Will To Survive

by Zephyr Spark

Part 9 The Best Laid Plans

Spike dug his gemstone daggers into the bark and quickly scaled the tree. After a day of nonstop practice, he could scale over a quarter of the tree in three minutes. An incredible accomplishment but he doubted this speed would suffice for his plan so he pushed himself for another hour. His muscles screamed in agony from the exertion and his breathing was shallow as his heart desperately hammered in his chest. Thankfully, his efforts were not unrewarded; his arm and leg muscles were taut, his calloused hands were hard, and he was exceeding all of his expectations. Two minutes and he crossed the halfway point, two more minutes and he reached his goal near the upper trunk: a patch of wonder moss pinned to the bark with a knife.

He paused a minute to carefully remove the moss, knowing every second counted. With the moss in both hands, Spike leapt from the tree and lifted it over his head, catching the breeze to slow his descent. He still crashed into the ground painfully, but with a pile of wonder moss he placed nearby and his oh so useful armor, he was up and running in seconds. The drake reached his refuge to shelter himself from the wasps, a cave he discovered while scouting the land. Panting and sweating, Spike hoisted a large bark door, layered with wonder moss, sore fruit, and sharpened gemstones over the entrance and reinforced it with sturdy branches, sealing out intruders

Four minutes to climb the tree, one minute to retrieve the moss, ten seconds to fall, and three minutes and fifteen seconds to reach the cave. Total: eight minutes and twenty-five seconds. He knew it was an impressive improvement over his initial one hour, ten minutes, and forty second record, but he needed to get faster. He walked around the cave while breathing, trying to steady himself. His head was spinning and the even most insignificant muscles throbbed with pain, but it would all be worth it if he pulled this off. Was he ready? Spike shuddered. This plan wasn’t just insane; it was suicidal. Still, there weren’t any other options; he had to overcome his fears and do it sooner or later. He’d already delayed this scheme for two days just training and scouting. Any longer, and he might never work up the courage. He left to retrieve his gemstone daggers from the tree and replace the moss, deciding a little more practice wouldn’t hurt so long as he could act when push came to shove.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This is insane,” Spike whispered once again. He talked quietly so the giant wouldn’t notice him watching from a tree. Sadly, following her wasn’t the really insane thing. A few hours of planning and ruminating on Sir Knight’s words about using an enemy had gotten Spike thinking. He didn’t have any real friends who would follow him into battle, but there were plenty of creatures that would love to make a meal of him. If he could trick one of those creatures into getting close to the nest and provoke the wasps, he might be able to take a piece of their nest while the wasps focused on the intruder. As long as the creature was tough, resilient, and reckless, it could endure the wasp onslaught long enough for Spike’s purposes.

Roadblock number one: which creature could do that? Spike went over a dozen different creatures before rejecting them. Pinchy’s armor might withstand the swarm, but he would run away to the pond at the sight of danger, not stay and fight. Finger-face was a skilled fighter, but relied on blending in and then striking. The moment she burst out from hiding to snag a wasp she’d be covered, and there would still be more than enough wasps left to deal with him. There could be another Scorpio in the forest, but how could it take on an entire army? He considered Cento, but didn’t want to come close to her; she could pursue him up the tree and eat him before he even reached the wasps. Not to mention, he had no idea how she would fare in combat with multiple opponents. She might overpower a scorpion but could she endure unending assaults? If he didn’t know for sure, he couldn’t take the chance. Spike even considered those log creatures, the Sickle-heads, and the sharp-headed worm, Fang, but neither seemed interested in venturing beyond their homes. Unfortunately, this process of elimination left only one creature and he was following her right now: Behemoth.

Spike spent a day studying her movements. She seemed to have a marked territory extending several miles and devoured anything she could catch with her razor claws and daggered teeth. Those crabs and grasshoppers never stood a chance. Not even a Speedy could escape her ambush. After a successful hunt, she returned home: a flat clearing surrounded by bushes and leaf litter beside a green pond. Her children would race from the bushes, where they hid all day, and suckle. This time, she wouldn’t let them drink her milk and dropped a freshly killed cricket before the youngsters. Reluctantly, they ate the cricket whole, leaving scarce remains for the few flies bold enough to pick at their leftovers. The mother then curled up like a jungle cat and slept while her little ones play-wrestled within her line of sight.

The more he watched the family, the more he wanted to find another way. There were too many possible factors that could ruin not only his plans but this family’s life. If his plan succeeded and Behemoth overwhelmed or stalled the wasps, everything would work out perfectly. The best possible outcome: the mother returned with a banquet of wasp meat and they went about their day. Slightly less optimal: Behemoth limped back home and spent a day licking her wounds in pain. On the other hand, the mother could receive some fatal injury and perish beside her children. Worst of all, she might never come home, and the forest would have two new orphans. What was he thinking? He couldn’t risk destroying an entire family and potentially drive a unique, undiscovered species to extinction.

But, didn’t he want to get back home? His soul longed to see Ponyville once again, to find Twilight, Rarity, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, and Starlight waiting for him. Oh, how he missed the sweet smell of Sugar Cube Corner and the tangy fragrance of Sweet Apple Acres, the brightness of the sun rising over the horizon, and the comfort of his soft, fluffy bed. More than anything, he wanted Twilight, just touch her and know she was real. Yes, without a doubt he wanted to return home, but that didn’t put him in the right. He shook his head and clenched the bark of his branch where he hid. Ends never justify the means; he reminded himself.

And what about the wasps? They were just going about their business like Diggies. What right did he have to lead a potential destroyer to their home? Well, there were plenty of wasps for the hive to endure losing a few dozen or even hundred, but if Behemoth destroyed their nest they would have nothing left. Spike listened to the offspring’s chirpings as he pondered the dilemma, when he noticed several tall blades of grass a few feet to the left of the children twitching unnaturally.

He squinted trying to pick out the creature sneaking into the leaf litter. Hidden in the undergrowth, the unmistakable body of a centipede shifted into the leaf pile. Unlike Cento, this centipede was shorter, less bulky, and had a lustered white and orange body with a more ovular head. Still, it had massive poisonous fangs and antennae whipping as it scoped out the Behemoths. The mother was asleep, the children blissfully unaware of the approaching danger. Spike refused to stand by helplessly while another species perished and wracked his brain for a solution. He couldn’t race down the tree in time, and even then, what was he going to do against a centipede or Behemoth when she turned on him?

Remembering his mimicry from the previous day, Spike inhaled and released a chirping cry eerily similar to the offspring. The children stopped playing, Behemoth’s head rose as her eyes darted to the startled offspring. Hidden in the grass, the centipede remained motionless but had yet to back down. The drake repeated his cry with more volume, trying to send some warning. Her eyes came Spike’s hiding place. Rising to her feet, Behemoth approached the tree and lifted her front legs high onto the trunk, her hind legs supporting her weight as she sniffed the air. Spike resisted his urge to gulp. If Behemoth though he was a lost pup and climbed the tree to find him, his noble intentions would be his death.

Behemoth stayed like that for minutes then she turned. Her nose led her face away from Spike’s perch to the grass on the northern side of the clearing. Putting her feet back on the ground, Behemoth silently turned to her children and flicked her head. Obediently, they darted into the bushes in the opposite direction. The mother drew her body close to the ground and glided across the earth like a phantom, without cracking a branch or even crunching a leaf. Her yellow eyes stared at the brown leaf litter with intent as she drew closer. She stopped a few feet from her target. Her haunches coiled and then she sprang, pouncing at the centipede with outstretched fangs and an open maw.

With no time to react, the centipede was pinned to the ground by massive paws as a jaws clamped down on its antennae head. The multi-legged body wriggled under the assault before its other end crawled onto Behemoth’s paw. Then Spike realized this end had fangs and antennae; this was the real head. Behemoth mistook its long tails for antennae and bit the wrong end. The centipede arched its head and snapped at Behemoth’s paw, not even chipping its armor. It kept biting ferociously but couldn’t pierce the outer hide. It kept struggling and lashed at Behemoth’s eyes. Behemoth narrowly avoided the venomous head but lost her grip, allowing the centipede to slip from her grasp. Behemoth gave chase as the centipede raced to a tree. Quickly, it ascended the trunk out of reach. Behemoth stared at the tree for several minutes and roared, going as far to shake the tree with her massive paws. An hour later, she returned to her resting place, keeping an open eye on the tree. As the children emerged, Spike released a breath he unconsciously held. He did it. He helped a momma protect her babies. No one had to die today, not even the centipede. Honestly, he couldn’t have hoped for a better outcome.

This encounter taught him some valuable lessons. Behemoth’s body could resist even a centipede’s powerful fangs, so tanking multiple wasp stings shouldn’t be a problem. Secondly, she could not in fact climb up trees so she wouldn’t be able to hurt the wasp nest. Some wasps might die in the fight but the colony as a whole would endure. Even if they died that wouldn’t be the complete end for them. Finally, this momma would respond to her children’s call or to his imitation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike stood at the danger spot, with two gem knives on his hip belt, a long spear on his back, and a stone in hand. One more step and the wasps would spring on the intruder. At the moment, they were seemingly asleep and clung to the nest and covered it like a blanket. It took him hours to work up the courage just to step this far and he had yet to lure Behemoth to the nest. How was he planning to do that again? Spike slapped his head in irritation, realizing he hadn’t even considered how he’d lead Behemoth back to the nest. There wasn’t a hope of outrunning that nimble creature all the way from its home to the nest on foot.

He mimicked the little Behemoth chirpings absentmindedly. Perhaps, some illogical part of his mind thought she would respond to the sounds. She was on her nightly patrols; he knew she was too busy hunting on her usual paths to hear his sounds. The wasps’ wings stirred and the blanket of folded wings trembled slightly, prompting Spike to lower his voice. He sighed and turned around back to the trees. Two yellow orbs stared at him through the darkness. Just like his first day … Spike relived that chase in vivid memory. His legs were lead; he couldn’t move even as he saw her approaching. This was it. All the pieces were in place for his plan: the wasps were asleep, he was within running distance of the tree and within running distance of the cave, a pillow of wonder moss was in place to cushion his fall, and Behemoth was feet away. He’d never get another opportunity like this. He had to act now or he might as well become dinner or just consign himself to a life in Underworld.

Clenching the stone in his hand, Spike chirped again. Behemoth was meters away, nose twitching in the air. She tried to make sense of him, discern whether he was her child, her prey, or a danger. Remembering home, Spike kept chirping while drawing back his arm. The moment he stopped chirping, he released the rock at Behemoth’s head. Tiny as it was, the stone hit Behemoth’s head with an audible sound. That did it. Behemoth charged and Spike raced to the wasp nest.

His long days of exercise paid off in spades as he barreled to the tree far ahead of Behemoth. He slowed his pace to keep her interested, and sure enough she was hot on his heels. Even with the few wasps flying around her, she was intent on one target. Daggers in his hands, Spike jumped on the tree and climbed. His tail barely avoided her jaws snapping shut and her outstretched claws. The tree shook as she slammed it with her paws. Although his palms dripped with sweat, Spike would not release his grip. Now the buzzing noise was furious. He could see wasps leaving the nest by the hundreds to fight this intruder, while missing the smaller one. Soon the nest was practically empty. Sixty seconds.

He reached the bottom of the nest at last and stepped into the hollow of the tree. Racing to the outermost wall, Spike sliced off a large piece of the nest. He didn’t have time to admire its texture or firmness. Behemoth had already snapped apart several of their brethren and demonstrated she wasn’t going to surrender even as the wasps poured out in greater numbers. The wasps were now mobilizing on the threat destroying their nest. Jumping from the tree, Spike opened the paper like a parachute gliding towards the pillow of wonder moss. Thirty seconds.

He hadn’t accounted for the difference between wonder moss and the nest piece as a parachute. The nest piece didn’t spread out like the moss and slow his fall; it remained rigid as he plummeted towards the pile. He winded himself on the landing but was still in one piece. Sputtering, Spike rose to his feet and hobbled to the cave feet away. Trying to push past the pain, Spike sped his pace. Behemoth was still fighting hundreds of them, but three wasps chasing him were gaining quickly. Ten seconds.

He was feet away from the cave, clutching the nest piece under his left arm, when a wasp locked its jaws onto the nest fragment halting his movement. Spike shook the piece franticly hoping to dislodge the creature, but the fragment began to tear, cracks forming on its surface. He couldn’t let this go on much longer. This struggle put his prize and his own life in danger. The wasps circled him in a whirlwind of buzzing. His armor could take their mandibles and stingers easily and protect him for some time, but if they surrounded him and pinned him to the ground he’d have no way to escape their endless onslaught and with enough time they would penetrate his armor. Then again, they just might pile on the drake and suffocate him. Letting one hand go, he punched the wasp’s face. It staggered, completely surprised. Spike jabbed again, this time between the compound eyes, and the wasp released its grip and fell back. Two more wasps quickly took their comrade’s place and tugged on the piece. He was now losing ground as the wasps dragged him away from his shelter. Forty-five seconds

Spike realized there must have been fifteen or more of these creatures and each second brought another wasp into the clearing. At the moment, they simply buzzed around him, allowing the two soldiers pulling on the nest to do their job alone. Even if they preferred one-on-one duels and wouldn’t attack him all at once, he couldn’t outlast an entire army. Either, he died at this swarm or he escaped and cut his losses. Cut! That’s it! Spike’s talons raked across the nest, snatching a small hand-sized piece, before he released his grip and ran. The wasps fell backwards with their momentum. Using every ounce of his strength, Spike bounded to the cave. Diving into the hole, he seized the bark door and shoved it over the entrance. Outside, he could hear the wasps buzzing everywhere and poking at the barrier. Digging two sticks into the ground at roughly sixty-degree angles, Spike reinforced the wall. It trembled but held strong. Fifteen seconds.

Now, he had to wait out the storm. Briefly, Spike wondered if his foes would not give up. He recalled some species of bees would follow an enemy if they jumped into a pond to hide and simply wait for their quarry to emerge for breath before attacking. True, he wasn’t underwater but he only had so much food and water stashed in the cave. He had inky berries to write that letter and the nest piece, so he might not even have to last a siege. Suddenly, the little drake recognized a fatal error in his plan. With his bark door covering the entrance, he shut off his primary source of air. Even if he got the message to his friends, he would still have to endure the next couple of hours until they found him. He had to leave the cave for air eventually, and the wasps would be waiting.

Mind racing, Spike sought a solution. He paced across the dirt, trying to steady his breathing. Maybe, he could dig a hole to the surface for air? Sure, while he was at it he could invite the wasps right into his shelter for a party. But what if the hole was too small for them? For all he knew, these creatures were expert diggers, capable of widening his tunnels. There was no other solution; he just had to outlast the army. Sitting on the ground, he voted to conserve his energy and delay writing the letter until it was absolutely safe, for him and his family. Wouldn’t do them any good if they came down just to get swarmed. In the mean time, he had to reduce his dependence on oxygen and slow his heart rate. Miraculously, Spike had a way to do both. Twilight had dabbled in meditation, particularly for her magical studies. He infrequently joined these sessions and knew the basic principles. If he could just relax his body and enter that alternate state of mind, he would hold out thirty minutes or even an hour on a minimum air supply. Hopefully, the wasps would give up by then.

Taking a deep breath through his nose, he filled his lungs before exhaling. His heart was already pounding from all his activity, demanding oxygen. He told it to calm down and closed his eyes in concentration. Eventually, his pulse steadied. The angry drone outside filled his ears, making him uneasy. Ignoring the sound, Spike placed his hands on his knees and focused on his breathing. Soon, the sound dimmed. One minute and twenty seconds. It all came out to an even four minutes. Well, four plus however long he had to wait.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One hour and six minutes. Spike slipped from his meditation with an aching head and could no longer hear the sounds of wasps. Stumbling to the door, he wrenched it open and gasped for air. Not a wasp in sight. Thank goodness. Any longer and he would have suffocated. Once he had air in his lungs, he began to grin. His plan worked. He had the paper; he could finally message home. Turning around, Spike raced back inside to retrieve his prize. Excitement and lack of oxygen muddled his thoughts. When his focus returned, he had a new problem. Where was it? In his hasty escape, he must have haphazardly tossed the paper somewhere in the cave. He was so focused on retreating and putting up his wall that he couldn’t remember where he dropped it. Squinting, he scanned every inch of the cave. All he could see were his tools, the dirt, and pebbles. Apprehensively, he overturned every stone, shifted through all his equipment, but still couldn’t find anything. He had a handful of the stuff when he reached the cave. It couldn’t just disappear.

Crumpled against the cave wall, a sliver of brownish-white caught his eyes. He pealed the substance from the rocks and turned it over in his hands. Spike finally saw his true failure resting in his palms, far greater than neglecting air. In his carelessness, he must have lost the handful of paper while escaping those wasps. Now, he only had a measly scrap of wrinkled, soggy residue smaller than his pinkie finger. His teeth trembled. It was already a gamble whether the paper nest could reach the princess, but with this pathetic piece, his chances sending any message became slimmer. Unless he found more, there wouldn’t be any second chances; he’d have to send this alien material to her majesty the first time. After storing his meager consolation prize in a belt pouch, he raced back outside the cave hoping to find some scraps on the ground, but ten minutes of searching and not a trace was left.

He kept looking, telling himself he could find something. Spike pulled out blades of grass, overturned boulders, and searched the leaf litter. After yanking another blade of grass, he gazed at the ground he deformed in his search. Spike ripped the grass to shreds, and slammed his fist into the ground. He should have known better. If he ran faster, he would have reached the cave without a problem and gone home right now. Instead, he had get into a stupid tug of war with oversized bugs. Now, he could kiss seeing Equestria goodbye. Tears welled in his eyes and flowed until his eyes stung red. He closed his stinging eyes and curled up on the forest floor. Staring at the forest while lying on his side made the trees look like prison bars. This place was a miracle; the most breathtaking lush world in existence, but he wanted to return home. He couldn’t retrieve paper from the wasp’s nest again. Another perfect situation exactly like the one over an hour ago might never arise again. All the necessary factors aligned purely out of coincidence would never reconvene. More than anything, Spike just lacked the will to try again. He couldn’t do this. Have hope dangled in front of him, let him touch it, only to lose it.

Still lying down, he dug his hand into his pouch and retrieved the sliver. In the palm of his hand, it was an insect. After all that planning and work, his efforts only amounted to this trash. Well, at least he retrieved anything. He had no confidence the substance could work, but he saw no reason not to try. At least, this cruel reminder would vanish. Trudging back to his cave, Spike dipped a twig in inky berry paste and held it over the sliver. For the longest time, he wondered what to write. There was barely any room for a Dear Princess Celestia, much less to detail his precise location or his entire ordeal. At last, Spike settled for two words and crammed them on the front and back. Once the ink dried, Spike rolled up the thimble parchment and bound it with a thin glow vine string.

Holding the parchment before his mouth, Spike gulped. This was the moment of truth; either the parchment would disintegrate to ash or it would vanish from sight, possibly reaching the princess or failing to reach any pony. He took a deep breath and whispered, “Please don’t fail me.”

With that, he enveloped the sliver in green flames. The edges singed, turning black, but then it vanished with the dragon’s message: Help. Spike. He waited several minutes. Wondering if he might receive signal outside the cave, he stepped into the open with the inky berry paste and writing stick. Several more minutes and nothing happened. Spike didn’t want to entertain his hopeful notion any longer and torment himself. Lacking any strength, his gaze fell to the ground. His legs gave way and he fell to his knees. Claws kept his head from smacking to the ground as an ache grew in his stomach. Figuring his hunger cramps were the source, the drake reached his food pouch for a gem. Bringing the green gem before his jaws, he opened his mouth to eat, but green flames burst free. Spike’s eyes widened and he lost his grip of the gem as a scroll bearing the royal seal dropped from his flames. Filled with excitement, he snatched the scroll and unraveled it. He strained his eyes to make out the text, so he lit up a red gemstone knife. A smile grew on his face as he read the princess’s handwriting.

Spike? Is that you? We’ve been looking for you for five days now. Some strange interference kept me from getting a message through to you and my sister couldn’t reach your dreams. Both of us have been having difficulty pinpointing your exact location. I’m assuming you don’t have access to traditional paper, so use this scroll’s empty space and tell me where you are.
-Celestia

Spike nearly cried with jubilation. It worked. His crazy-brained scheme actually worked. He raced to a nearby stone with his twig and inky berry paste. Brimming with eager anticipation, he dipped the stick into the paste with a trembling hand and wrote a slapdash message.

Earthquake opened hole at tree of harmony. Fell into earth thousands of feet to water. Trapped in underground jungle with giant bugs and monsters trying to eat me. It’s not safe here. Be careful.
-Spike

In a burst of flames, the scroll vanished. Within seconds, his stomach ached and flames leapt from his mouth, releasing a new scroll.

Understood. Luna and I will meet with Twilight and Cadence at the tree and begin tunneling through the earth with our magic. As we cannot teleport someplace we’ve never been, drilling is the only option. We have to move slowly so the cave won’t collapse, but I don’t think it should take longer than five or ten minutes. Just stay put and when we’ve reached the jungle, we’ll contact you immediately and arrange a meeting place. Until then, stay alive. You’ll be home soon, Spike.
-Celestia

He could scarcely contain his joy as he danced and sang without a care, new strength sparked in his body. Underworld threw its monsters at him but he overcame every last one, and now he was going home. Ceasing his celebration, he surveyed the forest in tranquil contemplation. With his friends coming to take him home, this wasn’t a prison; it was a beautiful paradise filled with amazing creatures that would no longer hunt him and miracles the world had yet to discover. Neither he nor the forest had to die for the other to survive. He just couldn’t stop smiling. Too late, Spike realized his fatal mistake. He foolishly did something always led to trouble, the one thing that Sir Knight told him never to do; he let his guard down. Mandibles clamped down on his moss-covered tail with an iron grip. Completely surprised, Spike yelped before turning to look at the aggressor. With black, hairy head bearing segmented antennae and tiny eyes attached to a skinny body with six legs and a rounded, orange abdomen ending in a lethal stinger, this ant had him in its vice grip.

It overpowered him and knocked him to his belly. Refusing surrender, Spike wriggled and squirmed, lashing out at the ant with his claws and gemstone knife. Scoring a shallow blow on the underbelly, the ant finally loosened its grip enough for Spike to break free. He rolled away, jumped to his feet, and drew his spear. Snarling at the puppy-sized ant, he puffed smoke and embers at the foe before taking a step forward and lunging in a mock charge. The ant flinched at his bluff but did not withdraw. Instead, it circled around and then bulleted at him. Spike leapt out of the way and smacked the ant with the flat end of the spear. It crumpled to the ground, but quickly rose up.

He almost found this little fellow’s persistence amusing until he heard what sounded like the stampede of a thousand buffaloes. Through the trees several meters away, a flood was pouring from the undergrowth. This flood marched in a horde composed of billions of individuals, some Spike’s size and others smaller, all heading in the exact same direction. He took a step backwards and glanced at the cave. His bark barrier had already suffered abuse; it couldn’t take any more punishment, especially from this horde. At the rate they were approaching, he wouldn’t have time to replace it or hide. Then, Spike remembered something else Sir Knight told him just a few days ago: you can’t take on an entire army by yourself.

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“No, not now. Not when I was so close. Can’t give up yet…”

Author's Note:

Creatures Encountered:
Behemoth
Geophilomorph centipede
Paper Wasp
Paper Wasp Horde
Army Ant Worker
Driver Ant Colony

Comments

[Ekhidna]

Holy shit, this is awesome.

[Draconicus the Reaper]

wait I thought behemoth was a centipede

[DreamyBlaze]

7355618
undiscovered species... apparently

spike was really cool though

[Zephyr Spark]

7355618 Behemoth (with a capital B) = the monster Spike encountered on the first day before meeting Sir Knight
Cento = the centipede from part 7

[Zephyr Spark]

7355244 Thank you! I'm glad you liked it.

[Zephyr Spark]

7355991 Correct, Behemoth is a fictional, undiscovered species. If she were real, Behemoth would probably be classified as a Synapsid or a mammal-like reptile.

Glad you liked Spike in this chapter!

[DreamyBlaze]

7356987
its definately up there with my top ten stories (would say top five but one aughor in this website has like six stories his writing and they are all great and that is a hard complement to get when you write crossover stories)

[Zephyr Spark]

7357091 Well, thanks for your support.

[DreamyBlaze]

7357173
hey you Dont mind if i ask you to read my story would you. I want opinions on it before i continue... and finish with my art classes but that is irrelevant. Please.

[Draconicus the Reaper]

7356976 oh ok

[Zephyr Spark]

7357193 Sure. Send me a link and I'll check it out when I have enough time.

[DreamyBlaze]

http://www.fimfiction.net/story/284002/when-dreams-cross-dreams
>7360788
here you go but remember my very first story with many things planned only reason why it's not finished is lazyness and alot of really good stories.

[Funkalicious]

This story deserves more recognition. A masterpiece.

[BlueStarred Spike]

Spike finally got a message... but unfortunately, he let his guard down
7356987
while I was reading this, I imagined Behemoth as something that looks like a monstrous wolf with scales