Walking... and Walking... And Walking...
---- A Slow Trot Down Mane Street ----
---- An empty road seems the most-crowded in the black of night. ----
The howling wind rushed past Spike, nearly toppling the stack of parcels that were held tightly in both of his arms. He managed to keep his claws wrapped around the bulky baggage and steady himself. Small tremors ran up his thin muscles as he worked to maintain the balance that he had just acquired. “Hey, uh, Rarity?”
The tinkling bell voice of the unicorn answered him from someplace of to his left. “Yes, Spike?” His head twisted in a vain attempt to gaze upon the mare that he had quite the crush on, the grocery bags piling high enough in his arms to cancel any hope of seeing her. “Is there something wrong?”
“Nah, nothing’s wrong.” He shifted the bags slightly as he surreptitiously stepped closer to her. “I was just wondering something.” Allowing himself time to word his next question carefully, they walked in silence for a few moments before Spike broke its grasp that wrapped around them. “Why are we out shopping this late at night? On Nightmare Night?” Just then, he let out a jaw-cracking yawn and had to suppress the urge to drop whatever was in his claws to cover his mouth. After a sigh came from the pony to his side, he felt himself reeling. “Not that I have a problem with it! No problem here, not at all!”
The white pony simply shook her head and continued walking. “No, it’s not you, Spike. It’s me.” Instantly he felt an urge to go and comfort Rarity but the three ponies worth of bags in his arms hindered any attempt to do so, especially whenever the strong gusts of wind had decided that he hadn’t been blown about enough. “Careful now, Spikey-Wikey. I need these for the order I have tonight.” A blue glow enveloped the now-falling bags and dragon, picking them up to place them in an arrangement that would prevent any more dropping. Rarity made a satisfied sound and backed away. “There, all better.”
“Thanks.” He couldn’t entirely hide the displeasure that he felt when he was referred to by that name but the small amount of it that seeped through his mental filter was picked up by the wind and carried away.
“Not a problem at all, Spikey-Wikey.” Taking a moment of silence to formulate the tale in her head, Rarity took a deep breath before beginning. “Well, as I said I have an order to fill tonight, which is the entire purpose of our little outing to the market. It was an order that was placed today, in fact, right after I had returned from taking Sweetie and her friends around Ponyville so they could grab some candy like the other fillies. Though, to be fair I suppose they really wanted to go so they could show off the…er… wonderful costumes my sister made.” Rarity and Spike both shuddered as they recalled the poorly stitched clothing that all had an extra leg in the bottom, among other issues in fundamental design.
“Yeah, wonderful. So then what happened?”
“Well, the stallion that had come into the boutique had an odd sort of air about him. Surely you know what I mean.” He gave a small grunt of acquiescence around the bags that he struggled with in the wind. Rarity smiled and continued weaving her tale with a tone that grew more sinister by the minute. “He stepped up to me and my stars how uncouth he looked. However, I am not one to judge somepony based on how they appear, so I listened to his story.” Rarity’s voice dropped off for a few moments as she let the suspense build in the little dragon’s heart.
