Ritter von Hossenfeffer was a blackfeather gryphon from the far north, and he currently wished that like his pony neighbors, he could sweat. It was hot. His home, the Passerines, were a large snowy range located just beyond the Windswept Moor, and past the Winter Sea. In the summer, it was a place of forest and sea and wind. In the winter, it belonged to the ice. The sea would freeze, and one could walk from one coast to the other by foot.

He shook his feathers until he could feel the breeze on his skin, and stopped to admire the flowering trees, whose leaves had just started to turn a glorious autumn gold.

He had passed Canterlot just a few days earlier, and the road from The Mountain down to the little hamlet of Ponyville was vibrantly gold and red and white. He had unfortunately taken too much with him to fly, so he had resolved to the enjoy the walk if he could. Leather straps crossed his chest and legs to secure his pack, but left his wings free, for which he was currently grateful.

Walking was slow going, but if nothing else, being able to watch the turning leaves had been worth the inconvenience. Despite the ache in his talons. He took a deep breath. The autumn weather had just barely begun to put a crisp in the air, but to the gryphon, used to the cold mountains of his home, it seemed far too warm.

He had almost arrived. His eyes wandered to the apple orchard that lay before the town. The leaves on the trees were turning too. Orange, browns and reds assaulted his vision, some colors darker than the earth, and some so light and breezy that they seemed pink.

Autumn was fine, he supposed. Winter was better. Winter was a time of relative safety for him, a time for staying indoors, visiting nestmates and flockmembers and taking it easy. The winters in the north were too severe for hunting, so autumn was comforting. It signaled a long-awaited break for him. It had been a long time since he'd been home. Too long.

But winter wasn't quite here yet.

Past the small, pastel-colored houses, he could see dark green trees of the Everfree Forest. He tried to estimate its size, looking from one horizon to the other, and then clambering atop a small boulder to try again with a better view. He gave up shortly thereafter. The expanse of trees, trimmed back to make room for farms and houses, extended far beyond what the eye could see, far beyond sight on left or right. Ritter sighed, and made his way down from the hill. He wouldn't want to be late for his appointment, after all. Twelve o'clock sharp, the letter had said.

Very specifically. Several times.

He sniffed. The smell of freshly baked apple strudel drifted lazily on the crisp air, carried past him by a languorous, unlucky eastern wind.

My Faithful Student,

I was distraught upon receiving your last letter. I hate to lose even one of my little ponies, but all of Ponyville knows the Everfree Forest is very dangerous. No matter how much I wish it, I cannot make the whole world safe. I am saddened that you have lost so many in such quick succession to those wild woods.

I am troubled by more than just your sadness, though, my student. Those woods do not take so many so quickly. The ponies in Ponyville are not so careless, and would not wander near the treeline so often, especially now.

I suspect that there is something in the woods. Something new. Or something old that has been antagonized.

I have made arrangements for a hunter to be sent to Ponyville. He will arrive in a fortnight, at noon. I will leave it up to you to make arrangements for his stay, and to answer any questions he may have. I would ask you to offer your assistance, should he need it.

I'm sorry that I cannot handle this personally. Griffonia still sees the Crystal Empire as an outright annexation by Equestria, and an attempt to circumvent Griffonian claims. They do not accept that this Crystal Kingdom was there before them, and I cannot fault them. The Crystal Empire was gone for a thousand years, beyond the memory of any living gryphon.

Still, I did not expect negotiations to go on this long, but Ambassador Gerulf is being exceedingly truculent.

Have faith, my student. I know you are more than capable of handling this.

With love,

-Celestia

Twilight bit her lip. She read through the letter one last time before rolling up the parchment and placing it in the chest at the foot of her bed, which was already getting full of other, quite similar scrolls. She'd have to box them up and put them in the basement with the others before too long. She made a mental note to add that to tomorrow's checklist, which in turn jogged her memory towards more immediate concerns. She started towards the stairs.

"Spike! How is the tea coming along? Remember, he's a Gryphon, so no hay or flowers," she began, trotting down the stars, before her assistant yelled back.

"No hay or flowers or raw oats, I remember, I remember!"

Twilight giggled as she heard him harrumph to himself in the kitchen. Spike may be getting taller these days, but his temper is only getting shorter.

"Just checking, Spike. I want to make a good first impression today. You only get one chance, after all," she said, walking into the kitchen. It smelled divine in here. It always did, lately. Her mouth watered.

Spike was absently stirring a bowl of some kind of ambrosia, his long, sinuous tail flicking behind him. He still had to use a stool to reach the countertop, but his cooking skills were really starting to shine. "Yeah, yeah. It'll be done in a few minutes. Lemonapple tea, two buttered scones, and cherry pudding. I'm waiting for the pudding to set, if you want to wait in the front hall. He should be here pretty soon," he said as he grabbed a handful of cherries and began plopping them into the bowl.

"Alright then, Maestro, I'll leave you to your domain," she said, pausing for a moment to inhale more of that scent of apples and cherries. "Will you be joining us for refreshments later?"

Spike shook his head, adding a few more cherries. The bowl clacked as he stirred violently with a wooden spoon. "Rarity said she needed help gem hunting today, so I'll be heading to the Carousel Boutique after I'm done." It was hard to see with him facing the counter, but Twilight could make out the contours of a smile on his face.

"Well, have fun digging in the dirt, Romeo," Twilight grinned, dodging a nasty glare from her number one assistant. She made her way through the main hall of the library and then back up the stairs to where she and Spike ate. It was a small table in front of a round, sunlit window that looked out over the town, and the Everfree Forest in the distance.

She bit her lip and waited for a knock on the door.

"You said how many flavors of pie?"

The pink pony in front of him giggled and pointed to the glass case again. "Fifty! We've got cherry and chocolate and apple and peach and plum and blackberry and blackberrywithcream and creamwithblackberry and bubble truffle and double bubble truffle and roasted apple and lemon meringue and—"

"Apple. Apple first. One slice."

The pink pony nodded. "Apple is the best! Along with chocolate and cream and banana of course. My friend AJ grows all our apples on the farm just outside of town, so you know they're fresh and juicy and delicious!" she said, sliding one of the more delectable looking pies from the case and cutting the gryphon a nutmeg-sprinkled slice. One generous dollop of cream later, and she handed him one paper plate filled with a thoroughly delicious slice of pie.

"That'll be two bits! Shave and haircut not included," she said, vibrating slightly.

If Ritter noticed the joke, he gave no sign, rather staring with eagle-eyed intensity at the confection that lay just out of reach.

For the moment.

"Thank you. Very much." he said, passing her the money and grabbing the plate, and skittering quickly to the empty corner table to devour his prize. His eyes sparkled. His claws gleamed. He struck, cutting off a small piece and deftly stabbing it through. Like any good pie, the filling was thick enough that it didn't spill out the sides and onto the plate, despite the slightly rough treatment.

He raised his claw to his mouth and took a bite. The cloying sweetness of the cream mixed beautifully with the slight spice of the nutmeg and the tart sting of the apples. The crust was gorgeous, soft and pliant without being chewy. He might not agree with these ponies about much at all, but they certainly knew how to eat.

Well, eat dessert, anyway. Hay Fries still sounded like a nightmarish concept. He shook his head free of disturbing thoughts, and took a moment to pause and savor his small slice of heaven.

The door chimed. Another pony, pastel-orange with three apples on her flank walked inside, quickly approaching the counter. Ritter glanced at her briefly before turning his attention back to his pie.

"Pinkie, I'm here about Mr. Cake's payment he sent yesterday." she said, adjusting her hat to make it sit a just a bit higher on her head. "There just ain't no way it's right. It's twice as much as last month's. I haven't got done countin' every single apple we sent your way last week, but all the ponies in Ponyville couldn't eat that many."

The pink pony's smiled flickered, and her eyes looked left and then right. "Huh! That is kind of weird! Oh! AJ! Hey, have you met my new griffon friend! He's here from—"

Ritter's eyes went wide, but before the hyperactive bundle of cotton candy could leap the glass counter and start introducing him, AJ stomped one hoof on the ground. "Pinkie! I ain't here to play around! I already talked to you AND Mr. Cake about this once! I ain't gonna accept charity!" She set her jaw. "You can get train-shipped apples from Baltimare for five apples a bit, so we sell six apples for a bit. You paid us twice that. Three apples for a bit."

Pinkie frowned, her eyes pleading. "AJ, I don't understand. If Mr. Cake is fine with paying then—"

"Then nothin'!" Applejack said, cutting her off. "He pays twice as much as they're worth? That's not business, that's charity. He's got two kids to feed and a business to run! I ain't takin' his profits just because I'm on hard times. It ain't right for me to steal out of Pound and Pumpkin's mouth like that. I'll be bringing those extra bits back tomorrow morning."

"But you need help AJ! Without at least two more ponies, you won't be able to harvest even half—"

Applejack turned, walking away and hiding her face beneath her hat. "Just let Mr. Cake know I'll be here tomorrow." she said, her voice even.

"AJ..."

Pinkie Pie sighed. She looked at the ground, her eyes tracing the lines in the floor.

The orange pony was almost out the door before she stopped, and adjusted her hat. One hoof scuffed the floor. "Look, I'm sorry Pinkie. It just doesn't feel right. I'd be takin' advantage of ya'll."

Ritter wasn't sure how the pink pony had appeared next to Applejack, but there she was all the same, both hooves wrapped around her neck. "You're not! We're your friends AJ! Mr. Cake too. You've always been there when he needed help! He wants to help you, too! I didn't even ask him to pay double!" Her eyes watered. "Please don't be mad."

"I ain't mad, Pinkie, I just..." Applejack paused, not quite able to meet her eyes. "Gah! Fine, I'll think about it, alright. Gosh." she embraced the pink pony back, one hoof adjusting her stetson to keep Pinkie Pie's wild mane from knocking it down. "You're something else, Pinkie. I appreciate it. I truly do."

"Great! Now do you want to meet my new friend? He's sitting right over there and his name is Ritter and he's from the Passerine Mountains and he's not nearly as mean as Gilda although he doesn't have a cool moustache like Gustav aaaaaand he's not here. Huh."

Pinkie had dragged Applejack over to where Ritter had been sitting, but there was naught there but a empty paper plate and a few errant crumbs. "That's weird, he was just here. I guess he had somewhere to go? He said he didn't want a welcome to Ponyville party but I thought he'd stay to try more of our pies for sure. Do you think we scared him off when we were being angry and sad?"

Applejack disentangled herself from Pinkie's embrace, and put all four hooves firmly on the ground before responding. "I don't rightly know, but he sure seems like he's in a hurry." she said, pointing through the large front windows of Sugarcube Corner . Ritter was on the opposite sidewalk, running full-speed, wings flapping and legs kicking.

"I wonder if he's late fer somethin'?"

He was, in fact, late.

The letter had 'recommended' that he arrive at 'noon sharp'. Of course, no one 'recommends' you to show up at anything sharp. It was Ritter's suspicion that the letter was, in fact, subtly hinting to him that he being late was a very bad idea.

He'd almost made it too. He'd been walking right past the bakery. He had! Pausing, of course, for only the briefest of moments at the front window to look at what was making those amazing, incredible smells, when that pink hurricane had plowed right into him. He'd tried to get away, but she'd just kept describing desserts at him until he came inside.

Truth be told he was a little frightened of her.

His good intentions did not change the fact that he was still late, however. Picking up speed, he entered the town square and weaved carefully between narrow market stalls and shopping ponies alike, heading for the market exit on the other side of the square. The missive he'd received, among other things, contained careful directions to the Golden Oaks Library once he was inside of Ponyville.

Not that he needed very much direction: it wasn't a very large town to begin with, and even in the idyllic environment of Ponyville, a building made from a tree was difficult to miss.

The library rustled quietly in the autumn breeze. It was impressively tall and rather gorgeous in fall colors, the understated decoration of the building complementing well the red and gold foliage.

"I imagine it loses some charm in the winter." Ritter said, looking around.

A large closed sign hung from the front window. It looked like he was still expected then. Or the librarian had gotten tired of waiting, and gone somewhere else. He tried the handle first, which dutifully resisted his attempts to open it.

"Well. I hope she hasn't left."

He tried the knocker, a small brass loop much too small for such a large door. It banged and raised a fuss, but he didn't hear anyone scurrying to the door.

He waited.

He counted some clouds. There were only two, as far as he could see—one big gray one up above, and a small white one nearer to the ground, to the east.

He knocked again, a bit more forcefully. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost hear what might be activity coming from behind the door. Were those hoofsteps? The sound of some interior door opening?

Or not. He sighed.

"Perhaps I should check the backyard—"

He was cut off by the deadbolt slamming open, and then the somewhat quieter sound of the handle-lock turning. The door opened.

There behind it stood a somewhat maniacally-grinning purple unicorn, holding a long roll of parchment and a quill. A small pair of glasses sat perched on her nose, in case one was uncertain that this was, indeed, a librarian.

"Hello!" she began loudly. "I'm sorry I didn't get to the door sooner! I am amending my weekly, monthly and bi-annual schedule to account for a missed appointment! Unfortunately we're closed on Sunday as our sign clearly points out, but if you're here to return something I could be persuaded to take your books."

Ritter coughed.

Twilight hadn't quite been paying attention, her eyes scanning over the paper in her hoof. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that."

"No, I've just got something in my throat, I think—"

"Oh! Do you need some water? Can you breathe?" The Unicorn's full attention swung towards the gryphon, the parchment forgotten in the urgency of this impending disaster. "Wait! I can help! I read about the hind-leg maneuver yesterday! Just hold on to this wall here—"

Her horn flared purple, and Ritter squawked as he was flung bodily against the Golden Oaks Library wall and held there.

"And I can attempt to clear your esophagus! You may feel some squeezing sensations in your abdomen as I apply pressure—"

"By the Twin Talons, no!" Ritter screeched. Twilight hesitated. "I'm fine, I really am, I just—are you Ms. Twilight Sparkle?"

The unicorn blinked, and then beamed, her smile turning from terrified to self-assured. "That's me!" she nodded. "And if you're a gryphon looking for Twilight Sparkle and not the latest Daring Doo novel, than you must be my appointment! I assumed since you didn't show up on time that I must have gotten the date wrong. Somehow." She frowned, clearly displeased by the break with schedule. "The Princess assured me that your group was very punctual."

Ritter could hardly ignore the disapproval in her voice. He smiled as widely as he could. "I was accosted by a one Miss Pie, who forcefully insisted I try the local desserts."

"Ah." Twilight nodded sagely, without missing a beat. "Pinkie related delays. Understandable. She does love meeting new people! That explains everything. Please, come inside, and we can discuss why you're here."

"Of course. Um, Miss Sparkle."

"Call me Twilight." She smiled.

"Yes, Twilight. Um, could you...?"

"Yes?"

"Could you let me down?"

The sun was still high in the sky when they sat down at Twilight's breakfast table, the large round window allowing them a gorgeous view. The river twisted lazily between the houses, lined with trees of various shades of brown, red and gold.

Ritter graciously accepted a cup of warm tea from Twilight and, for propriety's sake, dipped his beak in it. Gryphon's were not much for social drinking. It took too long, and it was hard to carry on a conversation when you were constantly submerging your whole mouth into liquid and then throwing your head back to swallow.

He had to admit that he liked it, though. Apple and lemon and just a hint of bitter.

The unicorn across from him did the same, taking a few meditative sips. He understood her reticence to dive right into things. It was, after all, an unpleasant subject.

Absent-minded, Ritter tapped his claws on his cup, the talons making a few metallic pings.

Twilights eyes drifted over them, and then lit up. A hint of a smile played across her face. "I thought your claws were just gray, but they're actually metal, aren't they? Yes! They gleam in the sunlight—why would you do that? Coat your claws in metal?"

Ritter shifted. "They're not coated. They're prosthetics."

A wonderful word, prosthetics. It made people uncomfortable enough that they generally stopped asking questions. This wasn't a line of conversation he felt like going down.

"I'm sorry. That must have been painful. But, um..." she bit her lip, and then continued on. "But why silver? It's much too soft to be an effective claw. You'd have to replace them constantly. Not to mention the cost!"

Ritter tapped his cup again. "What makes you say they're silver? It could be any alloy of zinc or nickel and steel."

Twilight smiled back. "Simple. Even if I chose to ignore the lustre and the color, which is very distinct, I would be left with the tarnish. Steel rusts, and steel-nickel or zinc always shines, but silver resists oxidation and forms a patina instead. Wherever your claws do not get worn, they're tarnished."

Ritter somewhat self-consciously waggled his talons. "Well-reasoned. In my defense, keeping them polished is not only an exercise in determination, but dexterity."

She laughed, but kept going. "It doesn't explain why, though. Why metal claws? Why silver? That's a lot of trouble to...hunt things."

Ritter was silent for a moment, contemplating what was appropriate to say, especially to a pony. They didn't like the idea of violence at all, although some were more levelheaded than others. He dipped his beak in the tea to buy himself a few moments, savoring the lemon flavor mixed with the acrid apple aftertaste, and when he did speak, his tone was careful.

"To answer why silver, they're not. They're steel, fire-gilded with silver. Remarkable process invented by an earth pony, if I'm not mistaken."

"Hoofaestus. He went mad as a hatter from the mercury fumes later in life."

"Right." Ritter said, "But, to answer why silver requires some explanation. I think you may be operating under some false assumptions, regarding my occupation."

Twilight looked surprised. "Well, I know you're carnivores. I've read up on hunting in the gryphon kingdoms. The definition was very clear-cut. You're a hunter, so you kill creatures." Twilight said. Her expression remained inquisitive, although her voice was a little tight. "K-kill them and eat them. Or allow others to eat them."

Ritter scrunched his face, and nodded. "That is what a hunter does, yes." he replied, setting his tea down. "Gryphons eat meat. And meat must be hunted. But hunting game animals, while challenging, is not so important that the Empress herself organizes and funds the Hunter's Guild. I am what's called a professional hunter. I don't hunt game. I hunt monsters."

Twilight started, but Ritter continued, cutting her off. "Generally I am called to assist remote villages with problems they cannot deal with on their own. Problems like Timber Wolves, or a rampaging Ursa Minor, or rogue parasprites. I like to think that my job is really about solving problems. It's not always killing either. If I can drive a creature away, I will."

He sighed. "Sometimes, though, I hunt very dangerous things. Things dangerous not only for me, but for everyone near them. Changelings. The warped monsters of the Deep Bog, or a creature of Tartarus when it finds a crack through the northern ice. Then, these silver claws are a potent tool. Silver has a mystic relationship to the moon, and magic. A creature immune to all but powerful spells, can be hurt with silver. They're very useful. Because of this, every professional Hunter has them."

"I..see." Twilight said, shifting in her seat a bit. "Well then. I can definitely see why you'd use silver! Ha ha."

She smiled brightly. Ritter's sighed, and leant back in his chair. "Let me tell you about my family."

The sun glinted off claws and cup alike as he began. "Every Hearth's Warming, my father takes my family to an Eyrie by the coast, called Hyll, to watch the icebergs drifting south. It doesn't sound exciting, and it isn't, unless they run into each other. But it's a northern tradition, and that's tradition for you." he shrugged. "But after you get done watching the ice, it's time to feast! Beneath the evergreen northern trees, they spread out every kind of food fit for gryphons, right there on a blanket in the snow. And then we dance, until we're so tired and cold we can barely stand."

He sighed. "The last time I was with them was years ago. I miss them terribly." He paused for a moment, and smiled. "But I feel that what I do is important enough to warrant the sacrifice. I don't want you to be afraid of me, Miss Sparkle. Please don't mistake me for something I am not."

Twilight considered this for a few beats, before a slow grin spread across her face. "For example, being a very tardy gryphon?"

"I suppose I can't deny that one." he snorted. "But tardy as I may be, I really am here to help. And speaking of that." he shifted in his seat. "I don't want to make you any more uncomfortable, but perhaps you could tell me what you know regarding the disappearances?"

Twilight nodded. "I notice you said disappearances. Do you think they're still alive?"

Ritter's voice was careful. "I don't know. It's possible. But they have been in there a long time. More than two weeks."

Twilight sighed.

"Well then. The mailmare, a pegasus named Ditzy Doo," she began, coughing to clear her throat, "was noticed missing when she failed to report for work three days in a row following her two-week vacation. Personal effects of hers—a picture of her daughter, an empty saddlebag with her initials, and a few personal effects like shampoo and a currycomb, were found inside the forest following a subsequent search. It was assumed she got lost in the forest. But even after extensive searching, no trace of her was found."

"She had a daughter?" Ritter shook his head. "Twin Talons give strength. Where is the foal now?"

"The Cakes volunteered to take her in for the time being." Twilight said. Her voice was tight, but she quickly brought it under control. "After Ditzy went missing, about a week later, Applejack's brother went missing as well. He was out plowing the far pasture at Sweet Apple Acres, Applejack said, getting it ready for turnip and carrot planting. He never came back. His yoke was later found deep in the forest."

"I'm sorry."

Twilight shook her head. "Don't be. I'm fine. I..."

She took a breath, closing her eyes.

Ritter waited a moment before speaking. "What was his name?"

"Macintosh. Everyone called him Big Mac." Twilight said, her voice even.

"So, Macintosh went missing a week after Ditzy Doo, then?"

"Correct."

"He could have followed her in, I suppose. Hmm." Ritter shrugged. "That's odd though."

Twilight blinked. "Why do you say that?"

"The Apple farm is on the edge of the forest, right? Did he live there all his life?" Ritter said, his claw tracing an old gouge in the table.

"Well, as far as I know, yes." Twilight said hesitantly.

"He would know better than to wander in alone, then, even with a good reason. They know how dangerous it is. And he's the last pony on earth who I would expect to get careless and get dragged in."

Twilight picked up her teacup. "Do you think he went in willingly, then?"

Ritter was silent for a moment. "That would be remarkably foolish of him." he said finally, "Especially so soon after a disappearance." He tapped his cup. "It is possible that something new has come to inhabit the forest, I suppose, that is dragging ponies in."

"Oh?" Twilight took a sip of tea.

"But, supposing it is some new monster, that still doesn't explain what happened to Ditzy. There aren't many creatures in the world that can catch a pegasus. Maybe she was surprised."

"You don't think she got lost?" Twilight said, and raised an eyebrow.

Ritter scoffed. "If you have wings, you do not get lost in forests. One look above the trees and you can see Canterlot." he nodded. "I'm not sure why your town watch assumed she had gotten lost. It makes no sense."

Twilight looked away. "Well, um...Ditzy was kind of...strange. She wasn't...stupid, or mentally challenged, she just...was very strange. Sometimes it seemed like she wasn't quite on the same page as the rest of us, as it were. It's the sort of thing she would do."

"I see." Ritter said. "Did she have any friends in town? Anybody who might know why she went in there?"

Twilight shook her head. "Everybody loved her, and we would all do anything for her, but no one in town knows why she would go in. It's just like her. No reason, no rhyme, she just...did it."

Ritter took a sip of tea, and sighed. "I see. Well, in that case, we'd better talk to Applejack."

Author's Note

I need an editor.

(Edited slightly. Thanks to User:Burraku_Pansa for advice.)