Peewee's Big Adventure

Chapters

A Little Phoenix Takes Flight
Encountering Adventure
Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained
Into Unfriendly Territory
So Close, Yet So Far Away
The End of An Adventure
Onwards and Offwards

A Little Phoenix Takes Flight

Peewee’s Big Adventure

by Abstract Thought

In a forest far from any pony settlements, yet uncomfortably close to dragon settlements, there lived a family of phoenixes. This family of phoenixes wasn’t particularly special, except that one of its members was a young fledgling who, as an egg, had been saved and raised by a sadly rare nice dragon, at least before being returned to his own kind.

His name…was Peewee.

Well, at least that was the name he preferred to go by. Peewee wasn’t the name his parents had wanted for him–they originally planned to name him Pietro–but he refused to go by any other name than the one given to him by his dragon caretaker. His father had argued that Peewee, while cute as a kid’s name, was an ill-fitting moniker for a full-grown phoenix. Peewee, in his simple wisdom, had simply replied, “Who says I’m ever gonna be a full-grown phoenix?”

Thus, the name stayed.

At first, Peewee had been happy with his new family. Finally, he wasn’t the only phoenix in the world! Now he had parents who could teach him all about phoenix stuff and siblings who he could play with and get into childish arguments with! But as time went on, his cheer gradually deflated like a party balloon left abandoned on the floor. His thoughts kept drifting back to Spike, the dragon who had adopted him in his time of separation and taught him everything he new about being a pony…which turned out to be pretty useless as soon as it was revealed that he was not, in fact, a pony.

In short, he was homesick. But wasn’t he technically home now, with his real family? Or was Spike his real family? How could he work out such a conundrum? He wasn’t even old enough to worry about puberty! He at first tried to bury his confusing feelings and keep a smile on his beak, but that didn’t work out for too long as all the constant smiling hurt his face. He then tried sleeping a lot so he wouldn’t have to think, but he just kept dreaming about Spike and the fun times he had with him. Why did his brain hate him so much?

And so it came to be that one colorful, sunset-drenched evening, Peewee came to a decision.

“Dad, I have to talk to you about something,” Peewee said to his father. The young phoenix had no idea what his father’s real name was, since he only responded to “Father” or “Dad”, even by his own mate. Peewee found that rather strange, since his mother had no problems being addressed by her real name, Penelope. Maybe it was a dad thing? Oh well, he had bigger things to worry about.

“Yes, my son?” he asked in a deep and regal voice that he had clearly spent a lot of time practicing.

“Well…” Peewee paused and whistled softly, something he often did when he was nervous. He couldn’t really explain it, but he always felt calmer when there was music, especially when it was his own. Maybe it was a bird thing?

“That’s a nice melody, son,” Father complimented. He should know; he spent a lot of time practicing his whistling too.

“Uh, thanks!” Peewee definitely felt warmer and more comfortable from that compliment. Or maybe it was the setting sun? Either way, he was ready to continue. “So anyway, I’ve been thinking, and…you know I love you, right?”

“Of course, son,” Father assured him, draping a gentle wing over the young phoenix. “Your love is truly a gift. I don’t know what I would do without it. After all,” he continued, his voice rising dramatically, “what is a family without love? What, indeed, is society without love? To live without love is a life I don’t wish upon anybirdy, and I will make sure that you never have to live without–”

“I wanna go back to Spike!” Peewee blurted out with all the tact of a pony kicking a dragon in the face.

Father flinched as though a pony had kicked him in the face. A really small pony, of course, but still. “Wow, that’s…quite an announcement, son,” he said after a breathless silence. “Especially since you interrupted me in the middle of a speech to make it. That was uncalled for, son.”

“Sorry, Dad,” Peewee replied meekly.

“Son, please tell me,” Father beseeched as he looked his flesh and blood in his cute little eyes. “Have I been a bad father? Have I not given you enough love? Have I failed to provide you with the necessary worms and berries to satisfy your palate? Because I can always give you more! Your siblings are big enough to get their own food and hug themselves, anyway!”

“No, Dad, of course not!” Peewee reassured quickly as he waved his wings frantically in front of him.

“Then what is it?” Father pressed. “Is it your siblings? Has Priscilla been making fun of your tail feathers again? Is Percival still trying to give you purple nurples? Do I need to talk to him again about why that’s not possible? Please, whatever is troubling you, I can fix it! It’s my duty as your father!” By this point, his face was uncomfortably close to Peewee’s, prompting the tyke to scooch back a bit.

“It’s nothing like that, trust me!” Peewee said, his insides all aflutter with nervousness like a pony he couldn’t remember the name of. “It’s just…Spike was the first guy I saw when I was born, and even though he wasn’t a phoenix or a grown-up, he was so nice to me!” A smile came to his face as fond memories of his former caretaker came to him. “I felt like we had so much in common! He taught me all sorts of cool things, like how to breathe fire, and how to play my belly like a bongo, and even how to smell my feet! I used to snuggle with him every night when we went to sleep, at least until no-fun Twilight told me it was “bad for my development” or something. Pfft, like she would know!” He blew a raspberry at the distant pony, then, with a wistful sigh, continued, “Don’t get me wrong, Dad; I’m really happy I could be with my real family, but, well…I just felt something with Spike, like some kind of life connection or something. I don’t know how to explain it. I just…need him, and I think he needs me.”

Father went silent and stared off into the distance for a while, long enough for Peewee’s left foot to fall asleep. “I see,” he finally said. “If you truly miss him…I suppose I can’t stop you from returning to him.”

Peewee blinked in surprise. “You can’t?”

“Well, I could always physically restrain you and watch you constantly,” Father replied thoughtfully, “but eventually I would become exhausted from the constant surveillance, allowing you to escape while my guard was down. I could always track you down upon regaining my energy, but then our lives would become a constant game of cat and mouse, eventually destroying the bonds between us and tearing our family apart. Therefore, it is in everybirdy’s best interest if I let you make your own decision on the matter.”

“Uh…” Peewee stared blankly at his father, still trying to wrap his mind around what he had just said. Sometimes Father could be downright disturbing in his matter-of-fact explanations, like when Peewee had asked where babies come from and Father had told him every intimate, soul-crushing detail of how he was born. And then there was the time that Peewee had nearly broken his wing in a flying accident, and Father, in hopes of easing his pain, had told him about the time he had broken all his bones as a kid and described in immaculate detail about the excruciating pain he had felt, at least until he learned how to turn into ash and become reborn good as new. For some reason, Peewee hadn’t slept well that night.

“So…does this mean you’ll take me back to Spike?” he asked hopefully.

“No, my son,” Father answered solemnly. “You must go on this journey alone.”

Peewee felt his lower beak drop and hit the branch he was perched on.

“WHAT?!”

Father gave a low chuckle at his son’s reaction. “I must say, you’re taking this better than I expected.”

“You really expect me to get back to Spike all by myself?!” Peewee protested. “I’m just a kid! I’ve never flown farther than the top of that mountain with water-flavored ice cream on it, and that was only cause Paulie and Phaedra were there to help me!”

“That may be true, son,” Father replied, “but part of the purpose of this journey is showing how much you’ve grown. You’re not the same little chick that tried to eat my beak when we first met.”

“I’m not?!” Peewee gasped. “Have I been replaced by a changeling?! Are there even changeling birds?! Are they all out to get me?!” Panicked thoughts ran through Peewee’s mind like rabbits who were all late for some sort of rabbit party, at least until Father calmly rested a wing on Peewee’s head.

“Calm down, son, that’s not what I meant,” Father explained with greater patience than most birds have for their chicks. “What I mean to say is that you’re growing up. It won’t be long before you’re capable of being independent and starting a family of your own. That is why you must journey alone, as a test of your growth and strength. Also, if I supervised you throughout your journey, your mother would have to watch all five of your siblings by herself. Do you really wish to subject her to that?”

“Uh, I guess not,” Peewee muttered.

“Then it’s settled!” Father said with an air of decisiveness (and just a hint of smugness). “We shall prepare for your journey! Now come along, Peewee! We shall prepare a splendorous farewell feast for your departure!” With that, he flew off to the nest where the family dwelled.

“Wow, what kind of feast?” Peewee asked excitedly as he flew behind him.

“Well, just the usual worms and berries,” Father admitted. “But they’ll be significant worms and berries!”

“Oh, boy! That sounds delicious!” Peewee chirped, as birds tend to do.

“Indeed, my son,” Father replied.

And they were delicious. Of course, worms and berries were always delicious, but that’s beside the point. Peewee’s stomach felt more at ease after only a couple of those delectable treats. Sadly, that was all he got to eat before the stomach-churning topic was brought up again.

“So, Peewee, dear,” his mother asked him as he was on his second worm. “You said you had something to tell us?”

Peewee gulped nervously. “Uh…look what I can do!” Thinking fast, he grabbed the nearest berry and balanced it on top of his beak like a seal, if seals had beaks and berries were the size of beach balls.

“Pfft, that’s nothing,” his brother Paulie scoffed. “Check this out!” He grabbed a blue bouncy ball he had next to him and balanced it on his beak like Peewee was doing, only better.

“Hey, where’d you get that thing?” Percival asked through a mouth full of chewed up berry paste.

“Found it,” Paulie said simply, accidentally unbalancing his ball and making it roll over the top of his head and off the nest. “Oh, bird droppings!”

Their mother gasped. “Paulie!” she scolded. “Watch your tongue!”

“How am I supposed to do that?” he countered. “My beak’s in the way.” He stuck out his tongue to demonstrate. “Thee?”

“I’m pretty sure Mom meant that she wants you to not use any more expletives,” Peabody explained. After a short pause, he turned to his mother and added, “That is what you meant, right?”

“Yes, Peabody, that is what I meant,” she confirmed with the serene smile of a mother who’s done this a hundred times before.

“Mm-hmm, I thought so!” Peabody said with the haughty pose of a know-it-all who’s been proven right at least 95% of the time, give or take 1.5%.

Father cleared his throat as loudly yet majestically as a phoenix could, which was…well, it had to be heard to be believed. “As fascinating as this all is, I believe Peewee still has an announcement to make.” He turned to the young fledgling, who was still concentrating on balancing his berry like his life depended on it, and, with a brilliant flash of motion, snatched the berry off his son’s beak and gulped it down. “That’s enough of that nice trick, son. Now why don’t you tell your family your big news?”

After a stunned stare at his father for that trick that made his trick look like the old “wave a twig really fast to look like you’re bending it with magic” trick, he cleared his throat in a not-nearly-as-majestic way and began, “Uh, I…”

“Ooh! I know! You’re going to lay an egg!” Phaedra burst out with an excited squeal.

“Male phoenixes can’t lay eggs, Phae,” Peabody said. A pause, then a turn to his father, for a change. “They can’t, right?”

“No, they can’t,” Father affirmed.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Peabody sighed in relief.

“Uh, no, my news has nothing to do with eggs,” Peewee said. “At least I don’t think it does. Maybe I’ll find an egg or something?” He felt a subtle nudge from his father jolt him back to the main topic. “Oh! Anyway, uh…” He gulped down the last of his nervousness (which tasted remarkably similar to rotten lemons) and forced out, “I’ve decided to leave the nest.”

There was a stunned silence at that announcement, which was broken by Percival cheering, “Yes! More food for me!” When he noticed all the others glaring at him, he forced his expression into one of gloom and added, “Uh, I mean, oh no, Peewee’s leaving!”

“I think you’ve had quite enough food for today, young fowl,” his mother scolded. “Go to the time-out hollow, and don’t come out until I say so.”

“But Mom–“

“Now!” she snapped, flashing brilliantly to show she meant business.

With a sigh and a grumble, Percival flew over to a nearby tree hollow that the parents used whenever they wanted to punish somebirdy. In the hollow lived a squirrel that loved getting visitors and would always tell those who stopped by stories about his life, most of them nut-related. Without fail, his stories were dry, long-winded, and just plain boring, guaranteeing that no one would ever want to visit him again by choice. Before she became a mother, Penelope had had the misfortune of visiting him and being subjected to his dreadful storytelling, and she was only able to get away from him by claiming she had to go save the world, an excuse that would buy her at least 22 minutes. Once she started having chicks, she got the idea to use what she had gone through as a deterrent from misbehavior, and it turned out to be quite effective. Of course, the squirrel had no idea that he was being used as a method of punishment; he just thought he was really popular with kids. The only one who actually liked any of his stories was Peewee, though that was mainly due to his being used to dry and long-winded stories, thanks to Twilight.

Turning back to Peewee, his mother asked, “Peewee, dear, why would you want to leave so soon? You’re still a growing chick! It’s only been a month since I’ve had to stop chewing your worms before you could eat them!”

“Mom!” Peewee griped, his face developing a blush that was somehow visible despite the feathers covering his skin.

“Ha-ha, what a baby beak!” Priscilla said while pointing and laughing, something she’d perfected through constant practice.

“I’d think twice about making fun of your brother like that, Priscilla,” her mother warned her with a disconcerting smile. “Unless you’d like me to bring up what happened when you tried to use poison ivy as head decorations?”

Priscilla’s eyes widened, then she sat down and crossed her wings with a huff. “You’re no fun.”

Her mother simply giggled at that reaction. Don’t mess with the mom.

“Anyway,” Peewee cut in, “I know I’m young, but I feel the need to spread my wings and make something of myself out there! You know, something that looks just like me but is better in every way! Isn’t that what we all want? To go on incredibly long journeys so that you can find yourself or some other weird saying?” He decided not to mention the part about him wanting to ditch his family because he preferred being raised by a baby dragon. It was tough enough having to explain that to his old man; he really didn’t want to have to relive the drama with the rest of the nest as well.

“What exactly can you find out there that you can’t find here?” Phaedra asked.

“All sorts of things!” Peewee said, his wings flapping excitedly as he recalled the wonders of his old environment. “There’s these things called books that can tell stories with these weird scratches on them called writing, and there are these things called video games that can create pictures that change when you hit these things called buttons, and then there’s the pink dessert pony! Mmm! She makes the best things ever, like cookies and cakes and cookies and donuts and cookies and brownies and…mmm, cookies…” His eyes glazed over like donuts as sugar clouded his vision and fogged up his brain.

Another silence settled in like a friend who comes by for a “little” visit and can never be convinced to leave, until he was forcefully shoved outside by Paulie’s innocent voice. “Has Peewee gone crazy, Dad?”

“Yes he has, my son,” Father answered with immeasurable wisdom, “and that’s why I think it’s a good idea for him to go on this journey. He needs to see the world for what it is before he can truly grow. I mean, look how small he is compared to the rest of us; he has yet to have the experiences we’ve had.”

“Like laying eggs?” Phaedra suggested.

“Will you stop it with the eggs already?!” Priscilla and Peabody snapped at the same time. They went silent and stared at each other when they realized what had happened.

“Wow, that was spooky,” Priscilla said.

“I don’t even want to think about the odds of that happening,” Peabody added.

“As I was saying,” Father continued in hopes of bringing dignity back to the scene, “it is of utmost importance that Peewee goes on this journey. He has an adventure to experience–a big adventure of Peewee’s one might say–and we must be supportive of him if he is to reach his full potential.” He turned his proud gaze to Peewee and said warmly, “Now, son, let us have one last family hug, to give you the morale-boosting strength that only love can provide.”

Peewee didn’t answer; he was still in an imaginary sugar-induced stupor from all the memories of cookies he had eaten.

“Son?” Father nudged him gently with his wing.

No response.

Losing patience, Father took a deep breath, lowered his head to Peewee’s level…and blew an epic raspberry right into Peewee’s earhole.

“CAW!” Peewee crowed like a raven attacked by a rabid desk and leapt up into the air like a jackrabbit that lost his jack. Unfortunately, he forgot to flap his wings and ended up landing on top of his father, causing them both to flop hard onto the nest. Peewee quickly shook his head like an overused metaphor and was brought back to his senses. “Hey guys, what’d I miss?” he asked innocently.

“Group hug time!” Phaedra cheered.

“Yay!” Peewee dashed over to Phaedra and gave her a hug tackle, his favorite method of hugging, and the other siblings (except Percival, cause he was still in timeout) and his mother joined in the hug. It was the best bird hug Peewee had ever had. He could feel the love coursing through his body, giving him the strength he’d need to conquer the universe. Or to return home to Spike. Whichever.

“Bye, Peewee!” Paulie cried.

“I’ll miss you soooooo much!” Phaedra added.

“Be sure to visit and tell us what you learned over there!” Peabody chimed in.

“You better not mess up your tail feathers!” Priscilla demanded, doing her best to wipe away the tears building up without anyone seeing (and failing).

Peewee laughed in loving merriment. “Aw, you guys are the best!” He then turned and noticed that his father was still lying on the floor of the nest. “Is he going to be okay?” he asked, feeling guilty.

“He’ll be just fine, dear,” his mother assured him. “He’s taken plenty of knocks to the head since I’ve known him. No need to worry about your father…” She then pulled Peewee closer and whispered slyly, “Or should I say Peckin’ Pa?”

Peewee stared at her. “Wha?”

“Better get going, dear!” she said out loud. “Don’t want to miss any adventure now, do you?”

“Oh, right!” Peewee took to the air and said with a farewell wave, “Bye, everybirdy! I’ll be sure to visit you someday!” With that, he took off toward the great unknown, with nothing but the feathers on his back and a couple of spare berries in his pockets.

…What? You didn’t know all animals had pockets? Clearly you fell asleep during biology class, you naughty foal.

And thus began Peewee’s great journey to Ponyville, the humble town where he had resided with Spike before his return to the nest. The energetic phoenix had set his doubts aside and was focused only on completing his journey and reuniting with his beloved godfather, a reunion that would set right all that was wrong with the world!

…At least until Peewee fell asleep in mid-flight after only a few minutes, because he had forgotten that it was late and past his bedtime.

End of Part 1

Author's Note

Hope you're enjoying the story so far! Peewee doesn't get enough love from the fans or writers–there's not even a character tag for the little guy, for Celestia's sake–so I'm giving him an awesome adventure to give him the spotlight he deserves. I hope I can do him justice.

By the way, if you were wondering what Peewee's family looks like, here's a family portrait:

http://abstract--thought.deviantart.com/art/Peewee-s-Family-by-Serious-Rainbow-Mod-406230048

I hope to get the next part done as soon as I can! See ya later!

Encountering Adventure

Today was a perfect day for adventure! After a good night’s sleep, Peewee was ready to ride the winds of adventure! He could hear just hear the winds excitedly whispering, “Adventure! Adventure!” Or that could have been an adventure-happy tick that had burrowed into Peewee’s earhole while he was asleep. …Nah, that’d just be silly!

Peewee had taken to the skies and was flying as fast as his stubby little wings could take him. He headed in the direction that he remembered coming from before, when Spike had taken him on a long and not-so-exciting journey to where his phoenix family resided. Of course, the “not-so-exciting” part was mainly because the little bird was being supervised by Spike and not allowed to wander off too far. But now, he was able to adventure the way he wanted! He was so excited to get started he hadn’t even eaten or taken his morning poop; all that was on his mind was getting to Spike as soon as possible!

He could just imagine how Spike would react to his return…

“Hey Spike!” Peewee burst into the room with a flare-filled flair that Trixie would be proud of. “I’m BAAAAAAAAACK!”

“GAH! What the hay?!” Spike cried out as he scrambled to cover himself. “I’m using the bathroom over here!”

Peewee stopped and stared blankly. “Oh, was I supposed to wait until you were done?”

“GET OUT!” Spike screamed, his face the color of an apple that had put too much blush on itself.

Peewee felt himself wilt. “Somehow, I thought this would go a little differently…”

“Oof!” Peewee’s train of thought was violently derailed by a collision with something big, brown, and scaly. At first Peewee thought it was a mountain, at least until he heard it yelp in pain and he felt a claw wrap around him. He was pretty sure mountains didn’t have voices or claws, though it could have been a new breed of mountain he was unaware of. It wouldn’t be the strangest thing he’s seen, after all.

“Hey, what gives?” The brown dragon had just been sitting down for a nice breakfast of gems and smooth rocks (to help with his acid reflux) when suddenly, out of nowhere, something pointy struck him in the back! It didn’t hurt him, of course, but still, things don’t just strike him in the back out of nowhere, at least not while he’s sitting down. So he was pleasantly surprised to find out that the thing that hit him wasn’t a stupid rock, but a stupid baby phoenix! “Well, what do we have here?” he asked out loud, even though he already knew what they had here.

“Oh, hello there!” Peewee greeted, cheerfully oblivious to the drool leaking from the pot-bellied dragon’s mouth. “Are you a mountain?”

“Looks like my breakfast just got a whole lot better,” the dragon said with a hungry smile. He was about to chow down on the unsuspecting chick when a voice broke his concentration.

“Hey, Gronkle!” A tall, red dragon walked over with a mean look in his eye, and everywhere else for that matter. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I was gonna eat this bird here,” Gronkle responded. “What’s it to you?”

Peewee felt his stomach churn at that little tidbit. Oh great…these are the mean dragons my parents warned me about, aren’t they? Why couldn’t I have come across a bunch of cute and cuddly dragons instead? Is that really too much to ask?

“You know phoenixes go against your diet, Gronk,” the red dragon scolded him. He held out a claw and suggested, “Why don’t you give the little morsel over to someone who’s in better shape?”

“Why don’t you go away and mind your own business, Mom?” Gronkle retorted, holding Peewee uncomfortably close to his armpits.

“Why don’t I make you my business and take the runt for myself, anyway?!” the red dragon snapped, looming over him threateningly like a taxidermic bear that’s constantly poised for attack but never actually attacks, the lazybones.

“Uh, do I have a say in this?” Peewee chimed in.

“Oh, you wanna play rough, hotshot?!” Gronkle growled back as he got to his feet surprisingly quickly and looked his taller peer in the eyes.

“Yeah, maybe I do, tubby!” the red dragon shouted, matching his stout counterpart’s glare.

“Guess not,” Peewee said with a sigh.

“Who’re you calling tubby, string bean?!” Gronkle shot back, pressing his head aggressively against the red dragon’s face.

“Nice comeback, lardo!” the red dragon said, pressing back.

“Shish-kebab!”

“Pincushion!”

“One-dimensional!”

“Turd-dimensional!”

“Now kiss!” a black and green dragon called out from the small crowd that had gathered due to all the ruckus.

The two dragons responded by turning and giving the caller a disgusted glare, like one would give to a guy with a huge zit who’s criticizing everyone else’s appearance. Gronkle then got the idea to take advantage of the red dragon’s distracted attention and gave him a good, hard kick in the groin. That brought him to the ground rather quickly.

“Never mess with a dragon’s breakfast,” Gronkle said with a triumphant smirk. He then turned his gaze to the little phoenix in his claws, licked his lips, and continued, “Now, time to chow down!”

However, for some reason, Peewee really wasn’t in the mood to get eaten. So, thinking fast, he took a deep breath and spit some fire right in Gronkle’s eye, the one place dragons weren’t impervious to fire. Gronkle screamed in pain and flailed his arms almost unlike a windmill, something that would have made Peewee lose his lunch if he had eaten any, and if it wasn’t too early for lunch. Thankfully, he was finally released when the rotund dragon stumbled over his assortment of breakfast minerals and flopped on the ground like a really fat flounder.

Peewee sat on the ground for a few seconds, dazedly watching little phoenixes circle around him. “Hey, when’d you guys get here?” he groaned. “And why are you all flying in circles?” By the time he came to his senses, he noticed a few other dragons were closing in on him.

“Come here, little guy,” a lanky purple dragon with what looked like a mop on his head said coaxingly, his claws outstretched. “Don’t be shy, we just wanna eat you, is all.”

“UH-UH!” With a burst of energy, Peewee shot into the air just before the purple dragon made a grab for him. He saw another dragon make a grab for him, so he whizzed over to the side, causing him to miss and grab the mop-headed dragon’s mop instead, which was apparently glued to his head. The little phoenix narrowly missed yet another dragon lunge for him, leading him to collapse onto the other two dragons. The purple dragon was royally steamed with a touch of garnish by this point, so he forgot the bird and a fight broke out between the trio, something that the other dragons found entertaining enough to distract them from the feathery treat fleeing the scene.

All, that is, except for one dragon. The red dragon had recovered enough from his pain to get moving again, and he was not pleased with being made a fool of. With an almighty roar that would have made Spike proud, he made a beeline for the fleeing phoenix. “EEP!” Peewee picked up the pace as much as he could, but he was no match for the flight speed of a rage-filled adolescent dragon. Just as the dragon’s wide-open maw was within reach, Peewee’s bowels failed him and he made his morning poop, a little later than usual. As luck would have it, though, the bird droppings went right down the dragon’s gullet, causing him to choke and fall to the ground. Peewee felt bad and considered trying to help him, but then he thought about how he tried to eat him, and he decided, Sorry, but I only help nice dragons, you mean meanie you! With that, Peewee left the mean dragons and continued on his way towards a very nice dragon who he’d be more than happy to help if he ever choked on bird poop. Because that’s what friends do.

The red dragon writhed and continued to choke, trying to dislodge the gross blockage in his throat, to no avail. He was saved by two other dragons who grabbed the still in pain Gronkle and dropped him on the red dragon’s stomach, causing him to upchuck the dropping, only for it to land right between his eyes. What a great way to start a morning.

“It’s a shame we couldn’t keep the little birdy as a pet or anything,” a white and pink dragon lamented. “I would have called it Tweety.”

“Shut up, Fizzle,” the red dragon growled.

After a few more minutes of aimless flying to make sure he had lost the dragons for good, Peewee stopped by a lake to catch his breath and guzzle down enough water to fill up his father. Wow, what a way to start a journey. I’ve been up less than an hour and I’ve already almost been eaten alive by dragons that act like punk teenagers. That…was SO COOL! No wonder Spike wants to adventure with his pony friends so much! I can’t wait to see what other exciting things will happen on my adventure! Maybe I’ll become a rock star! That’s what happens to people who go on epic journeys, right? Well, it definitely should be!

Peewee decided that surviving a deadly chase definitely called for some breakfast and fished around in his pockets for the berries he had saved for the occasion. Unfortunately, all he felt in there was berry goop. What the…aw, geez, that big brown dragon squished the berries when he was squeezing me, didn’t he? He should have been the one to eat my poop, not that red guy! With a groan, Peewee went to the lake to clean the goop out of his pockets. He normally didn’t mind being dirty, but having dirty stuff in his pockets just felt uncomfortable. Well, that and prickly stuff. That was especially uncomfortable.

He had just about finished cleaning out his pockets when he heard a splash nearby, not a big splash like Paulie makes when he cannonballs into the swimming hole back home, but not a really light splash like Priscilla makes when she gracefully flutters into the swimming hole and floats on the water like a swan (something she likes to brag about, especially to the cannonball-happy Paulie). Somewhere in the middle, he’d say. He turned and saw a red robin bathing on the shoreline next to him, rubbing water over her body in a way he might have described as sensual if he had any idea what the word “sensual” meant. Oh boy, it’s been a while since I’ve seen another bird that wasn’t a phoenix! I wonder if she’ll be my adventure buddy? “Hello there!” he said with an eager wave.

The robin, having been watching him out of the corner of her eye the whole time, turned her head slightly and said with feigned surprise, “Oh! Why, hello, cutie! Didn’t see you there.” Her voice was sweet and high-pitched, yet with a strong flirtatious undertone, like if Pinkie Pie and Rarity had their voices merged due to some sort of magical prank that won’t be discussed here.

“My name’s Peewee! I’m a phoenix!” he greeted in his usual cheery way.

“A phoenix, eh?” The robin hopped closer to Peewee and gave him a good, hard look. “How…exotic,” she said breathily. “My name’s Cresta, by the way.”

Peewee giggled at that. “Cresta, huh? That’s a funny name!”

Cresta knit her brow at that remark. That boy’s lucky he’s cute. “So, Peewee,” she continued, adding a goofy inflection to the phoenix’s name that made him giggle even harder. “What brings a cutie like you over to this neck of the woods?”

“Well,” Peewee explained, “I’m going on an epic journey to return to my caretaker Spike alllllll the way back in Ponyville! I’ve already fought off a bunch of dragons, and I haven’t even eaten breakfast yet! I guess that means I’m going to end up beating up every evil creature ever before I get home. Should be fun. You should come with me! We’ll have so much fun together!”

“Oh, I can just imagine,” Cresta purred as she leaned against Peewee’s cheek. “In fact…why don’t we do something fun right now?”

“Sure, that sounds great!” Peewee replied with a grin. “You wanna see who can swim across the lake the fastest?”

“Hmm…” Cresta paused in mock thought as she rubbed a wing on Peewee’s chest, something that also caused Peewee to giggle, as he had a serious case of the giggles that morning. “I was thinking something where we’d have a little more contact, if you catch my meaning.”

“Oh, I gotcha!” Peewee said excitedly. “You want to have a splash fight, right?”

“Not exactly,” she insisted, doing her best to avoid leaking any of her mounting frustration. “What I had in mind…” She put her wing to Peewee’s neck. “…involves a lot more fun…” She started running her wing down his torso. “…a lot more intimacy…” Lower and lower she went. “…and a lot more…” Her wing stopped just above his legs. “…heat.”

Peewee thought silently for a few seconds, trying to puzzle his way through the riddle she’d set up for him. Boy, she’s certainly not easy to play with! Finally, he decided to guess, “…You want to roast marshmallows?”

“AUGH!” Cresta burst out suddenly, her abrupt change in demeanor and volume startling Peewee enough to cause him to leap back and flop onto the water similarly to Gronkle, only a lot more gracefully. “How dense are you?!”

“Uh…” Geez, what is it with this girl and riddles?! “Well, I remember Twilight mentioning how to measure denseness, but I forget exactly what it was, it was so boring–”

“You stupid bird!” Cresta shouted as she went up to Peewee and violently grabbed him by the wings. “I want to mate with you, you dolt! Make love, make eggs, make the most adorable reddish-orange family the world has ever seen! Do you get it now, you birdbrain?!”

Peewee felt the color in his face drain as realization sunk in. “M…mate?!” he cried. “Uh…aren’t I a little young for that?!”

“Of course not, you adorable fool!” Cresta retorted in her earlier cutesy manner, which somehow creeped out Peewee even more than if she had continued yelling. “My mother always told me, ‘If he can fly, he’s good to go!’ Well, I’m good to go, honey.” She loomed over him and batted her eyes so quickly that hummingbirds would be jealous. “Are you?”

Peewee had a real dilemma to puzzle through this time. On one wing, a girl was interested in him! He didn’t expect that to happen so quickly! On the other wing, this was all happening a little fast! He had always thought he’d at least have a chance to go on a date with the girl of his dreams and impress her with his whistling and playing-his-belly-like-a-bongo abilities before he got to any of that mating stuff, which sounded gross from the way his father had told it. Fortunately, he was rescued from that dilemma by a loud and rough voice.

“Cresta?! What is the meaning of this?!” Both birds turned and saw another robin flying overhead: a male, judging by the voice. He looked similar to Cresta, except his head was darker and his chest was more puffed out, though Peewee couldn’t tell if that was natural or if he had sucked in some air to look bigger like Percival liked to do, especially when he was in an aggressive mood.

“Byron!” Cresta pushed herself away from Peewee and tried to look as sweet and innocent as she could, which is a little difficult to do when one has been coming on to someone with all the subtlety of a gaudily lit billboard in the middle of a quiet village. “It’s not what it looks like, darling! I was just playing a prank on the little guy, is all!”

“Oh, that was a prank?” Peewee said in relief as he rose to his feet. “Phew, you certainly had me fooled! Awesome job, Cresta!”

Cresta and Byron stared blankly at him for a few moments, before Byron cut in with, “Don’t give me that load of bird droppings, Cresta! I know you’ve been flirting with other birds behind my back! Why would you do this to me?!”

“Well, maybe I wouldn’t have to look for other birds if somebirdy would stop playing hard-to-get and mate with me already!” Cresta shot back, her demeanor turning back to aggressive in the blink of an eye, even a hummingbird’s eye.

“We’ve been over this before, Cresta,” Byron said in a weary tone. “I don’t want to mate until I’m certain I’m ready to start a family.”

“And I’ve told you,” Cresta retorted heatedly, “that we’ve been together for over a year now! You’ve had plenty of time to get certain! I’ve met snails that are faster to start a family than you!”

“Oh yes, because the Snail family is such a model family,” Byron replied mockingly (mockingbirdly?), “what with their children sliming everything they can reach and the mother having taken up salt!”

“Well, I don’t care!” Cresta squawked, her eyes full of malice. “I need somebirdy to satisfy me, and you’re clearly not up to the task!” She turned her head away from Byron and said sweetly, “Come on, Peewee, let’s show this clipped wing a thing or two about…”

Cresta stopped short as she realized that the little phoenix wasn’t in sight anymore.

“…Peewee?”

As Peewee hurriedly flew away, he remembered hearing about Spike and his pony friends sending letters to a princess named Celestia whenever they learned something. He never really understood the point of it, but he now felt that if he knew how to write, he’d have a lesson of his own to share with her.

“Dear Princess Celestia,” he wrote in his head. “Love is weird. Your faithful student, Peewee.”

End of Part 2

Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained

Why do these things keep happening to me?!

Peewee was flying frantically once again as a familiar threat pursued him. The red dragon from yesterday had caught up with him and was pursuing him relentlessly, growling and shouting vulgar insults like “lame-o!” and “unradical!” all the while. The little phoenix was only able to dodge him at first by weaving around the trees and tree branches, things that the dragon wasn’t too fond of. Even then, the distance was always close, and Peewee wouldn’t have the energy to flee for much longer.

I really need a place to hide, Peewee thought as he barely avoided the dragon’s jaws and his jeer of “dork!”. Think, brain, where’s the best place to hide in a forest?

I dunno, his brain replied, inside a tree, maybe?

Peewee gasped as revelation smacked him upside the head. Of course! No one ever suspects the trees! It’s perfect! Fortunately for him, he noticed a small, inconspicuous hollow close by, so he flashed brightly for a second and, while the dragon was dazed and regretting not bringing his cool sunglasses with him, slipped and snuggled inside the hollow. Yes! I’m a genius!

Unfortunately, Peewee didn’t have the luxury of getting to chill his flame-filled birdy body with rest and relaxation, because the dragon then decided to do what dragons do best and just set everything on fire. Including the trees. Including the tree Peewee was in. Including Peewee. Almost.

HOT! The little bird shot out of the tree with impressive bullet-like speed as he desperately tried to find another safe haven, but to no avail; the whole forest was ablaze and the dragon was right behind him. It looked like this was the end for Peewee, at least to those who didn’t notice the size of the chapter.

Wait a minute! Peewee decided. I’m sick of fleeing from this guy! He needs to know what it feels like! It’s time to FIGHT BACK! With that, there was a brilliant flash, and Peewee was gone once again.

“Dweeb-o chicken!” the red dragon bellowed in frustration.

“Up here, you…dragon, you!” The dragon looked up and saw Peewee in a fighter jet as he fired a missile directly at him. “Time to go boom boom!”

BOOM! Direct hit!

“Yay! I won!” Peewee cheered as he turned the jet homeward. “And I can go home a lot faster with this thing! This day just got a lot better!”

BOOM! Direct hit on Peewee’s backside!

“CHEEP! Or not…”

Peewee turned and saw with alarm that the red dragon had gotten a fighter jet somehow and was now hot on his tail. “Egg sucker!” the dragon jeered, another missile heading toward the phoenix’s aircraft to punctuate his insult.

Fortunately, Peewee was ready this time and responded with a maneuver so ingenious that he could only have gotten it from video games: a somersault. His jet dodged the missile, he felt the thrill and dizziness of being upside down, and he ended up right behind the incredulous dragon’s jet, the perfect position for him to stuff missiles up his tail pipes. “Time for your daily dose of, uh, blowing up!” Peewee cawed as he mashed the missile button like a particularly hard potato, his whole missile load unloading onto the jet in front of him.

BOOM COMBO! The missiles were super effective!

“Woohoo! High score!” Peewee celebrated the best way he knew how: doing a bunch of barrel rolls while whistling the song in his head. Sadly, he couldn’t celebrate for long, as the constant spinning made Peewee feel sick to his stomach. Luckily, the jet had barf bags, so the chick was able to puke his guts out without having to muck up his sweet ride. Not so luckily, he discovered too late that he was headed right for a particularly big tree that had somehow managed to not burn to smithereens.

Hmm, I wonder what crashing’s like, Peewee thought to himself as he screamed like a girl many times his size.

YET ANOTHER BOOM! Well, the tree was certainly burning now. Luckily again, Peewee wasn’t hurt too badly, thanks to his former jet’s state-of-the-art airbags. Huh, that wasn’t so bad, Peewee decided as he lied in the wreckage. Maybe I should wear a helmet next time I fly a jet, though. Ooh, maybe I could wear a helmet that looks like Spike’s head! Then Spike could wear a helmet that looks like my head and it’ll look like we switched heads! It’ll be the coolest thing ever!

Peewee’s thoughts were rudely interrupted, though, by the sound of something large, unfriendly, and full of teenage lingo approaching. The little phoenix looked up and saw an enormous aircraft shaped like the red dragon’s head looming over him.

“Oh, come on!” Peewee screeched in frustration. “How am I supposed to top that?!”

As if to answer his question, a bright beam came from nowhere and struck the draconic faceship, creating a massive explosion that spread over the whole forest and somehow put out all the fires. Because, as everyone knows, explosions fix everything!

Peewee stared blankly, his beak agape. “Wow…did I do that?! I AM AWESOME!”

“Actually, that would be me,” another voice corrected.

“Oh, hello, voice from nowhere!” Peewee greeted casually. “Are you all powerful?”

“In this realm, I am.” The source of the voice then revealed herself with a swirl of magic, turning out to be a tall, midnight blue pony with wings, a horn, and a mane that looked like the night sky if it was contained in a satin curtain that was always billowing in a constant wind that didn’t seem to have any source.

“Wow, you’re a pony?!” Peewee burst out. “And you’re actually listening to me?! Finally, somepony with manners!”

“I am Princess Luna, young phoenix,” the pony introduced herself in a regal tone, “and I can understand you because I am visiting your dream.”

“Wait a second,” Peewee said. “The dream thing I can buy, but someone else visiting it? That doesn’t sound right.”

“Oh, but it is right,” Luna told him with an air of wisdom that takes a millennium of being trapped inside a celestial body to cultivate. “As princess of the night, it is my duty to watch over the dreams of all creatures and help those in need. That is why I am here tonight, so I can tell you–”

“Wait another second,” Peewee interrupted. “If I’m dreaming, I could just be dreaming you, and you’re not visiting my dream after all.”

“That is not the case,” Luna insisted. “As I was saying–”

“I mean, there’s no real way to prove you’re a dream visitor, is there?” Peewee insisted back.

“It does not matter either way,” Luna pressed, impatience seeping into her voice. “What matters is–”

“Also, how’s your hair doing that starry waving thing?”

“Would you kindly let your princess finish speaking?!” Luna bellowed with a volume that vibrated Peewee’s body almost hard enough to dislocate his feathers. Upon seeing the little phoenix shaking, she took a deep sigh to steady her nerves, and then continued, “Now, as I was saying, I have visited you tonight to tell you–”

“Hey, I just noticed, your butt’s all inky!” Peewee pointed out. “What’s up with that?”

Luna gave the innocent chick a look that would have frozen him solid if he didn’t have an inner fire. “You know what, forget it,” she decided. “Figure it out on your own.” With that she turned and started to fly off into the distance.

“Wait, figure what out?” Peewee called to the fleeing princess. “Is this a brain teaser? Cause my brain doesn’t like those!”

“It is too late to beseech my wisdom!” Luna shouted back as the world around them started to swirl and fall apart. “That’s the last time I visit an animal’s dream,” she added under her breath.

Peewee awoke with a metaphorical jolt and a non-metaphorical squawk. The moon was gone, but the sun had yet to peak over the horizon, meaning it was still early enough to get his morning worm. Also, nothing was on fire, which was always a nice bonus.

Huh, that was an interesting dream, Peewee reflected as he searched for a worm to chow down on. Was that princess really visiting my dream, or did my brain just make that up? I wonder if I’ll ever see her when I’m awake.

Wendell was a worm with a dream: to crawl to the top of the tallest tree in the forest and crawl back down to his home, all in one day. He’d had plenty of practice with other trees, but now he was ready to go for the big one! He had already gotten an early start and was now at the base of the tree in question, which looked a lot taller up close. The tree’s towering height daunted the plucky worm, but he wasn’t one to give up so easily, especially not after all the training he’d gotten. He was going to scale this wooden colossus, and nothing was going to stop him!

…Well, except for a hungry phoenix. Such is life.

Eh, maybe it’s better if she’s imaginary, Peewee decided as the hapless worm travelled down his gullet. She wasn't very well mannered for a princess, anyway.

End of Part 4

Into Unfriendly Territory

As Peewee flew on through the colorful yet slightly monotonous wilderness, he went over the adventure he’d had so far in his head (meaning that he was thinking about the adventure that had actually happened, not that the adventure had only happened in his head…although that would be a fun and original twist).

Hmm, let’s see…daring escape from a bunch of evil monsters: check!

Escaping temptation from a pretty lady: check!

Doing a helpful favor for somebirdy: uh…

Anyway! I’ve gone through most of what every great adventure needs, but something’s still missing. I can’t quite put my wing on what it is, but I know I still need something for my adventure to be complete. Come on, think! What could it be?

“AH!” a voice cried out. “Those damned wolves!”

Peewee gasped. Of course! Saving the day from more evil monsters! No adventure is complete without it! This is the perfect chance to redeem myself! With that, he took off in the direction of the voice, or at least the direction in which the voice had been, since, of course, the voice wasn’t there anymore. Such is the nature of sound.

“I’m sick of this!” The owner of the (rather unremarkable) voice came into view: a red fox pacing in front of a hole on the side of a hill. “Who do those timberwolves think they are, anyway?!”

“You know, that’s a good question,” a sandy blond fox sitting beside him said. “Do you think timberwolves ever imagine themselves as other creatures? I know I do. Hey, you remember the time I pretended I was an anteater? Those ants were surprisingly tasty…”

“Elloy!” the red fox snapped. “Do you think you could save your silliness for when our den isn’t ruined?!”

“Sorry, Copper,” Elloy whimpered. “Just trying to lighten the mood, geez…”

“Maybe I can help!” Peewee chimed in as he fluttered on up to the surprised foxes.

“You mean help lighten the mood or help fix our den?” Elloy asked.

Copper gave the weary sigh of a guy who knows he’s the only sensible creature in the entire universe and said, “No, Elloy, the correct question would be, ‘who are you?’”

“Me?” Peewee responded in the best impression of his father’s dramatic tone he could muster. “I am the one that fate has sent to restore harmony to the world! I am the blazing bird of justice, the flying freedom fighter, the awesomely adorable…”

“Your name, peewee?” Copper cut in impatiently.

Peewee gasped in a suitably dramatic manner. “How did you know?!”

“Know wha…ugh, forget it,” Copper groaned. “What do you want?”

“Oh, I’m here to take care of those timberwolves you mentioned!” Peewee said with a cheerful grin.

The two foxes couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the wonderful joke the chick was gracious enough to give them. “A little bird’s gonna fight some wolves?” Copper choked out. “What’s he gonna do, sing them to death?”

“Haha, maybe he’s got a bomb hidden in his butt or something!” Elloy wondered.

“Better than that!” Peewee said obliviously. “I’ve got…FIRE!” On the word “fire,” he spit out a small fireball that landed on a nearby bush and set it ablaze. The foxes were silenced by this surprise development.

“Wh-what kind of demon bird are you?!” Copper stammered as he hid behind his more mesmerized foxy comrade.

Peewee stared at the foxes like they were aliens who were wearing fox suits, which was a surprising popular pastime for them. “What’s up with you guys?” he asked them. “Haven’t you ever seen a phoenix before?”

“Whoa, a phoenix?!” Elloy gasped. “I’ve never met one of those before! What’s it like being a phoenix?”

“Oh, it’s the best!” Peewee replied cheerily. “Why, just the other day…”

“Excuse me. Guys?” Copper cut in. “Do you think we could get back to the timberwolves? You know, the ones that wrecked our den?”

“Oh, right!” Peewee realized. “So why’d those timberwolves target you, anyway?”

With another weary sigh, albeit one of weariness over a bitter nemesis rather than over annoying silliness, Copper explained, “Those wolves have been nothing but trouble for us ever since we accidentally snapped a twig that belonged to one of them. They’ve been taking our food and spoiling our water–”

“And they tore up my flower sculptures!” Elloy added with a tearful sniffle.

“Exactly!” Copper punctuated with a stomp of his paw. “We’ve been terrorized by those monsters for who-knows-how-long-because-we-suck-at-telling-time, but we can’t hurt them back because they’d tear us to shreds! But now that we have a little friend with the power of fire,” he added with an eager grin, “they’ll finally know the pain we feel!”

“Yeah!” Elloy cheered. “Except, well, none of our pain involved getting set on fire, at least not any of our timberwolf-related pain…”

“Dang it, Elloy, why do you always gotta ruin the mood with your diversions?” Copper groaned.

“I was just saying…” Elloy weakly protested.

“Don’t worry, my foxy friends!” Peewee assured them as he did a salute while still flying in midair, something every brave bird should know how to do. “I promise to do everything I can to teach those big bad wolves a thing or do about what happens when they bully others! And then we can go on a picnic together!”

“Uh…sure, why not?” Copper said with a nonplussed stare.

“Yay!” Peewee whooped. “Here I go to save the day!” With that, he took off into the distance, whistling his heroic theme…only to come back and ask, “Where do the timberwolves live again?”

Another weary sigh of the first kind from Copper. “You go up to the rock on top of that hill, take a left, keep going until you get to the tree that looks like a bear doing a tap dance, take a right, and it’s just inside the area where the forest gets all dark and spooky.”

“Kay, thanks!” Peewee said, trying to regain his heroic dignity. “Now, here I go to save the day!” He took off into the distance again, though at least it was the right distance this time. After a quick trek down the path that the directions provided (while stopping briefly to admire the technique of the bear tree), he noticed that he was upon an area where light barely shone through the tree tops and there was an unmistakable aura of dread and decay. Perfect!

He felt his confidence and excitement plummet upon hearing a telltale growl not too far away, yet still far away enough that he could tell that the wolf wasn’t within chomp-him-down reach, meaning his confidence still had a tether that would let it bounce back shortly; kind of like when people go bungee jumping, only it’s just a metaphor and there’s no actual cable or anything. Oh dear, I almost forgot about the possibility of getting eaten…but wait, I can still spit fire! Wolves aren’t nearly as scary to a fire breather when they’re made of wood! I bet Spike torched like a hundred timberwolves during his hero training while I was away! I wonder if he collects the ashes of his fallen foes as trophies or something. Too bad my pockets are too small to hold that many ashes…

And then, there they are, in a shady clearing right in front of him. Six bundles of twigs arranged to look like (and possessing the mindset of) wolves with glowing yellow eyes were standing or lying there, most of whom were eating or napping, along with one wolf who was fiddling with a crown of flowers on its head. Alright, the time for my big hero moment has come at last! As he flew up to the clearing, he took a deep breath and gave a mighty whistle that he planned to have as his heroic signal. Whenever any creature heard this whistle, they knew they were about to be hero-ed! …Or something.

The wolves snapped to attention and turned toward the little phoenix who had perched on a high-up branch and was now posing with his chest puffed out like he’d seen his father do many times in the past.

“Uh…hello, little birdy,” a timberwolf said uncertainly.

“Don’t try to sweet-talk me, villain!” Peewee retorted. “You will pay for the crimes you have committed!”

“Excuse me?” another wolf puzzled. “Who are you?”

“I am none other than the great shining hope of the skies!” Peewee called out as though he were auditioning for the most important theatrical performance in all of ever. “I am the son of wind, the child of spirit, the best friend of cuteness! When you dream about doing bad things, there I am, watching you like a–”

“What is with this guy?!” a third timberwolf growled in exasperation.

“Maybe his egg was half-baked?” the wolf with the flower crown suggested.

“Hey, don’t you know it’s rude to interrupt dramatic speeches?” Peewee scolded. “Now, I’m going to give you a chance to apologize before I do hero things to you!”

The first wolf made a strange sound that was like a mix between a growl and a groan, a sound that few creatures had heard in their lives, since it’s rare for someone to annoy a timberwolf without getting eaten. “Leave us alone, you runt! Go play your games with someone who cares!”

“Who are you calling a runt?” Peewee snapped back. “Let’s see if you think this is still a game after…THIS!” With that, he shot a fireball at the timberwolf and hit him right between the eyes. Yes! Bull’s eye! Or…timberwolf’s eye, I guess!

The ignited timberwolf screamed in a manner unbefitting a vicious predator made of wood and ran around in a panic, dragging his face across the ground in an effort to put out the unfriendly flames. The other wolves stared in horror, either at their fellow packmate in pain or at the hellspawn that could summon fire from his body. Peewee stared at the scene occurring before him, feeling his sense of heroism dwindle. That’s strange; I thought defeating bad guys was supposed to feel better than this. What am I doing wrong?

Just then, the timberwolf with the flower crown scooped up some dirt with his front paws, ran up awkwardly on his back legs to the wolf who was frantically beating at the flames still on his face, and threw the pile of dirt on his comrade’s face, snuffing out the enemy embers but also spilling dirt into his eyeholes.

“GAH! My eyes!” the first wolf cried out.

“See, Douglas?” the flower crown wolf said with a beam. “I told you that dirt would save your life someday!”

“What kind of monster would just set a guy on fire like that?!” another wolf burst out.

“Yeah, seriously, why would you do something so horrible?!” the charred wolf demanded. “And could someone please get me some eye drops?!”

Peewee felt himself growing smaller and smaller under the angry and horrified gazes of the enemy timberwolf pack, until he felt he could have been eaten by an ant if metaphors have effects on the literal body. “B-but…you’re the bad guys!” he stammered. “I’m punishing you for bullying Copper and Elloy!”

The atmosphere took a turn for the menacing at the mention of those names. “So, those two sent you, did they?” a timberwolf snarled with menace dripping down the sides of his mouth like figurative rabies. “Figures they’d send someone clueless to do their dirty work.”

“Dirty work?” Peewee asked, feeling a whole lot muddier than he used to.

“Yeah, those foxes you were trying to be a “hero” for?” Douglas said as the flower crown wolf poured eye drops in his eyes that he had gotten from wherever. “They’re not the innocent victims you think they are.”

“What are you talking about?” Peewee demanded, his bravado starting to return to him. “You messed up their den and ruined their flower sculptures, didn’t you?”

“Not all of them; some of them were so nice, I just couldn’t let them go to waste!” the wolf with the flower crown said proudly as he gestured to a gap in the trees that showed a small menagerie of little flower animals in mid-frolicking poses.

“They were the ones who attacked first!” the menace-filled timberwolf shouted with a stomp, startling the flower crown wolf enough to make him stumble to the ground. “They came along and harassed us to no end! They would ruin our hunts by shouting where we were hiding and tripping us while we chased fleeing prey, they would spread rumors about us that drove away any possible mates, and just when I thought they couldn’t go any lower…” His eyes became filled with tears at this point. “…They snapped off my winky!”

A hush fell over the clearing like a gloomy raincloud placed by a prankster pegasus with nothing better to do with their time. Peewee stared blankly as the implications of what had just been revealed sunk in. I…I helped bad guys? The timberwolves were innocent? They have wooden winkies? But…but…

“I…I…I’m sorry!” the phoenix wailed. “I’m so sorry!” Unable to bear being in their presence any longer, he fled from the falsely accused pack, leaving behind a trail of tears that glimmered like innocence lost or something along those lines.

It’s official: I’m the worst hero ever.

Silence reigned over the timberwolf pack, oppressively and arrogantly, until it was overthrown by the inspired voice of Bushy Tail, the flower-loving timberwolf. “I just got an idea!” He quickly ran over to the puddle of tears that had accumulated beneath the accursed phoenix’s perch, dipped his paw in it, and gave an experimental lick. Wow, it tastes like magical deliciousness! “Hey Elmer, come over here a sec!”

The winky-less wolf trudged over to the overeager flower crown bearer. “What is it?” he asked flatly.

“My mom once told me that phoenix tears have magical powers!” Bushy explained as he scooped up some of the puddle before him. “It may be a long shot, but perhaps…”

Without warning, he pressed his teary paws against Elmer’s groin, causing him to yelp and smack Bushy upside the head. “What is the matter with you?!” Elmer snapped. “You don’t just touch a wolf there without…” He stopped short as he felt a strange sensation where he had been drenched. He could feel something familiar grow there with renewed energy and splendor. “H-hey! My winky’s back! You fixed it!” With a grin, he embraced the flower-adorned wolf and gave a mighty howl, one that inspired his brethren to join in and create a melody that hadn’t filled the forest in ages.

“It’s so great to have you back, buddy!” Bushy Tail cheered as he nuzzled his reendowed companion. “How should we celebrate?”

“I know just how to mark this occasion,” Elmer answered with a devious grin. “By ending those foul foxes’ reign of terror once and for all!”

The six wolves cheered and sprinted with renewed vigor, the scents of their nemeses filling their nostrils. The king is back, baby!

End of Part 5

So Close, Yet So Far Away

Peewee trudged on listlessly for the next several hours. The adventure continued, but Peewee’s heart was no longer in it; his heart was too busy sulking in the corner and waxing poetic on how much of an idiot it was. His brain was no more reassuring, as it constantly replayed the events and kept thinking of possible scenarios that would have avoided disaster and possibly gotten everyone to be friends. Even the adventure-happy tick in his earhole wasn’t able to help, as it had lost its voice and was now taking up mime. So engrossed was the young phoenix in his state of apathy that he didn’t even notice a blackbird almost crash into him mid-flight until it squawked in alarm and swerved just in the nick of time.

“Hey, what’s the matter with you?!” the blackbird screeched. “Are you a total idiot?!”

“Mm-hmm,” Peewee answered expressionlessly, still flying forward.

The response threw the blackbird for a loop, causing him to stammer, “Ye–we–uh–well, stop being one then!”

Yeah, that’s a great idea, Peewee’s brain chided. Stop being an idiot. Is that really so hard? I mean, that is what you have a brain for, isn’t it? To do that thinking thing that tends to be useful some–

SHUT UP, BRAIN! Peewee screamed internally. YOU’RE NOT HELPING!

I’d love to help, his heart chimed in, but I’d just make things worse like I always–

SHUT UP, THE BOTH OF YOU! Peewee snapped. I JUST WANT TO BE ALONE RIGHT NOW!

Peewee’s brain and heart both went silent at this non-verbal outburst.

Wow, what a meanie, his heart griped.

Eh, he’ll calm down, his brain stated matter-of-factly. He’s just hormonal at the moment.

I can still hear you guys, you know, Peewee responded flatly.

You know, his brain replied, the fact that you’re talking with your brain and your heart like they’re separate entities is a possible indicator of schizophrenia–

Lalalala, I can’t hear you, lalalala! Peewee sung, putting his feathers in his earholes even though that wouldn’t affect internal hearing. Also, he couldn’t fly while doing that, which didn’t exactly help matters. Oops.

THUD!

Idiot, his brain and heart echoed in unison.

I know… Peewee thought weakly.

The sun was now close to the horizon, but Peewee’s mood was no closer to improving. He didn’t even know if he’d have the enthusiasm to give Spike a hug when he saw him. He’d still be happy to see him, of course; he’d just prefer to just go to bed, because, you know, failures don’t deserve to be awake. Or hug. Spike doesn’t deserve a failure like me…

Eventually, he stopped to take a drink from a nearby bog because his throat didn’t care about any of the drama going on and just wanted some liquid to keep it from becoming a dry husk. Alas, the water wasn’t very quenching, due to it being full of mud and animal waste. Peewee’s throat was complaining as loudly as a throat could, but the bird himself didn’t respond to it, too sunk in his swampy apathy to care about not becoming a swamp. He just sat down by the shore with a sigh; he may well have stayed there for all eternity, until mud accumulated around him and solidified, resulting in the creation of the world’s cutest mud statue, were it not for what happened next.

The bog started to ripple, and something started to rise from the depths. Four somethings, actually. Well, actually actually, it was just one something, but it looked like four somethings at the top–oh forget it. It was the hydra of Froggy Bottom Bog, and it was not pleased to see an intruder upon its waters. With a quartet of deep breaths, they let loose a mighty “ROAR!”

Peewee didn’t even flinch at the hydra’s fearsome display, instead responding with a heavy sigh.

The four heads of the hydra stared silently at Peewee’s lack of reaction, looked at each other in confusion, then decided to try the roar again, but better and in his face. “ROAR!”

Still nothing.

“Why isn’t he screaming and fleeing in terror?” the leftmost head on Peewee’s side asked his fellow heads.

“Maybe he’s blind and deaf?” the second head from the left suggested.

“Or maybe his tastes in scares are rather unusual,” the rightmost head offered. “Let’s see if this gets a reaction: Hey, little birdy! Imagine us wearing a thong right now! How do you feel about that?”

“Mick, shut up!” the third head from the right growled. “That is exactly what’s preventing us from becoming the terror of Everfree Forest!”

“Us?!” Mick retorted. “I don’t recall you deciding that we all wanted exactly what you want, Prescott.”

“I told you never to call me that?!” the third head bellowed in a roar that could be best described as “trying way too hard to be demonic." “You will address me as Axer!”

“Dude, I keep telling you, Axer is not a scary name,” the first head cut in.

“Oh, and I suppose Hardy is so much scarier, is it?” Axer shot back.

“Hey, Hardy’s clever! It’s an anagram!” Hardy said haughtily. “Where’d you get Axer from, anyway? Some reject death metal cover?”

Axer responded by snapping his jaws at Hardy’s neck, provoking him to snap back and engage in a game of Hungry Hungry Hydras, except the hydras were competing to chomp on each others’ necks instead of white balls or whatever hydras eat. The second head, tired of ducking down and being the middleman, lunged with one fluid motion and managed to clamp down on both of the others’ jaws at once.

“Enough!” the second head growled as best as he could with hydra mouths in his mouth. “I’m sick of you two always fighting! Do you have any idea what it’s like sharing a body with two heads that are literally at each others’ necks?!”

“I have an idea…” Mick muttered.

“Shut up, Mick!” the other three heads snapped at the same time, as though, for once, they shared a brain.

“Wow…” The heads turned their attention to Peewee, who had finally snapped out of his stupor and was staring at them, beak agape. “That was amazing! How did you do that so fast?! You’re like a ninja or something! Except, you know, not as sneaky.”

“Sure, that gets his attention…” Hardy muttered under his breath.

The second head gave a soft hiss at Hardy, then turned to the diminutive bird beneath him and said, “Well, you know, when you’re trapped between two knuckleheads that that just love to give each other a hard time, you kinda have to learn how to deal with them, ya know?”

“Well, I’ve never had more than one head, so, uh, not really,” Peewee responded, looking around his shoulders to make sure he’d hadn’t sprouted any heads while he wasn’t looking, something that happens more often than you’d think. “My name’s Peewee, by the way. What’s yours?”

“Peewee, huh? Fitting name for a runt like you,” the second head teased, eliciting a giggle from Peewee, mainly because he thought the word “runt” sounded cute. “As for me, I go by Draymond. This is Hardy to my right, Pres–” He was interrupted by a growl from his left. “Ugh, Axer to my left, and over at the other end is Mick.”

“Yeah yeah, we’re all introduced and stuff, goody goody,” Hardy said with a roll of his eyes. “Can we get back to eating that bird? It’s been too long since I’ve had anything filling!”

“Is that really all you guys can think about? Scaring and eating innocent creatures?” Mick chastised with the best “woe is me” expression a hydra could muster. “Why does no one ever consider what I desire?”

“Mick, we’ve been over this before,” Draymond said flatly. “You can’t be a fashion designer. The fashion industry just won’t let a big, scary hydra make clothes for ponies.”

“Not to mention, you know, no arms,” Hardy added, his head gesturing to the closest side of their body, which was, sadly, limbless.

“You see? This is exactly the sort of attitude that’s preventing me from achieving my dreams!” Mick cried out. “Why can’t you guys support me instead of shooting me down every chance you get?”

“Maybe if your dreams didn’t involve you being such a pansy,” Axer retaliated, “then you might get more support!”

“You know what I desire?” Draymond growled, his brow knit tightly enough to resemble a cool scar. “To be a head on a hydra that isn’t surrounded by heads that are always attacking each other in some way! Is that really so much to ask?”

“Probably,” Hardy stated bluntly, prompting Draymond to give him a long look, long enough for him to see the other side of Equestria if he had thought to do so.

“Wow, it really seems like you heads aren’t happy being part of the same body,” Peewee said with a sigh, his bad mood from earlier settling back in like an unwelcome fog after a brief sunny spell. “I wish I could help you guys, but I’d probably just mess everything up like I always do…”

“What exactly could a morsel like yourself do to help, anyway?” Hardy asked with a mocking laugh. “Wave a magic wand and split us into four different bodies?”

Suddenly, a lightbulb flashed in Peewee’s head, but thankfully it was only a metaphorical one, or he could have gotten brain damage from it, which isn’t as fun as it sounds. “No, but I know someone who could!” Peewee exclaimed with a warm burst of sunny disposition. “Well, except for the magic wand part.”

“Really?” Axer axed excitedly. “You know dark spirits that I could make a blood pact with?!”

“Uh, no,” Peewee replied, causing Axer to droop noticeably. “But I do know an incredibly powerful unicorn named Twilight Sparkle! She’s not a lot of fun, but she knows all sorts of magic, and I’m sure there’s a spell of hers that can split you into different bodies so you could be free to do whatever you like! Maybe she could even give you arms!”

“Ugh,” Axer groaned. “A pretty little pony fixing us? I’d rather stay next to this pansy all my life.”

“Hush, you!” Mick cried. “I finally have a chance to make it big for myself, and I won’t let you ruin it!”

“So, to be clear, does everyone want to separate from each other?” Draymond asked.

“You kidding?” Hardy cut in with a grin. “It’s too much fun messing with you guys! I wouldn’t trade that for the world!”

Draymond gave a long, drawn-out sigh, one that managed to last for several minutes, thanks to three other esophagi bringing air intake into their shared lungs. Just when Peewee and the other heads were getting antsy and about to break the silence, Draymond did it himself. “I’m going to miss being able to do that. Very well, lead the way, runt.”

“Yay!” Peewee cheered. “Finally, I can actually be helpful!”

“Wait, wait, there’s one last thing I want us to do while we’re still together,” Axer interjected.

Suppressing the urge to do another very long sigh, Draymond asked patiently, “And what might that be?”

“Do you think we could chase him down while he leads us?” Axer requested. “You know, just to have one, last, predatory, fear-inducing chase before we go our separate ways?”

“Oh, yes, those were the best!” Hardy chimed in, his eyes glazing over like lizard-flavored donuts as his mind traveled down memory lane, all while wearing a top hat and twirling a cane with a new set of reptilian arms. That, and viciously hunting down prey of times past. That is indeed the best way to reminisce.

“I admit, it would be nice to do it one more time,” Mick said with a small, guilty smile, “just to get the last of my predatory nature out of my system.”

“Or exacerbate it,” Hardy added under his breath.

“Shh!” Draymond hissed with all the subtlety of a giant snake trying to sell shoes before turning to Peewee. “Well, what do you say, little birdy? Care to indulge us in a little predator versus prey action before we split?”

Peewee was silent for a few moments, weighing the situation in his head. His mental scales were rather squeaky, so it was a little hard to concentrate, but he managed to get a good picture of the situation in the end. “So, just to be clear,” he asked, “you want me to lead the way to Twilight, but you want to follow me the way you normally follow your prey, just for fun?”

“Mhm!” all four heads said with a simultaneous nod.

“Well, if it’ll make you guys happy, sure!” Peewee said eagerly.

“Aw yeah!” Axer roared with rip-roaring uproariousness. Roar. “Prepare to die, puny creature!”

“Uh, Axer?” Mick cut in. “You do know we’re not actually going to…”

But Axer didn’t pay his words any heed; he just gave out an almighty roar. The other heads shrugged as best as one can with only a neck and head and joined in the roar. Peewee took that as the signal to start, which, luckily for the clever bird, it was, and the chase was on! The hydra moved at an impressive rate for a large, armless lizard with stumpy legs, but Peewee could also move quite fast for a little phoenix with stubby wings. All in all, it was a race of improbability.

Peewee flew at just the right pace to keep an even pace with the pursuing hydra, feeling the wind and adrenaline course through him and fight for dominance. Wow, being a rampaging hydra’s prey is so much fun! If it weren’t for that whole “prey getting eaten” thing, I bet more animals would do it more often! …Wait, where am I going?

“Uh, excuse me?” Peewee shouted in between hydra roars. “Is there a town called Ponyville anywhere near here?”

“If by ‘town’ you mean ‘collection of structures that aren’t trees and stuff’, then yes, it should be right over the next hill!” Draymond called back.

“Okay, thanks!” Peewee responded, turning just in time to look over the hill and see some familiar buildings peeking over like a game of peek-a-boo, if buildings were interested in playing games like that. Woohoo! I’m almost home! Finally! It’s been far too long since Spike and I hugged each other! I can’t wait to tell Spike all about the incredible adventure I’ve had! Maybe I could write a novel about it! I wonder what I would call it…once I learn how to write, of course. …Hey, where’d the sun go?

Peewee looked up in an attempt to locate the missing sun, only to be greeted by a gaping maw falling towards him. Apparently the hydra, being so focused on the young phoenix, had failed to spot a rock lying in the middle of the path at just the right spot to trip them up and cause Hardy’s head to fall in just the right path for his mouth to trap Peewee before he could get out of the way. Don’t you just hate when that happens?

And then everyone went “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

CHOMP!

“Ow…” The mighty hydra now lay on the ground like a turtle and/or tortoise on its back. “Are you guys alright?” Draymond asked.

“The only thing injured is my dignity,” Axer groaned.

“Not me,” Mick lamented. “I think my head landed on a pointy pebble or something, because my chin stings like crazy!”

“Ah, bah-hah!” The other heads turned and saw that Hardy’s jaw was now embedded in the ground, making him look like he was trying to take a huge bite of dirt that his jaw wasn’t able to take, which is the leading cause of hydra orthodontist appointments. “Dun tak ta mah abaht pan!”

“You kept facing the ground with your mouth open while you fell?!” Draymond asked in disbelief.

“Hay, dun judge mah!” Hardy snapped back with a wince.

“Hey, where’d that bird go?” Mick chimed in as he scraped his chin on the ground in an attempt to dislodge the pebble that was trapped there, unwittingly getting several more pebbles stuck there in the process. “Gyah!”

“I’m right here!” Peewee poked his head out from between Hardy’s outstretched jaws. “Lucky I was in just the right spot to avoid getting stabbed by any of those sharp teeth, huh?”

“Yeah, et a leedah earacle,” Hardy growled, his tongue lashing at the young phoenix, who yelped and then giggled with each hit like it was just a game of rolled-up-towel-whipping, something he and Spike liked to do after their shared baths. Being whipped by a towel many times his size numerous times had given him incredible resistance to whips softer than he was.

“Hey Peewee, care to help us out here?” Draymond requested. “If you could help get Hardy unstuck, then maybe we could get back up and avoid becoming roadkill.”

“Don’t you need to be on a road to become roadkill?” Peewee asked.

“Whatever!” Draymond snapped, his patience running as thin as hay outside of a haystack. “Just get to it!”

“Alright, alright!” Peewee cried out. “Geez, just because you’re stuck to the ground doesn’t mean you have to be such a grump about it!” He examined the dirt inside of Hardy’s mouth and started digging at the dirt around his teeth, only to get bored rather quickly and decide to speed things up by jabbing Hardy’s tongue with his beak, causing the hapless hydra head to scream in pain and rise out of the ground like a bullet attached to a tetherball pole.

“Whoa!” Axer exclaimed. “That bird’s got some real kick for such a little guy!”

“Come on, let’s try and get up now!” Draymond commanded. With that, the three heads not named Hardy pushed against the ground with enough force to get their body upright.

“Yes!” Axer roared cheerily (roaring was his go-to reaction to just about anything; he had even perfected over a dozen distinctive roars for just about any occasion). “I knew my recommended daily regiment of push-ups would save us someday!”

“Owowowow!” Mick yelped. “I think I’ve got a permanent pebble beard now! Hmm…I wonder what would accessorize well with that?”

“Will you shut up about your stupid stuff?!” Hardy shouted. “The stupid bird pecked my tongue! Look!” He stuck out his previously flawless tongue, revealing a pin-sized hole that Peewee had managed to make. “My perfect tongue, ruined!”

“Ruined?!” Axer retorted with another roar (roartorted?). “Are you nuts?! It’s freakin' badass! That piercing really adds to your intimidation factor! Just imagine how much fear it’ll strike into the hearts of your prey when they see it!”

“Oh yeah, because getting your tongue pecked out by a runt of a bird is the definition of badassery!” Hardy said with sarcasm thick enough to smother his fellow heads with metaphorical fog.

“Hey, speaking of which,” Draymond cut in with his patented metaphor-slicer voice, “where is Peewee now? He hasn’t said a word since…” Silence struck like a ninja in the night, except it was daytime. “Hardy,” he said slowly as he faced him with an “I-know-where-this-is-going” look, “please tell me you didn’t eat the bird that knew where to find the pony that could let us live separate lives.”

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t,” Hardy replied with slime dripping from his voice like a slug mixed with a dragon. “Maybe he burned a bit when going down my throat, but maybe he was tasty enough to make it worth it. Or maybe not.”

“You imbecile!” Mick got in Hardy’s face with a harsh glare, which was pretty impressive considering they were the farthest way from each other. “You ruined my chance to make a name for myself apart from being a scary beast!”

“Implying that’s a bad thing,” Axer grumbled.

“Hey, that bird poked a hole in my tongue!” Hardy shot back. “And it freaking hurt! The runt had it coming!”

“Yeah, but if he hadn’t done that, your jaw might still be trapped in the ground!” Mick pointed out. “How’s that for gratitude?!”

“Uh…eh…well…my tongue has a hole in it!” Hardy stammered. “That’s just unforgivable!”

“Guys, knock it off!” Draymond shouted, forcing his head between theirs. “What’s done is done, alright? Let’s just try and find this unicorn ourselves. I mean, how hard could it be?”

“Well, we’ll certainly get her attention, alright,” Axer said snarkily.

“You better cool it with the scary stuff, Axe,” Mick warned. “I want to live a non-scaring life, and you’re not gonna screw that up for me!”

“Don’t worry your prissy little head about me, Mick,” Axer replied. “I promise I’ll be a perfect gentleman to the little ponies. They’ll be sure to warm up to us then, right?”

The setting sun shone through the bars of the cage as it was carted to the Equestrian Preserve for Overly Naughty Animals, a correctional facility for animals too dangerous to roam free that was founded after one too many animal rampages through Ponyville. In the large cage sat a hydra that had been placated by tranquilizing magic, making it calm enough to not rage against the bars, but still ornery enough to argue with itself all the while.

“You see?” Axer said smugly. “You see how it goes? This is life as a monster.”

“I don’t want to hear it anymore!” Mick snapped with a huff, one that sparkled due to the magic coursing through his veins.

“What? I’m just saying, even when I’m not trying, I can scare like nobody’s business,” Axer bragged, his neck puffed out from pride and the earlier injection. “That’s how awesome I am!”

Draymond responded with a groan and a light skull bash, as he was too weary for a full-strength one. “You know, maybe we still could have gotten on the ponies’ good side if Hardy hadn’t decided we should take a dump in front of that giant merry-go-round.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault I felt the need to go!” Hardy said defensively. “That little bird must have messed with our bowels more than I expected.”

“You know, that and all the mayhem that happened may not have been an issue if you hadn’t eaten the guide that could have arranged a peaceful encounter!” Draymond snapped back.

“Hey, at least we found the unicorn we were looking for!” Hardy replied. “At least I think it was a unicorn. Do unicorns normally have wings?

“Well, that other unicorn who lived in that merry-go-round sure didn’t,” Mick said, a shudder coursing through his side of the body as he recalled the white unicorn’s reaction to the pile of hydra dung beside her not-so-humble abode. “Now she was scary!”

“Please, you think butterflies are scary!” Axer taunted.

“Hey, have you ever seen one of those things close up?!” Mick protested. “Those things are demons with pretty wings!”

“Ugh!” Axer groaned as he hit his head against the bars. “Why can’t you just grow a pair, you pansy?!”

“Why can’t you grow a pair of…hearts…in your…heart…place…ah, forget it!” Mick lunged his head at Axer, leading to another fight between the gaggle of hydra heads that lasted until the early night, only ending when their necks got tangled together like the world’s largest shoelace knot.

“Grah, I hate when this happens!” Draymond griped.

“What a great first impression we’ll make where we’re going…” Axer sighed.

“Hey, I just thought of something!” Mick said brightly. “Do you think little statuettes of us with our necks tied up like this would catch on?”

“Shut up, Mick!” the other three heads chorused in a manner that would make a barbershop trio jealous.

And thus ends the hydra’s tale. Oh, things happened to them after that, but those are stories for another time. This story isn’t called Hydra’s Big Adventure, after all. No, our hero’s story has yet to truly end…

In a garbage dump near Ponyville, a pile of hydra dung sat next to an old refrigerator and a pile of unanswered jury duty letters. Suddenly, from within the pile, some ashes emerged and swirled together to form a familiar shape: Peewee! He had managed to turn into ashes while in Hardy’s esophagus, and though it had taken him a while to figure out how to rebirth, he had managed to come out none the worse for wear. Well, except for being covered in hydra dung, but honestly, any adventurer that isn’t covered in hydra dung at some point hasn’t really had an adventure.

“WOOHOO!” Peewee cheered. “My first rebirth! Spike’s gonna be so proud when he hears about this!” With that, he flew off in the direction of the familiar-looking treetop building in the distance.

“…Wait a minute, I was just eaten by the creature I had helped, wasn’t I” Peewee realized. “What a jerk!”

End of Part 6

The End of An Adventure

Spike trudged into his treelike abode, worn out in body and spirit from the long day he had gone through. On top of his usual daily chores, he had also been helping Rarity out like he often does, except that this time, she had wanted him to model some dresses for fillies (the Cutie Mark Crusaders weren’t available because, according to Sweetie Belle, their future cutie marks were calling far away from her boutique). He was happy to help Rarity out, but he felt silly wearing dresses, especially the short ones that were designed to accentuate flanks he didn’t have. At least the longer ones made it easier to hide when his crotch got itchy and he had to scratch it. Rarity wouldn’t exactly find that classy, at least not until he was older.

Things really went south when a hydra starting rampaging the town. As it passed by Rarity’s boutique, Spike went out to try and reason with the hydra, but that didn’t go anywhere, because apparently just because dragons and hydras both had a “dra” in their names doesn’t mean that they get along. Also, it left a big pile of hydra dung next to the boutique, which ended up cutting negotiations short, especially for Rarity, who became vividly livid and swore she would turn the foul brute into a cutting-edge clothing line. Sadly for Rarity and the fashion world, Fluttershy came along at that moment to calm everyone down, and when that didn’t work, Twilight used a new tranquilizing spell she had learned to end the hydra menace. Rarity ended up needing the spell too, for obvious reasons.

And then came the lowest part of the whole experience: cleaning up all the hydra dung by himself. He probably could had gotten others to help him out (assuming there were ponies in Ponyville who couldn’t smell), but he had valiantly offered to do it all himself for the sake of his beloved, who was unfortunately too dazed by Twilight’s magic to really notice. The things he does for love! It was the grossest and smelliest evening of his life, and not the good kind of smelly like his feet usually were. By the time he had finally cleaned up all, the sun had fallen and bruised its heinie, and the spas were closed so he couldn’t even get the royal dragon’s treatment and become the limber, peppermint-scented heartbreaker that could have surely wooed his beloved Rarity if given the chance. Alas, he had to settle for washing himself off in a nearby pond, accidentally almost swallowing a leech and getting it stuck in his uvula in the process. How do these things keep happening to me?!

So it was that Spike returned home shortly after Twilight had turned in, who had at least been thoughtful enough to leave him a glass of milk and a granola bar with a thank-you note before hitting the hay, figuratively in this case, although she did once have to do so literally after a spell gone wrong. He guzzled down the cool milk, which managed to wash down the clingy uvula leech, but passed on the granola bar; he didn’t even like granola, Twilight was just trying to push it on him as part of her attempt to make him a healthy dragon. Ha, good luck with that!

Still, he knew he still had enough hydra dung stench on him that we wouldn’t be able to sleep near Twilight without her going ballistic, so it looked like it was the living room for him tonight. With a yawn, he dragged his drag-able dragon feet to the armchair by the unlit fireplace and curled himself up in its upholstery. At least this is classier than where I usually sleep…

Just then, Spike’s long-awaited trek into dreamland was interrupted by a tapping at the window on the front door. The young dragon suppressed a yelp of alarm and tiptoed cautiously to the front doors. “W-who’s there?” he asked, his boyish yet strangely womanish voice trembling with trepidation. “I’m warning you, I’m a dragon! You don’t want to mess with a dragon!” Wait, why am I so nervous about some light tapping at the door? I just survived a hydra AND cleaned up its poop! What do I have to be afraid of these days? …I really hope I don’t get an answer.

Thankfully, his fearful cry was answered by a familiar whistle, one that he had taught to a certain little bird ages ago. “No…it can’t be…” Spike ran over to the door and flung open the window, revealing a small, orange bird with a smile so bright it could be mistaken for a candle from far away.

“P…Peewee?”

The bird responded with a happy chirp and a quick dart to Spike’s chest, giving him a warm hug where his heart was, making it a literal heartwarming reunion, because puns are what truly keep Equestria alive.

“I can’t believe it!” Spike cried out, his eyes welling with tears, partly from joy and partly from their combined stench which they barely noticed. “You really came all this way to visit me? But I thought you were going to live with your family forever!”

Spike felt Peewee shake his head from their hug.

“You…you want to stay with me?”

A nod and a chirp from the chipper phoenix.

“Oh, thank you thank you thank you!” Spike exclaimed as he threw Peewee in the air in celebration. The two of them did a happy dance together, much like how a certain dog and bird liked to dance, at least until a familiar voice ruined their fun.

“Spike! Will you keep it down?!” Twilight yelled from her bedroom. “I’m trying to sleep!”

Spike and Peewee responded with simultaneous raspberries, followed by a round of giggles. “It’s so good to have you back, Peewee!” the young dragon said softly as he settled back in his armchair. “You’ve missed so much while you were away! Would you like to hear about the juicy stuff?”

Peewee nodded again and snuggled up against his beloved brother.

“Okay, little buddy, just sit tight, because these stories are going to take a while…”

The End

Author's Note

And so ends Peewee's Big Adventure! I hope you found it an enjoyable one!

To those who are sad to see Peewee's tales come to an end, don't worry; this isn't the the last you'll see of him. I'm planning on doing some short skits starring Peewee in the future, along with a spinoff story starring a certain fan-favorite character from this one. In the meantime, spread the good word about our beloved phoenix in hopes that he gets the love he deserves, and possibly a character tag on Fimfiction? One can dream.

I look forward to seeing you faithful readers again in the future! Until then, remember to keep friendship and Peewee in your hearts forever!

Onwards and Offwards

After going through such an exciting pre-breakfast period, Peewee was disappointed that the rest of his first day wasn’t nearly as exciting. He had breakfast (finally!), flew in the direction of Ponyville for a few hours, ate lunch, flew some more, blah blah blah, yawn snore. Spike had never warned him about the boring parts of his adventures, and he couldn’t help but feel ripped off. On the bright side, he did get plenty of time to think up a theme song for himself. So far, he had decided on these lyrics:

My name is Peewee
I am a phoenix
I don’t have a wee-wee
And I can count to six!
(whistle and belly bongo solo)

Perfect! He could just imagine crowds going wild as he rocked their world on stage. Rock stardom, here I come!

So yeah, that was the highlight of his afternoon. Fortunately for him, things started picking up around dinnertime, which, in this case, meant a particularly rare type of worm with dozens of legs called a…scented Pete? Something like that. The little bugger was pretty tricky to catch, at least until Peewee spit some fire at him and roasted him nice and toasty. Mmm! I really don't get enough roast worm!

“Fascinating!”

Peewee stopped short in mid-bite. Did the worm say that? He looked down at his stomach, only to notice something out of the corner of his eye he never expected to see out here: a pony. Her body was an interesting shade of green that reminded Peewee of a fruit that he had nearly choked on about a year ago; he remember Twilight calling it an olive after she had magically extracted it from his throat and then scolded him for being careless about his eating. Luckily, Spike was there to defend Peewee and comfort him like a nice dragon should. He even gave him some of his ice cream to help his throat! Wow, I really should have gotten myself choked a lot more!

Oh yeah, there was a pony observing him, wasn’t there? Yeah, her mane was brown–a far more boring color–and she had saddlebags on, so Peewee couldn’t see her butt drawing or whatever those things were called. She was writing something in a notebook with a pencil held in her mouth (which Peewee thought would be rather awkward, but then, he wasn’t a pony, so what would he know?), at least until she noticed that the phoenix had noticed her and froze like a deer in the headlights of a rampant carriage.

“Oh no no no, don’t pay any attention to me!” the pony insisted. “Just go back to whatever you were doing; I promise I won’t document it in any way!”

But Peewee was too interested in whatever was in her notebook to follow her request, so after swallowing the rest of his worm, he flew over to the pony, eliciting a groan from her. “Way to go, Rainey,” she muttered to herself. “How does it feel breaking the most important rule of observation? Not very good, I can imagine. In fact, I don’t have to imagine it; I can feel it myself! Aren't I special?”

Peewee flew up to her face and asked her, “Hey there! Can I see what you’re writing in your notebook?”

Rainey sighed in resignation and said, “Hello, little phoenix! You still hungry?”

“Not really,” Peewee replied. “I just want to see what’s in your notebook.”

“Hold on, I have some birdseed in here somewhere,” Rainey continued obliviously as she turned to her saddlebags and fished around in them. “Now where did I put it…?”

Peewee slapped a wing to his face while still keeping himself aloft (a trick every bird with a sense of frustration should learn early on). Why is it that every pony I talk to just ignores me? Well, except for that yellow pony back home, she’s nice, unlike her rude friends of hers! He was about to blow another raspberry at them when he noticed that Rainey wasn’t paying attention to her notebook, leaving it wide open for him to read it! He perched himself on the notebook as she continued searching her bags (“I know I put it somewhere…”). On the notebook, he saw that the pony had drawn a rough sketch of him on the latest page with some notes on his behavior below it. Huh, is that what I look like as a drawing? Maybe I should have listened to Priscilla after all.

“Oh, found it!” Peewee turned and saw Rainey pull a small can out of her left bag. “I know it’s not made specifically for phoenixes, but…” Rainey stopped short as she noticed the chick standing on her notebook. “What are you doing on my…oh, now I see!” she exclaimed. “You want to know what’s in my notebook, don’t you?”

Peewee gave a chirp that Rainey took as a chirp of confirmation, though to Peewee it sounded more like “Duh!”

“Oh, well, I don’t suppose there’s any harm in that, seeing as the cat’s out of the bag, anyway.” Rainey decided.

“There was a cat?” Peewee asked in confusion. “I don’t remember seeing a cat.”

Rainey, oblivious as ever, offered, “Come on, birdy, you can perch on my head and I’ll flip through the notebook so you can see it. Sound good?”

Peewee nodded and flew up to the top of Rainey’s head where he could get a good view of the notebook. Thank goodness her mane was short, or it would have been a real hassle to perch there and see anything, like the time he had tried landing on the head of that pink dessert pony to try and peak at a present she was wrapping, and he had ended up sinking into her poofy mane and getting stuck there, something she had never even noticed until she had taken a bath the next morning and washed her mane, freeing the tired and hungry phoenix from his cotton candy-shaped prison. Of course, she never had any idea that he had gotten trapped in her mane and just thought that he had decided to pay her a surprise visit, something she had found adorable. For some reason, Peewee had been in no mood to enjoy the bath, though he had quickly perked up and forgiven her when she gave him some after-bath desserts. Wow, I really should have gotten tangled up in her mane a lot more!

“…And that’s how I, Rainey Forrester, ended up finding and observing the illusive three-eyed snake!” the pony said as she pointed to a sketch of the snake in question. “Between that and a baby phoenix, I’d say that this was a successful expedition! I can’t wait to show the institute my findings!”

“Oh, you want to send the notebook there in a hurry? Let me help!” Peewee flew up to the book and did what he’d witnessed Spike do to send various letters: spit fire on it.

“GAH! What are you doing?!” Rainey shrieked as she stomped on the blazing book in an attempt to put out the flames.

“Hey, don’t put that out!” Peewee cried out. “I don’t think it’ll send if it doesn’t burn all the way!”

Rainey kept on stomping regardless, eventually putting out the flames, but by then, many of the middle pages had been badly charred, ruining them so badly that only goats and Discord would have any use for them. “My expedition notes…they’re ruined!” she cried, caressing the book with the tenderness of a mother that had somehow given birth to a book instead of a baby.

Peewee stared awkwardly. “Huh, that usually works when Spike does it.”

Rainey turned and faced Peewee with a look that said death. And taxes.

“…Uh, my bad?”

It was nightfall, and Peewee was resting on a thick branch, all tuckered out from an evening of fleeing from an enraged explorer. Rainey had proven to have a lot of stamina (though much of it was probably fueled by rage), and she probably would have worn him out if she hadn’t been distracted by a rare breed of firefly. She and the firefly would later get married, but that’s a story for another time.

Some hero I am, Peewee lamented. I tried to help someone out, and I just made them hate me. How am I supposed to fulfill my destiny as Spike’s heroic sidekick if I just screw everything up? …Or is that what sidekicks are supposed to do? In that case, maybe I should have messed up a lot worse. Either way, I need a lot more practice!

Peewee felt calmer when he looked up and saw the moon, all white and round and glowy. As Peewee gazed at the full moon, he couldn’t help but wonder: Is the moon magical and alive with its own inhabitants like Earth is, or is it just a floating hunk of rock that looks pretty? Would the world be any different if the moon wasn’t there? It’d probably be harder to sleep at night without a giant nightlight hanging in the sky. He had heard about a pony that controls the moon a few times while he was with Spike; maybe the dragon could introduce him to the moon pony someday. Heck, maybe she could even take him to the moon! That would be a lot of fun, wouldn’t it?

After thinking about the moon for another minute, Peewee got bored and quickly fell asleep.

End of Part 3