“So…” wondered Rarity. “What goes on in the mind of a dragon?”

            Spike rolled his eyes and kept silent. The two had been walking through the Hallow Woods for the better part of the afternoon and night was slowly falling upon them. He looked up towards the eastern skies as they glowed a brilliant amber and crimson, nestling behind the Great Eastern Seas of Equestria that led to the Griffon Homelands of Cliffe, and to a world less torn by war and misery.

            “She doesn’t raise it anymore,” Rarity sighed.

            “Hmm?” Spike hummed.

            “I noticed you were looking at the sunset,” she said, walking next to the purple dragon and stared at the setting sun. “I don’t know if you knew this, but in the olden times, before the war, Princess Celestia would raise and set the sun every day. Her sister, Princess Luna, would do the same  with the moon every night. It’s really quite beautiful when you think about it, the sunset that is.”

            “All I can think about is why she didn’t throw herself into the sun.”

            “Spike! That’s terrible!” Childed the mare. “What would possess you to think of something so horrid?”

            “Does it really matter anymore?” Questioned the dragon. “It’s not like she raises it anymore. Now it just does it by itself. Which brings me to another interesting question…”

            “What in the heavens could that be?”

            “What the hell was the point?” Spike asked, smirking a little. “If the sun and moon never needed Celestia and Luna to raise them, then what were the princesses doing? Personally, I think all you ponies got played for chumps.”

            “If you knew anything about pony culture, you would know that unicorns were responsible for raising the sun and the moon!” Rarity huffed.

            “Oh, I know a lot more than you would think,” snickered Spike. “But enough about that, we need to keep moving, and I’d rather not walk around the forest at night.”

            “Walk?” wondered Rarity. “Surely we intend on setting up some sort of camp for the night, correct?”

            “Nope.”

            “No? Why not?”

            “Because we can get eight hours of walking done at night,” he said. “Which means we get eight hours closer to Vanhoover, and eight more hours that I don’t have to spend with you!” He argued.

            “I…” the pony tried to say. “I don’t know what to say…”

            “Finally,” Spike muttered. “Just stay quiet and keep close, it’ll get dark soon.”

            “Okay,” nodded Rarity, straying closer to the dragon’s side. “Aren’t you afraid?”

            “Why would I be? I’m a dragon, the biggest and scariest thing in Equestria.”

            “You’re not that big,” giggled Rarity, “And you’re certainly not scary, you just have an attitude problem.”

            “Well I’m usually all sunshine, tulips, and butterfly farts,” droned Spike. “But this collar is suffocating all my good manners… Seriously this thing is getting smaller!”

            “It is not!” Frowned the mare. “It auto-adjusts to keep a snug fit around your neck, but it shouldn’t be shrinking.”

            “Then you’re making it shrink!”

            “Why would I try and kill you Spike? The very idea is just… unladylike!”

            “So is slavery, but you seem to be pretty okay with that!” yelled Spike.

BZZZZZZZTTT!

            “Ack! That’s not ladylike either!”

            “Oh, do be quiet, it hurts me to shock you too,” mumbled Rarity.

            “Yeah, I highly doubt that.”

            “Such a dragon…” muttered Rarity. “You’re simply exhausting sometimes.”

            “You’re no picnic either princess,” retorted Spike, looking back as the sun slowly fell beneath the sea and the first stars started to appear. What used to be Luna’s night was upon them, the new moon rising in the west. “Now, would you kindly refrain from shocking, talking, and any other annoyances you can think of for the duration of the night?”

            “Of course,” nodded Rarity. “Can I ask why?”

            “No, that would require talking,” droned Spike.

            “That’s not fair!”

            “Keep your voice down!” He hushed. “Do you know what’s in this forest?”

            “I thought you said you’re the big scary dragon?”

            “Yeah, and you’re a small annoying unicorn that a pack of Timberwolves or a manticore would find delicious,” said Spike. “And I’d rather not die because you got devoured by some nocturnal carnivore.”

            “Okay…” Rarity replied, as they quietly walked into the night.

*****

           “Spike…” yawned Rarity. “I can barely keep my eyes open, are you sure that we can’t stop?”

            “Breaking the no-talking rule,” muttered Spike. “And no, we can’t stop.  Just tough it out. You don’t see me complaining.”

            “I’m not a dragon, Spike,” groaned the tired mare as she took another yawn. “I can’t go days without food, or walk all day and night. I need to eat and sleep on a regular basis.”

            “Tough luck. We’re not stopping.”

            “But I’m tired…”

            “I said tough luck,” growled the dragon. “We’re not stopping.”

            “Spike, dear,” said Rarity, quickly running up in front of Spike, stopping him. “Consider this scenario. If I am to get some sleep I will be refreshed, which means that I got my beauty sleep and can continue to look divine in case we need to deal with some male libidos.”

            “Or I could light them on fire,” said Spike. “That doesn’t require beauty sleep.”

            “Well… then what about this?  If I get some sleep, then I will be in a good mood and less likely to shock a certain purple dragon.”

            “I’m getting used to it,” smiled Spike.

            “Are you getting used to my talking?” Said the mare, frowning at the stubborn drake. “Because if I don’t get my beauty sleep… I tend to get very, very, VERY, whiny,” she started to smile. “Do you remember earlier when I had my little fit? That would be nothing to the storm I could bring onto you. I would make your ears blister and your eyes bleed as you beg for death—“

            “Okay this is getting kind of dark...“

            “Your soul would bend and wither from my caws as I fester in your brain, picking apart every bit of sanity you would still have, driving you to the brink of no return as you pray to whatever God you pay favour to for something as sweet as death!”

            The dragon just stood there and stared at the enraged little unicorn, her nostrils flaring and her eyes bloodshot as she looked right back at him with the force of a thousand spears.

            “What the hell was that about?!”

            The unicorn dropped to the ground in tears. “Pleeeeaaaase, Spike!” She begged. “I get weird when I’m tired! I just want to go to bed!”

            “Umm…” the dragon paused. “Okay?”

            “Really?” She asked, looking up as she wiped away some tears.

            “Sure, if it’ll shut you up,” he said. “I could use some quiet anyways.”

            “Wonderful, let me get out my tent,” she replied, slowly getting back up.

            “You have a tent?” Spike questioned.

            Rarity nodded. “Of course, I keep a small one in my purse,” she said, opening up her purse portal and levitating a small yellow box out of it. “Now where to set it up…”

            “Huh… I didn’t take you for the camping type.”

            “Ugh, I despise camping,” muttered Rarity. “All that… nature. It just isn’t natural.”

            “Whatever you say, princess,” the dragon said under his breath. “Anyways, let’s set this tent up and get you settled in—“

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT!

            Spike was thrown back by the sudden burst that came out of Rarity’s box. From the small yellow container came a flurry of colours as a beaconing castle began to take form, the shadow looming over the pony and the dragon. When the hissing finally stopped the box had disappeared and in its place was a bright white castle.

            “What the hell?!” gasped Spike. “That’s not a tent! That’s a freaking palace in a box!”

            “What? This little thing?” Asked the mare, walking into her castle tent. “This is the smaller version. I wanted to get the deluxe model but they only had it in green,” she shuttered. “Such a hideous colour…”

            Spike growled a little.

            “Not that it doesn’t look good on you!” Rarity quickly sputtered. “It’s just not my flair.”

            “Hey, I don’t care,” said Spike. “You have your stupid tent up, now go to sleep.”

            “Well…” began the mare, smiling nervously as she pulled out a vase from her portal purse. “I can’t.”

            “What do you mean?” Spike asked. “You said you were tired, so what’s the problem?”

            “I need flowers in order to sleep,” she said sheepishly, levitating the purple vase to the dragon. “And since the forest is too dangerous for me, could I trouble you to pick some flowers up for me?”

            The dragon stared at her with a deadpanned expression. “You can’t be serious.”

            “Please Spike?” she moaned, giving the dragon her best duck-face and puppy dog eyes. “I only need a few and you can even pick what kind of flowers they are.”

            He rolled his eyes as he snatched the vase. “Get in your tent and stay put. I’ll be back in a minute.”

            The mare nodded. “Thank you, Spike,” she said as she walked into her tent. “Don’t be too long and stay safe.”

“Yeah, yeah…” he muttered, lumbering into the forest. “Stupid flowers for the stupid pony… I hate my life right now.” He walked around the woods, passing beyond the sight of the small castle, which was well hidden in the trees. Rarity would be safe enough for a while.

            Now he just needed to find some flowers.

            “Flowers… flowers…” he said to himself. “What will shut Miss Prissy Pants up?” He looked at a small batch of white wildflowers growing in a small clump. “Too pretty,” he thought. “She’ll probably bitch me out about them not being ‘couth’ enough or something stupid.” He continued to search the ground for more plots of flowers, finally stumbling across a garden of tulips. “I guess these will do…”

            He carefully picked a few of the delicate flowers and placed them in the vase, turning around and heading back to the camp. As he approached the camp, he was greeted by the white mare, who was now wearing a frilly pink housecoat.

            “Spike, those flowers look lovely, darling!” She smiled, taking the flower pot from him. “I simply adore tulips, thank you, Spike.”

            “Whatever, you have your flowers. Now go to sleep,” the dragon grunted.

            “Oh…” gulped the mare.

            Spike sighed. “What do you want now?”

             “Well… it’s a bit too cold, and I’m awfully parched,” she said. “Could we make a fire?”

            “Sure,” muttered Spike. “Why the hell not? It’s not like we were exposed enough with Castle Ass-a-lot over there.”

            “I’m cold though,” complained Rarity.

            “You have fur,” he said, breaking down a tree branch. “But whatever, I’ll light a fire.”

            “Thank you.”

            “Bite me,” Spike grumbled, spitting a few green flames on the large tree branch. “Here.”

            “Such an odd colour of fire,” Rarity remarked.

            “What do you mean?” Asked Spike, throwing more broken branches on the flames.

            “Your fire breath,” she said. “It’s green. Has it always been that colour?”

            “Yep.”

            “How interesting,” the pony smiled. “I guess it just makes you special.”

            “Sure…”

            “So tell me a bit about yourself,” said Rarity. “We’ve been traveling together all day and we don’t know anything about each other.”

            “I don’t care,” answered Spike. “Do you want me to get you your water?”

            “Later dear,” she said. “All I’m saying is maybe we could get to know each other a bit better. I’d like to know more about my protector.”

            “Rather not.”

            “Why not?” She asked. “Aren’t you curious to learn more about each other?”

            “Not at all.”

            “C’mon Spike, we can make a game of it!” Rarity grinned. “We’ll take turns asking each other questions. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

            “What about sleep?” Spike scowled. “I thought you were going to go to sleep.”

            “I’m too excited to sleep now,” she clapped her forehooves together. “Play the game for a bit, then I’ll go to sleep.”

            “Ugh…” moaned the dragon, taking a seat across the fire from Rarity. “Fine, you can go first.”

            “Great,” smiled the mare. “So, first question. Where were you born?”

            “Canterlot.”

            “Really?” asked Rarity. “But that’s the capital of the ponies. Are you lying to me?”

            “Nope,” Spike said, shaking his head. “My turn… what were you doing in Canterlot, you know it’s a warzone right? And you aren’t exactly a warrior.”

            “Oh…” blushed Rarity, “Well I’ve actually been meaning to tell you about that… I wasn’t captured in Canterlot.”

            “What, so you lied to me?” asked Spike. “Why?”

            “I didn’t know if I could trust you,” she confessed. “I thought you could have been working for the Lunar Republic.”

            The dragon stared at her blankly. “Do I look like I work for those Lunar ass-hats?”

            “I know that now,” she smiled. “But anyways, I was captured a little ways past the border. And that was two questions mister!”

            “So?”

            “That means I get two in a row.”

            “Fine, whatever,” Spike mumbled. “Ask away.”

            “Okay… Hmm, do you have any family?”

            “No.”

            “What about a mother and a father? Any siblings?”

            “I said no!” He barked. “So drop it.”

            “I’m sorry…” the mare apologized. “I didn’t know that. It was stupid of me to ask you that.”

            “Yes it was,” growled Spike. “Now that was two. My turn again. Same question I guess.”

            “About my family?”

            “Sure.”

            “Oh, well my mother and father live in Tall Tale with my little sister Sweetie Belle, that’s the sister city to Vanhoover. The Princess lives there now, ever since Canterlot was turned into a warzone. Oh, and I have the most wonderful friends! There’s Fluttershy, sweetest little thing, awfully timid though. Then there’s Rainbow Dash, a bit rash but always reliable, and of course we can’t forget Pinkie Pie or—“

            “I get it, you have a big happy family and tons of friends,” mumbled Spike. “Whoop-de-freaking-doo.”

“Oh… sorry,” apologized Rarity, bowing her head a little. She had already forgotten that Spike had no family. She wanted to know what happened but it felt wrong to pry on such a matter. “Well, I know you have friends. Those dragons that you broke into the camp to rescue. How did you meet them, back in Canterlot?”

            “No.”

            “Well, where did you meet them?”

            “Badlands.”

            “Are all your answers going to be one-worded?”

            “That’s too many questions this turn,” smiled Spike.

            Rarity let a little giggle slip out from the dragon’s comment. “True, I guess it’s your turn.”

            “All right, so…” pondered Spike, trying to think of another question. “What were you doing on the east side of Equestria? You said you were a Celestialite, and you don’t look like a soldier.”

            “Oh that…” gulped Rarity. “I was… on vacation.”

            “Vacation?” Spike wondered. “You don’t see how idiotic that is?”

            “Well you know me… I’m the adventurous type,” she said, laughing nervously.

            “That has to be the worse lie I’ve ever heard,” said Spike. “And I usually hang around with a moron.”

            “That obvious huh?” She sighed. “I guess I owe you the truth, Spike.”

            She stared up at the dragon, the green fire flickering in the reflection of her blue eyes, giving off a serious gaze as her horn started to glow, the magical portal of her purse opening up beside her.

            “There is a reason that I came to the Lunar Republic. As you know, I am from the Celestial Society, and from the new capital, but what I didn’t tell you is that I am also one of Princess Celestia’s most faithful and trusted subjects, and she had entrusted me to go on a mission across the border.”

            “I think I believe the vacation story more than this one.”

            “It’s rude to interrupt a lady when she’s talking,” frowned Rarity as she continued. “Anyways, she hoof-picked me and my friends to find and retrieve this…”

            She reached into her magical purse, searching the contents of it until she found what she was looking for. What she pulled out was beyond description. A bright light illuminated the darkness, causing Spike to shield his eyes from whatever Rarity took out of her purse portal. When the light seemed to fade, Spike finally got a better look at the thing that Rarity was holding.

            It was a large purple crystal, glimmering with a strong and powerful aura of violet energy.

            “What the hell is that?”

            “This Spike… is one of six Elements of Harmony,” said Rarity. “They were scattered across Equestria a millennia ago and thought to be lost. But a few years ago, we found an old legend telling us their whereabouts and power.”

            “So, is this some sort of weapon?” asked Spike. “It doesn’t look that powerful.”

            “Well, by itself, it’s nothing more than a pretty diamond,” said the mare. “But when all six are used together, it’s the single most powerful artifact known to pony-kind. It’s why Celestia wanted me and my friends to find them. With the power of all six Elements we can finally end this terrible war once and for all.”

            “So that’s why you were on Luna’s side of the world,” muttered the dragon. “What, the tyrant couldn’t do her own dirty work?”

            “Princess Celestia is not a tyrant!” Huffed Rarity. “She’s the true ruler of Equestria and only wants her and her sister to be together again.”

            “That’s what they told you, I’m guessing?”

            “It’s the truth Spike, you’ll see,” she said. “She trusted me to get the Element of Generosity and I plan on getting back home and the princess will end this all and reunite Equestria.”

            “And what about Luna?” Spike asked. “I’m assuming that she knows about the Elements of Harmony, what makes you think she won’t get your friends? Who knows, maybe she already has the other five elements.”

            “Don’t say things like that!” frowned Rarity. “I know my friends are safe!”

            “You can’t know that.”

            “Yes I can!” She stated. “Because my Element was the only one in the Lunar Republic. Loyalty was in the Frozen North, Kindness in the Smokey Mountains, Laughter was located in Ghastly Gorge, Honesty in the sands of the San Palomino Desert, and Magic was in the Everfree Forest.”

            “So?”

            “All those locations are on the Celestial side of the country,” Rarity said. “My Element was located in the Foal Mountains just east of Canterlot… That’s where I got caught.”

            “Wonderful…” sighed Spike. “Way to up the ante, now I might feel bad if something happens to you.”

            “Really?” asked Rarity, smiling just a little.

            “No. Not really,” deadpanned the dragon. “I honestly could care less about why you’re here, or the fact that you think the world depends on your safety because I don’t give a rat’s ass about the fate of this country.”

            “Oh… Is it because you’re a dragon?”

            “It’s because ponies are scum. Especially unicorns,” muttered Spike. “And here I am, under the will and command of a goddess-damned pony. I honestly should have let you to rot in that cage.”

            “That’s—“ Rarity began to say, cutting herself short as she calmed down a little. She looked quizzically at Spike. He was mean, ill-tempered, and a brute, claiming to have a hatred of ponies and everything else. His body was lightly stained with dirt, bits of the brown minerals stuck in between some of his scales. Spike seemed to walk the fine line between dashing hero and hideous monster. Was he a hero claiming to be a monster, or a monster that had a rare moment of heroism? It definitely made her wonder.

            “Are we done this stupid game?” Spike asked, finally breaking the silence.

            “Yes… Just one more question,” said Rarity.

            “This should be good, what?” asked Spike, crossing his arms.

            “… Why did you save me?”

            There was an eerie and long silence, the playful grin dropping from the dragon’s face as they sat there. It was a question that was bugging him too. Why did he save her? It wasn’t something that he would normally do for anyone, especially a pony. Thinking back, all Spike could remember was the sound of her voice breaking through the fire of his self-made chaos. A sweet, pure, and innocent chime in the darkness that captivated him and for a brief moment he felt… what did he feel?

            Rarity tapped her hooves on the ground, waiting impatiently for his answer. “Well, Spike?”

            “Huh? Oh…” grumbled the drake, getting up from the ground. “I don’t know.”

            “You don’t know?”

            “Well, it’s not like it bucking matters,” he barked. “We played your stupid game, now go to sleep.”

            “Okay,” nodded Rarity, picking up her flowers and heading towards her castle tent. “Good night, Spike.”

The drake muttered something under his breath but she couldn’t hear him. ‘For the best,’ she thought, considering that it was probably something very rude. She moved passed the drapes of her door and into her room on the second floor of the tent. Placing the tulips in a vase of fresh water she fell onto her bed. It had just occurred to her how exhausted she was. She never exerted herself this much back in Vanhoover.

            But sleep still seemed to elude her. The tulips beside her bed smelled wonderful but that just brings up more questions. Why tulips? Knowing Spike and the way he thought about her, she half-expected a pile of weeds or some animal droppings as some cruel joke. Because that was the way he viewed it, a cruel joke and she was the prankster. She knew that what she did was bad. Infact, it was unforgivable. But she needed to get back home and this seemed like the only option.

            When Celestia told her about the elements and her plan, she was a little worried to go into Lunar territory. Even with an entire platoon to escort her pass the border and into the Foal Mountains, she never felt truly safe…

            Safe. Was she safe right now? Having Spike outside her tent, knowing that he was watching over her, protecting her from any sort of dangers made her feel safe. But the same could be said when she was with the Celestial army, having patrols around her at all times, willing to give their lives to keep her safe. The opposite could be said for Spike, keeping her alive was essential for his own. The more she thought about it, the more the guilt ate away at her insides.

            “Have I doomed you Spike?” She asked herself. “Would you have said yes if I had just asked you?”

            The answer was blatantly obvious. Spike would never do something like that. Maybe she should just accept the fact that he was who he was and just stay quiet for the rest of the journey. The sooner they got to Vanhoover the better.

            With one final yawn she pulled the covers over her body, letting sleep finally take her.

*****

           Soldiers of the Lunar Republic were sifting through the wreckage of the prison camp. The fire that took place last night left nothing more than a pile of burnt tents, cindered wood, and charred bodies of Lunar guards and prisoners alike.

            “One dragon… one bucking dragon…” muttered one of the guards as he was dragging a dead body out of the rubble.

            “Finding it hard to believe?” Asked the kirin next to him. “Dragons are a plague on this world and it sickens me to know we need them to prosper.”

            “I’ll agree with you there, buddy,” said the pony. “Once all those overgrown lizards are dead, this world will be a better place.”

            “As soon as Luna finds a way to make our females fertile, I’m positive she’ll finally give the orders to kill these vermin.”

            “Yeah…” mumbled the pony, gagging a little as he pulled out a dead griffon. “You ever get used to it?”

            “Used to what?” asked the kirin.

            “The smell of dead bodies… it’s disgusting.”

            “You do know I’ll probably have that griffon for lunch,” grinned the kirin.

            “Dude, that’s disgusting,” mumbled the pony.

            “Or maybe I’ll have that pony over there. I’m thinking something… extra crispy.”

            “Stop it.”

            “You know, I’m feeling a hankering for some deep fried ponies.”

            “Will you shut up, you freak!” Shouted the pony.

            There was a moment of silence as the kirin’s brow furrowed.

            “What did you just call me?” the kirin growled, leaning over the trembling pony. “Did you just call me a freak?!”

            “It-it just sort of slipped out!”

            “Why I autta…”

            “Is there a problem, gents?”

            Both of the ponies looked over to see a large dark stallion smiling at them. The imposing figure was dressed in a stylish violet jacket over a dark grey vest. His fur was a shade of bronze with a golden mane and his eyes sparkled with the shine of green emeralds. His very presence caused both of the squabbling ponies to kneel in respect.

            “Duke Tragedy!” Gasped the pony, “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

            “My, my, my… do I have to have motive for my presence?” Laughed the unicorn. “To think that one cannot simply watch the play unfold before him without its characters breaking role.”

            “Of course, sire…” said the kirin, his head still bowed down. “We are foolish for questioning someone such as an advisor to her majesty. Please find it in your heart to forgive us.”

            “Let me see…” wondered Tragedy, reaching into the collar of his shirt and pulling out a gold-chained pendant of a ruby heart. “I can’t see anything in here… how tragic!” he laughed, letting the necklace hang freely from his neck. “But I suppose there is a purpose to this introduction. I am after all a pivotal character!”

            “Sir?” Wondered the pony soldier. “What are you talking about?”

            “The play, of course!” Said Tragedy. “I need all the players to gather forth but some simply refuse to come to the casting call.”

            “There’s a play?” The kirin asked. “What play?”

            “Can’t you see it? It’s the one setting up before our very eyes!” He screamed joyfully jumping in the air. “Tell me, where is the white mare? Did she manage to escape?”

            “Umm…” gulped the pony, “We’ve been sifting through bodies all day, but there have been a few missing personnel and prisoners, the white mare being one of them.”

            “Perfect!” Squealed the dark stallion. “The damsel of our fairy tale! And who would be her savior, her Prince Charming? Tell me, fool! Who is her knight in shining armour?”

            “Well, Duster was the last pony to see the prisoner,” said the kirin. “But he said he saw a dragon break her out of the cage.”

            “A dragon?” Wondered Tragedy. “Brilliant! Such drama, plot and conflict! I can see it now!” He laughed, pulling in the pony soldier close to him. He pointed towards the horizon of Equestria just as the sun started to rise. “Just imagine the journey of these star-crossed lovers. Destined by the very fates to travel back to the heaven to bliss in its morning glimmer! Oh how beautiful this play will be! And it’s only just begun!”

            “Sir… you’re squeezing really hard on my neck…”

            “Shut up,” snarled the poetic stallion. “I’m in the middle of a monologue. Now where was I?”

            “It had just begun?”

            “Oh yes, thank you,” replied the bronze pony, resuming character. “And it’s only just begun! This dragon and this pony have no idea the events that they have set in motion, a poem of death and heartache, a ballad of war and a love story to be told through the ages! This will be their story and a beautiful one it will be!”

            “Sir?” asked the kirin. “What are you suggesting? You’re not making any sense.”

            “All the best ponies don’t,” laughed Tragedy. “It takes a mind as pure as a budding flower, yet as grimy as a dung beetle to create such promise.”

            “But what about the prisoner?” Asked the pony soldier. “And what about the dragon?”

            “Oh them?” Hummed the acting pony. “They will die.”

            “Die?”

            “But of course. For when this play ends and the curtains fall, we will have witnessed the greatest tragedy known to pony-kind! For all of the greatest plays end tragically. Oh, how I look forward to the chaos. Their blood will run redder than the velvet carpet and they will cry like a banshee as I, their grim reaper, whisk their souls into the deepest and darkest bowels of hell. But I won’t be so cruel. I’ll see to it that their spirits remain entombed together. A little relief for the audience I suppose…”

            “This guy is insane,” whispered the kirin.

            “What?” asked Tragedy. “I have many roles to play, so forgive me for breaking character. Now I must retire for the day. I will be sure to tell her royal darkness about the plot of our exciting production. Oh, how riveting it all is. I might even forget to tell Princess Luna about your little blunder.”

            “Of course, Duke Tragedy,” bowed the kirin. “Thank you for your forgiveness.”

            “Stick to the script,” said the bronze pony, walking away the two ponies. “All your lines are highlighted and I don’t accept improv.”

            “Yes, Duke Tragedy,” the pony said, watching for the tall unicorn to get out of earshot. When he disappeared from view the two finally relaxed. “By the glory of Luna, that guy creeps me out.”

            “You’re telling me. Guy’s got a few screws loose in the head, I think.”

            “That’s what makes him dangerous…” gulped the pony. “Anyways, let’s get the rest of these bodies moved.”

            “Good idea,” said the kirin, grabbing the next body from the wreckage and throwing him into the growing corpse pile.