Spike whistled idly as he walked down the streets of Ponyville, his arm laden with a basket of gems. Twilight would be back that evening, so he had to clean up the library, but he still had most of the morning to enjoy being the boss of his own life. Currently, being the boss of his own life meant making himself a gem cake. He had been somewhat low on gems, but the old quarry had plenty to find if one knew where to look, and Spike had helped Rarity find gems often enough that he certainly knew where to look. Pausing his whistling, he idly popped a ruby into his mouth. He could already tell that today was going to be a great day.
.: .:. :.
Quarrel paused outside the door of a tree in the middle of the village, staring at it with wonder. He'd came to the tree because it was where the young dragon's scent was most condensed, and was probably where they lived, but now that he was there he was just struck with shock at the sight. This was a tree. In the middle of the village. And it had windows and a door and railings.
"...How?" Quarrel mumbled, sitting in front of the door. He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there, but really, how does one react to a tree with doors? that's not something one saw everyday.
He was drawn out of his semi-trance by the tap of a hoof on his shoulder. He turned his head, startled, and came muzzle-to-snout with a concerned-looking peach colored pony with a bright orange mane and grass-green eyes. "Are you ok?" the pony asked.
Quarrel nodded frantically, working to stop himself from leaping away. "Quarrel is fine! Nothing is possibly wrong with Quarrel!" he yelped. The peach pony nodded. Now she just looked confused.
"Ok," she mumbled, "If you're sure." She hesitated for a second, then trotted away. Quarrel stared after her for a second, then turned back to the door.
"How could Quarrel be not sure?" he mumbled to himself, "Quarrel would know if something was wrong with Quarrel. Quarrel is perfectly, completely fine and Quarrel is obviously sure of that." With a vaguely insulted hmph, he started considering what he should do now. Quarrel should stay here; it would be rude for Quarrel to go in while the owner was out. But... Quarrel thinks it would be rude to just wait outside... And the other dragon will probably understand if Quarrel comes in, right? It's cold out, a bit. It would be fine if Quarrel just comes in out of the cold. ...Right?
His mind made up, Quarrel reached for the doorknob and let himself in.
.: .:. :.
Stopping at the door of the library, Spike glanced down at the basket on his arm. He was surprised to find that most of the gems he'd gathered had somehow disappeared while he was walking (he couldn't have eaten that much, right?) but he still had enough for his cake. He opened the door, already visualizing himself eating his amazing cake. As he walked inside, he noticed absently that the door was unlocked, but everypony is nice enough to respect his and Twilight's privacy, and they rarely locked the door anyway. Spike started humming again as he walked towards the kitchen, moving his basket from one arm to being carried. It was a little before noon, the day was beautiful, and he was about to make a gem cake. Nothing could possibly go wrong.
"Quarrel is glad to find you here!"
Spike jumped, accidentally tossing his basket in the air and falling onto his back to avoid running into what seemed like a white blur. The blur paused, revealing itself to be a young dragon, quadrupedal rather than bipedal like Spike, with wings seemingly fused to it's forelegs. It was a snowy white color with large, bright blue eyes.
"Umm... are you ok?" the dragon asked, nervously shifting from foot to foot, "Quarrel... did not mean to startle you. Quarrel is sorry. Uh... what's your name?"
Spike groaned, rubbing his back. "Why are you even here?" he asked, putting off answering the dragon's question. He wasn't sure yet if he wanted this dragon to know anything about him.
The dragon ducked its head embarrassedly. "Quarrel smelled you. Quarrel wanted to see you, so Quarrel came to where there was the most scent. Quarrel promises Quarrel didn't mean anything to do bad. Quarrel... Quarrel is really sorry." it answered, although it seemed to be talking more to the floor than to Spike. It shuffled backwards slightly as it talked, turning from a whirlwind of energy to a dejected child in a sentence.
Spike signed. Now he just felt guilty. "Nah, it's fine," he said, "No harm done." The dragon tilted it's head up to look at him.
"Really?" it asked hopefully. It blinked, then sat suddenly, tail flicking against a spilled sapphire. Spike bit the inside of one cheek to keep from laughing; sitting down, the dragon reminded him of Winona. He nodded, reaching down and grabbing a piece of quartz.
"Really. Do you think you could help me pick these up?" he asked, motioning to the gems strewn across the floor with his piece of quartz, then placing the quartz in his basket.
The dragon nodded eagerly, grabbing an emerald and placing it in the basket. "Quarrel is fine with helping!" it yipped, "By the way, what's your name? Quarrel has asked three times before."
Spike looked at it. He still had an odd feeling about telling it his name, but couldn't think of a reasonable reason to not answer, and not answering would probably be rude. "I'm Spike. And you are...?"
"Quarrel!" it exclaimed enthusiastically.
Spike nodded. "Right. So, Quarrel, why are you here? I know you said that you 'smelled' me, but how, and why were you close enough to 'smell' me?"
"Quarrel is still to young to not be without another dragon, and Quarrel smelled Spike, so Quarrel wanted to talk to Spike, at least," Quarrel explained, looking at Spike oddly. After a second, he ventured, "If it is ok with Spike, Quarrel would like to stay with Spike for a while?"
Spike started at the hesitant question. Maybe I should wait for Twilight to deal with this...
Author's Note
I don't have much to say about this chapter, as this is still the beginning, but I can say this: I'm still new to writing stories and having people other than my dad read them, so anyone who offers criticisms and suggestions I will be immensely grateful to. Also, even if this story isn't very good yet, I'd like people to stay with me. Practice and suggestions make for better work, and I intend to better my work as much as I can.
With love,
Sleepy
The young dragon peered down at the village, his tail whipping back and forth as he thought. Quarrel shouldn't go down, he thought, There are too many ponies. If they don't like Quarrel...
He shook his head in an attempt to forcibly dislodge that train of thought. Quarrel will be fine, he reprimanded himself mentally, And Quarrel will go down, because Quarrel needs to be with others, even if they're ponies. Quarrel might go crazy if Quarrel's alone any longer; Quarrel is already starting to talk to the forest animals. And this village will be safe, probably, because there's dragon scent all over it. Young dragon scent.
Swallowing, the young dragon ruffled his wings determinedly and set off down the hill. Quarrel will be fine, he repeated to himself, Quarrel will be more than fine. After all, these ponies must be safe, if another young dragon is living here.
.: .:. :.
Twilight galloped into the library, throwing the door open telekinetically seconds before she collided with it. "Spike?" she called, glancing around. No answer. "Spike?" she tried again. A groan issued from behind the door she had hastily thrown open.
"Here..." Spike mumbled, dragging himself out from behind the door. Twilight levitated her saddlebags onto her back, almost cantering in place.
"Great!" Twilight exclaimed, "Pinkie just asked me and the rest of the girls to come with her to some baking contest in Canterlot, so I wanted to make sure you were ok with staying here by yourself for a few days."
Spike stared at her groggily. "It used to be you'd panic if anything happened without you scheduling it months in advance. Remember when you stayed up all night panicking because you forgot to scheduling time to make a new schedule?"
Twilight huffed. "That was one time. Will you be ok here on your own for a few days?"
Spike pretended to think about it, but he already knew his answer. "Sure! I'm sure I can handle it; what could go wrong?"
Author's Note
And the stage is set. Let the play begin! I'll be talking about the whole story like it's a play now, won't I? Oh well.
