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Run, run, run. It was all he could think to do. What else could he do? The situation didn't really leave him a lot of avenues to explore. The situation he still wasn't entirely sure he knew how he got into.
There he was, just minding his own business in the fields near Sweet Apple Acres, trying to locate the individual who asked him to give them a hand with something (he wasn't told what), when three cape wearing, war crying, rope twirling baby ponies darted out of bushes and bore down on him. In that moment, Spike's flight reflex overthrew the rest of his instincts and he took off across the green.