It took about two hours for the wolf to wake. In that time, Twilight had left Spike and Fluttershy and made some lunch in the cottage’s small kitchen downstairs, with Angel’s begrudging help, and only after Fluttershy had borderline commanded him to, her fatigue edging out the bulk of her patience for the bunny's grouchy attitude. The pegasus was conflicted about letting her friend do it at first, feeling like she was neglecting her duties as host, but her resolve for waiting for the wolf to wake won out, and she stayed behind with Spike. Spike had been briefed on the giant wolf’s apparent sentience, and was busy brainstorming names for the canine, until Twilight arrived with food. Twilight levitated her plate aside, and stacked it on top of Fluttershy’s once they had both finished to take them down to the sink. Spike was still eating, taking his time to savor the sandwiches she had made, munching happily. When he finished, Twilight took his plate too.
Fluttershy still needed a nap. She was leaning her head heavily against the wall, struggling to keep her eyes open. She had dark bags under her eyes, and she looked and felt completely exhausted. The long night and day had taken its toll on her, but she was fighting through the exhaustion. An animal needed her, and she wouldn't let something as silly as sleep keep her from helping. So, the wait continued.
The wolf coming back into consciousness wasn’t like when a pony wakes up. His head didn’t rise; there was no noise, no sleepy shift in his body. Twilight would have completely missed it if it wasn’t for Fluttershy. Even when extremely tired, her instinct and talent for animals let her see it first, and her head was off the wall in a flash. Twilight practically gave herself whiplash turning to see what had caught Fluttershy’s attention. One moment the wolf’s body was completely relaxed in sleep. The next, every single muscle was tensed, the iron-like bands of muscle snapping to defined attention. The wolf’s eyes didn’t open, and his breathing stayed regular, but there was no doubt about how awake he was.
Fluttershy was confused. Normally, when an animal awoke in an unfamiliar place, their first reaction was to fling themselves away from the nearest pony and flee. The wolf was biding its time, and she could faintly pick out the shuffling sound as it breathed in, taking in the scents of the room. It was trying to appear as if still asleep, but its instincts made its body tense at the first sign of danger. Or prey, Fluttershy thought, and swallowed nervously. Even though she loved and cared for all animals, huge predators struck a chord within her equine nature, one that made her want to run far, far away.
-----
The wolf could feel soft sheets underneath it, along with the pressure of something wrapped around his body. The horrible pain of his injuries had subsided to a burning ache in his side. He couldn’t feel any blood or dirt in his wounds and no airflow across them, which gave them the feel of being closed. Had he been cared for? He took small breaths of air through its nose in time with his heavy breathing, which he took extra care to keep steady. The familiar scent of cotton and wool filled his nose first, along with the smell of old wood and paint.
The wolf continued to smell, using the scents to make an indistinct picture of the room around him in his mind. He was fairly sure what he was lying on was a bed, with his back paws hanging off of the edge. He was inside a small room, the scent of dirt and oak woven through the wood, probably from a forest outside. Bandages, or some kind of cloth, were wrapped around his side and stomach, each with the slight metallic scent of his own blood. The wounds ached, feeling like hammers pounding underneath his skin. A thousand pinpricks of pain emphasized the edge of his injuries; stitches, maybe? What had happened?
Suddenly, the wolf knew that there were three things in the room with him. His nose was automatically guided in their direction. Two of them had similar smells, one that the wolf recognized, but couldn’t quite place in his slightly groggy state. The two things were spaced about three feet apart, near the end of the bed. Their individual scents were weaved into the bandages, along with the scent of magic. The two creatures were the ones who had cared for him then, he supposed. The middle object in between the other two was also familiar. The wolf had only even smelled this scent twice, and the last time it had been from a nose a thousand times worse than the one it had now, so the wolf had only dimly recognized it at first, but he knew now.
Dragon. The musty, dead, and corrupted scent the wolf had come to know as a dragon’s was partially present, more like an undertone, with a few differences. This one was alive, and the rancid scent that all Twilit beasts shared wasn’t present. The wolf could sense on some primitive level the blood pumping through the dragon’s veins, mixing with the scent of oak and dirt, undoubtedly from the forest that the wolf could smell outside. This was very bad news. He had fought dragons before, and knew how ferocious and dangerous they were, able to kill something his size with a single claw. In his current shape he couldn't fight or flee, and the only thing that kept the wolf from desperately trying was the size of the dragon. It was slightly smaller than his head; way to small to be a Twilit dragon or a blood thirsty beast. It seemed to . . . uncorrupted.
The wolf mulled over its options, which it determined were about none. He couldn’t pretend to sleep forever, and sooner or later the two creatures and the dragon would know he was awake. He couldn’t fight or run; he was too injured and he suspected that he would collapse in overwhelming pain if he tried to push his body for any real amount of time. Besides, these creatures had bandaged him, hadn’t they? The wolf was silently trying to decide what to do, when one of the creatures stood, the one on the dragon’s right side. It was smaller than he was, but not by much, he judged. The creature slowly made its way over to the wolf with distinct clopping sounds, one that the wolf immediately identified as horse hooves. With a mental click, the wolf put the pieces together. The scent he had recognized from before was equine, albeit different, as if younger, more innocent in a way. A pony, then, he supposed.
Were there really two ponies in the room with him, and they had cared for him, with magic no less? His confusion growing by the second, he decided to wait until the pony stopped next to him. Then it spoke.
“Um . . . hello, Mr. Wolf,” The voice was distinctly female, and very soft and hesitant, but the wolf picked up the half-whisper fine. Despite his efforts to stay still, his surprise that the pony could talk caused him to flinch back in surprise, ears swiveling toward the sound, and his eyes flew open, focusing on the sight in front of him.
The pony let out a terrified “eep!” at his sudden movement, and fell backward into a white wooden wall, her eyes wide with fear. If the wolf didn’t have an incredible amount of self-control, his eyebrows would have been floating over his head in surprise at the admittedly adorable sight. As it was he only let out a confused whine, his head slightly tilting as much as the bed allowed. Well, he was right about the pony part, as far as he could tell. She was definitely a quadruped equine, but different than the horses the wolf was used to, with thicker legs and bigger eyes. It was perhaps the oddest thing the wolf had seen in a very long time. She was yellow and pink, the bright color scheme not helping the wolf incredulity. She was supporting itself on the wall, large green eyes filled with fear, her long pink bangs hiding half of her face. The wolf could see three butterflies on her flank, and she had wings, each folded close to her sides.
This time the wolf’s eyebrows did rise. He had seen some weird stuff in his lifetime, and this was close to the top. The terrified yellow pony (pegasus?) seemed to gather her courage, and stood up off of the wall onto all fours, but the wolf could smell the fear radiating off of her, a scent of mostly sweat and of other things the wolf had no real words for.
She swallowed and spoke again. “Um, hello. My name is Fluttershy, and I was wondering, um . . . How are you feeling?” The last part was squeaked out, with the mare hiding behind her bangs even futher.
The wolf figured he had nothing to lose at this point, his curiosity at the strange situation overriding his suspicion, and tried to reply. As every time before, only a small huff escaped at his attempted greeting.
“Well hello there, I’m so glad you are feeling better,” The mare said softly, and her smile shone with happiness. The wolf was shocked into complete silence, lying there unmoving.
-----
Twilight watched Fluttershy start her conversation, and was as amazed as ever at Fluttershy’s ability to talk with animals. To her it looked like Fluttershy was somehow making responses out of thin air. How did a quiet huff and a wag of the wolf’s tail mean “Hello?” She had no idea, but figured she would leave Fluttershy to her own devices; she was the animal expert in the room. Fluttershy managed to coax the wolf into being more comfortable, and Twilight could see the wolf’s muscles relax. Spike was practically vibrating with excitement, and, unable to contain his excitement, jumped up and raced to Fluttershy’s side.
“Hi! I’mSpikeandyouareagiantwolfthat’ssocoolwhat’syour Gah!” Spike’s exclamation turned into a cry of surprise and fear as the wolf reacted. It was so fast Twilight only caught the movement as a streak of black and white. One moment, Spike was standing at Fluttershy’s left, the next he was pressed into the wall by a giant paw, black claws digging into his scales.
The wolf had leapt out of the bed, and was pinning Spike to the wall with a giant paw, pressing him into the wood. The wolf’s body was completely tensed under his coat, and his face was lowered so it was almost pressing into Spike’s, eyes alight with anger. The manacle and chain clinked softly as it rapped against Spike’s scales. The baby dragon’s face was slightly drained of color, his eyes wide and terrified. Fluttershy had leapt clear when the wolf had acted, and stood cowering a few feet away. The wolf bared its huge fangs and growled deep in its throat, a rumbling sound that sent vibrations through Twilight’s body. Despite the black wolf being unable to speak, the message couldn’t have been clearer. Back off.
Twilight was very scared. She could see the bandages wrapped around the wolf’s body started to soak in red blood, and she had no doubt that the wolf had pulled some of his stitches. But despite the excruciating pain the wolf must have been in, it hadn’t hesitated at all to make its lighting fast move. The wolf released Spike with another small growl, shoving him away. Spike scrambled back to Twilight’s side, huddling against her body, staring wide-eyed at the wolf. She could feel him shivering through her coat. Twilight blinked, and immediately cursed herself for not acting, not even with her magic. Her inaction could have put Spike in serious danger, and she pulled the little dragon closer.
The wolf’s frightening mask broke, and he let out a pained whimper, ears flattening to the sides of his head. He was shaky on his paws, unbalanced and seemingly on the edge of collapsing. Fluttershy recovered from her shock, and shook herself to clear her head.
“No, no!” She exclaimed softly. She pushed against the wolf’s huge side with her head, but Twilight doubted that Fluttershy could have moved him if he didn’t want to be moved. “Back into bed with you!” The wolf allowed her to push it back on top of the bed, whining and whimpering in pain. Fluttershy bit her lip when she saw the red bandages, and she slowly peeled them away, revealing the red mess his stitches had become. “You’ve pulled some stitches,” Fluttershy scolded. “Twilight is going to put them back in, and then you will apologize to Spike for treating him so roughly.” She said adamantly. The wolf rolled his eyes slightly but huffed in acknowledgement, as the pain was making him much less inclined to argue.
Twilight set about fixing the stitches at Fluttershy’s request, but she stood as far away from the wolf as possible, using her magic to do it. She eyed the wolf warily and with no small amount of fear, and the thought that she had no anesthesia on hoof didn't even cross her mind. The wolf didn’t care. He eyed her with stoic unconcern, his shockingly blue eyes bored, barely flinching as the needle slid in and out of his skin. When Twilight was done, she sat back next to Spike, wrapping one of her wings around him for comfort. The wolf pushed himself to his paws with a few quiet whines of pain, and stood next to the bed.
Fluttershy pointed to Spike with a hoof, and her face could have been set in stone. The wolf huffed in annoyance before crossing over to sit on its haunches in front of Twilight and Spike. Once again Twilight was struck by his massive size. He gave a low bark, and his tail thumped once on the floor.
Fluttershy stood next to the wolf. After a second, the yellow pegasus smiled, before leaning in and nuzzling Spike’s cheek. As she straightened, she spoke softly.
“His name is Link, and he says he is sorry.”