Spike, meanwhile, was a bit more annoyed than he was concerned. He was on her back, his arms folded onto his tummy. He took another tentative gaze at the sky: Still as gray as it was when they woke up in Ponyville this morning. He was mentally cursing at the thick curtain of wispy clouds doing a mighty fine job blocking any and all sunrays. Bit of a depressing scenery, really. And a smidge cold as well. His clattering jaw just had to remind him of those subnormal temperatures.