The Eating Habits of the Genus Strix
At least it's not one of Fluttershy's
Twilight's knife slid cleanly through the carrot stalk with quick, precise motions, and scraped each piece into a steadily growing pile off to the side of the cutting board. Beside her, on the kitchen counter, was a bowl of crunchy greens and juicy tomato wedges.
She hummed along to a ditty in her head as she finished with the carrot, lifted the board over the bowl, and dropped the pieces into the salad. A pair of forks levitated from a nearby silverware drawer, tossing the bowl's contents as Twilight squirted spurts of vinaigrette inside.
"And, for the final touch," she muttered to herself, her stomach rumbling. A hard-boiled egg hovered over the salad; its shell disintegrated in a flash of light, and the egg quartered in midair, its pieces falling among the rest of the salad.
"One high-protein, low-calorie salad, well dressed and tossed to perfection – a perfectly balanced lunch for the modern, health-conscious bookworm." She stabbed one of her forks into the bowl, floated it off the counter, and turned to head out of the kitchen. "Hey, Spike, as long as I'm up, do you want me to get you any—"
"Shh. Shhhh." Spike was pressed against the kitchen door, his fingers curled around its edge as he peered furtively into the library. "Twilight, you gotta get a load of this."
"Get a load of... what?" Twilight trotted toward the door, carefully maintaining her telekinetic grip on the salad bowl. "What's the matter?"
Spike snapped his neck around and held a finger to his lips, shushing Twilight with even greater ferocity. Then he returned to his peeking, beckoning Twilight closer.
Twilight rolled her eyes, ducked her head, and crept over to Spike, hovering her head above his.
Spike's fingers drummed silently against the door. "You see it right?"
"Uh... I think so," Twilight whispered back. Owlowiscious perched beside the carved pony head on the library's central table, his back to the kitchen and his head hunched over something. "Why don't you clue me in, though?"
"It's Owlicious. He's—"
"Owlowiscious."
"Whatever, Twilight, same diff. That's not the point here—"
"Don't whatever me," Twilight hissed to her assistant. "I know you two haven't always gotten along, but you could at least trouble yourself to get his name right. How would you feel if he called you 'Spee-kay,' huh?"
"I'd be impressed that he said something besides 'who,'" Spike shot back. "Now shut up and—"
"Don't shut up me either, Spike! What's gotten into—"
"Twi, look!" Spike grabbed her mane and gave it a good yank; though it made her annoyance with him grow, it also had the intended effect. She looked, and covered her mouth with her hoof to stifle a gasp.
"Oh my goodness," Twilight breathed. "Is he... is he eating?"
"Uh-huh."
"I've never seen him eat before! This is absolutely fascinating!" Twilight exclaimed, her glee nearly causing her voice to rise above Fluttershy levels of noise. Then she dropped her hoof and squinted at Owlowiscious again as he tossed his head back. Something red and wet-looking vanished through his mouth.
Twilight's muzzle crinkled. "Is he eating... meat?"
"Yeah," Spike replied. "Yeah, he's eating meat."
"...How long has he been at it?" Twilight whispered raggedly.
"How long were you makin' that salad?"
"Sheesh..." Swallowing, Twilight looked down at Spike. "Do you... do you know what kind of meat?"
Spike squinted. "Rat, I think. Or mouse. Maybe a squirrel. What difference does it make?"
"I guess it doesn't. It's just..." Twilight trailed off. Absently, she began to twirl her fork in the bowl that still floated next to her. "Huh."
"Yeah. Huh. Guess owls are carnivorous. Who knew?" Spike's nails dug slightly into the wood. "We should probably do something about it."
"Do something?" Twilight blinked down at Spike. "Like what?"
"Like... stop him?" Spike said slowly, looking back up at Twilight to meet her gaze bemusedly. "There are a lot of places in Ponyville for an owl to hork down a rodent, and I'm not sure the library furniture is one of them."
"No, no... no, I don't think that's necessary," said Twilight, looking back out at the hungry owl. "You were right to tell me, but we should, uh... we should let him finish up, shouldn't we? Y'know, for science?"
"Science?" Spike parroted skeptically.
"Yeah, science. First time we've seen him eat, and all. This is a good chance to, uh... study him... to learn about..." Twilight trailed off. The fork stabbed through a tomato and a wet wad of lettuce, and slid the collected vegetation into Twilight's mouth. Her muffled munching drew Spike's attention; he stared up at her, askance.
"What are you— you're eating? You're watching the owl eat a rat, and you're eating while watching him?!"
Twilight gulped down the mouthful, and shrugged. "Yeah, why not? I'm hungry."
Spike pointed at the owl. "He's eating. A rat. On the furniture!"
"So I see." Twilight shoved a clump of lettuce and egg into her mouth. The vinaigrette was tangy on her lips and tongue, blending well with the taste of the yolk.
Spike's face twisted. "Is watching him eat making you hungrier?!"
"Mmf?" Twilight glanced at her salad, swallowing. "Now that you mention it... I guess there is some kind of correlation between his appetite and mine. Or perhaps a correlation between my appetite for learning and my appetite for... uh... food."
She floated three carrot slices from the bowl and popped them into her mouth, one after the next.
"...Weird. Weird, weird, weird. Weirdo." Spike shook his head in bafflement, and looked back into the library with a shudder. "Not as weird as carnivorism, but still... weird."
"Don't be judgmental, Spike," Twilight scolded. "Dragons are naturally omnivorous, aren't they?"
"Which is not the same as carnivorous," Spike fired back. "Besides, when was the last time you saw me eat meat?"
"You still have the capacity to—"
"Yeah, but I don't. I channel all my meat-urges into more noble pursuits, like baking. And poetry." Spike looked up at Twilight. "Did I tell you I started writing poetry?"
"Poetry? Really?" Twilight frowned. "You haven't started sending Rarity love poems, have you?"
"No," Spike snapped, blushing. Then, after a moment, he sheepishly muttered, "yes."
Twilight sighed and rubbed the top of Spike's head affectionately. "Oh, Spike..."
A muffled ripping noise drew their attention back to the library. "Goodness. He's really into that, isn't he?" Twilight murmured.
"Yeah," Spike said airily. He reached for the salad bowl, fished out the remaining pieces of egg, and tossed them into his mouth.
Twilight watched him chew, rolling her eyes.
So much for "perfectly balanced."
Author's Note
A tribute to the first episode of the show that I ever watched... which, if I hadn't had the sense to give the show another chance after that, would've been the last episode of the show that I ever watched.
Twilight and Spike not knowing about owls was, to me, one of the weirdest things about the first season.
This is also the prototype chapter for another story that I conceived last night. I liked it, as did a couple of blokes from the Writeoff crew who looked it over, but I thought it clashed with the tone that I was going for. I liked it too much to throw it out, though.
