Shunted among the sloping mountain ranges to the west and spilling out into the beautiful rolling hills to the east, the bountiful Whitetail Woods are home to many wonders. Sightings of strange creatures and stories of lucid experiences are common when you drop the mere place name forest. It is a place of wonders cupping on the seashore.

Yet while it might be a wonderful place it's also a very badly charted one. Estimates on the size of the forest are made every passing year, even though detailed calculations of its size can be made with the help of pegasi. One day a size for the forest crops up, and the next day a rambling explorer disproves it.

Sweet green canopies and lush undergrowth invite any and all into the bowels of the forest. Infact bowels is a very good term for the forest innards due to their sheer size. All sorts of explorers have lost themselves in the trees for months on end, sometimes even years. Travellers are sucked up by the forest and some of the departed never even return.

It is because of these disappearances that foul and fickle rumours abound. Therefore whenever thinking about the Whitetail Woods, it's good to bear in mind the distinction between fact and fiction. What we do and don't know are always key things the unwary adventurer needs to remind himself of when preparing to explore.

However there exists a distinct grey area. Few of the legends that surround the mystical forest are based on somewhat truth. Starswirl the Bearded, scholar to the sun, wrote of a city of pearl white and obsidian black. With spires and columns that reached up to the stars, stairways that never ended and doubled in on themselves and even doors to nowhere and everywhere.

Perhaps if he had given the city a name then there may be an endeavour to decipher his cryptic messages. All the things he wrote of were related to the magical workings of our world, and some believe this fabled city to be a very important key. But as all fairy tales it ended abruptly.

Light lapping waves gently nudged the side of the lake as a leaf settled on the surface. It was midday and the sun was out in full force as it journeyed across the sky. Clear water stretched out as far as the eye could see in all directions. Three sides of the perfect lake were cropped off with a short shore and a sudden wall of trees. It was a mysterious canopy that seemed to hum with life.

The remaining side of the lake was backed off by a huge mountain. Craggy cliffs jutted from its surface and densely packed trees collected around the lower sides. However beautiful the lake may have looked it was unsettling to a degree, because the sun was not reflected nor the bottom seen.

Skipping stones skid across the water suddenly. Making a plopping noise thrice before sliding once more and making a splash. All four of the thrown stones carried out the same pattern. However within this limbo between two places a solitary respite existed. Muddy yellow stone rose from the water for about an inch or three, forming a base.

Upon that base of dirty limestone there sat a pearl cathedral. It was a rather small cathedral mind you, about the size of a bungalow that'd been hit by a stick of TNT; but there it was. Frail grey bricks stacked up and up on one another to form a small dirty tower. It leaned over the water like an expectant mother.

Thrown up against it were some faded white tiles that arched over to form a half-oval. A few windows peeked out from the sides with shattered glass panes, and even a black brick roof on the tower. Supports had failed and the roof of the main building had fallen in on itself; from within bloomed a canopy of green.

Pillars lined the side of the half oval before one split and fell slightly into the water; somehow still standing despite the rest of the building disappearing. Underwater was where the ruins led it would seem. Off in the distance some way there were arches and pillars made of faded marble. Covered in weeds with trees and vines wrapped around them these monoliths blended in almost unnoticed.

There wasn't an entrance or an exit to this place. It just sat atop the water alone and crumbling. There was a door to this place, but opening it only led you to the lake and the shore beyond. Wind scarcely danced along the lake surface or anything else within the glade. Throughout the glade was still and calm as if time had just stopped.

Within the building there were many things to notice. When you walked through the rotten doors you would be provided a staircase with which to walk down to the main "level" of the church. Wooden supports were run across the floor in a sort of chequered pattern. Clumps of rotten planks were nailed to them here and there. The middle of the level was dominated by an oval hole flanked by ornate wooden fencing.

The hole was flooded with water, and perhaps had once had a meaning; now lost. Strips of cloth were loosely hanging from the alcoves of the archways along the sides. Musky air hung limp in the tight and dimly lit space. A bright glow washed over the floor for a few inches before the level above blocked it from view. Only splinters of white escaped through the wooden floor above.

Small silent mice and scheming savage rats had not made homes here. The lower floor of the chapel was devoid of all forms of life and not even a breeze dared enter. Pure water was invading the lower area of the decaying building, it was drowning the infrastructure as the floor fell into its maw over time.

Tapestries hanging forlorn and etched with little but lichen and blood lined the upper floor walls. Tiny shattered glass windows were surrounded by ivy and lilac devilweed. Hollow frames were only filled with the place holders for what had once been beautiful glass artwork.

Frail chains were strewn across the roof and dangling down to the floor in heaps, vines had crawled up the metal and taken over the bindings. One single chandelier sat at the very back of the building besides the front doors; it had fallen without fuss. Dusty old pews were lined up and facing a forgotten service.

Blue clear water stretched out for miles before being met by the shoreline beyond, and the broken chapel had such a view. Where the building ended abruptly the open air began. It had fallen apart at an angle and as such the left side was slightly larger than the right. Floorboards were rotten and slack yet somehow supporting the audience of one.

Order was discarded thanks to the missing pew on the right-hand side; probably fell away with the floor. Beyond the walls of this limbo jutted a single warped mass of wood and rose gold. Pipes and keys were strewn in an upward and ungodly manner. A statue merely sat atop a tower made of rotten wood.

Spike sat alone on the left front-most pew with his legs lax and his arms slack slightly. His bipedal form was roughly the right size to sit in the strange seat with little discomfort, yet he wasn't exactly fussed about sitting correctly. One of his arms was wrapped around the back of the pew while his other rested on his lap.

Rough lines were worn into his fingers and carved paths through the small scales before his claw. Minuscule bags sat under his sunken eyes while he stared out towards the statue. Much like his clothing the statue had an unkempt look with a pleasing effect. It was certainly a very spiritual object, containing tell-tale signs of divinity.

The young dragon had known of and met few gods in his time but the one depicted before him seemed to transcend the sculpture it had been encased within. It was not unlike the statue of Discord he had once seen. Deep black obsidian was tinted with rose gold, both pleasing and disturbing.

With a sigh he pulled his hood up with his right hand before standing up. Leather straps that hung off his coat jostled while be rummaged through a bag by his side. Bizarre things lay inside but a rarer one was retrieved and rolled around in his thin pointy fingers. Blue crystal sat in-between his thumb and index finger as he stared into the jewel.

An arm wrapped around his own and someone pressed up against him without his knowledge beforehand. He suppressed a laugh; she was something else. "It's time to go," he said flatly as he turned away from the effigy.

"I know," a voice replied sweetly.

"Rarity... why am I here, again?" Twilight asked nervously as the pair trotted down a high street at a leisurely pace. "I mean I understand why I'm here but I—"

"There's no need to get tongue tied, dear," Rarity interjected as the two of them stopped to browse a flower stall. There was quite an impressive selection. "I keep telling you to get outside more often, a Princess needs the love of her ponies!" she chirped as she placed a flower in Twilight's hair. "Ponies don't love a shut in."

"Well I suppose that's true," Twilight said while blushing slightly. "I'm not complaining I'm just..."

"Complaining?" Rarity offered as they began to trot once more. Both shared a laugh and Twilight waved her off.

"No, I'm just still adjusting to things is all. Becoming a Princess was a life changing experience in many ways! For both me and my friends." Twilight beamed bashfully and rubbed the back of her neck. She wasn't wearing her element at the moment, but Rarity had begun making a formal wardrobe for her - not too formal mind you.

Both of them smiled a little bit and Twilight was about to speak up but Rarity spoke first. "It's... a real shame Spike wasn't there to see you become a Princess." The two of them shared a look quickly. "Speaking of Spike, it was his birthday last week, right?"

"Yeah, he would be—"

"Oof."

"Oh my I'm terribly sorry!" Twilight back-pedalled slightly and offered her hoof to the stallion she'd just knocked over, who took it with a smile. "Are you alright?"

"I wasn't looking where I was going!" he laughed quickly, picking up his parcel and placing it back on his back. "Don't worry about it, Princess." With a nod to Rarity, he started off across the road and down one of Canterlot's many service roads.

"What were you saying, darling?" Rarity asked as the stallion disappeared from sight. "I didn't hear you finish."

"...you know I don't remember," Twilight said sheepishly as she looked at her hooves. "Can't have been to important, though." Taking a small step to check she was alright, Twilight started trotting again with Rarity falling in behind.

Rarity walked forward a few more paces before she suddenly turned to Twilight with stars in her eyes. "Speaking of important things, I heard an absolutely amazing story the other day! One of my regulars told me that a magicsmith in Canterlot can cut inviolable deepstones!"

"Impossible," Twilight said in a flat tone as she continued trotting at a slightly faster place. "Starswirl the Bearded was the only pony to ever attempt such a feat and succeed." Her voice betrayed slight hints of excitement. "Celestia would have informed me of such a pony."

"Well... why don't we go see for ourselves?" Rarity said with glee as she started walking in a different direction. "We're shopping right? I think a deepstone necklace would go wonderfully with my new design!" Twilight groaned but maintained a smile as she followed.

"What was the unicorn called, do you remember?" The purple Princess asked out of curiosity. "I might know them."

"I only know the name of the shop. It was called Crystal Rapier, if memory serves."

Deep foreboding filled Spike from toe to top as he could feel his body lay weighty and dead beneath the covers. Was it a veil? Had he finally been deemed inappropriate to the new world and thrown into the abyss? Slick sweat ran down his scales like drops of rain. Air was stuffy and tight as he gasped for breath while his eyes refused to move.

Darkness enveloped the entire room and surrounded him; suffocating him. It was pushing down on him almost as if it had gained a weight of its own. To have weight was to be alive, was the air alive? It did not hum with activity or move with grace, it sat atop him while he struggled to move. Fever filled his mind and made his thoughts sluggish and slow, the memories and ideas were like flowing water running through his palms.

A council loomed above his coffin with an unmistakable presence. Alien and unwanted contact was forced upon him as his blood ran cold and his eyes went limp. Silently screaming and unable to move he was forced to watch the hands push themselves inside his skull. Metaphysical in nature each began to tear apart his being. It was horrifying because he could do nothing for himself in the company of gods.

Rarity and Twilight had spent the last two hours trying to find the shop named Crystal Rapier. Their search had taken them down dark alleyways, into a ballroom, through a post office and into the Royal Palace. It had involved far too much bribery and a fair share of sweet talking, on both Rarity's and Twilight's side. Now however they stood before the store in question.

It was somewhat un-ordinary yet at the same time mundane and plain. Beige brick stacked up and made the walls whilst a red tiled roof sat atop the store. It was squashed between two other stores that looked exactly the same because of its location in the poorer part of Canterlot.

Muddy glass was offset in one half of the building with a few items of interest behind it. They were hard to make out from this distance but were probably quite expensive. The door and window-frames were painted a rich maroon and a small gold trimming was beneath the roof.

"Welcome," called a gruff old voice from some unseen location. The girls had only just entered the store as the voice called out to them and before long a stout stallion came to the counter.

"We'd like to know ab—"

"We're just here to browse," Rarity interjected with a nervous laugh and a hoof over Twilight's muzzle. "I'm a dressmaker and my friend here is a sorceress; any recommendations?"

"Ah well," the old stallion started as he rubbed his chin. "I believe you may be looking for decorative stones? They're in the front of the store, and your friend there might be wanting some runes; which are down back." He nodded to himself twice.

"Thank you ever so much for your help." Rarity nudged Twilight, who gave a weak smile before trotting off towards the magical items. Rarity walked a little to her left over the creaking floorboards and gazed into the small display case before her.

"Hmmmm..." she mused to herself as her eyes scanned the jewel before her. There was no doubting the quality of its cut or the precise cleaning. A rather well done job much like her own. However the small gemstone lacked a certain flare she wanted, so it wasn't a purchase she would be willing to make.

The case above held a more impressive gemstone with an orange tint. It was glowing very faintly in the mid-afternoon sunlight that streamed through the window. Placed upon a velvet cushion, Rarity could respect the quality of the cut and the design it had been shaped with. Sadly she was looking for cooler gems and orange was too warm a colour.

Meanwhile Twilight was looking at a large and impressive collection of runes and magical compendiums that accompanied them. All of the runes and their books were kept under heavy lock and key within a metal display case. It didn't look too secure but was probably reinforced with some kind of binding spell.

Leather bound tomes that probably had a musk of the past were certainly enticing to Twilight, however the contents within probably weren’t to her taste. Although not technically illegal the practice of binding spirits and the dead was seen as immoral, so compendiums such as Arts of Indissoluble Nature and Ars Spirits didn't appeal to her.

Journeys Into Unknown seemed like a very heretical text, and she was tempted to bring it up with the storekeeper. Gateway magic definitely was illegal in all forms. It was astounding that such a text and accompanying rune had remained in public display!

"Excuse me?" Rarity asked from across the store. "I would like to examine this gemstone closer. Will you get it out for me, please?"

"Most certainly," the storekeeper replied as he levitated a set of keys from his pocket. Walking over to Rarity he pointed to a display case and asked, "This one?"

A curt nod was given in response and he opened the holder with a sliding of tumblers. Sparks flew off the surface of the gem as it was levitated to a surface, at which point the stallion stepped sideways to allow Rarity a closer look. "It's obviously a fine quality..." she said slowly as her eyes scanned the gem. "Could I get it in a smaller cut, though?"

"Probably," said the worn man. "You'd need to ask my boy in the back though, he cuts the stones."

"Oh that would be wonderful!" Rarity beamed as the store-owner pointed toward the door to the back. "I suppose he's a rather fine magician, then?"

"Mighty fine," came the response from the owner. "Word to the wise; don't scream."

"Pardon...?"

Spike's hands twirled the long tube in his hands slowly whilst he breathed down the length of the metal tube into the gather. Glass was lumped at the end of the metal pipe in an angry red blob. Slowly swelling in size and becoming thinner around the edges the gather slowly formed into a little rounded vase.

He started swinging his hands in a circular motion in an attempt to increase the width of the gather, but his concentration slipped and he dropped the blowpipe. A small curse escaped his dry lips as he looked at the molten glass and sighed. Picking up the pipe with his left arm he turned it vertical and placed it in some water.

After he'd placed the pipe in some water Spike moved over to where the glass was sitting and scraped it up using his hand. Despite how unbearably hot it was his scales remained fine and he promptly threw the blob into a pit nearby. Slapping his hands together to get rid of the excess, he took the blowpipe back and decided to start again.

Bringing the blowpipe end to his lips Spike let loose a stream of green fire for a few moments. Once he felt the tip was sufficiently heated he took himself to the furnace and slid the blowpipe into its maw. Glass was contained in something like crucible within and he started to collect it on the end of his pipe. Just then he heard the door to his workshop open.

"Oi, Spike, you have some visitors... a customer wants a custom cut jewel," came a rough voice from behind him.  

"Tell them to come back in a bit because I'm busy, old man." Spike didn't bother looking over towards the door as he took the blowpipe from the furnace and grasped it in his fingers.

"Oh my..." Rarity said as she peered through the door and beheld the dragon. "Spike is that really...?"

"Yeah, it's me," he said taciturnly as he brought the blowpipe to his mouth. "They can stay for a bit, then you get them to buy something and throw them out."

"Are they friends of yours or something?" the old stallion questioned as he walked into the workshop to examine the failed glass vase. "You don't let many folks in here, you know."

"You could say that..." Spike turned to the elderly salesman and gave a morbid expression. "I told you about them I think, my foster sister and one of her friends." He slowly started blowing into the glass gather at the end of the pipe.

By now Rarity and Twilight had entered the workshop as well and were staring wide-eyed at Spike, who wasn't even interested in looking their way while he worked. They weren't really thinking in the now as both looked at him blowing the glass. Something was off about him and he looked so... mature. Even though they couldn't see his face, hidden by a hood and facing away from them, both Twilight and Rarity could feel a pair of eyes in the back of his head.

Before he left Spike was barely as tall as Twilight but now he towered over her. His slender bipedal figure gave off a feeling of power and presence as he worked his craft. Once mild lilac scales were now a deep purple and much more rigid. Fingers that had been stubby and claws that were originally blunt were now much longer and sinister; looking sharper than a blade. Green spikes were hidden by a worn leather jacket that managed to keep his form. A long strong tail was wrapped around his leg.

"Spike it's beyond wonderful to see you!" Twilight cried out as she slowly made her way over to her foster brother. "Where have you been? What's happened to you?"

"Darling you don't know how great it is to see you!" Rarity said in delight with a quiver in her voice. "It's been so long, we've missed you!" She started to walk towards Spike but stopped herself when his hands stilled. "Where were you? Why did you leave?"

Spike took the pipe from his mouth and sighed as he placed it in the water trough by his side. He didn't look directly at Rarity but he did look over his shoulder at Twilight. His glare made Twilight subconsciously shiver - those weren't the eyes of the Spike she knew. "Afternoon Twilight," he said simply.

"As for why I left..." Spike stood up as he spoke and flexed one of his claws. "...it's not really any of your business, Rarity." He didn't even look at her as he shrugged off her concern. It seemed like he was looking somewhere else entirely; somewhere far away from this place.

"Spike we haven't seen one another in years! We need to get together and talk things out, because we're friends." Her voice remained level but she bit her lip before she continued. "Everybody was upset when you left and now that you're back we should talk about it." Spike suddenly clenched his fist but otherwise remained apathetic.

Twilight was about to speak up but Spike cut her off. "Don't talk down to me like I'm a child, Rarity. I'm more experienced and much wiser than you. My business is just that and I'm not going to share." He gave a shallow laugh and turned to look at her. "Friends? Who says we're friends? I haven't seen you in years let alone thought about you."

What upset Rarity most wasn't his words but rather the way he was looking at her. It may have been bearable if he resented her, tolerable if he loathed her. No light entered or escaped his eyes as he looked at her; it was disinterest. Jade pebbles stared at her unchanging almost as if they were staring through her.

"Spike!" Twilight said in shock as she looked up at him in disbelief. "How could you say such a thing? You used to be so close to Rarity!" Her eyes kept flicking between the two of them as she struggled to see the full picture.

"You're right Twilight; used to be."

"Ahh... maybe I should be going?" Spike turned to look at his employer who was noticeably uncomfortable. "I feel a smidgen out of place amongst this ruckus."

"Yeah, sure. Why don't you check the storeroom again. You were taking inventory earlier, right?" Spike nodded toward the exit and received a nod in return as his boss left the room.

"Darling it's imperative that we talk about this," Rarity insisted as she put her hoof down. "You're obviously upset about something and as your friends, me and Twilight need to help cheer you up." Twilight nodded in agreement as Rarity finished.

"You..." Spike inhaled deeply as his patience began to wear thin and walked over to his workbench. Picking up a small glass figurine he walked back and held it out in front of Rarity. "What do you think of this?" he asked with a tone of annoyance.

Rarity picked the figure up in her telekinetic grasp and brought it closer for examination. It was a dainty glass model depicting some woman who was bipedal in nature, wrapped in alluring cloth in a pose of artful nature. Although the sculpting looked as if it was made from glass, Rarity thought it might have actually been some kind gemstone. She promptly placed it back in Spike's open palm.

"It's beautiful," she said honestly as he walked over and placed the figurine back on his workbench. "Did you make this yourself?"

"He must have," Twilight commented as she eyed the figure now resting on the bench. "No normal fire can soften such a dense material like a rune." Her cheeks flushed slightly as Rarity stared at her with a puzzled expression.

"Twilight is correct; I sculpted a rune into a figurine for decorative purposes. It's easier to hide them if they're made like decorations." He put a hand in his pocket and looked down at Rarity with an expectant look. "However that's not the point of why I showed it to you. What does that make you think of?"

The pearl white mare stared up at the jaded dragon for a few moments before managing, "...that you've grown?"

"Exactly.” Clicking his claws together as she finished her sentence, Spike gave her a hard look. "I grew up independent from your discriminative society. I'm not a lapdog anymore... I'm an adult."

Twilight smiled at Spike as he finished speaking. "You may have grown up without us there for you, but Ponyville has been and always will be your home, Spike." Rarity noticed how Twilight tactfully avoided his other comment; as did Spike.

Green flames leaped from Spike's grimacing mouth and flowed up across his face. He opened his mouth slowly as his stare turned cold. "Don't fuck with me, Twilight," he spat. "Ponyville will always be my home? I have my own home, now. I don't need Ponyville."

In the blink of an eye Spike had shoved Twilight with some form of whiplash motion, similar to a flicker jab. One of his fingers was pointed at her with the claw tip sitting on her brow. "You used me. I choked up damn mail for you and stacked your fluffy misguiding books all my life!" He pointed at himself and stood back straight. "I'm free now! Why would I go back to a life of solitude when I have so much now?"

"I... I never..." Twilight back peddled slightly and failed to look Spike in the eye. "You're my foster brother and I just..." she couldn't find the words to finish her sentence.

"You're right, I am your foster brother." Spike crossed his arms and looked over at the door. "That's what makes your actions disturbing, Twilight."

"You," he said sharply as he pointed at Rarity. "You used me in worse ways by feigning ignorance for my feelings. I'm not mad that you didn't return my feelings, they were those of a childhood crush, I'm pissed off that you used me as a slave." He threw his arms up. "I was literally your pincushion!"

Rarity walked closer to Spike and put her hoof on his side, only to have it removed by his hands. "Spike, darling, this is exactly why we need to talk! I wish we'd met on better terms, but you have something against us, and we need to work together to sort it out and get you back home."

"No!" he said angrily as he pushed her back. "I'm telling you, Ponyville is not my home. Dammit you two just listen to me for a single second!" Very slowly the purple dragon pulled his hood down to expose his face fully. Rarity managed to keep her composure but Twilight was evidently shocked.

"What...?" Rarity began.

Garish black lines were engraved in the back of his scalp and probably down his neck as well; some more were probably hidden by his shaggy hair. Each was abhorrent in nature with an understandably dark intentions. Spike rolled one of the sleeves of his jacket up and exposed yet more of these lines. "This was my rite of passage. It marks me as a member of my race in blood and name."

"That doesn't matter!" Rarity said with a tone of annoyance. "You're our friend no matter what and we need to help you adjust. You've obviously been through some horrible things!"

"Rarity you don't—" Spike started before Twilight suddenly whispered something bizarre.

"Rarity, you don't understand how severe those are," Twilight said in shock as she looked at her old friend. Her eyes were shaking in their sockets as if the scene before her had knocked her about. "Markings like those bring only misery and madness; Spike can't come back to Ponyville. He shouldn't even be in Equestria."

"But everyone misses you!" Rarity suddenly cried out. "When you walked out on us all I—"

Rarity was stopped midway as Spike placed a hand over her muzzle. His hands felt so awfully alien to her as he forced her mouth shut with a grimace. "When I walked out on you all you what, Rarity? Were you sad or upset? Your slave walked off one day so you had to work harder?"

"Spike how dare you!" Twilight said emotionally as she looked away from Spike. "You go off and break the law, mutilate yourself and talk to my friends like that? I don't care who you were, but that's not okay!"

"I didn't break the laws of my people, only those of yours," he stated flatly. "I really do care for you Twilight, but I have my own life now. I've got my own things going on the way I want them to, and I've travelled my own path!" Then he turned to Rarity and began walking out of the room, without looking back.

"Don't get involved with me after today. I left for a reason."

Keys were violently pulled from a leather jacket and thrust into a battered door lock. Defiant sticky tumblers refused to budge; but was eventually broken entirely. Metal flew aside as a fist punched a hole through the old lock and handle, letting the door open on its own. Spike stepped in through the doorway and closed the door behind him.

Leaning up against the bulky door he let a stream of fire out onto his claw. After a few seconds his claws were glowing a vibrant hue and he quickly welded the door shut. Afterwards he slumped down on the floor and put his head in his hands. Clenching his fists into balls as he grit his teeth with a growl the young dragon punched the floor with a sigh. His arms went lax and his breath slowed as he stood and staggered, before walking farther into his flat.

Shrugging off his leather jacket and casting it aside as he went, Spike entered his living room and beheld it in the light of dusk. Unkempt piles of books and magazines were on the coffee table whilst the two couches were littered with clothes. As he walked past the door to the kitchen he noticed it was surprisingly clean.

Spike spotted several drinking glasses lined up besides the sink as he entered the kitchen. Picking one up and sniffing it briefly he placed it under the tap and ran a glass of water, quickly throwing his head back and pouring the water down his throat. The kitchen was covered in black stains from his failed cooking. Smooth polished wood passed underfoot as he padded toward his bedroom.

Opening the door without bothering to shut it Spike walked over to the right side of his bed and fell face first into the pillows. A long drawn out groan escaped from his lips as he felt the tension in his body wash away; soaked up by his mattress. As quickly as he felt his body embraced by his covers an arm wrapped around him from behind and someone was pressed up against him.

"I keep telling you that we're in separate rooms for a reason," he said simply while burying his face father into the pillows.

"Now that's no fun," came a cooing reply as the invader pressed up against him. "Are you trying to tell me you don't like me, Spike?" He abstained from commenting and received a light chuckle for his silence.

"Get off of me," the tired smith moaned as he turned on his side and weekly tried to push his companion off. They merely stopped hugging him.

Instead the embracing bed intruder grasped his outstretched hand and wrapped their fingers between his; there was no resistance. "Why don't you start by telling me what happened?" said a feminine voice in a sweet tone. Spike was turned against his will to be facing upwards.

Staring up into a pair of pure forest orbs Spike felt his resistance slowly crumble around him. "I ran into some ponies I knew from a while back; nothing too major." Noticing the gentle tan fingers that were binding his Spike closed his eyes and let out a shallow breath.

Lips. Seemingly soft and inviting but the moment he closes his eyes they were pressed up against his own. Although overridden by mild surprise Spike didn't open his eyes, he savoured the flavour rosemary and liquor that came and went in a flash. Opening his eyes he started up at the one who'd just kissed him with a mixture of a dumbstruck smile and a soft glare.

"It didn't sound like nothing major, you know." The woman ran a finger up his chest slowly as she spoke. "It kind of sounded like you ripped the door open. You didn't rip the door open, did you? We need a door..." She placed her finger on his lips and whispered, "Ponies might hear us, you know."

"Oi stop screwing with me," Spike said with a laugh as he shoved the girl off of him and onto the bed. "Somebody might hear us? You spent a few hundred years in silence, can't you do it some more?" He smiled slightly but rubbed his forehead and lay down, staring up at the ceiling in thought.

"So who did you meet? Anybody important?" Her tangerine and tangelo hair wrapped around her neck as she pressed up against Spike, still holding his hand.

"I met Rarity and my foster sister, Twilight," he said grimly. "Things started out fine I suppose but they wouldn't listen to me and that frustrated me to no end. Rarity seems set to try indoctrinate me back into Ponyville, and Twilight... I don't know what she thinks."

A chuckle rang out from besides Spike. "Rarity always sounded like a mule to me," his companion said sourly. "She used you far too much as a child and now she's trying to reel you in?" Her eyes closed in thought. "Pretty disgusting."

"It just dawned on me," Spike mused as he flexed his hand. "You're still in my bed. You could kill me you know that, right? Calling you wild is an understatement."

"I'm sure you'll allow me to indulge for one night." An arm wrapped up and around his face, sliding back down and onto his chest. "You seem like you need the company after all, so why not break the last few rules that keep you in place?"

"I can't handle you," he said bluntly.

"Sure you can, you're a—"

Spike placed a hand over her mouth, only to have his fingers licked and a grimace creep over his face. Sighing as his eyes drooped shut in the dusk light he felt his companion cuddle up besides him. "We'll work it out together; that's what we've done ever since the day we met, right?"

"Yeah," he spoke sincerely. "We're a master and spirit, Amaranth." Next Chapter: Obsidian Teeth Estimated time remaining: 1 Hour, 23 Minutes