Then how exactly am I supposed to get there? I don't even know where it is!”
“I dunno, buy a map or somethin'!” The cabbie galloped off.
Spike sighed, and suddenly realized that anypony who had not been staring at him before was staring at him now.
“Anypony know where I can buy a map?” Spike inquired.
A mare silently pointed to a stand across the street with her hoof.
“Thanks.”
The sun had long since set, but Manehattan was hardly dark, now alight with both gas and magic lights. It was on those streets that Spike had led the rented cart laden with his bags. Peewee, finally free of his cage, soared happily above Spike, a bright spot in the dark sky.
Manehattan was not a small city, and the Institute and train station were on opposite sides of it. The Institute was nearly directly north of the city, and Spike had to make his way through a great deal of the city in order to get to it. Dense buildings eventually gave way to sparser, more familiar rural areas, and above the trees Spike could see the tall tower central to the Institute. It was lit from within, and it hung dignified against the starry sky.
Spike was probably less than an hour's walk from the Institute, but it was already very late. While Spike didn't really have guidelines for the latest he was allowed to show up, it seemed to him that anytime near midnight would be a bit too late. So he resolved to find an inn to stay at for the night.
Spike was a little nervous about this.
'I've had really terrible luck so far today interacting with ponies who don't know me. How lucky do I need to get to find an inn that thinks a dragon would be a good tenant?' Spike sighed.
In response, Spike's stomach grumbled.
'And I need dinner too. And a place to get breakfast if I'm staying the night. I didn't think this trip through very well, did I?'
Spike looked up at Peewee. He opened the packages that Fluttershy sent with him, locating the birdseed that she had included in it. 'Fluttershy's planned better for this than I did, and she didn't even know about this until a week ago.'
Spike put two claws into his mouth, and produced a shrill whistle call for Peewee. Peewee swooped down to Spike, who held out a handful of birdseed. Peewee hovered near him, and sent a wave of flame to the seed in his hand, turning it into a charred mess.
Spike stared at the slightly burning mess of ex-seed in his hand, until Peewee started eagerly pecking away at the charcoal bits.
“Ah, you like it a little crispy huh?”
Peewee nodded and chirped.
“You know, if I was a pony that wouldn't have been a very good idea. Not all of us get to be fire-proof.” Spike considered this for a second. “You didn't do this with Fluttershy did you?” Spike narrowed his eyes at Peewee.
Peewee shook his head emphatically.
Spike continued to glare at him and said, “Really? Not even once?”
Peewee lowered his head and gave a sheepish chirp.
Spike rolled his eyes and grinned. “Just be careful.”
Spike's stomach growled in agreement. Well, in hunger, anyway.
“And I still need to take care of that.” Spike looked around for sign of a restaurant or an inn, but he only found caretakers' houses and farmhouses, which he expected would not give him a warm welcome.
So Spike trudged on. Fortune was with him, though, for as the tower loomed larger it became clear there was a village on the road into the institute. There was no wall outside of this community, and Spike knew he would have to get past an outer wall to enter the institute, so it wasn't part of the institute proper. If anywhere had an inn and a place to eat, it was here.
Unlike Manehattan, the village was not pleasantly lit this late. There were streetlights, in contrast to Ponyville, but the lights in the windows were mostly off. Not everypony was already asleep though.
In the village stood a restaurant, with a big plate and utensils adorning its sign. The plate had a bite taken out of it, and the sign read Delicious Dishes. The building itself was a plain brown color. Maybe it could be charitably described as taupe or umber, but it was probably just brown. The only adornment on the building, beyond its sign, was a plain beige trim around the windows, doors, and the roof. Even the apartment buildings nearby had wrought iron balconies or decorative trim. It was definitely the most boring building on the street, so it stuck out like a sore thumb. But it was late and it was still open.
Spike left Peewee to take care of the bags outside. As Spike entered the restaurant he noted the inside wasn't much different. The walls were unadorned. The windows were unadorned, save for plain pink curtains. The tables were plain with red cloth placemats. There was a bar at the back of the restaurant with what was the most complicated thing visible in the dining room: a series of shelves with drink bottles, and a big chalk board listing food and prices.
'Definitely no Sugarcube Corner,' Spike thought, 'I don't think I see a single curly or wavy anything here. It’s all straight lines and practical design. I guess I didn't come here for ambiance though.'
Spike's entrance didn't seem to garner any attention at all. This was probably because there was nopony currently dining, and in fact the entire restaurant seemed deserted except for a quietly snoozing unicorn mare draped over the bar. Spike took a seat.
“Excuse me,” Spike said. There was no response. “Hello?” Spike gently prodded the mare, but there was still no response. Spike groaned.
Spike loudly rapped his knuckles on the bar. The mare sat up with a start, her eyes wide and alert for a single instant, before they closed again. The mare slowly descended back onto the bar, mumbling, “Princess Celestia, you can't possibly finish all that cake alone. But it’s okay, together–”
Spike stared at the mare, who had drifted back off to sleep. “Great,” Spike said, a snarl on his face. “The one place still open and the bartender's asleep.”
The door behind the bar opened and a coral pink pegasus mare, wearing a white bandanna on her head, stepped through. “Sheesh Nightcap, what's the de-oh hey a customer.”
Spike and the mare made eye contact. Green eyes met steel blue eyes. Nightcap mumbled in her sleep, “No, it’s not sweet enough. We need to go with the ice berry wine.”
The coral mare rolled her eyes. “Jeez, she's already at wine selection? We've lost her for the night.” She sighed and rested her forehoof on the bar counter. “Well, we're still open, what can I do ya for?”
Spike's stomach grumbled.
“Of course,” the mare replied, “but can you be more specific?”
“At this point,” Spike said, “I'd be content with anything. Hay fries?”
“Hay fries?!” The mare looked offended. “You don't waltz into my cafe this late and ask for plain ole hay fries!” The mare flapped into the air, landing on the bar, and Spike found himself being looked down at. “I have been waiting in the back room bored for an hour and I am making something more delicious than hay fries.”
“Then I'll have the–” Spike looked past the mare to the chalk board "–fried eggplant?”
The mare, apparently satisfied, fluttered back towards the kitchen. “It’s a start.” She turned back, showing a clear view of her red tail and frying-pan cutie mark. “You do know that comes with appetizers right? Come on.”
“Um, into the kitchen?” Spike said.
“Yeah, unless you think Nightcap is gonna be better company,” she replied, gesturing to the sleeping unicorn.
Spike glanced at the dark blue unicorn with her cake and wine glass cutie mark, who was still snoozing and occasionally mumbling, and looked to the mare leaving to the kitchen. Spike followed.
“So what brings a tall lizard thing to the Big Apple?” she asked, pulling out ingredients: fresh herbs, tomatoes, and a dark eggplant. She began to slice up the herbs and tomatoes.
“Dragon. I'm on my way to Twilight's Institute. As to what I'm doing here right now–” On cue, Spike's stomach growled, "–I haven't had a proper meal all day, just snacks.”
“Aw, poor little dragon,” she teased, “Can't pillage for your food? I'm sure you could do some terrorizing and you'd have a full belly faster than you can say guacamole.”
Spike's entire body stiffened up at this. “Don't joke about that,” he muttered glumly.
The room became quiet, the only sound being that of a knife hitting the cutting board. The mare calmly finished her chopping, and turned to the spice rack, her back still to Spike.
“Look... Let’s try this a different way,” The mare said and she spun around abruptly to face Spike, depositing the spice on the counter in the same motion. “My name is Cayenne, and I'm the head chef for Delicious Dishes.” She held out a hoof in greeting with a smile on her face.
Spike was stunned for a moment. He tentatively reached a claw down to her hoof, grasping it to shake. “I'm Spike. Uh... research assistant at Twilight Sparkle's Institute for Magical Research.”
Cayenne shook his hand roughly and smiled. “Nice ta meetcha Spike! You've still got an appetizer to pick, what's your pleasure?”
A small smile appeared on Spike's face. “How about the soup?”
“Great! We've got a hearty bisque today.” Cayenne spun around again and pulled out more vegetables, and began to slice them.
“Does it always boil down to food for you?”
“You–” Cayenne suddenly pointed at Spike's stomach “–have not eaten all day! This means you're gonna be in a bad mood until you get that problem fixed. And I am here to help you with your problem!”
Spike's stomach growled.
“That's right!” Cayenne exclaimed.
Spike chuckled. “Alright, then put some of that eggplant on or something!”
Cayenne went back to cutting. “Ah, no.”
Spike frowned. “What? Why not?”
“I'm not done with the prep work yet.”
“Aren't you done enough to start frying the eggplant?”
“Yep, but I've got to make sure I've prepared all the ingredients first. If you don't do that things could get ugly.” Cayenne gave Spike a grave expression.
“Sounds like a real disaster,” Spike deadpanned.
“That sort of carelessness ruins dishes, Spike,” Cayenne stated, attending to her chopping. “We could have a culinary catastrophe.”
Spike threw his arms up in the air. “Well if you're gonna make me wait until all the stuff is prepared, at least let me help.”
Cayenne raised an eyebrow. “You're seriously suggesting that I let someone who walks right off the street into my kitchen to cook?”
“You invited me in.” Spike smiled smugly. “Besides, I've been cooking for years. I know my way around a kitchen.”
Cayenne smirked. “Alright big guy, let’s see what you got.”
The kitchen became a whirlwind of activity. At Cayenne's surprisingly detailed direction Spike chopped and sliced and seasoned, and did all of it with a big smile on his face. It had been far too long since he had ever just helped somepony with something, and Spike was back in his element. Tasks were completed with a smile; mistakes were rectified by laughter.
The dish wasn't particularly complicated and consisted of frying and grilling seasoned vegetables, but the smells that filled the kitchen cared not about the simplicity of the dish. As the hour of completion (not that cooking took an hour) neared though, Cayenne told Spike to return to the dining room. Insisted, really.
Spike sat at table in Delicious Dishes's dining, with the sleeping Nightcap as his only company. He lightly drummed his fingers on the table, careful not to scratch it with his claws.
So Spike waited, trying to ignore the loud protestations of his stomach, made worse by the delicious smells he endured when in the kitchen. 'What is taking that mare?'
The door to the kitchen swung open and Cayenne stepped out, a tray with two covered plates balanced on her back. “Alright,” she said as she approached Spike's table. “Who's got the eggplant?”
Spike gave her a flat look.
Cayenne chuckled. “Alright, straight to the main course, I get it.” She placed the two covered plates on the table, and lifted the covers. “Voila.”
Crispy, juicy eggplant, grilled vegetables and minced herbs filled a fluffy flat bread, covered in a mysterious beige sauce on the plate. Beside it was a bowl filled with a creamy red soup, more herbs on top. But the appearance paled in comparison to the delicious smells which Spike had been away from for just long enough to inhale anew, making his mouth water.
Spike wasted no time devouring them. To the hungry dragon, any food would have been well appreciated, but a delicious meal like this was heaven. Spike eagerly tore into the pita wrap, each bite accompanied by a satisfied hum and closed eyes, which glistened at the corners.
Cayenne looked at Spike in amusement. “Are you... crying?”
“It’sh amashing,” Spike said, not waiting to swallow. Spike blinked his eyes rapidly, reasserting his composure. “It’sh just been–” Spike swallowed "–so long since I've had a tasty meal like this.”
“What happened to bragging about cooking experience?”
“Well,” Spike replied sheepishly. “or the last several years I've been finding myself cooking simpler meals more often. The last year, especially. It’s hard to get the motivation to make something elaborate when you're just cooking for yourself.”
Cayenne rolled her eyes, although she still wore a smile on her face. “I'm not sure if years of bachelor chow counts as cooking experience.”
“I still cooked for friends occasionally, I just didn't have to cook for somepony else every night anymore,” Spike said between bites.
“Ah, moved out of your parents' house, I've been there.” Cayenne relaxed with her forehooves on the table.
“Uh... close enough. What about you?” Spike said, changing the subject, “Why are you here mostly alone so late?”
“You know how it is. Manehattan is the city that never sleeps!”
“We're not exactly in Manehattan.”
“We're pretty close. The areas around Manehattan don't sleep either.”
“Uh-huh. Which is why Nightcap over there is pleasantly snoozing, right?” Spike added, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.
“Nightcap wants this place to double as a late-night drinking establishment. Note the well-stocked bar?” Cayenne gestured towards the bar. “Problem is nopony comes in this late. Maybe we get stragglers, like you, but mostly it’s as barren as you see it tonight. No customers means no tips means no waiter wants to work this late. Nightcap says she can do it instead until business picks up, but...” Cayenne trailed off, a dubious look on her face.
“Her name says it all, huh?” Spike added with half-lidded eyes.
Cayenne nodded.
Spike shook his head. “So you're stuck picking up the slack for your boss, I guess?”
“Boss? Nightcap?” Cayenne scoffed. “Hardly. We're partners in this business. She handles the front room and the wait staff, I handle the delicious food.”
“And the food is delicious!” Spike added.
“I know,” Cayenne stated. “But let me tell you a secret.” She leaned in close to Spike, conspiratorially holding her hoof to her mouth, and whispered, “It’s still really nice to hear.”
Spike and Cayenne chuckled with each other.
Spike stood up. “Alright. Well, unless you want my help with the dishes too, I'd better find a place to stay that would take in a dragon this late.” Spike sighed. “I'm not looking forward to it, but I got lucky here!” Spike put a determined look on his face and pointed dramatically out the door. “So, I'm off.”
“Or–” Cayenne fluttered up and pushed his arm down with her hoof, “–you can save your luck for later, and I can get you a place to stay.”
“Really?”
“Yep! But I gotta warn you, it’s not gonna be a particularly nice place to stay. Because it’s the kitchen.”
“You'd... trust me to stay in your restaurant for the night?”
“I'm just gonna be upstairs. Nightcap too. By the way, you’re gonna be you helping me move her.”
“Hang on,” Spike held up a claw. “In the interest of full disclosure I've got to tell you, I've got a pet. He's well behaved but I've already had trouble tonight with arranging transport.”
“Bring it on! How bad can it be! I mean if he'll fit. He's not like a manticore or anything is he?”
“Nono, he'll fit he's... maybe I should show you.”
Spike walked through the door and onto the street. Peewee was top of his cage, which was on top of Spike's bags, and he was flaring his wings menacingly at a passing pedestrian. Spike motioned to Cayenne, who followed him out onto the street.
“Cayenne, this is Peewee. Peewee, this is Cayenne. She offered me a place to stay for the night. And dinner.”
Cayenne looked at Peewee, then back at Spike. “If my kitchen is burnt tomorrow I'm holding you responsible. Come on.”
The bedding Cayenne set up for Spike was in no way elaborate. It was basically a really thick roll-up quilt. Cayenne said it was bedding from some overseas nation, and it was pretty convenient. And surprisingly snug. Maybe that was because Spike was tall for a pony. If he were a pony, anyway.
So Spike lay, reflecting on his day. 'All in all, it’s been pretty good! I made up with my Ponyville friends, made it to Manehattan and got some delicious food. Even found someone willing to put me up for the night. I probably couldn't have asked for a better day.'
Spike frowned in his bed. 'Okay, maybe I could've done with a hundred percent less hassle from ponies today. Then I might've been at the institute already. But then I wouldn't’ve found this place. But I wouldn't’ve had to?
'I guess it’s a wash. But I've got tomorrow to look forward to! Back to research and assistance and important Equestria-saving business!'
Spike sighed and closed his eyes. “I really did it didn't I? I moved out. I don't live in Ponyville. I'm off into the big world with nopony to help me. I'm not going to know anypony at the Institute, I'll be completely on my own.'
Spike felt a bit of pressure on his chest, and looked up. Peewee was standing on his chest, and gave Spike a questioning chirp.
Spike smiled and put his claw up near Peewee's head, and Peewee gave it an affectionate nuzzle. “I'm not sure how it would work for you, but you'd rather sleep here with me?”
Peewee chirped and nodded.
“You're gonna be good with the cloth quilt? I don't wanna wake up in the middle of a fire. It’s not like it’s going to hurt me, but this bedding is on loan.”
Peewee made a chirp that Spike was sure sounded quite like a scoff, and fluffed his chest feathers impressively.
Spike chuckled. “Alright, I'm sold.”
Spike shifted around leaving a spot for Peewee in his bedding, which Peewee happily nestled into. Peewee radiated a comfortable warmth. Spike smiled and closed his eyes.