Of Scales and Feathers

Hours of searching. Or what seemed like hours. With their throats dry and their limbs tired, Spike figured they would only last a few more minutes before either one of them collapsed from one thing or another. "What I wouldn't do for just one drink. I'd take a hay shake at this point," he vocalized his desperation, hearing a dry and tired groan from behind him. He assumed it was Gilda trying to laugh, but found no merriment in her tone. She sounded as if she were near-death. If a miracle was to happen, it needed to happen soon.

He stopped walking for a moment and heard Gilda do the same behind him. "You alright?" she asked worriedly, but weakly.

"Look at that," he said, pointing out a particularly live tree. Leaves, vines, brush; all signs that pointed to a nearby water source. "There's got to be some kind of water nearby. And if that tree isn't oozing purple slime I say it's worth a shot. Come on," he said, his voice more energized. But despite his growing excitement, he could see the gryphoness was at her limits. Now he had a choice.

He could leave her to rest here whilst he went and searched for food and water, or he could try and help her along. His mind flashed back to the clearing, back to the fighting, and back to their "moment" beside the campfire. The latter choice won by a landslide. "Come on," he said softly as he moved back towards her. Gilda's expression hardly changed but he could see the apparent confusion on her face as he shifted up to her side and got low enough for his belly to touch the ground.

"What are you doing?" she asked, oblivious to his apparent plan to help her. All she saw was the dragon laying on the ground next to her. Did he plan on taking a nap? Not that she was opposed to a little sleep, but still - this was hardly the place or time.

"Lay your forelegs across my neck. You'll only have to use your hind legs to walk so it'll save you enough energy until we find the stream, or pond, or whatever is up ahead," he said confidently, looking up at her with determination in his eyes. What he saw staring back was a bit less positive however. Indignation. Wounded pride. Maybe even anger.

"I'm not letting you carry me, Spike," she said with a bit more wind in her sails. "I'm not a damsel in distre-" she began, but stumbled as her head went light and her vision began spinning. Using up whatever energy she had left, she muttered her distaste but made no further comment as she found herself draped over Spike's shoulders. His frills dug into her chest but not in a painful way; the pain was coming from her pride, not her flesh.

"No, you're not. You're pretty much our best bet of getting out of here alive, actually," he retorted, trying to repair her blatantly wounded dignity. Gryphons were infamous for their boastful attitudes and highly prideful nature - it was no surprise that Gilda would hold a bit of that trait within her. His mind wandered back to the night in Zecora's hut as he remembered the promise he had made to her, to make her life a bit happier by any means necessary.

"Besides," he groaned as he stood onto all fours and lifted his weight along with hers, "I already promised myself I'd help get us both out of here. It's my turn to get a little dirty for a change!"

"We're both dirty. Need a bath," Gilda shot back. Well if her joking nature was gone before, it was thankfully temporary. Spike could hear the playful undertone of her voice behind the low volume and grips of fatigue upon her throat. "Maybe preening," she let slip, to which Spike kind of recoiled.

"I thought that was sort of a.. Private matter? Rainbow Dash treats it like a forbidden ritual," he panted as she dragged himself slowly over the crunching leaves and twigs underfoot. The leaves served only to give him confidence, though - he was close.

"Too tired to care," Gilda responded with an airy, dry laugh. "Cover your eyes if it bothers ya," she said with a weak shrug, which he felt across his own shoulders. It was liked she had been sapped of any and all life in her bones and was barely holding on. He wondered if she would fall asleep on his back and was about to ask if she needed a break when he heard it.

Trickling, like a whisper of life running over a bed of rocks. A stream. He had found a stream! Of water!

"Gilda! Gilda, do you hear that?" he asked, but only got a mumble in reply. He couldn't tell if she was agreeing or not but that didn't matter. Soon, he could provide her with enough water that she would be up and about, good as new.

Using any and all of his senses that might help him, Spike tracked down the source of the water until he came upon the smallest of puddles. That was all he needed. It was hardly bigger than his hand, but it would suffice to test it. Dipping a claw into the pool, he was overjoyed to find that when he pulled it back out, a claw was indeed still there. So he knew it wasn't harmful to him or his scales. It was another matter, of course, if it might harm his tongue or Gilda's hide.

Pressing on in search of a larger source, Spike found bigger, grander puddles. Every so often he would test another, only to find the same effect - nothing bad happened. It all seemed like normal water. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted fog - no, mist. He spotted steam.

Gilda let out a soft groan of displeasure as Spike twisted suddenly and nearly bolted for the source of the water, but he hardly had time to apologize. He had realized quite a while ago the severity of the situation and was too focused on helping Gilda to pay attention to Gilda.

It slowed him down only momentarily when he thought of how crazy that sounded.

He bent down towards the water, hearing Gilda gasp as she nearly dove face-first into the pool of hot water. "Wait!" he said a bit too loudly, his voice echoing around them through the trees as she reached out and held her back. Her beak was wide open and her eyes were filled with both confusion and anger at having been denied her desire.

"I need to check if it's okay to drink, first. We don't know if the water is safe, and my stomach is a bit stronger than yours," he explained carefully, realizing how selfish he sounded. Slowly her beak closed, but the look never left her eyes. He would have to be quick about this, he realized. Leaning in towards the water, he cupped his hands together like a bowl and scooped up a bit of water, dipping his more fragile tongue into the small pool that he created. After a few moments, he took a sip of the life-giving substance and concluded that he had indeed found a miracle.

"Perfect. You can't just dive into the pool, though. Take it easy and drink your fill, but slow.. And you can't hear me," he sighed as he watched Gilda shove her face under the water in an attempt to gulp down as much as she could handle. After just a few seconds she came up coughing, but with a smile on her face.

"Oh, shut up," a bout of sputtering coughs, "you know you're thirsty too. Let's drink." She went at it more slowly this time and Spike realized he actually was thirsty. He hadn't realized just how thirsty he was until he tried to swallow and it felt like he had drank needles out of a broken glass.

Preferring a bit of a slower method, however, he made another bowl with his hands and brought it up to his face to sip at the water carefully. Soon he found Gilda doing the same, and shared with her another moment of joy. They had found water, at last, and it was safe. They were safe - if only for the moment. Food would have to come soon, but that would be a lot easier than finding a source of water. He would have to guard this location dearly.

After the two had had their fill, Spike thought back to Gilda's previous statement. The pool was rather large. They could bathe in one side and drink from another; it wouldn't keep out any contamination, but at least the filth would sink from their bodies and down to one side of the pool.

So, with barely contained excitement, Spike asked, "So. Who's got dibs on the first bath?" It was a rhetorical question of course - he was going to insist that she take the first bath anyway. He was content just to sit on his haunches and relax for a bit. The rays of sunshine coming through the trees and warmth from the sauna-like pool filled him with a radiant comfort that made him just want to sleep - something which he remembered that he had not done in over a day.

"About that," Gilda said quietly, wiping a bit of water away from her beak with a forearm. "I'm gonna kinda.. Need some help. I was hoping you and I could.. Y'know. Share a bath?" She looked back at him with trepidation in her eyes. It was clear she wasn't exactly comfortable with the idea, but that she meant it.

It made total sense to Spike, but that didn't make it any less awkward. He hadn't known about the gesture with their tails, and he still didn't quite know what preening meant to gryphons, but he did know that sharing a bath with another creature was a bit of a step up from "casual friends". You were either family or you were intimate at that point.

This understanding did little in the way of comfort for him, and he made that rather clear through his muttering speech. HE stumbled over his words and thoughts alike before finally settling on a shaky, "Alright."

"Relax, lover-boy. We're not exactly having a makeout session. I just need you to reach places I can't. Way too tired and way too sore to get to my back or my uh.. My wings," she explained, looking away and rubbing the side of her neck. If she could blush, Spike might have noticed that she felt as if she had been lit on fire. Thankfully, feathers did wonders at hiding such things.

Spike explained his earlier thoughts and, having agreed to it, Gilda and the young dragon half-limped their way over to the other side of the pool. Spike was the first to ease himself in. When no tentacles, monsters or otherwise terrifying creatures came grabbing at him, he deemed it safe enough to lower himself in further. The warm water easing between his tired scales did wonders for his relaxation, and he couldn't help but let out a satisfied groan of relief as the tension eased its way through his muscles. It was a good, tired pain that signified he was finally resting.

He caught Gilda's expression, her eyebrows arched and her beak curled up as she stifled a laugh at his relaxed nature. "Don't knock it 'till you try it," he said with a hand held out, ready to take hers and ease her into the pool beside him. She took it after a moment, still not looking him in the face as she gingerly stepped her way into the pool, wincing slightly as the warm water found its way beyond her feathers and to her more sensitive hide.

After laying herself down with just her head above the water, however, relaxation found its way to her just as easily. She let out a mixture of a tired laugh and a grateful moan as the pain that had made its home within her exhausted body made its way outwards. Even her wing's pain had slightly subside now that it was being supported by the calm waters of the pool.

"Gotta hand it to you, Scales. You know how to treat a lady," she joked with half-lidded eyes, the comforts of the water making its way through her body. "But now comes the fun part. Imma need you to help wash my back first, 'cause there's not a chance that I could reach it."

"Not a problem," he boasted confidently, even with his hands slightly trembling at the thought of it. When he rationalized it, however, he figured it would be just like any other back massage that he had given. Just with a bit of water. And extremely close proximity. And a bit of some unsolved mysteries swirling through his head.

When he laid his hands onto Gilda's back, he felt her muscles twitch beneath his touch immediately. She looked away and closed her eyes, trying to relax as best she could for the oncoming awkwardness that was invading her feelings. He worked as he usually did; back and forth, back and forth, in a rhythm that was designed to soothe aching muscles - something that Gilda had plenty of.

"I'm a gryphon, Scales, not a show-pony. Dig in with those claws if you want to make some headway," Gilda suggested over her shoulder softly. It was true, she was enjoying the treatment, but her hide was a bit too tough to just be pressed on until it got better. She required a bit of a stronger touch.

Then, as per her orders, Spike dug his claws in a little bit. He had to move them just right so as to not slice into her hide, but he had done this at least a dozen times before. He wasn't exactly a pro, but he was surely no novice. And judging from the soft sighs coming from the gryphon under his touch, she would be likely to agree with him. He worked the water into and over her hide, washing away grime and filth that had accumulated upon her after the perilous journey through the forest.

"Where'd you learn this?" mumbled a content Gilda, barely keeping her head bobbing above the water as the pain was kneaded from her bones by the dragon's touch. "Seems like something that might make someone popular," she added with a smirk, happy to return to her old jokes.

"I taught myself, actually. Twilight tends to get tense when she stresses out, and that tends to be almost all the time," he explained with a smile and a shrug. "I figured I could help her out a bit if I took up the practice and it just kinda stuck. And yeah, it hasn't exactly made me any enemies."

"With friends like you, who needs enemies?" she replied, looking back at Spike, his expression changing to that of a wide grin with his hands still working their magic. Soon enough, he moved to different areas along her back. She noticed he was polite in his workings, though; he never spent much time on a spot he thought to be "forbidden". Her flanks, the base of her tail, the base of her wings. If he thought it to be too intimate, he made it obvious.

"Alright, champ. Now comes the fun part. I need you to help me preen the feathers on my wings," she said, motioning for his hands to pull back as she shifted her weight and sat up. With a wince of pain she extended both wings - including the injured one, with a bit of trouble - and demonstrated how many feathers she had. "Now since you're entirely new to this, I won't have you adjusting any of them or anything of that sort. We're just gonna be doing a touch-up."

Spike silently nodded and audibly confirmed he was listening when asked if he understood as she explained the different methods of how grooming worked with a gryphon's wings. From what he understood, he'd be picking through each feather for dust, dirt, and general gunk that had accumulated. What he didn't know was why this was so sacred an activity; fortunately, this was the next step that Gilda explained.

"Every foreign touch onto my feathers and wings sends a tingling down my spine. It's like tickling, sorta. But a bit more.. Well, you know. Better," she rationalized, her voice dropping off at the end. He understood well enough to know that this was going to be quite the interesting experience, at least.

Mentally steeling himself against whatever awkwardness this might bring, Spike settled in for the job. At least the water was warm enough that his blushing didn't make much difference in the temperature. There was always a bright side.