Guilt washed all over the purple dragon's scaly body. What had he done? Sparx had warned him. You'll be hurt, he had said. You'll be killed. Spyro hadn't realized that what his dragonfly friend had meant was, I'm getting hurt, or, I'm being killed. Thinking back on all the times he'd been damaged… from yellow to blue to green... A tear glistened off of Spyro's cheek.

From yellow to blue to green to gone. Why hadn't he mentioned it? Was he suicidal? Did he think Spyro wouldn't care? The young dragon snorted, and stamped on the ground once, and beat his wings once, then simmered. His companion was gone. He was alone now.

How could he have let this happen? Surely he should've figured it out by now… From yellow… to blue to green, to blue, to green, to blue, to yellow, to blue and green and gone...

He should've said something, Spyro thought angrily. I didn't know that I was hurting him, that he was protecting me. I was killing him.

From blue to green to gone…

Frustrated, angry at being abandoned, Spyro ran as fast as he could, his head down, ready to ram into a wall a hundred times to clear his head of what he'd failed to notice.

From blue to green…

There were some sheep in the way. Spyro flipped over, growled, suddenly ready to turn on the sheep, like it was their fault. He charged into their flock.

From green… to gone…

He smashed into one of them head one. There was a mildly irritated bleat, and then the sheep's fleece evaporated.

To… green.

Suddenly Sparx was right next to him, buzzing complacently. Spyro blinked back tears.

"Sparx?" he said quietly. Sparx flitted by his ear, tickling the inside of his ears with his wings.

"…Oh." Spyro laughed a little, embarrassed. "Nice to have you back, buddy."