Smolder: [to Spike] If you're trying to hide, you need to do a better job. All I had to do was follow the smoke.
Spike: [strained voice] Leave me alone...
Smolder: What?
Spike: [strained] Leave... me... alone...
Smolder: I can't under-- Was that "sleeves made of foam"?
Spike: [strained] I said leave [voice turns loud again] ME ALONE!
[He belches and blasts out flames, burning some brushes and mops to ashes and forcing Smolder to fly up to the ceiling]
Smolder: [laughs] Wow! I have seen some pretty bad molts in my time, but yours takes the cake!
Spike: Molts?
Smolder: The molt. Super painful stone scales, fire burps, uncontrollable volume shifts - it's all part of growing up dragon. Congrats! [slaps him on the back, making him groan in pain] Oh, sorry.
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