//------------------------------//
// Inside the Lair 
// Story: Blackacre 
// by Princess Woona 
//------------------------------//

20 June, Y.C. 970
The Great Lair

Sss-Thss growled his displeasure. He didn’t like being disturbed, especially not after a long night of reading through correspondence himself. He didn’t trust his new aide to do it, at least not yet.
Interrupting him was certainly not helping his case any.
“…near the road to the north,” the wyrm was saying. “She got past the pony patrols, but the border drakes smelled her out quickly enough.”
“And what,” asked Sss-Thss, slowly turning around to face his soon-to-be ex-aide, “is it doing here.”
The bright pink pony mumbled something through the gag, straining her arms against the restraints, attempting to use gestures to communicate with someone who was clearly having none of it.
“She demanded to speak with you, sir.”
Sss-Thss was entirely unimpressed. “Me.”
“By name. Says she’s here on behalf of Beatrix of Blackacre.”
“The pony rebels,” he acknowledged with the wave of a claw. “Very well. Remove her gag.”
The wyrm removed the black cloth, and the pony shook her blonde curls free.
“Thank you,” she said, slightly irritated. “I am Sharon Rock, and on behalf of Beatrix the Great, speaker for the free ponies of Blackacre, I come bearing an offer for Sss-Thss, First Claw of the Hierarch, Dragon of the —”
“Enough,” he said, cutting her off. “What is it you propose?”
“Mutual aid,” she said in a surprisingly confident tone.
“An alliance?” He snorted. “That’s rich.”
“Dragons and ponies have much to benefit from each other,” she said quickly. “At the moment, we share a common enemy; in the future —”
“Ponies have one use for dragons,” he conceded, but shook his head. “But what would you have me do?”
“By coordinating —”
“Attacks?” he finished, toying with her. “Do you have the detailed operational intelligence that would allow us to plan a coherent operation? Can you provide the logistical backing necessary for such a push? Could you rustle up the internal support for a sudden and all-out invasion of a country with which we are currently at peace?”
“I…” she stammered. “I can provide one of those.”
“And do you have any strategic or tactical intelligence on you at the moment?”
“I am just an envoy,” she said gracefully. “Blackacre is willing to provide what we have after a show of good faith by joining us in —”
“You know nothing.”
“I am authorized to treat,” she ventured. “I’m not privy to need-to-know intelligence.”
“So you’re worthless to me.” Sss-Thss turned to his aide with an expression of almost parental disappointment. “You are here to screen these wastes of my time.”
The wyrm bowed deep as the pony shook her head.
“This isn’t a waste of time,” she insisted. “Our peoples have much to offer —”
Sss-Thss’ claw flashed. The pony clawed at her neck, trying to hold herself together. Or in, as the case might be.
After a few seconds of futile gasping, she collapsed in an expanding puddle on the floor; a few seconds more and the quivering stopped.
“Do a better job next time,” said Sss-Thss, turning back to his work.
“Of course,” affirmed the wrym. He paused for a moment, making the vaguest sound of hesitation.
“Dispose of it,” said the dragon with an idle wave, not bothering to turn back. “I’ve already fed.”
With a nod, the wrym hefted the corpse, dragging it out of the elder dragon’s chamber. He would send a few of the hatchlings up later to clean the mess. It would be an annoying job, but fresh meat made for a fantastic bribe. This pony looked to be a bit stringy, but anything was better than the salted cardboard they usually got in the Great Lair.
Sss-Thss paid him no mind. He had no need for distraction when there was real work to do.