The small wood door creaked as Night Strike opened it up, looking back towards Parchment. For her part, she was quite busy getting very well acquainted with the ground, following that harrowing cart ride and all. The pegasus just let off a sigh, giving her head a shake at the sight of the earth pony kissing a pile of rocks. “Hey, Bravo, come on. You wanna get your stuff back, don’t you? Can’t spend all day french kissing your new coltfriend, yanno.”

The earth pony didn’t respond at first, still preoccupied hugging the dirt, but eventually her senses came back to her. A weak chuckle escaped her lips as she trotted herself over to the pegasus, one hoof rubbing at the back of her head. “H-hey, don’t blame me for liking good solid earth under my hooves! I’m not a pegasus yanno, earth ponies aren’t supposed to be hundreds of meters in the air!” Night Strike could only roll her eyes at that – sure, not like you haven’t experienced it before ya dumb blimp. Do seem to wind up floating up there more often than not. They both passed through the small wooden doorway on the far edge of the tall wall that sealed off the cave, Parchment giving it a cursory glance as they passed over the threshold. “So, uh, this friend of yours, they got some real weird choices of decor… and living location.”

“Well, he can’t really live in town. Noise complaints and all… oh, uh, you might wanna cover your ears, by the way.” The pegasus trotted forwards a bit in the cave, hearing some gentle humming echoing in from the far end. Giving one last glance back to Parchment, the earth pony seemed to just be fidgeting awkwardly on her hooves, rather than heeding the advice. Night Strike passed on a stern look. “I mean it. Come on.” Parchment let off a small sigh, sitting back on her haunches and lifting her forehooves to her ears.

Passing on a nod, Night Strike gave her wings a few heavy flaps, taking off and hovering up near the center of the cave. “Hey Hylund! It’s Night Strike, we need your help with something!” There was a moment’s pause, before the shuffling of fabric and rather loud parps could be heard echoing off the rock walls. Parchment winced with each one, driving her hooves as far into her ears as she could, trying to deafen the noise. When she finally did open her eyes again, after the parping had come to most of a stop…

“Ah, nice to see you around again, lass. Was just gettin’ set for bed here, what’s the trouble?” Hylund rested back on his tail, his massive plaid gut plain for the earth pony to see below. What she was much more focused on, however, was just how draconic his face was, even despite the strange rings on his joints and patterned red hat. Somehow, her coat took on a brand new shade of white, too frozen by fear and awake from the adrenaline to run away or faint, even as the massive dragon walked, or, waddled closer. The blood pounding in her ears at least made the errant parps quieted enough to be bearable, even as he let himself roll forwards on his gut to be able to cover Parchment with his hands.

The old dragon concentrated for a long moment, a faint glow emanating from the tent made with his claws as he studied Parchment. Eventually, he finished his study, giving a hefty grunt as he rolled himself back upright, rubbing at his back slightly. Giving occasional glances to the paralyzed earth pony, he moved himself back over to where Night Strike was hovering, lifting a hand to hide his words some. “So… good news, and bad news. Good news is, aye, your friend’s all cursed alright. Bad news… well, this is the friend ye told me about before, aye? The one that owns that paper mill, ogles at other mares?”

Night Strike gave a nod in response, Hylund letting off a small sigh. “Yeah, this curse was put on ‘im by a mare he went after, one o’ those ancient ‘learn yer lesson’ curses from the old fairy tale books. Problem is, from what ye’ve told me, this one don’t learn his lessons too readily, does he?”

The dawning realization drew a groan and facehoof from Night Strike, still hovering idly in the calm air of the cave. Of course it’d be one of those, wouldn’t it? Well… crap. Drawing in a breath, she looked over to where Parchment was still sitting, still with her eyes frozen up at Hylund. “Well, is there anything you can do for him in the meantime? Was this put on recently, like today? Maybe we can find who did this, or something.”

The old plaid dragon let off a small chuckle, giving his head a shake. “Nae, this curse’s been on ‘im for a fair while, also is one o’ those with a trigger phrase, an’ all. All ye need do is say his name, full name, three times to get it to trigger, and same fer going back to how he’s now. Trigger name then is ‘Pretty Paper’.”

…oh. Well, that was… surprisingly more simple than she’d expected. The pegasus looked back over to Parchment, biting at her lip a bit. “Well, okay, but can you just remove it, maybe? Or… what?” Simple as it is, they came here to get this curse taken off, not just told how to fix it.

A smirk came to the old dragon’s muzzle, adjusting himself with a small series of parps. “Aye, I could, most likely. Though, forgive if the draconequus in me speaks up fer a bit… why not leave it as-is? I’m a scot dragoon of principles, not gonna give a pony like ‘im an easy out when he’s got it in his power to get it off.” That… okay, yeah, even Night Strike had to admit that was fair. At least she did know how to change him back now all the same. “Besides, an extra bit o’ leverage over ‘im whenever he’s gettin’ on your nerves wouldn’t hurt, would it?”

A small grin came to Night Strike’s muzzle as she thought on the implications. Definitely would make getting him to scram whenever she’s trying to do her job easier… And there’s always going around his house at night and messing with him there, too. Her eyes met Hylund’s, a grin already on his face. “I knew there’re a few good reasons why we’re friends. But, well, we can’t really tell him that you can’t do anything, either. Trust me, I don’t think I’m getting him back on the TOPHAT to head home.”

The old dragon turned attention back to the earth pony sitting in his entrance hallway, the grin still held on his muzzle as his eyes gained a small hint of deviousness to them. He drew in a breath, feeling his own body swelling from the fresh air entering it, Night Strike catching sight and getting a faint idea of what he had planned. “Just leave that to me, lass…”