They're EVERYWHERE!

65536: 3

65536 nudges Luna again and follows it by licking her cheek. The pony stands up, quietly and carefully walks around the bed, unceremoniously scoops the drone with one foreleg, and carries it away back to the armchair he's been sitting in.

"Do you understand me?" he says.

65536 stares, fascinated by his fangs. Something keeps telling it that ponies shouldn't have those, so it reaches out to touch the pony's muzzle. The pony pushes its foreleg down, leaving 65536 with only one option - try the other foreleg.

Same result.

65536 bares its fangs to show the strange pony who frowns and narrows his eyes. The emotions surrounding him shift from wary curiosity to something much colder which makes the drone close its mouth lower its head. That way it might not get eaten or sent into the crusher.

It grunts, more spikes of pain boring through its head as memories surface. This time, thankfully, they're related to the workings of the hive so they don't completely knock 65536 out.

In fact, the pain stops rather quickly after the initial shock. Why?

It finds itself curled up against the pony's chest, his forelegs wrapped tightly around it. There's no explicit love to feed on, ambient or otherwise, but the contact is helping anyway.

So warm...

As the drone nuzzles the pony's neck, darkness envelops it. It quickly looks around, only for its muzzle to bump into something leathery. It pushes its head through the less dark hole above and twists its neck...

...to see that it's wrapped in the pony's wings, the material of which still needs identifying the drone way.

***

Sharp Biscuit squints at the changeling currently nibbling on his wing. It's not biting down per-se, always stopping once the leathery skin gives in even a little. He bites his lip to fight the tickling sensation.

"Last time this happened to me, a friend's foal was teething," he mutters to himself. The changeling looks at him and after a second of absence of any punishment it returns to its chewing, "Is it possible that you are something like a changeling version of a foal? The witnesses I talked to earlier did say the changelings they fought were bigger and aggressive. Though the corpses in the streets... most of them looked like you. Exactly like you, to be frank. Hmmm... ouch!" his wing twitches as this time the changeling's bite must have pierced the skin around the wingbone.

The changeling gasps and immediately starts licking the bleeding spot, leaving behind a green, quickly-hardening film which, after a moment, starts feeling cool and numb.

Experimentally, Sharp spreads his wing and folds it again on his back while the changeling watches.

"You're an enigma..."

"Enema..." mumbles the changeling. Sharp's eyes go wide.

"Few of the ponies said you could talk..."

"Yu-ku-tok?"

Sharp shakes his head. The changeling lets out what even he can identify as a disappointed sigh. In response, he scratches it behind the ear.

The tip of its tongue plops out of its mouth. Sharp can't help poking it. The second he does it, the changeling's eyes light up and it boops his nose with a chitter.

"A breakthrough," he mutters.

"Abrfroo-" the changeling tries to imitate him and after spitting all over itself it paws at its mouth.

Sharp smiles. The changeling does so too and, like before, it reaches for the side of his muzzle. This time he lets the creature touch him, namely his fang. It bares its own fangs again.