//------------------------------// // Chapter 4: Dragons and Pies // Story: As It Should Be // by JackobolTrades //------------------------------// Marwolaeth settled into a pile of hay in the loft of the Apple family’s barn, kicking one leg over the other and putting his hands behind his head. “Yes. This will do.” Applejack scratched her head. “Ya sure? Ah could bring up a mattress for ya.” “No need. I’ve slept in worse. At least it’s clean.” “Well, Ah guess. Ya need anythin’, just holler.” “Noted.” Applejack slid down the ladder into the loft and trotted to the door of the barn before Marwolaeth hailed her. “Ah, one thing, Jack.” Applejack turned around. “Changed yer mind on the mattress, Sugarcube?” “No. Do you happen to have planks of wood and excess buckets lying around?” “Sure do! Spare buildin’ wood’s behind the plow on th’ first floor, an’ the buckets’re in the cellar. Want me to go get one?” “Please do. If you can, bring three or four.” “Sure thing, Sugarcube.” Marwolaeth leapt from the loft onto the barn floor and began rustling through the varied lengths of wood, occasionally tossing a plank or two over his shoulder. Applejack returned with a pile of buckets balanced on her back when he had accrued a small pile of mid length, thick planks of wood. “That’s a lot a’ wood ya got there. Here’s four buckets for ya, like ya asked.” “My thanks.” Marwolaeth began lying wood in various patterns, crafting the likenesses of various beings in simple lines, with the buckets as heads. Applejack watched him work until her curiosity got the better of her. “So what’cha makin’ there?” “Training dummies.” “Dummies? What fer?” “Training.” Applejack snorted. “Trotted right into that one. Trainin’ fer what?” “Weapons.” “Weapons? Ah thought that Princess Celestia said that you couldn’t use ‘em.” “Hardly. She has decreed that I am not to kill while I am here. That does not ban the use of weapons. Still, I foresee a long period of quiet before me, and I would not want to become out of practice. Thus: Training dummies.” “Mmh. Fine. Jus’ don’ set ‘em up where ya might hurt somepony.” “I am open to suggestions.” Applejack rubbed her foreleg on her chin. “Hmm, Ah might know a place. Nice quiet spot next to a little pond in th’ middle o’ the orchard.” “Very well. I will have you lead me there in the morning. For now, I have work to do.” “Mind if Ah watch?” “Mildly. Stand back if you do.” Applejack backed up against the doorframe and sat down to watch. Marwolaeth stood above the stick figures of wood and took a deep breath, probing the latent energy held in the marrow of his bones. The phantom lines of script phased into being along his arms. He exhaled and the glowing lines slithered from his forearms to his legs as his concentration went to the bones in his feet. Marwolaeth drew a wickedly sharp shortsword and filled his lungs with air, taking a balanced stance with two hands on the hilt of his sword. The magical lines flared briefly as Marwolaeth lifted his foot and began a slow exhale. Marwolaeth stomped his raised foot as the lines of arcane script vanished from view. Applejack felt the earth buckle under his boot and saw the floor of the barn ripple violently, throwing the wood figures into the air. Transfixed as she was by the floor, Applejack almost missed Marwolaeth moving. Marwolaeth’s feet slid over the straw and dirt as though he was sliding on ice. His body was in constant motion, twisting and turning to allow his sword to dance through the hail of wood. And dance it did in a mesmerizing flow of ups and downs, spins and twirls almost faster than Applejack could track. In a mere few seconds, Marwolaeth had reached the other end of the barn, the ground had ceased rippling, and the wood blocks fell to the floor. Marwolaeth sheathed his sword before turning to survey his work. Each plank of wood had gained a set of notches. He nodded. Applejack would have dropped her flank to the ground had she not already been sitting. In its place, her jaw lay snugly between her hooves as she stared at Marwolaeth. Marwolaeth began assembling his wooden dummies, slotting notches into each other to keep the planks in place. Soon he had four upright models with buckets for heads and wood for bodies. “That will do for now. Good night, Jack.” Marwolaeth ascended the ladder into the loft with one of the discarded blocks of wood in one hand. Minutes passed with no movement from Applejack, and Marwolaeth chucked the block of wood at the light switch, flipping the switch and plunging the barn into darkness. With a choked moan, Applejack trotted into the house in a zombie like trance. In the morning, Marwolaeth carried his training dummies over his shoulder as he walked behind Applejack, who seemed to have recovered from her wonder overnight. She regaled Marwolaeth with information about Sweet Apple Acres as they walked until they reached their destination. Once in the clearing, Marwolaeth set the training dummies upright and hammered them into the earth while Applejack watched him work in silence. When Marwolaeth finished, Applejack spoke up. “Say, Pydredd?” “Mm?” Marwolaeth knelt by the edge of the pond, inspecting the water with his back to Applejack. “Ah can’t help but be impressed by that display ya put on last night.” “Mmhmm.” Marwolaeth lifted the visor of his helmet and cupped his hands, bringing the pond water to his mouth. “Do ya… Could ya teach me how ta do that?” “I could.” Marwolaeth lowered his visor with a clap. Applejack waited for a few moments. “…Will ya?” “Depends.” “On what?” “Do you know how to use a blade?” “Uh… Well shucks, the closest thing to a blade we use on th’ farm’s a scythe. Unless ya want ta count kitchen knives?” “No. The scythe however… Mm, give me a scythe and three days and I might be able to teach you.” “Hot dog! What’cha gonna do with the scythe fer three days?” “Practice. I have not properly wielded a scythe in far too long.” “Well, alright. We’ll go into town later today ta get ya a shiny new scythe. But first, we gotta get th’ chores done! Here, lemme show ya how ta buck apples!” “Kick the tree to dislodge the apples, gather the fallen apples in a bucket.” “Well, shoot, how’d you know?” Marwolaeth pointed at the nearest tree. “All of the trees have clearly defined hoofprints on strategically placed points where the tree is strongest and most pliable. Either that is how you mark your trees, or you shake the trees by kicking them. The name of the job, apple bucking, narrowed the choice.” “Huh. Not bad. How’d you spot those, anyway, through that big ol’ gong on yer head?” “Years of practice with it on.” “Mm, fair enough. Still, knowing what apple bucking is and actually doing it are two different things all together.” “True. Lead the way.” Hours of instruction and labour later, Applejack returned to the Apple family house with a cart full of apples with Marwolaeth walking calmly beside her. “Aaaand that’s th’ last of it! We’re ahead o’ schedule, thanks ta ya, Pydredd! Ah’m surprised ya caught on that fast!” “It’s simple, really. Moderating the strength of the kick is the majority of the technique.” “Shoot, no need ta be humble. An’ ya ain’t even winded!” “A good few hours’ work is not enough to tire me, though I shall be sleeping soundly tonight. Still, it was a valuable experience. It is rare, indeed, for me to get an opportunity to learn a new skill.” “Aw, shucks, tweren’t nothin’. Well, since we’ve got all the chores done, Ah might as well take ya into town fer that scythe. Ah wanna get together with th’ girls, too.” “Sounds like a plan.” Applejack and Marwolaeth walked into town, first stopping by the local blacksmith, a tan mare with a hammer for a cutie mark meeting them at the door. “Ah, you must be that Pydredd character that’s gotten the town up in a tizzy. What can I do for you?” “I’d like a scythe.” “Taking up farming, are we?” “Ayep!” Applejack chirped. “He’s livin’ up at the farm while he’s here. ‘Course, room an’ board ain’t free, so we have ‘im doin’ chores fer us.” “Sounds fair. Come on in! Do you have a style of scythe that you prefer?” “No. Show me what you have.” The blacksmith brought out a chest from behind her counter and opened it to reveal a multitude of scythe shafts. Some of them curved around to fit a pony’s shoulder while others were shaped in the classical shape, some with handles and others as a mere staff with a slot for the blade. One shaft in particular caught Marwolaeth’s eye. “What’s that one?” Marwolaeth pointed to a black staff with a handle that appeared to be segmented, much like an insect’s leg. “Ah, that’s a special from the ant farmers down in San Antonio. It’s collapsible; you just pull apart the segments and fold them up. Good for travelers, and in a pinch, you can just grab a hold on one end and shake it. The sinew-rubber stuff threaded through each piece will snap them into place.” “Perfect. And the blade?” “One of my own finely hoofcrafted crescent blades, of course! Free of charge with purchase of the haft.” “Excellent. Jack?” “A’right, how much?” Marwolaeth hefted the black staff as the two mares talked business, taking it apart and putting it back together again repeatedly. Eventually, the business concluded, bits changed hooves, and the blacksmith handed Marwolaeth a large, finely honed, crescent shaped blade with one flat end and a few screws to fasten the blade into place. “Pleasure doing business with you! Have a nice day!” The blacksmith called as Marwolaeth and Applejack left her shop. Marwolaeth collapsed the scythe and clipped the cylinder of wood and steel to his back. “An excellent find. Where to next?” “We all agreed ta meet at Twilight’s today, so we’ll just trot over there.” “Spike will be there, I assume.” “Yep! He’s Twilight’s assistant. Keeps th’ library clean an’ tidy.” “Library?” “Right, ya ain’t been ta Twilight’s yet! She lives in th’ Ponyville library. She’s th’ librarian an’ Spike helps ‘er run th’ place.” “I see.” Applejack walked up to the library as Marwolaeth hung back to observe the library. The tree that it was housed in looked alive and well, though he could feel the faint thrumming of various spells cast upon the wood and its contents. He nodded in approval as he stepped forward to greet Twilight, who had opened the door and allowed Applejack to enter. Marwolaeth ducked through the doorway and into the darkened library. His eyes could pick out the shapes of multitudes of ponies attempting to hide, and his ears heard the faint giggling and whispers of the ponies. Suddenly, Twilight reignited the lights and all of the ponies leapt out of their hiding spots to shout at Marwolaeth. “SURPRISE!” Marwolaeth didn’t even flinch. Pinkie Pie bounced up to Marwolaeth. “Ha! Gotcha! I bet we scared you. Did we scare you?” “No.” “I knew- Wait, what?” “I was neither surprised, nor scared by you ponies.” “Buh… But why?” Marwolaeth held up his hand and began ticking off of his fingers. “The lights were off in a public facility during business hours, Applejack disappeared behind the couch as soon as she thought she was out of my sight, I could see at least five tails poking from behind various pieces of furniture, and I could hear you all giggling.” Pinkie Pie scuffed her hoof against the ground and scowled. “Couldn’t you at least act surprised?” “No.” “Why not?” Pinkie Pie demanded. Twilight put a hoof across Pinkie’s withers. “He can’t lie, remember, Pinkie?” Pinkie harrumphed. “…Fine. You win this time, Marmalade.” “Pydredd.” “Pie Crust.” “Close enough. Surprise party?” Pinkie perked up immediately. “Oh, right!” Pinkie swung a hoof around to indicate the library, which was covered in streamers and had a multitude of ponies that had begun to partake in the party favours and games. “It’s your welcome to Ponyville party! I know it’s a bit late, but you were in Canterlot for your first day in Equestria, and I didn’t get to throw you a party, so I settled for just a welcome to Ponyville party instead because you’ve already been welcomed into Equestria, even though the guards probably didn’t throw you a party like me, they’re just so stuffy sometimes, and by sometimes, I mean all the time! Did you know that their poker faces are so solid that even Dashie and I can’t make them laugh out loud? Dashie resorted to tickling them one time, but that’s cheating because they can’t help it, the mind is the slave to the body and all that and ooh! I need to introduce you to everypony! This is Twilight and Dashie and AJ and-” Pinkie Pie plucked ponies from their activities and tossed them in front of Marwolaeth as she listed their names. The displaced ponies did not seem to mind; they just shook their heads and chuckled before returning to what they had been doing previously. Marwolaeth turned to Twilight as Pinkie finished the introductions. “She does this for every new resident?” Twilight nodded. “Yep. Really, though, it’s just an excuse to throw a party. She’ll find any reason to throw a party, so hardly a day goes by where she’s not setting one up.” “I take it that my presence will not be mandatory?” “Well… No, not technically. But since we do have authority over some of the things you do, she might try to force you to go to each one.” “Inefficient.” “Well, as you said before, we don’t have complete control of you, so she may not be able to actually demand that of you.” “We’ll burn that bridge when we cross it.” Twilight looked askance at Marwolaeth. “I don’t think that that’s how that-” “And that’s the last of them! Hey, what’cha guys talking about?” Pinkie appeared, standing on Marwolaeth’s shoulders. “About whether or not you will attempt to force me to attend every single party you throw.” Twilight grinned nervously and jabbed Marwolaeth’s shin with her elbow, drawing a dull gonging noise. She hissed and rubbed at her foreleg. “Ah, that’s gonna leave a bruise.” She muttered. Pinkie Pie jumped off of Marwolaeth’s shoulders and sat down next to Twilight. “Silly Paint Can, I wouldn’t make you go to every party! That would just be silly, dragging you from place to place for each party, and you’d get all tired and grumpy! Even I need to take breaks from partying sometimes, after all!” Marwolaeth nodded. “Good to see that you can temper your enthusiasm.” “Pff, of course I temper my enthusiasm! I temper it into a durable, flexible entity and hone it to a sharp edge, so that I can use it more effectively!” Twilight blinked and looked at Pinkie. “Did… Did you just make a smithing analogy?” “I sure did! Gotta put it into terms he’ll understand so that he’ll stop asking questions sooner so that he can go enjoy his party quicker!” Marwolaeth nodded. “Very well. Thank you for the party, Pie.” Marwolaeth avoided the Twister mat and approached the Pin the Tail on the Pony area, where he had cloth tied around his helmet before he was spun around. He pinned the tail almost exactly on target. Next Marwolaeth approached the snack tables and lifted his visor barely enough to fit a cupcake into his mouth, keeping his face in shadow. He shuddered at the overpowering sweetness in the pastry. “Hey there.” A voice called from between Marwolaeth’s feet. A small purple dragon, no larger than a small dog, stood underneath Marwolaeth, tapping on the top of his boot. “Ah, you must be Spike.” “Yahuh, can you pass me that cupcake up there?” Spike asked, pointing at one of the cupcakes on a tray. Marwolaeth gave Spike the cupcake and crouched down next to him. “So then, I have questions for you.” “Mfea. Tw’lght- Mm, ‘ne sec.” Spike swallowed the remains of his cupcake. “Twilight said you might.” “Most of my questions will have to be asked later. Can you come to Sweet Apple Acres tomorrow morning?” “Uh, I’ll have to ask Twilight, but I might.” “Good. I’ll conduct your evaluation there. For now, I’d like to see a few things. Call them party tricks.” “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Evaluation? Who said anything about an evaluation?” “I did. Tomorrow at the farm. I’ll explain then. Now, party tricks.” Spike crossed his arms. “Alright, fine, what do you want to see?” Marwolaeth pulled a piece of hard, toasted bread from the table. “Char this.” “No can do.” “No?” “Nah, I don’t have my flame yet. Just some weird magic-y fire that sends things to Princess Celestia.” “Interesting. You know, it’s a shame that she has to miss this party. Why don’t we send her a slice of cake?” Spike nodded, looking pensive. “I dunno. It sounds like a good idea, but Twilight doesn’t like sending the Princess more than she’s asked for… But you’re right, and the Princess does like cake. Alright, gimme a plate with cake and a fork.” When the food was put into Spike’s claw, he heaved a mighty breath and spewed a stream of green fire over the plate and its occupants, which turned into a light green ash and was whisked out of the tree house on an invisible wind. “Interesting indeed…” “Ahuh. You want to see anything else?” Marwolaeth looked Spike over, noting his lack of wings and the fins on the side of his head. “Mm, yes. Can you scale-sing?” “Uh, I guess? Ahem. Mi-mi-mi-mi-mi!” “Not that kind of singing. Guess I get to teach you a new trick.” “Yeah, sure. What can you teach me about being a dragon?” “More than you already know, obviously. Now, take one of your claws and flick the first spine on your head.” “Um, okay?” Spike did so, sending his spine quivering and vibrating. “Now open your mouth wide and run your claws horizontally along your belly. Spike opened his mouth and immediately began issuing a low hum from his throat. When he placed a claw in the middle of his stomach, the humming changed pitch and volume depending on how many claws he placed on his stomach at once, and where they were positioned. Soon, the volume drained despite Spike’s attempts to stop it as the spine on his head came to a standstill. His eyes opened wide as he reflected on his new skill. “Whoa.” “Not bad, eh? Keep practicing.” “Yeah! Thanks, mister Marwolaeth!” “Call me Pydredd.” “Right. Thanks Pydredd!” “You’re welcome, Spike.” Marwolaeth stood up and turned around to find Twilight staring at his stomach. She quickly backed up and looked at his helmet. “What were you doing to Spike?” She asked, a suspicious squint scrunching up her snout. “Teaching him.” “Yeah? Teaching him what?” Rainbow Dash flew in front of Marwolaeth’s visor. “Scale-singing.” “And what’s that? Some kind of alien indoctrination spell?” “No, it’s a natural skill for a dragon. Watch.” Marwolaeth turned to watch Spike, who was sitting on the sets of the stairs to the second floor, periodically flicking his spines and experimenting with his claws as he tuned himself. “He sounds like a cat fight.” “For now, he might. When he finds the proper notational areas, he’ll be producing sounds that you likely have never heard before.” “A likely story!” “Rainbow Dash.” Twilight butted in. “We went over this. He can’t lie, remember?” “Oh yeah. Still, I don’t like him. I don’t need guarding, anyway!” “Your princess seems to think otherwise.” “Yeah well- Uh… Shoot, can’t argue with the Princess.” “Mmhmm. If we’re done here, I’ll be returning to the party.” “Yeah, whatever.” Over the course of the night, Marwolaeth played and won at darts and tug of war, and lost at Twister and the eating contest, which he declined to enter. Eventually the party dwindled down and came to a stop, where Marwolaeth and Applejack bid the group farewell and began the trek back to Sweet Apple Acres. “Whew! Another hit from Pinkie, wouldn’t ya say, Pydredd?” “It was… definitely enjoyable. I have no frame of reference with which to judge if it was a hit or not.” “Well, take my word fer it, then.” “Easy enough.” “So, uh, Ah heard ya talkin’ ta Spike about that scale-singin’ thing.” “Mmhmm?” “Can ya do that yerself?” “No. I am not a dragon.” “Oh. That makes sense, Ah guess.” “Yes. Good night, Jack.” “’Night, Pydredd.” Marwolaeth slept that night, dreaming of apples, fire and cake. An inordinately large amount of cake, in fact. He could distinctly remember that it was banana flavoured, and a maniacal laughter could be heard in the land of cakes. In the morning, Spike did not appear at Sweet Apple acres, so Marwolaeth took the time before Applejack came for him to start chores to become acquainted with his new scythe. He practiced drawing it and sheathing it for most of the time, getting a feel for how it snapped into place. He gave it a few experimental twirls as well, gauging its weight and balance. As Marwolaeth went through his chores, he created a list of things that he had to accomplish before any new threat reared its head. Among the items of the list were various ideas on how to better equip his charges to deal with enemies, with the hope that if Celestia observed their abilities, then he would be discharged, as he would no longer be needed to protect them. As Marwolaeth and Big Macintosh finished hauling buckets of apples into the house cellar, thus completing their chores for the day, Spike waddled up to Marwolaeth. “Hey Pydredd. Twilight said that I couldn’t come over this morning, ‘cuz I had some cleaning to do, but that I could come over when I finished.” “Understandable. We were just finished here, right Macintosh?” “Eeyup.” “Excellent. Follow me, Spike.” Marwolaeth led Spike to his training area next to the pond. “From your posture and demeanor, I can conclude that you have no combat training?” “Well, no. I help in a library, why would I need to know how to fight?” “Before now, no reason. Circumstances change, however, and I have been assigned to keep you and the Elements of Harmony safe. The safest that you can be, however, is not with me by your side. If you can defend yourself adequately, then I can spend my energies better protecting the others. And you can help.” “Well, I do like helping, but I don’t really like fighting.” “Good.” “Really?” “One of my old masters used to say that a warrior that fights only for the thrill of the fight is weak, and prone to fits of anger. The warrior that hates to fight, but must to protect those he holds dear, will end conflict as quickly and painlessly as possible. Efficient, calm and effective.” “Wow. I never thought of it that way.” “Few do. But we can work on fighting later, if you want to at all. For now, I just want to give you a quick physical check. I have told Twilight of my past with dragons. Has she told you of it?” “Uh… no. You know dragons?” “Raised a nest of them once.” “Really? That’s… unheard of!” “On this plane, perhaps. I will see the difference between the dragons of here and there as we go on. This may get a little bit uncomfortable.” And it was. Over the next hour, Marwolaeth, picked, prodded and turned Spike every which way, even going so far as to stick a finger into Spike’s mouth to trace his teeth. “Well, I can say for sure that you are male, and physically a baby dragon, despite nature’s course.” “What’s that mean?” “How old are you?” “Um… Like eighteen or nineteen years old, I think.” “Have you always been this size?” “Yeah. Well… No. I once went into a hoarding spree and prematurely grew into adulthood.” “Hmm. Sounds about right. Your first taste of the hoard. Normally, a baby dragon will look upon its mother’s hoard and desire it for itself. In these cases, the mother will beat down the baby and tell it to go find its own hoard, which it does. Slowly at first, it starts by stealing small trinkets from its mother. The mother notices, of course, but it is the start of her hatchling’s hoard, so she does not mind so long as the baby moves on from her hoard soon. “Eventually, the child becomes impatient with the rate at which its hoard is growing, and turns to outside sources to feed it. From there, nature takes its course and the dragon grows in relation to the size of its hoard.” “Wow. That makes… a lot of sense.” “Now, you seem like a disciplined sort.” “I like to think that I can keep a reign on my emotions, yeah.” “The trick to growing up, but not growing too large for the ponies, is to limit your hoard size. Consciously pick a size that you’d want to stay at, and stop hoarding when you reach that size. Get Sparkle to help you if you can’t stop yourself.” “Yeah… Yeah! This is great!” Spike began dancing to a silent orchestra and singing along. “I’mma be an a-dult! I’mma be an a-dult! Woo!” “Until then, feel free to come to me with questions. If I can answer them, I will.” “Oh, um, yeah.” Spike stopped dancing and coughed into his claws. “Um, do you know where I might get started?” “Pick a good spot to hoard in, and pick a good, nonperishable valuable substance to keep around. Gold, gems, books, weapons.” “Books?” “Never underestimate the power of knowledge.” “I… I can do that! I can make my own library!” “Yes… You can do that… Just remember if you do that yes, the ponies taking your books will return them. That is what a library is for, after all.” “Right, right.” “Well, since we’ve got most of the day left; do you want me to begin teaching you how to defend yourself?” Spike looked at the ground and scuffed his foot. “I… I want to take some time to think on that, actually. I mean, it’s one thing to be the potentially dangerous predator. Once I’m bigger, people will be even more afraid of me.” “And you worry that by being trained to fight, they’ll see you as more of a threat.” “Yeah…” Marwolaeth rubbed Spike on the head. “I understand. Just keep practicing your scale-singing for now. We may as well head back. Twilight might come looking for you.” Spike nodded and followed Marwolaeth back to the farmhouse, where Applejack was talking to Twilight and Fluttershy. Applejack waved the boys down when she saw them approaching. “Hey Pydredd! We were just talkin’ about you. Fluttershy an’ Twilight wanna have ya over fer some tea!” “Tea and questions?” “Um, well, maybe.” “Alright.” “Spike, would you like to join us?” Spike crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “Pff, tea and biscuits? No thanks. I’ll just head back to the library for some gems.” Twilight giggled. “Alright Spike. Have fun.” Marwolaeth, Twilight, Fluttershy and Applejack began walking away from town, down a dirt path. Marwolaeth turned to Twilight. “You let him eat gems on a regular basis?” “Well, yeah. It’s a staple in his diet.” Marwolaeth groaned and gently placed his hand over his visor. “Yes, they are a staple in his diet, just like sugar and caffeine is a staple in yours. Gems are to dragons as candy is to a pony.” “I… Oh. No wonder he’s always so eager to eat them. He can survive on them, though, right?” Marwolaeth sighed. “Yes, but it is not healthy for him. He should be eating meat.” Twilight gulped. “…I was afraid of that. Those incisors. The canines. I just… where am I going to get meat for him? He eats a lot, and meat is expensive in Equestria. There’s not even a place that sells meat in Ponyville!” Fluttershy coughed. “Um… I do.” She looked to the ground. Twilight jerked her head around to look at Fluttershy. “You do?” “Yes. It’s… It’s always a sad occasion when I do, though. I only preserve the animals that die of natural causes, but even then…” Fluttershy sniffed. “I always try to think of all the good times we had together when I… harvest the meat and preserve it. It just… It’s always so hard.” Marwolaeth soothingly petted Fluttershy’s head as she began to cry while Twilight hugged her friend. “It’s good that it hurts. Let’s you know that you’re not numb. That you still value life.” “I know…” Fluttershy sniffed and took a few deep breaths before smiling at Marwolaeth and Twilight. “I’m okay now. Thank you… both of you. I can… I can supply Spike with some meat every now and again.” “Thank you, Fluttershy. I’m sure that he’ll appreciate it.” The trio sat in silence for a few moments before Fluttershy stood up and led the group to her cottage, where they had been walking towards before they stopped to comfort her. The animals in the cottage immediately sensed Fluttershy’s sadness and mobbed her with sympathetic hugs. She smiled and went about making tea as Marwolaeth sat on the floor of her cottage and Twilight sat on the couch. “So, Pydredd.” “Mm?” “What had you wanted to talk to Spike about?” “I wanted to confirm a few suspicions, and talk to him about his plans for the future. Gave him some advice.” “Really? What’d you tell him?” “I told him how he could grow to the size that he should be.” Twilight’s eye twitched. “You… encouraged him to get greedy?” “Oh no. That would be foolish. Dragons increase in size according to the size of their hoard. I advised him to accumulate a small hoard, just enough to bring him to the proper size. He may ask for your help in moderating how much he keeps, though.” “Oh. Oh, good.” “I think he’s gotten it into his head to start a library to rival yours.” There was an audible ‘plink’ing sound as a strand of Twilight’s mane popped out of its place. “What.”