Purple Weed Cosmopolitan

Ponyville. August, 2017.

The great nation of Equestria can be thought of as a microcosm of the world around it. Her citizens take it as a point of pride that a pony can find prime examples of nearly every conceivable climate, biosphere, or geographical feature fathomable to the mind therein, and some even beyond that which the average consciousness can perceive. A trip from sea to shining sea would therefore be certain to produce a lifetime’s worth of adventure to tourist and intrepid explorer alike - from frozen tundras, to scathing deserts, to the damp unknown of tropical rainforests.

In the middle of it all runs the most temperate latitude in the known world; a strip of general balance between seasons that consequently offers itself as the most popular place for ponies to make their homes. This lush greenery encompasses everything from the sleepy borough of Ponyville on up to the Canterlot peaks, and then sweeps eastward to Manehattan’s Horseshoe Bay. Without a doubt, it is the most likely quarter in which a pony can maintain an expectation of both fairly distributed weather patterns and a bountiful harvest.

But there are always exceptions.

On one such day, in the sweltering rays of a high August afternoon, Spike the dragon’s thoughts were consumed by two notions - one being that he should appreciate the ability to breathe ice water, and the other wondering what Ponyville did to invoke the punishment of Princess Celestia’s heavenly body above. Fanning himself with a first edition copy of Go Prance in the Three Kingdoms simply because it had a lot of pages, he lay prone upon the front steps of the Palace of Friendship, gazing up at her prismatic towers until he felt certain their colors were running in the heat. He had previously been lying on his stomach, but was persuaded to cook evenly on his other side when each grain of bleached white sand from the path before the palace had begun to resemble a book to him.

“Ugh...why did she have to compare the sum of all knowledge to grains of sand on a beach,” The young dragon whined. “We don’t even have a beach so that’s just a cruel joke...all I said was that we filed two-thousand three hundred and forty-one books since Thursday. So what if I was off by one? Of all the metaphors…”

Spike trailed off when he realized that working his jaw to talk to nopony would only generate more heat. He sighed, mumbling something about the unfairness of a fire-breathing creature felled by heat, until his field of view filled with the grinning visage of his mistress and surrogate mother, Princess Twilight Sparkle. Twilight stood over her assistant with an infuriatingly merry grin.

“Hey Spike!” Twilight sang. “What’re you up to for the rest of this fine day?”

Spike, spread-eagle on the step, raised a brow drolly. “I’m baking at three seventy-five for twenty minutes. I’m gonna be delicious.”

The sarcasm sailed clear over Twilight’s head; or perhaps it just crumbled ineffectively against the armor of her smile. “Hah! You’re so silly. Why don’t you go inside if you’re so hot?”

“Because it’s three degrees warmer in the shade and the castle feels like an oven,” Spike complained. He moved his hands over his face. “I’d rather be out here on the skillet. And could you please not breathe on me? I’m gonna end up ovulating!”

Twilight snorted out a laugh but obliged by pulling her head up first. “You mean you’re going to immolate. If you start ovulating I’m gonna have to ‘immolate’ every book on dragon lore we have and start over. Both of them.”

“Pleeeease don’t talk about burning things,” Spike whined again, rolling on his side to spare himself the tease of clouds that looked like ice cream. “Are you expecting any letters from Princess Celestia today? ‘Cause I’m not sure I can take it…”

“Nope!” Twilight replied simply. “I have one to send, but I guess it can wait until tonight.”

Spike felt as though he had been granted reprieve from the hangpony’s noose, temporary though it was. He exhaled and not-quite-melted into the stairs. “Whew, thanks. How come you’re so chipper though?”

“Me?” Twilight flapped her wings. “Chipper?”

Spike harumphed. “Somepony might hoof you in the face if you go around town like that, even if you are a princess. You’re practically glowing, and since light means more heat...do you see where I’m going with this?”

Twilight looked herself over as if checking for an actual glow. “Well...alright, maybe I am. But can you blame me? I mean we’ve sorted two-thousand three hundred and forty-one books since Thursday! That’s our best since...about two weeks ago!”

Spike spun one talon in the air. “Whoop-de-doo, I’m so excited I might die.” He paused. “No really, I might actually die.”

Twilight huffed out an unpleasantly hot breath. “Oh fine, Mister Grumpy Scales. Here.” She began to beat her wings in Spike’s direction, scaring up a breeze. “Better?”

“Ahhh…” Spike moaned nigh-orgasmically, rolling again to his back in order to catch the brunt of the breeze. “Oh sweet Celestia I can die happy now…”

“It’s not that hot out you know,” Twilight observed. She remained there for nearly two minutes - a princess fanning her assistant - until her wingspurs began to tire. “Maybe I’m not used to anything but basic flying, but for some reason flapping your wings without going anywhere is tiring. Short version - I’m not doing this all day. Why don’t you go get some ice cream?”

Spike was lounging, taking full advantage of royal attention with his talons laced together over his stomach. “You made me promise not to have any more this week after the, uh...thing at the market the other day.”

Twilight shivered as images of whipped cream, sprinkles, and Pinkie Pie danced through her head that she would sooner have opted to unsee. “I did, didn’t I.”

Spike brightened and sat up. “You forgot? Does that mean I can--”

“No!” Twilight held out a foreleg, eyes wide...and took a breath instead, placing the hoof over her chest. “I mean, no. Why don’t you, umm…” a lightbulb went off somewhere behind her eyes, “...swim! How about you go take a dip? We’re done for the afternoon and I bet everypony will be there!”

Spike blinked. As if on a timed delay, a grin slowly parted the horizon of his cheeks like the rising sun. “Hey...why didn’t I think of that!? It’s perfect!” He was up in a flash. “It’s really okay?”

Twilight folded her wings and smiled warmly. “Oh sure it is. I’ve still got a little sorting I want to do, but I can handle it on my own. Go have fun. You earned it.”

Spike didn’t spare a thought for any of this pool toys, lest he have to brave the ‘Broiler of Friendship’ in order to obtain them. Instead he chose to beat a quick retreat to the swimming hole, and was off in a flash.

“Hey!” Twilight called. “I mean it about the ice cream! Especially if Pinkie Pie is around!”

“Right, right,” Spiked waved back. “Have ice cream with Pinkie Pie! Gotcha!”

“No ice cream!” The easily riled by wordplay princess shouted. “No Pinkie Pie! I am not cleaning all that up again!”

Filled with renewed vigor, Spike scampered away with a mischievous giggle on his lips.

* * * * *

Cascading sunlight reflected from the clear waters of Ponyville’s public swimming hole. They glittered in the eyes of the fast approaching dragon, like a hoard of cool blue sapphires patiently awaiting him. Granted temporary immunity to the scorching afternoon by the promise of relief, Spike bellowed the name of an ancient Native-Equestrian war chief and launched himself from the shore into a proper cannonball, intent upon displacing as much water as his little body could manage in all directions upon hapless ponies.

With his proud draconic crest piercing the water like a prowling shark fin, Spike quickly resurfaced, striking a pose and gleefully spitting out a gout of water like a Canterlot fountain statue.

“Ha, ha, I got you all!” Spike squealed. “Bet you didn’t see that one com--”

The dragon paused when he realized that he was not, in fact, surrounded by the myriad ponies he spied while still on his sortie. The space around him was quite deserted, as though the waters had congealed into a defensive moat the moment they had accepted him. A quick review of his surroundings showed the many ponies had not been a mirage. Some were waving and offering him greeting, but none ventured within splashing distance. Spike returned the greetings, but his crest drooped slightly.

“Aw, dangit...how’d I miss ‘em all like that…”

He batted at the water again, this time with annoyance, and a yelp drew his attention. Before he could identify the source of the sound, he found himself uttering it, as a wall of water twice his height smashed into him, knocking him nearly prone. When he again resurfaced, his gags were met by a pair of high-pitched voices.

“Hah! This time I got you!”

“Geez Scootaloo, not so hard. You’re gonna drown poor Spike! He’s just a little thing y’know.”

“Aw, he can take it as well as he dishes it out.”

“Maybe so, but you’re a pony an’ he’s a dragon. You got a meaner buck than he does!”

“Wh-who’s little!” Spike sputtered, rubbing at his eyes. “I’m totally ferocious and I’m the best splasher around!”

“Yeah? Tell that to my sister,” one of the voices replied. “Buck enough apples for a livin’ and you’ll be bucking water like a pony polo champ, too!”

Spike blinked hard, and at length two ponies near to his own size came into view. He brightened in recognition. “Oh, Scootaloo. Apple Bloom. Heya.”

Scootaloo, who was submerged to her neck in the water, tilted her head and batted her amethyst eyes with concern. “Heya yourself. Sorry about that. Guess I got a little carried away.”

Spike puffed up his chest proudly and waved off the apology. “Nah, it’ll take more than that to stop a dragon! I just fell over to encourage you! It was a pretty good try, after all. Hate to ruin it.”

“Uh-huh,” Scootaloo muttered without conviction. “I’m gonna apologize anyway.”

“And how you got carried away!” Apple Bloom, floating in a small inner tube with goggles strapped to her forehead, interjected. “What got your dander up like that, Scoots?”

Scootaloo added her stubby wings to the work her legs were doing treading water. “It’s just that everypony moved all the sudden when Spike jumped in. I thought he wanted a good splash war so I tried to be like all of them.”

Apple Boom rotated her floaty enough to peer at the merriment of the other ponies. “Come to think of it, they sure did, didn’t they? You think they just didn’t wanna get splashed that bad? Kinda silly when you’re already swimmin’...”

Spike found a rock under the water, stood on it, and shrugged. “Eh, it’s not that. They’re just giving me a wide berth because it’s really hot out today and I breathe fire.”

The fillies paused, and an uneasy glance passed between them. Spike offered no explanation to break up the awkward moment, so Apple Bloom finally ventured to question him.

“...ain’t that kinda mean?”

“Psh, nah,” Spike insisted, “I get it. It’s hot out and they don’t want to be around a dragon that could just make it hotter.”

Scootaloo looked unconvinced. “Could being the keyword there. Do you breathe fire all the time?”

“Of course not,” Spike said, proudly fielding the easy question. “That would be silly!”

Apple Bloom pressed her friend’s point. “Do you breathe fire on ponies?”

“Huh?” Spike was taken aback. “No! I would never do that!”

Scootaloo didn’t let up. “Then why would anypony avoid you on a hot day?”

Spiked opened his mouth, closed it again, and stopped to think. “I...uh…” He let out another snort, “I-I’m sure they don’t mean anything by it. It’s not like they aren’t nice to me.” To prove his point, Spike sought out a group of youngsters and waved gregariously at them until they finally smiled and waved back. “There, see?”

Apple Bloom folded her forelegs and reclined in her inner tube like her old granny on a rocker. “Be that as it may, it still ain’t very nice. You ain’t sick or nothin’, and it’s not like there’s a hot aura brewin’ around you all the time.”

Scootaloo was still paddling with her wings. She reached a hoof up to scratch uncomfortably at the back of her neck. “Yeah, I mean, if they call themselves your friends, that’s...kinda awful.”

Finding himself with no reply, Spike allowed another tense silence to ensue. He broke it up only when he began to fear the fillies would catch on to the the true motivation behind his vehement dismissal of their points. He sought to change the subject.

“Hey, where’s Sweetie Belle? Isn’t she pretty much always with you guys?”

The fillies exchanged another uneasy glance, as the very water around them grew still. This time, Scootaloo broke the silence up.

“Oh...you know. She’s not really...big on swimming.”

“Yeah, uh,” Apple Bloom blundered, “it ain’t like she can’t swim, just...it ain’t so much her thing, yanno?”

Spike didn’t buy the new story any more than the fillies had bought his. “I’ve seen her swimming with you two before. She laughs louder than the both of you put together.”

“Uh, well, sure but, about that…” Scootaloo muttered, breaking eye contact. “Sh-she does like swimming but...she doesn’t, uh...like to go swimming...uh…”

“With other ponies!” Apple Bloom saved. “She doesn’t like swimmin’ around other ponies. Just us.”

“Why not?” Spike plodded on obliviously. “It’s not like the whole town is here. There’s plenty of room in the water if that’s what she’s worried about.”

“It’s...you know,” Scootaloo’s neck-scratching intensified. “She’s...uncomfortable. Embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed about what?”

Apple Bloom grunted, the indirect communication disagreeing with her Apple family nature. “Y’all know ‘about what’! She ain’t comfortable in big groups ‘cause of her...her thing she’s got! Especially in groups where y’might be touchin’ other ponies a lot, like in a pool!”

Curiously, Spike found himself rising to meet Apple Bloom’s outburst rather than shying away from it. “Wait, that again?” I thought we’d all been through that with her. Nopony cares about all that!”

“I don’t care,” Apple Bloom returned, “an’ you don’t care, and ain’t nopony else cares, but--”

“But Sweetie Belle cares,” Scootaloo finished the thought. “Everypony goes to school or trots down the street just like she does, and we’ve both talked to her about it, but she’s still the way she is about the whole thing. She doesn’t wanna come here today and we can’t make her, so...so…”

Apple Bloom fidgeted, birthing ripples in the water around her tube. “So that’s just how it is.”

Spike furrowed his brow. “Do you really think she doesn’t want to be here?”

A lack of response from either crusader softened Spike, who abandoned his interrogation. An uncomfortable question came to him, but he uttered it anyway.

“Don’t you three usually hang out together when one if you is blue?”

Guilt bloomed upon the faces of both crusaders until it threatened to wilt their coats. Apple Bloom completed an entire 360-degree, lazy spin in her tube before she dared to speak.

“We do, but well...there comes a time where y’know that nothing you’re sayin’ is changing a thing, and you just...don’t wanna keep sayin’ it.”

“When it comes to this,” Scootaloo added, “there’s just no getting through to Sweetie Belle. Of course we care about her, but you say things, and then you say more things, the same things over and over, and you just don’t get anywhere, and you don’t wanna feel all down and out anymore, and...uh…”

Apple Bloom ended her friend’s babbling. “It’s like this, Spike. If Twilight suddenly forgot how to read tomorrow, would you think any less of her?”

“Uh, no?” Spike replied as though the answer were obvious. “Of course not, why would I ever think that?”

“Right, a’course you wouldn’t. She’d still be Twilight to you an’ to everypony else who cares about her, so it wouldn’t be a big deal to you, right?”

“Right!”

“But how do you think she’d feel?”

Spike faltered. “It would be...rough, sure, but I’d totally support her and make sure she knows that it’s okay, and everypony understands.”

“An’ if she started acting afraid of being around ponies who were reading, and nothin’ you said could ever change her mind, and she kept insisting she’s weird...then what?”

“I…”

Scootaloo was looking away. “We love Sweetie Belle and we’d do anything for her. But never making any progress just...it gets frustrating.”

“An’ sometimes you gotta...do somethin’ else for awhile,” Apple Bloom added somberly.

Spike thought he understood that. The water was inviting, but he pulled himself up on the shore anyway and stood with purpose.

“I’m gonna talk to her.”

Apple Bloom held up a hoof. “I ain’t so sure that’s a good idea, Spike. We sat with her for an hour an’ it still didn’t do no good. She’s just gotta work this out for herself.”

Scootaloo was poking aimlessly at the water’s surface, looking as though the sun were an interrogation light. “Yeah, I mean, unless you can really say that you know what it’s like, everything comes off to her as ‘you wouldn’t understand’.”

Apple Bloom brightened. “Just take a load off an’ enjoy the water. When she works her head out she’ll come out from them bushes over there and everything will be comin’ up apples again.”

“Apple Bloom!” Scootaloo scolded. “Ix-nay on the atching-way from the, uh...line...sides...ay!”

“What?”

“Don’t tell anypony that Sweetie Belle is watching us all swim from the bushes!”

“...seriously?” Spike huffed. He squared his shoulders, and undaunted by the pussyhoofing of his companions, marched out of earshot.

* * * * *

There were only so many thick stands of flora around the Ponyville swimming hole sufficient to completely conceal a filly from view. Spike checked several of them without success, wagering that he either had horrible luck, or his quarry was avoiding him. He had never quite figured out how his ears stacked up to those of a pony, but the sound of rustling leaves during his sixth search told him that his problem wasn’t related to luck. The jig was up, and he called out his target’s name in order to bring it to an end.

There, at the center of a clearing in a particularly large thicket, sat Sweetie Belle. She was blowing pensively on a blossom from a lilac bush just to watch it flutter in place. Her appearance, however, was more of note to Spike than her activities. Her hips and cutie mark were completely obscured by a tight, uncomfortable looking pair of black gym shorts with a royal blue speed line running up either side.

Spike emerged from the brush and stood dumbly in the clearing, feeling like a dog who had caught the carriage he was chasing and now didn’t know what to do with it. “Uh...hi.”

“Hi.”

“How’s it...going?”

“Eh,” Sweetie Belle muttered without making eye contact.

“That flower looks...stuck there pretty good. Guess that’s a big job, huh.”

“Sure is,” Sweetie Belle replied between lazy puffs.

Spike was losing his patience, primarily because the filly was rubbing his sensitive work ethic the wrong way by not taking her task seriously, regardless of how inconsequential it was. He stepped further into the clearing and spread his arms at the scene before him.

“Come on, what are you doing in here? It’s like the whole town got magicked into a volcano today. Come take a dip with us and cool off.”

“I’m not hot,” Sweetie Belle replied dismissively.

“I can see you sweating. You are too hot.”

Sweetie Belle took to batting at the blossom with a hoof instead of blowing on it. She looked down and began to make a show out of examining the dry dirt. “I just don’t want to go swimming today, okay?”

Spike was not deterred. “But you’re wearing swim trunks.”

“They’re not swim trunks,” the young unicorn insisted. “They’re gym shorts.”

“Po-tay-toe, po-tah-toe,” Spike replied. “You’ve still got them on, and school’s out for summer. Plus those are cut for a colt.”

The wheels began turning in Sweetie Belle’s head. “Uh...didn’t you know? Colt gym shorts are the latest fashion trend!”

“...colt gym shorts.”

“Yes…?”

“...are a fashion trend.”

“Yes…!”

“...for filles.”

“A-absolutely!” Sweetie Belle sputtered, finally turning to meet the gaze of her verbal jousting partner. “I should know! With a big sister like mine, I totally have my hoof on the pulse of the fashion industry!”

Spike came closer. “You know, you’re my friend. And as my friend, I have an obligation to tell you that you’re a really bad liar.”

Sweetie Belle took a deep breath in preparation to argue further, but found that she couldn’t come up with any more excuses. She deflated, her ears drooping. “I told Apple Bloom and Scootaloo to stop wasting their afternoon and go have fun. You should too. It’s hot out.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Spike retorted sardonically. With a stubbornness borne of his species, Spike plopped down into a sitting position and folded his arms tighter. “Not going anywhere.”

“Wh-why not?”

“‘I don’t wanna go swimming’,” Spike recited.

“S-sure you do!”

“So do you.”

“No I don’t!”

“Well then neither do I,” Spike insisted. “If it’s okay for you it’s okay for me too, right?”

“I don’t wanna ruin your afternoon!” Sweetie Belle blurted.

“Then go swimming with me.”

“Ohh!” Sweetie Belle darkened with frustration and hopelessness for her cause. “Why do you always have to be so stubborn!”

Spike grinned and rolled his eyes skyward to appreciate the imaginary halo hovering above his crest. “Have you ever tried to move a sleeping dragon? Besides, you have to be stubborn when you’re a princess-assistant. Twilight would never come out of the library if it weren’t for me!”

Sweetie Belle did her best, but ultimately failed to stifle a giggle. “Is she really that bad?”

“Tch, are you kidding?” Spike puffed up proudly. “She’d never be on time for anything if it wasn’t for me. She wouldn’t even get out of bed on time!”

“I heard you sleep like you’re under a spell,” Sweetie Belle childed.

“Yeah well...fine maybe not that part, but you gotta be stubborn when your friends forget to eat or sleep because books.” He softened. “Or when they don’t do something they wanna do because they’re stuck inside their own heads.”

Sweetie Belle’s smile evaporated as quickly as it had come. Her cheeks flushed and she took her eyes off her friend. “It’s not in my head. It’s between my legs. I’ve seen the way some ponies look at me.”

“Ponies aren’t looking at you--”

“Yes they are!” Sweetie Belle snapped. “See? This is just what I mean when I tell Apple Bloom and Scootaloo that they don’t really get it!” She paused to take a calming breath. “And I’m not trying to be mean to them, it’s just...I’m the one who has this...thing...and so it’s natural that I’m gonna notice ponies staring more. They’re all nice to me in public, and I know my sister and my friends care about me, but...they don’t see the glances or hear the comments from ponies who don’t think I saw or heard them.”

“Well, so what if ponies are looking at you?” Spiked replied. “If anypony is going to be like that, what good is their opinion anyway? Just ignore it.”

Sweetie Belle shrank. “That’s easy to say when it’s not you they’re looking at and talking about.” She glanced down at her shorts. “I don’t even know if I’m a filly or a colt sometimes…”

“That’s just silly,” Spike rhymed. “You’re totally a filly!”

“Are you sure?”

“Sure I’m sure. You walk like a filly, sound like a filly, you’ve got, um...eyelashes like a filly…” ideas began to fail him, “...you have a filly name, uh…”

Sweetie Belle sighed and flopped onto her stomach, her chin in the dirt. She raised a foreleg and pointed behind her at her shorts. “Then how do you explain what’s under here, huh?”

Spike scratched the side of his head and searched for the right thing to say. “Everypony’s a little different…”

“But I don’t want to be different!” Sweetie Belle wailed. She smacked the dirt with a hoof and sent up a cloud of dry dust, which invaded her snout and made her sneeze so hard she sat back up. “It’s weird! Ponies don’t know what to make of me and I just wanna be normal!”

Spike didn’t know what to say. So he said the first thing that came to his mind.

“Welcome to my world.”

Sweetie Belle paused in the middle of a melodramatic gesture and glanced at the dragon out of the corner of her eye. “Huh?”

Spike shook his head. “There’s no such thing as normal. Scootaloo is a pegasus who can’t fly. Silver Spoon can’t see without her glasses. Apple Bloom talks kinda funny, and sometimes I wonder if Vinyl Scratch can even talk at all.”

Sweetie Belle began twiddling her hooves. “Those...that’s not the same thing…”

Spike threw his arms wide. “I’m a dragon.”

“So?”

Spike got to his feet and began pacing in a small circle as he spoke. “I’m the only dragon. The only one in Ponyville, Canterlot, Manehattan, Appleoosa, or just about anywhere else in Equestria. I walk on two legs, pick up stuff with claws, am covered in scales, and I can make fire come out of my mouth. Without magic. I also barf and it counts as a delivery service.”

Sweetie Belle let another tiny giggle fly. “But that’s not weird, Spike. All that is just who you are!”

Spike stopped, folded his arms, and fixed Sweetie Belle with a knowing stare. The unicorn faltered.

“I mean...but...y-you’re a dragon so all of that is normal for you...I’m a filly and I’m not supposed to have a...you know…”

“Dragons have wings,” Spiked replied. “I don’t have wings. Dragons are big and ferocious...well, most of them are. I’m not. But you know what I do have in common with other dragons?” He stepped to the edge of the thicket and brushed back the flora of another lilac bush to expose the score of ponies having fun at the swimming hole. “Dragons equal fire. In my case, that means ponies avoid me on hot days.”

“But you don’t breathe fire all the time,” Sweetie Belle pointed out, much as her friends had done earlier.

“Doesn’t matter,” Spike let go of the bush. “Dragon equals fire.”

Sweetie Belle touched a hoof to her chin. “I-I’m sure they don’t mean anything by it…”

“Of course they don’t,” Spike agreed. “But they’re gonna keep doing it anyway. They don’t even realize they’re doing it.”

“They still accept you for who you are though.”

“Yep,” Spike nodded. “So even if they do glance now and then, how many times do they need to actually tell you that same thing before you’ll believe it?”

“But...it’s...I…”

“Ponies look at stuff that’s a little different from what they’re used to, that’s all.” Spike pushed the thicket back again to expose the inviting waters, “It’s hot today. Let’s go swimming.”

Sweetie Belle wore a somber smile. “Can we just...talk for a little while first?”

“Sure!” Spike plopped down and patted the spot next to him, which Sweetie Belle occupied with a curling of her tail around her flank. “Whattaya wanna talk about?”

“It...doesn’t matter,” the young unicorn replied. She paused for a time to enjoy the sweet melody of afternoon locusts. “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“Say all that again to me later if I look like I need it, okay?”

“You bet.”

“...hey.”

“Yeah?” Spike replied again.

“What do you think? Am I a filly or not?”

Spike picked one of the lilac sprigs and stood long enough to arrange it in Sweetie Belle’s mane, just behind her ear. “You’re totally a filly. Dragon’s honor on that. Always trust a dragon when he puts his honor on something. It’s a dragon code thing.”

On a scorching August afternoon, a young filly and an infantile dragon chose conversation over a refreshing dip. They sat together until Celestia’s grace had nearly disappeared beyond the horizon.