The wind whistled past the great wooden door that blocked off the cave, a lone pegasus mare landing in front of the much smaller, pony-sized door to it’s side. The hinges creaked as it opened and then shut behind her, her tired eyes looking about the cave in a slightly erratic manner. “H-Hylund, are you here? It’s, uh, it’s Night Strike, I…”
 
She trailed off as the familiar parping echoed from deeper inside the cave, the sound of swishing fabric accompanying it as the old plaid-patterned dragon stretched and waddled over to the entrance. He rubbed at his eyes with one claw, glancing at the relatively massive clock hanging from one of the cave walls. “Mmh, not that I mind visits, lass, but it’s awfully late, innit? What has ye commin’ o’er to me at this hour?” He blunk a couple times as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the entrance, finally looking down at his visitor. He leaned in closer, noticing the gentle shaking of her hooves, those distinct streaks on her cheeks, and that slightly stuttered breathing - definitely not just from the flight over. “Night Strike, what’s wrong?”
 
She tried to take a moment to calm herself, shutting her eyes only drawing some fresh tears out as her head slumped forwards. Not saying a word, the old dragon lowered one of his hands to the cave floor, the pegasus climbing up onto it and taking one of his fingers in a hug. Careful to not jumble her too much, Hylund began to waddle back towards the living area of the cave, no small hint of concern on his face as he felt the tears wetting his finger. Night Strike was one of the braver ponies he knew - whatever it was that spooked her, it must’ve been something really serious.
 
He sat himself down in a small alcove, a long descending parp accompanying his slight adjustment in size, as to be able to better see eye to eye with the young pegasus. She moved to laying upon his stomach as his hand grew too small to sit on, her crying having quieted down some as her hooves squeezed the soft, air-cushioned fabric. Thinking for a moment, the old dragon reached one hand up underneath his hat, drawing a decently large mass of fabric out and giving it a slight shake and squeeze. Normally doing that would’ve produced some puffy padding for an eager pony, but in this case, just some not-fully-magic cushioning would do. The dark blue, patterned mass swelled up into a small cushion, landing with an airy whump as he tossed it opposite himself, looking down to the pegasus with a gentle grin. “Take what time ye need, when you’re ready t’ tell me about it, can just take yer seat over there. I’m all ears, lass.”
 
Night Strike sniffled through her runny muzzle, rubbing at her eyes with a foreleg as she sat herself up on Hylund’s large belly. She let off a small sigh, turning around to have a look at her seat. A small, dry chuckle sputtered out from between her lips, her gaze turning back to the dragon as she pointed a hoof towards the fairly familiarly-colored inflated fabric. “D-did you really have t-to make it personalized plaid?”
 
Hylund let off a small parp as he rested both hands on the sides of his body, wearing a light smirk on his muzzle. “Oh, my apologies princess, didn’t realize ye had such high standards. Ah, really though, my magic lets me do a lot, but it’s a little… let’s say ‘one-track’, if ye catch my drift. That one’s just a cushion for ye, won’t do anythin’ fancy. Should be plenty comfy to lay on, though.”
 
Night Strike looked back to the chair, her wings spreading and letting her hover over to it, as Hylund sat himself upright. The pegasus let herself fall to the plaid cushion with a small pomf, sinking into the cushy fabric a short ways before rebounding back, the bouncing slowing before too long as she just rested her forehooves on her chest, laying back. The old dragon gave a short nod, eyes looking down at the pegasus. “So, ye ready to let me know what had you so upset?”
 
The pegasus let off a small sigh, adjusting herself on the cushion, before turning her gaze back up to the dragon across from her. “Yeah, y-yeah… I… I was having this dream, or, nightmare would be more fitting I guess. I was… I dunno where I was, I just remember feeling this puffy cushy fabric squeezing me from all sides, just totally trapping me. Come to think, it kinda felt a bit like… this.” She rubbed a hoof against the cushion, a shiver running up her spine as she paused to calm herself. The old dragon let off a small grunt, thinking as she did - dreaming about being in a scot dragoon’s belly? That’s definitely different for her…
 
Eventually, Night Strike was able to calm herself enough to continue. “The… the thing was, I could hear a voice, echoing through the fabric, someone I didn’t know. They were like singing, and taunting at me I guess, and the worst part was… was…” Her face wrenched up again for a moment, before she managed to catch herself and continue. “Th-the music. It-it was bagpipes, like y-yours, but… it was just as loud as it was the first time I heard you. Even louder, maybe. I-I’d get u-used to the noise, and-and hear my tinnitus, b-but then it’d jus-just get even louder, and drown that out. I-I was s-so scared, so-so helpless, couldn’t think, I…”
 
She broke into tears again, rolling herself over to bury her muzzle into the cushion, Hylund gently rubbing his large belly in contemplation. For a pony like Night Strike, that’s definitely a nightmare if he’d ever heard one… perhaps he had actually stepped into her dream, after all. He watched over her as she calmed down from the latest burst of tears, eventually turning herself back over and looking up at him with reddened eyes. “B-but, then, I… I think I heard the music stop, and-and I… could’ve sworn, I heard you there, outside the fabric. I was just so, so happy to hear something that wasn’t the music, but… but…” She let her head drop, a shuddering breath leaving her. “Then there was one last, horribly loud parp, and I j-just woke up in a cold sweat. And, w-well… then I came here.”
 
Hylund passed on a slow, gentle nod, easing back against his thick tail to think. Almost did it, you old fat windbag, just weren’t quite quick enough on defusing it before it got too bad for her. Definitely gotta get to sleep earlier… Night Strike let off a small cough, drawing Hylund’s attention. “It… uh… are there really more bagpipe dragons, like you around? I mean, real ones, not-not ones that are actually ponies, or whatever. Do… do I…”
 
“Night Strike, what ye had was definitely a nightmare, won’t argue that. But, that’s just it - it was just a nightmare. You’re safe now, and ye always will be, long as I’m around. Believe me, I’m not plannin’ on going anywhere anytime soon, either.” Hylund passed on a reassuring grin, leaning over his belly to better see Night Strike. She rubbed a hoof at her eyes, sniffling idly - but she was calming down. A sigh escaped Hylund as the smile faded slightly, adjusting his tail about. “There are more pureblood Scot Dragoons out there, aye. Might be half instrument, but the other half is dragon, and dragons don’t tend to be the nicest folks at the best of times. Not all are like me, just wanting to settle down somewhere, make a few true friends and all.”
 
He moved himself to roll forwards, coming in close to Night Strike, the grin returning to his muzzle. “But, like I said, as long as I’m around, you’ll always be safe. I promise I won’t let any other scot dragoon even try and scare ye, and if ye have that nightmare again, I’ll be right there to get ye out before too long. Bagpipe dragon’s honor.”
 
The pegasus sniffled as she watched Hylund sitting himself back upright, resting his hands on his large belly once more. She pushed up from the cushion, spreading her wings and hovering back over to the old dragon, her forehooves spreading wide as she let herself drop onto his belly, embracing it in a hug. While she wasn’t completely sure what he meant by that bit about being there for her if the nightmare comes around again, well, it was definitely something she needed to hear all the same. She felt one of his hands reach over to gently rest on her back, fingers gently rubbing the back of her head, a sigh escaping her.
 
“Thank you, Hylund.”