Chapter 14

Spike's Motivation

Afternoon

~My mouth feels so heavy and stubborn. Talking's weird ... but maybe it wouldn't feel so weird if I did it more often. I mean, it's not like it's super hard. Just ... hard ... unnecessary, mostly, and I'm out of practice. Was I ever in practice? Oh well, here it goes.~

Spike focused on coordinating his lips ... and his tongue ... and his teeth ... and his jaws ... not to mention the mandatory airflow from his throat.

"T ... Tuuhhh ..."

~Wow, it's pretty complicated when you overthink it. Gotta respect my friends for doing this on a regular basis.~

"T-Teach ... Ssss ... Spike?" he forced out almost pleadingly.

Doc and Mr. Thicknose stared, stunned.

"Spike? I was not aware that you could speak!" Mr. Thicknose commented.

"Yes, yes, yes, he's been doing that a lot more often recently," Ducky replied. "I think our last encounter with Screech and Thud shook him up harder than ever, it did. This is the first time they've actually gotten their claws on us." She shuddered. "It's giving me horrible sleep stories already!"

Mr. Thicknose raised an eyebrow. "But didn't the incident occur today?

"That's the scariest part!" Ducky exclaimed. "I'm wide awake, and still having sleep stories! I just close my eyes, and I see the fast biters! ... I don't even have to close my eyes, sometimes!"

The thicknose winced. It pained him to see her in the throes of post traumatic stress.

"So, you want to learn how to defend yourself if something like this happens again?" Doc asked.

Ducky and Spike nodded vigorously.

"We can try to train you," stated Doc. "We can show you how to get stronger, tougher, faster, more clever, but we are four-footers. There's only so much we can teach a two-footer like you, Ducky."

Her face fell, before hope brightened her countenance, only to be replaced by a thousand yard stare in dread of what was to come.

"Oh, no, no, no!" Ducky exclaimed with the look of a lamb to the slaughter.

The others exchanged clueless glances.

"I think I know who can help me," she stated, holding her head in despair.

"Why is that a bad thing?" asked Littlefoot.

Ducky didn't hear him. She was too busy fixating on the discomfort that was to come. It didn't take Advanced Imagination for Littlefoot to figure out the source of her terror.

"Them?" he asked. "Are you serious?"

Cera laughed, catching their train of thought. "I love those two! They're totally nuts!

"I know, I know!" Ducky whimpered before steeling herself. "Oh well. I better head on over before sanity catches up with me. They might be my only chance at surviving a sharptooth."

"Assuming you survive them," Littlefoot added.

Ducky gave a nervous smile before walking away, chuckling hopelessly as she rubbed her shoulders, attempting to comfort herself.

"Hm ..." Doc grunted, deciding to follow up on Ducky later - any valley residents couldn't be that bad. "Let's begin."

Three hours later ...

~Phew! That training is some serious stuff! Time for a well-earned snack break.~

Spike proceeded to munch down a bush.

A ticked Doc watched him through narrowed eyes. This was Spike's eighteenth snack break ... if guzzling entire bushes qualified as 'snacking'. He'd even slipped into a nap after the first half an hour, at which point Littlefoot quietly excused himself to go find something that might help. Now, it looked like he was on the verge of a full-blown food coma.

The spiketail yawned. ~Y'know what? I think that's enough for one day. Time to wind down.~

"Half the time, I'm not even sure if he's payin' attention," Doc commented. "This ain't workin'."

"How about a new approach?" asked a returning Littlefoot.

Before Spike even noticed the young longneck, his food-attuned nose picked up a tantalising scent.

~WUZZAT?!~

The spiketail spun to face the young longneck as his lazy eyes shot open. Littlefoot could almost swear he saw the pupils dilating when they zeroed in on what he held with his tail.

Littlefoot raised the bountiful bundle of colourful berries curled within his tail. "Yup! Wild sweet bubbles! Your favourite! Had to ward off a pack of fast biters to get 'em. It was a short fight, though. After the first few attacks, they sniffed me and ran away shrieking. I think they picked up Red Claw's scent on my scales. Guess there are perks to having battled Red Claw."

Doc furrowed his brow. "Littlefoot ... do you mean to say that you left The Great Valley again?"

Littlefoot smiled guiltily. "Well ... yes. These sweet bubbles don't grow here, but it was a short trip. Besides, Red Claw's in no position to give us trouble. Figured we had an opportunity to leave the valley without worrying about him, so why not take it? Next time, I'll find tree sweets around here instead, honest!"

Doc shook his head. That kid couldn't help himself, could he?

The young longneck lay the sweet bubbles on a ledge too high for the spiketail to reach. Spike's purple eyes grew frantic at losing his next meal.

"Okay, Spike," Littlefoot began. "If you can get past me, these berries are yours."

Spike fixed his purple eyes on the longneck. Yup. The pupils were definitely changing. This time, they shrank like a sharptooth filtering everything from his perception: everything, except the prey, and that prey was Littlefoot.

The longneck gulped, eying his opponent's deadly tail. "Just ... try not to kill me, okay?"

Spike hardly heard him. There was only one thing on his mind.

~SWEEEEET BUUUUBBLES!~

Cera snorted. "I dunno what you're worried about. Even if you weren't years ahead of him, have you seen Spike? He moves like a- WHOOOAAAAH!"

Spike surged towards Littlefoot with preternatural speed. Dormant natural knack and combat-related memories combined in Spike's mind like an explosive chemical reaction. He'd seen Littlefoot, Cera and Chomper training. He honestly didn't know why they took so long to learn new techniques. Talking was hard. This was easy!

A shockwave cracked past all onlooker's ears as Littlefoot and Spike's tails met like lightning. Spike struck again, and again, and again, forcing Littlefoot back with every duck, weave and parry. It was all so coordinated, so familiar.

"He's using my moves!" Littlefoot exclaimed.

Spike had a literal 'short'coming, though: his tail wasn't long enough to match Littlefoot's reach, which gave the longneck just enough space to safely navigate the barrage.

"Okay, that's enough! Spike? SPIKE!"

~SWEEEEEEEEEEEET BUUUUUUUUUUBBLLES!~

Ooookaayy ... time to shut down, Littlefoot thought.

With split-second timing, he caught Spike's weapon with his prehensile tail. "Let's call it a day, pal."

Spike narrowed his eyes. Call it a day?! Without his sweet bubbles?! UNACCEPTABLE! The spiketail's face hardened with menacing resolve.

Their tails locked, Spike yanked Littlefoot with every ounce of his weight.

Littlefoot gasped. He was falling! Straight towards those deadly spikes on his friend's back!

At the last moment, Spike dove away with that unsettling, new speed of his, leaving Littlefoot to crash into the ground.

( ( FOOOOOM! ) )

Spike rushed to the cliff where Littlefoot stashed the sweet bubbles, slamming into it shoulder first. She dashed off as the stone collapsed in his place, less for self-preservation and more for the prize falling away from the cliff. He caught it in his jaws and surged out of the danger zone as boulders smashed after him.

The last stone fell. The dust cleared. There was Spike happily munching the exotic treat.

Littlefoot lay there, blinking in borderline catatonic shock as he watched the spiketail enjoying the spoils.

"Hmm," a shaken Mr. Thicknose hummed thoughtfully. "Spike's always been ... unique. He can talk, but he's chosen not to for the most part, until now. That means he thinks differently from most leafeaters. Maybe that unusual thinking process allows him to pick up skills just by watching. I've heard of such gifted individuals. Perhaps it only fully kicks in when he's motivated by food."

"Solid theory," Doc stated. "With some training, I'm sure he'll be doing it on command. Technique should come easy. Could work on his fitness, though ... and self-control."

Cera approached Littlefoot, her wry smile tainted with residual shock at Spike's performance. "Well, I did not see that coming. Too bad you got the painful end of Spike's new awesomeness, but better you than me I guess."

The fallen longneck did not respond.

She poked him with a toe. "Littlefoot? You dead?"

"Never ... never again ... will I use wild sweet bubbles," Littlefoot panted.

Next, we find out what Ducky's been doing in the meantime. Who are these mysterious mentors she fears so much?

Writing from Spike's perspective is a fun little treat. In his own, prehistoric way, Mr. Thicknose was theorising that Spike is a savant: an individual with developmental disadvantages, yet mind-bendingly gifted nonetheless. I wouldn't be surprised if he were a savant canonically. 'Through The Eyes of a Spiketail' reveals that he has a fundamentally different perspective from his friends, along with some unexplainable abilities (interestingly enough, he can sense green food in the form of 'singing', even noticing new forms of food from a great distance). 'Journey Through Mists' and 'The Big Freeze' reveal that he can talk, although he speaks so rarely that he is almost considered mute.

Thanks for reading!