One Chapter is Sufficient
In Its Natural Habitat
by Kris Overstreet
Tap tap tap tap tap.
Spike paused in his washing of the breakfast dishes to look around. Whoever it was knocking, they weren’t knocking on the front door (and that was good, because that door was halfway across the castle and two flights of stairs down from Twilight’s personal kitchen). The sound was sharper and closer, as if it were coming from inside the room…
…or, more likely, from the kitchen window. Probably Rainbow Dash wanting to mooch a late breakfast off of Twilight, Spike thought, turning off the sink faucet and pushing the stepladder over to the window.
There, on the other side of the glass, a little red and gold flame made of feathers beat its beak against the windowframe.
“Pee Wee!” It had been a year since Spike had returned the little phoenix hatchling to its parents, but he recognized him at once. In a moment the little dragon had the window open, letting the little bird hop onto his arm and hug him. “Yeah, it’s good to see you too,” he said. “How’ve you been?”
Pee Wee gave a cheerful chirp, which was almost drowned out by the dull, resonant thumping echoing from two floors down and half the castle away.
That would be the front door. Because of course it was.
“I’ll get it!” Twilight Sparkle’s voice echoed above the bass boom of the door.
Spike glanced at his little visitor. “Twilight’s gotta be the only princess in the world who answers her own front door. Of her castle. That she has.” After a moment he asked. “How did you find us anyway? We were still living in the tree library when you were here.”
In a few short chirps Pee Wee conveyed the obvious truth; that tall crystalline castles with a vaguely tree-ish architectural motif are difficult to miss.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Spike agreed. “Hey, let’s go find Twilight! I know she’ll be thrilled to see you!”
Together baby dragon and baby phoenix trotted through the castle, down winding stairs and through glittering halls. “You’re going to like it here,” Spike said as they walked. “There’s plenty of room, what with just Twilight, Owlowicious, Starlight Glimmer, and me. And you, now, I guess!”
Eventually the two approached the entry hall. Through an open archway Spike heard a soft, lilting male voice thanking Twilight Sparkle. “It’s so good of you to admit me, Your Highness,” the voice said. “A humble naturalist like myself can only be grateful.”
“Humble naturalist?” Twilight gasped. “You’re Richer Attaburro! Starlight, this is Sir Richer Attaburro!”
Spike didn’t notice the phoenix on his shoulder rolling its eyes. It shouldn’t be possible for a bird to roll its eyes with exasperation, but Pee Wee managed it.
“Please just call me Dickie, Your Highness.”
“I’m sorry, Twilight,” another voice- that of Starlight Glimmer- put in. “But should I know this pony?”
Spike entered the entry hall just in time to see Twilight waving a hoof at an elderly donkey standing patiently just inside the castle’s front door. The donkey was just as bald as Cranky Doodle except for a wisp of white hair in a wayward tangle around his ears. And where Cranky Doodle was habitually grumpy and taciturn, this newcomer greeted the world with a gentle, beatific smile and a sense of wonder. (Or that could be the castle; ponies often had that reaction to entering the castle for the first time.)
“Should you know him??” Twilight gasped. “This is Richer Attaburro, the greatest naturalist and documentarian in all Equestria! He’s been writing books and making movies about nature since my mother was a little filly! I’ve read all his works!”
“You’re too kind to a plain old donkey,” Attaburro said.
“Sorry, I kind of missed all that,” Starlight Glimmer said. “What with all the stealing cutie marks and brainwashing ponies and seeking revenge and all that. You know how it is.”
There followed a most awkward pause.
"Or... maybe not," Starlight added feebly.
Awkward pause over, Twilight turned her attention to her illustrious visitor. “So what brings you to Ponyville?” she asked.
“Your Highness, my crew and I,” Atttaburro said, gesturing to a large potted plant in the corner of the room with a camera lens extending from its leaves, “are tracking the first migration of a phoenix chick. We followed it from the dragon lands to your very doorstep.”
“A phoenix chick?” Twilight asked.
“Yeah, Twilight!” Spike said, trotting up to the three equines. “I just came down to show you! Pee Wee’s back! Say hello, Pee Wee!” Spike raised his arm, unaware there wasn’t a phoenix perching on it anymore. “Huh? Where’d he go?”
“Do you know a phoenix chick, Your Highness?” Attaburro asked.
“Yes,” Twilight said. “Spike saved a phoenix egg from being smashed by dragon whelps, and it hatched. Pee Wee lived with us for a little while before Spike returned him to his parents.”
“That explains it,” Attaburro said. “Phoenix chicks take a long time to grow up, and at several times during their childhood they experiment with finding a home for themselves. On their first attempt the chicks usually seek out an environment where they feel safe and secure.” Grinning with excitement, he continued, “Where is he? We mustn’t miss this unique opportunity to observe this miracle of nature!”
“He was with me until just a moment ago,” Spike said.
“Maybe he went to your room,” Twilight said. “C’mon!”
“But Pee Wee just got here,” Spike said. “How would he even know which room is mine?” None of the ponies listened, and in short order he found himself running to catch up with them as they raced halfway across the castle and up two flights of stairs to the rooms used for Twilight’s and Spike’s private quarters.
Pee Wee wasn’t in Spike’s room. Nor, as it turned out, was he in the kitchen. Instead the group found the little phoenix chick in the anteroom of Twilight Sparkle’s personal apartment, claws gripping the edge of a high bookshelf, carefully pacing back and forth on the edge as it examined the books closely. The ponies noticed another camera peeping out from a different potted plant, lens tracking Pee Wee’s every movement.
“Observe!” Attaburro exclaimed in a gasp of reverence. “The chick, having found a place of relative security, is now in the careful process of choosing a nesting site.”
“It is?” Spike gasped. “I mean, he is?” Looking up at Pee Wee, the little dragon waved an arm and shouted, “Hey, Pee Wee, you can stay with- mmf!“ Spike shoved Twilight's wing out of his mouth and spat out a mouthful of down. “Hey, what gives, Twilight?”
“We mustn’t interfere with Pee Wee right now,” Twilight Sparkle whispered. “Mr. Attaburro is studying the nesting habits of young phoenixes! We’re present at a landmark moment for natural science! We have to let nature take its course!”
While Twilight had been talking, Starlight had been staring at the magic bird on the bookshelf. “Twilight,” she said carefully, “isn’t that your collection of the writings of Starswirl the Bearded?”
“Only the works published within his lifetime,” Twilight said. “His Thoughts on Government, Thoughts on Magic, Thoughts on Child-Rearing, Thoughts on the Chamberpot, his Observations on the Nature of Ponies, On the Education of a Princess, his Journeys among the Giant Pygmies of-“
Twilight Sparkle had only made it about halfway down the list of titles before Pee Wee reached the end of the long line of books, pressed the top of his head against Starswirl the Bearded Goes Quantity Surveying, and pushed hard. Slowly at first, but with the inexorable momentum of a train leaving the station, the line of books slid to the edge of the shelf and tumbled off, one by one.
With a squawk of outrage Twilight Sparkle spread her wings and zipped through the air to the falling books, snagging each of them just before they could hit the floor. One by one she stacked the books atop each other, forming a tower reaching almost to the level of the bookshelf.
Nodding to himself with a satisfied squawk, Pee Wee dropped off the now empty bookshelf, spread his little wings, and fluttered back out into the hallway.
“Having cleared his chosen nesting site of debris,” Attaburro intoned, “the young phoenix goes in search of materials to construct his nest. The nest must be strong to withstand the elements, yet must also meet the phoenix’s exacting aesthetic standards.”
“Yeah, sure,” Starlight Glimmer sighed. “Twilight, do you want help putting these books back? It’ll only take a minute.”
Twilight Sparkle took a couple of deep breaths. “No, Starlight,” she said, “we mustn’t interfere with Pee Wee’s nesting. I’m sure we can put up with a little inconvenience for the sake of science… right?”
Spike stepped away from Twilight, whose mane had begun to smolder with her barely repressed rage. “Right!” he said. “Besides, Pee Wee’s a friend! And friends help each other out, right? I’m sure he won’t be any trouble!”
Right on cue Pee Wee flew back into the room, about twenty or so plastic-bagged comic books gripped in his talons.
“HEY!!” Spike gasped. “That’s my Power Ponies collection!”
With a final effort the little magical bird got the bundle of comics up to the shelf, landed, and then deftly removed the bags from the comics, one at a time. This done, Pee Wee selected one comic, giving it a close and careful examination, turning first one eye and then the other to it like a little parrot.
Then, nodding his head, he took the cover in his beak and ripped it off.
“NOOOOOOO!!” Spike yelled, barely restrained by Twilight’s hoof from rushing to the rescue of his comics.
“I’ll get you another, Spike,” Twilight insisted.
“But that was the special collectible issue from two years back!” Spike shrieked. “The one in which Masked Matter-horn and Mistress Mare-velous had their final showdown to decide who would lead the Power Ponies! Nopony’s selling their copies of that one anymore!”
Paying the dragon’s distress no mind, Attaburro said over the sound of tearing comic pages, “The phoenix has a natural eye for valuable items of high quality. Only the finest materials will be incorporated into the final design, while inferior material will be strictly discarded. This level of discernment is a true miracle of nature.”
A moment later five of the comics got unceremoniously kicked off the shelf, flopping onto the floor. Spike scrambled over to them, giving them a quick once-over. “The Saddle Rager solo mini-series! He didn’t touch these!” After a moment of reflection, relief turned to anger. “Hey! Why didn’t you touch these? I don’t care what the critics say! Saddle Rager’s character can too sustain a solo story! She’s not limited to an ensemble role!”
Pee Wee gave a derisive squawk in reply, followed by more ripping and tearing of paper.
Half an hour and seven utterly destroyed comics later, Pee Wee’s nest was complete. For a first attempt, it looked surprisingly well-constructed, as bird nests go. Folded pages from different comics wrapped around the structure, forming a colorful exterior.
“Hey, look!” Starlight Glimmer said, pointing a hoof at the nest. “You can kind of read a message in the word balloons along the outside! ‘Everyone- knows- Humdrum- is- lame.’”
“Not helping,” Spike growled, still glaring up at the nest.
Pee Wee, having put the final touches on the nest, climbed out of it, shook himself, and fluttered back out the door.
“After completing a heavy labor,” Attaburro said gravely, “the phoenix, being a fastidious bird, will seek to clean itself. If even a single feather is out of place, the phoenix will not be satisfied until all is put to rights once more.”
Twilight and Spike breathed a simultaneous sigh of relief. “At least he won’t destroy anything for a little while,” Twilight said.
“That’s what you think!” Starlight Glimmer said, eyes widening with fear. “Think! What would be the most inconsiderate thing a house guest could do to wash up?”
Twilight and Spike stared back in confusion.
“Nnnngh! Just get to the bathroom! Hurry!” Without waiting to see if the others would follow, Starlight Glimmer galloped from the room. The others, still a bit confused, followed as quickly as they could, down stair and hallway, reaching the bathroom door just in time to see Pee Wee flutter inside. Starlight Glimmer made a flying leap for the door, which meant that a moment later, just after Pee Wee slammed the door shut and locked it behind him, she struck it head-first.
A few seconds later, the sounds of running water filtered through the door.
“Phoenixes will bathe in cold water only when hot water is unavailable.” Attaburro, apparently unwinded by the mad dash through the castle corridors, had resumed his narration. “Due to their fiery nature, phoenixes are uniquely skilled in seeking sources of hot water and utilizing them to the utmost. Truly this is a miracle of nature.”
“Who are you telling this to?” Starlight asked, trying to shake off the stars swirling around her vision.
Spike and Twilight both pointed to a wall hanging. Although the tapestry lay absolutely flat against the wall and couldn’t possibly have hidden a pony, a camera lens still peeped around its edge.
A bit of steam crept through the top of the bathroom door. Inside, Pee Wee began whistling and chirping, very loud and quite off key.
“All right,” Twilight said. “So he’s taking a shower. How long can that take?”
The ponies sat and waited for two solid hours. After the first hour, in one case at least, the sitting ended and the dancing back and forth on crossed hind hooves began.
“This castle has a dozen bedrooms and a banquet hall that can seat fifty,” Starlight Glitter complained through grit teeth. “Whose brilliant idea was it that it should have only one bathroom?”
“I don’t think the Tree of Harmony needs a bathroom,” Twilight Sparkle grumbled.
"Can't we repurpose the lampshade closet as a second bathroom?" Starlight insisted. "I can get the plumbers in this afternoon."
"No!" Twilight insisted. "If we do that, we might not have enough lampshades to go around when we need them!"
Just then the sound of running water, more or less constant for the previous two hours, ceased. There were a few brief sounds of soft things being pulled down from high places. Then the door opened, and Pee Wee marched out, a large bath towel trailing along behind him, a washcloth bundled around the top of his head.
“With cunning instinct the phoenix knows the exact moment when the supply of hot water is exhausted,” Attaburro said. “Yet another of nature’s many miracles.”
“It doesn’t take a miracle to figure that out,” Spike grumbled.
“With a clean body and a well-built nest,” Attaburro murmured, “the phoenix chick will turn its attention to the next vital requirement; a source of sustenance.”
Twilight looked at Spike, who looked right back. “The fridge!” they said as one, and ran for the kitchen. (Starlight Glimmer didn’t follow; she had an overdue appointment with the castle’s eighth throne.)
Surprisingly, Pee Wee wasn’t in the kitchen, although the refrigerator door was wide open and an empty ice cream carton lying on the floor. “Nooo!” Spike wailed. “I was saving that last bite of rocky road for dessert tonight!”
“But he didn’t touch anything else!” Twilight said. “So what’s he going to eat?”
Boom boom boom. Someone was knocking on the castle door again. “I’VE GOT IT!” Starlight Glimmer shouted from several rooms away. There followed the faint sound of a toilet flushing.
“Whatever,” Twilight Sparkle said. “Maybe he filled up on your scoop of ice cream. Let’s just see what he’s doing.” She led Spike and Attaburro into Twilight’s anteroom, where they found Pee Wee reading.
Pee Wee, as it turned out, had snubbed his new nest in favor of a seat on a cushion on Twilight’s couch. Somehow, impossibly, he had managed to get a full glass of apple juice onto a coaster beside him, and he occasionally took sips from it as he read one of the comics he hadn’t destroyed. He paid no attention to ponies and dragon, acting as if they weren’t even present.
“The labors of nesting complete, the phoenix chick now settles in to enjoy his new-found independence,” Attaburro said.
“What independence?” Twilight asked. “He’s a little chick! And he’s acting like a freeloader!”
“Yeah!” Spike said. “He’s been really out of line! He dumped Twilight’s books, he destroyed my most collectible comics, he almost made Starlight wet herself-“
“I’m much better now,” Starlight Glimmer said, leading Snails into the room. The adolescent unicorn wore a red baseball cap and matching polo shirt. A large pizza box trailed along behind him, held in his magic.
“Palomino's Pizza. Got a delivery here for Mr. Wee?” Snails drawled.
Pee Wee chirped and hopped off the cushion, not noticing the cider glass toppling over and spilling cider all over the couch.
Twilight’s eyes bulged. “But… but how??” she asked.
“One large sunflower seed and earthworm pizza,” Snails said. “That’ll be fifteen bits.”
“Notice,” Attaburro said in that eternally quiet, wonder-filled voice, “how the phoenix, in unfamiliar territory, yet successfully finds provision for days without needing to leave the nest, secured by his parents’ Equestrian Express card.”
Indeed, Pee Wee had pulled a plastic card out from under his wing, and Snails had produced a card imprinter and was busy writing the sale information on the slip.
“Truly,” Attaburro concluded, “a wondrous miracle of nature.”
Twilight Sparkle took on the appearance of a pony preparing to part her moorings and set sail on the wide open Sea of Insanity.
Pee Wee had just opened the box and taken a long appreciative sniff of the pizza inside when two larger phoenixes flew into the room. Both squawked loudly and angrily, fluttering down to land on either side of the hatchling.
“As is not unusual for a first attempt at independence,” Attaburro said, “the parents have come to investigate their offspring’s attempts. In this particular case it is apparent that the parents do not approve.”
“Gee, d’ya think?” Spike asked.
The older phoenixes continued their loud squawking, gesturing wings at the spilled cider, the pizza, the nest, and the room in general.
“The parents execute the instinctual Quit Slumming With Your Disreputable Friends ritual,” Attaburro said.
“Disreputable?” Spike shouted. “I only saved their egg from getting smashed!”
Pee Wee chittered back with high-pitched agitation, hopping from one foot to another and thrashing his wings.
“The chick, for his part, draws on instinct for the You Don’t Understand Me dance,” Attaburro said. “Unfortunately he has chosen to merge it with the Song of Trying to Find Myself, an unfortunate combination.”
“Trying to find himself?” Twilight Sparkle shouted. “He can start by looking on my couch! That he ruined!”
The three magic birds squawked louder and louder at one another. “It appears that, despite his best efforts,” Attaburro said, “the chick’s first attempt at independence has failed. This is not surprising. Almost all attempts to leave the parents fail on the first attempt. However, such a promising start as this particular chick has made-“
The soft, unflappable, perpetually interested voice went silent.
Twilight, Spike and Starlight all looked at Richer Attaburro… or, rather, where he had been. On the spot where an elderly donkey had stood there now sat a large white canvas sack, flanked by two ponies in clean white coats, one of whom had a large butterfly net tucked under one foreleg.
The phoenixes, noticing the change, ceased squawking immediately. Pee Wee, no longer ignoring the ponies and dragon, promptly fluttered over to Spike and roosted on his shoulder.
“All right, I have had it!!” Twilight roared. “What is going ON here?”
“My apologies, Twilight,” a new voice called from the doorway. Starlight Glimmer took one look, gasped, and tried to create zero open space between herself and the floor as Princess Celestia walked into the room, a fourth phoenix riding on her back. “But Philomena has just finished telling me all about poor Sir Richer Attaburro.”
“Celestia? Are you behind this??” Twilight growled. “My books! My couch!”
“My comics!” Spike added. “My ice cream!”
“My dignity,” Starlight Glimmer mumbled, not lifting her head from the floor. "Not that I had much to start with, but still."
Celestia levitated Starlight from her kowtow and shook her gently until the unicorn’s legs unfolded. Setting her back down, she explained, “I’m afraid that Sir Richer is no longer the donkey he was. He’s no longer able to tell the difference between his own imaginings and reality. Over the past year he’s not so much been observing nature as… well, as bothering it. Annoying it most intensely, to be honest.”
The phoenixes squawked agreement.
“Last month I arranged to have Sir Richer hospitalized before somepony gets hurt,” Celestia continued. “Unfortunately, Sir Richer is unusually skilled at escaping, so when the wild phoenixes reported Sir Richer bothering them, we asked them to keep him distracted long enough to make it possible to recapture him.”
There was a blast of flame from the bookshelf, followed by a flash of magic. To Spike’s delight, seven comic books were carefully lifted down to him by the two wild phoenixes. “I’m afraid your comics will no longer be considered mint condition,” Celestia continued, “but the industry has established an official rating of Near Mint Restored Slightly Phoenixed.”
Pee Wee, still perched on Spike’s shoulder, gave a contrite series of chirps.
“Also,” Celestia translated, “Pee Wee apologizes for casting aspersions on Humdrum and Saddle Rager.” A confused look flitted across her face, but only for a moment.
“And the couch and the ice cream?” Twilight asked.
“Will be replaced,” Celestia said. “I am sorry for the disruption, but it really was necessary to keep Sir Richer distracted.” She nodded to the two ponies from the mental hospital, who solemnly lifted the bag full of naturalist and carried him away. A moment later, with a swirl of flaming feathers and loud farewell chirps, Pee Wee and his parents took off, circled the ponies, and flew out through the open window in the kitchen.
“Well!” Twilight said, recovering her cheerful demeanor, “I guess all’s well that ends well, then.”
“Indeed,” Celestia added. She looked at the pizza box still sitting on the couch. “Excuse me, Twilight,” she added, “but does that belong to anypony?” Without waiting for an answer, she dropped her sun-adorned flank onto the couch, levitated a still-warm slice out of the box, and, with every sign of pleasure, took a deep bite out of the sunflower-seed-and-earthworm pizza.
“The majestic alicorn is a master scavenger,” a soft, wonder-filled voice echoed through the room. “Spotting an abandoned kill, she swoops in and takes the choicest bits for herself. Truly this discrimination is yet another of nature’s miracles.”
Twilight Sparkle’s jaw dropped.
Slowly, with an almost sinister air about it, a movie camera lens slid out from between two couch cushions.
Spike shrugged. “Well, I’m out,” he said simply. “Hay Burger for lunch, Starlight?”
“Sounds good to me,” Starlight Glimmer agreed, and the two left the princesses and the disembodied voice to their weirdness.
Author's Note
My silly, crack-filled entry into Everfree Scribblefest 2017!
Writing prompt: Growing up wild and forever free
This automatically suggested Pee Wee, and in that context also suggested moving as directly opposite to "wild and forever free" as I could get away with.
Apologies to Sir Richard Attenborough, who doesn't repeat the line "miracle of nature" like this. Much.
