Rebirth Into Brotherhood: A Gilda Story

by LiamNeighson

Chapters

1 - Purple Feather
2 - Green Feather
3 - Yellow Feather
4 - Red Feather
5 - Blue Feather

1 - Purple Feather

Rebirth Into Brotherhood: A Gilda Story
~By: LiamNeighson
Submitted to EQD on 7/15/13 for Flash Fanfiction Event #4

~~~

“You can’t wake a griffon who is pretending to be asleep.” - Ironfeather wisdom

~~~

The sky was on fire.

Gilda tried to outfly the blaze but the wind was carrying smoke and ash faster than she could move. The towering inferno behind her consumed the forest and sucked the air from her lungs. She blinked her eyes rapidly and squinted to see through the encroaching cloud. Her peripheral caught sight of a gorge and she banked right to head to the rocky land. The smoke billowed ahead of and around her. Gilda pumped her wings harder than she ever had before. She straightened her neck and tucked her claws to her breast to be as streamlined as possible.

She was flying blind.

The terrible heat of a burning world caught up to her and she felt her feathers begin to singe. She cried out in pain, closing her eyes firmly as she raced against the curtain of smoke. Gilda could feel the heat of the scorched earth below her. She could hear the snapping and cracking of ponderosa pine as it burst into flames. The griffon screeched in desperation as she felt her leonine tail catch fire.

She felt a cool blast of air.

Gilda opened her soot covered golden eyes to see the deep gorge of the Twinfeather river below her. She turned around and watched the wildfire as it stopped at the cliff edge where the vegetation ended. The dry heat of the desert was uncomfortable normally but after escaping the fire it felt like the coolest cave. Gilda then noticed the burn marks on her wings and tail and felt the pain once more. With a quick twist of her wings she dove to the cooling river waters below.

As the griffon splashed headfirst into the brown waters of the deep river she rolled over and fluffed her wings. Gilda emerged with a gasp and a laugh, she shook her head and straightened her fading purple-dyed crest-feathers hanging over her forehead. She playfully cawed in celebration and looked to the deep rocky gorge cliffs that shielded her from the forest fire above. When she turned her head to see up above the water she gasped.

There was a full rainbow crossing over the river above her perfectly framing the late afternoon sun. Gilda reached up to block out the sun to see the natural wonder more clearly. She extended a claw and it passed through the spectrum of light above the river. It felt alive and bright on her sharp talons. Gilda had an overwhelming sense of comfort and happiness as she felt the colors dance around her mottled claw and embrace her. Then something cast a shadow over her. Gilda looked up to see a pegasus silhouette slowly flapping its wings above her and in front of the sun.

“You left me, G.” Rainbow Dash said from her spot in the middle of the rainbow as she looked down at the Griffon.

Gilda blinked in confusion up at the silhouette before addressing it in confusion, “Dash? What’re you doing here? I th-”

“I thought we were friends.” The pegasi silhouette of Rainbow Dash interrupted, “But you were just two-faced. I could never be friends with someone so cruel.” The pegasus silhouette flared its wings dramatically and turned in midair. As she turned to leave the rainbow followed her. Gilda felt the happy motes of colorful light leave her appendage.

Gilda wanted to say something but the temperature began to rise rapidly and distracted her. The river itself was lowering around her. She looked down in confusion at the receding water as the river stones and rock bed began to show above the surface. When she looked up once more she saw the water evaporating and following her pegasus friend as clouds. The rainbow was slowly drifting away behind the flying silhouette and the clouds around it.

Gilda felt a lick of heat to her left and noticed the shore of the river was on fire. Somehow the blaze had moved down into the gorge and even the earth itself was burning. The water continued to recede rapidly and her feathers began to dry out once more. Gilda looked back up to the pegasus taking her water away and grit her beak. She reached out a claw to grab on to the rainbow and held the intangible substance with all of her might.

Gilda pulled on the rainbow and with it came the clouds. She saw her friend Rainbow Dash struggle and fly harder to escape with the water. The river continued to dry up until only a puddle was left for the griffon to stand in. She flapped her wings to give her more strength to pull on the rainbow but she felt her paws slipping on the dry river bed. Then Gilda felt the fire tickling at her feathers and the smoke invading her lungs.

“Don’t do this to me, Dash! I need that to survive! You’d just leave a friend!?” Gilda screamed above the sound of the inferno surrounding her from all sides.

The silhouette of the pegasus turned to address the griffon in its shadow. With magenta eyes that shone like the sun, Rainbow Dash glared at the griffon. “I am not your friend.” The calmly spoken words resounded clearly over the din of the destruction around them.

Gilda choked back her sadness and turned it into rage. She gripped the rainbow until her claws ached and pulled on the rainbow harder and harder. She could hear her friend struggling in the inferno all around her as well. Then with a loud snap the rainbow broke. Gilda looked up to see the clouds burning away in the heat. Then she noticed a limp pegasus silhouette falling into the inferno ahead of her. The fading and broken rainbow followed it down into the smoke and fire.

Gilda screamed.

“Gildalahi, it is time to come home.”

The disembodied voice rose up around the griffon and embraced her. Her feathers were aflame and she sunk into the dry river bed as the fire consumed her entire world. She had lost her only friend.

“Gildalahi, it is time to come home.”

Gilda laid down and closed her eyes as she fought back sobs but the fire filled her vision even then. The flames burned away every part of her body, leaving only her soul. She shivered from loneliness in the sandy river bed as the embers of her physical being cradled her spirit self. From the thick black darkness ahead a figure walked forward over the coals.

The majestic purple phoenix spread its wings and rapidly fanned the smoke that shrouded Gilda’s soul. Her spirit guide had returned to her again. It leaned down to nuzzle at the purest fragment of Gilda and spoke to her.

“Wake up, Gildalahi, it is time to come home.”

~~~

Gilda woke with a start.

The very real smell of smoke filled her nostrils. She twisted around from her supine position on the rocky ledge she had acquired the night before and looked down into the forest. A slow moving brush fire was travelling through the scrub of the desert valley below her and she could smell the acrid burning of pinyon pines. She rolled back onto her ledge, safe from the distant fire and laid a claw across her rising chest. She closed her eyes and focused on calming her breathing.

It was another dream. The same one for almost a week. Sure there were variations, instead of a forest fire it was a tornado, or a thunderstorm, or a cave in. Instead of burning, Gilda would be blown away, or drown, or get crushed. But the end result was always the same. Gilda would race against the elements, and Rainbow Dash, her only friend, would dismiss their friendship and take Gilda’s only means of escape. In the end, they would struggle and perish.

And after it all when the sorrow felt unbearable, her spirit guide would come to her and tell her to come home.

It had been five years since her spirit guide had sought her out. The same five years that she had spent in Equestria since leaving her roost after her fledgling ordeal.

The Ironfeather clan ordeal was not unlike a typical Native Griffon ordeal. Most fledglings would spend a week of solitude and silence in the wild, foraging and hunting to survive. Each night they would drink the “black drink” and undergo a vision quest, in search of their spirit guide. Once they had found the animal that was their spirit guide they would return to the clan to be inducted as full members and take their position in the roost society. Gilda desperately wanted to be like her father, a red-feather, a warrior. But when her spirit guide came to her in her dreams she saw she was to be a purple-feather, a seeker of wisdom. After her ordeal ceremony she couldn’t bear the shame. She would never forget how her father looked at his only child with intense disapproval. When the elders dyed the tips of her crest-feathers deep purple she felt like she was being branded as a blood traitor.

That night, long ago, Gildalahi flew far away and vowed to never return.

But after the events in Ponyville days before, Gilda had already crossed the sea and gone across the rocky southern desert following the Twinfeather river from the coast into the mountains. Now she had only a single day’s flight before she would reach her birthplace, Black Mesa, the home of the cliff dwelling Ironfeather Clan.

Gilda was not sure why she wanted to return home, perhaps to make the dreams stop. In her anger and frustration at the loss of her one true friend, Gilda suspected she just felt unbearably lonely. Most of all she feared that her clan would not accept her, especially her parents. Seeing her spirit guide brought her bittersweet hope, but the message in the dream was all too clear: She had lost something special in Ponyville that day.

Gilda rose to her leonine hind legs and stretched her wings, neck, and claws. With a quick drag on her razor sharp talons through her fringe she straightened the feathers of her crest forward. She sighed as she looked up to the faded purple dye that still marked her as a wise and spiritual member of the Ironfeather clan.

With a great beat of her aquiline wings, she rose into the air and dove off the cliff in search of a water source to catch breakfast and bathe. She would need the energy for the long flight to Black Mesa today and her wings would need to be preened to make the flight comfortable.

She hoped she would also find the courage to face her father.

2 - Green Feather

~~~

“Don't be afraid to cry. It will free your mind of sorrowful thoughts.” - Ironfeather wisdom

~~~

Omawnakw was busying himself in the fields below Black Mesa. The earth may have been the domain of the women but everything above ground was the territory of men. With precise swipes of his talons, the selected ripe maize fell into the baskets he had woven himself to be carried up to the cliff dwellings. He walked a few more paces between the row of maize he harvested, being careful to not damage any of the squash on the ground with his talons. Omawnakw double checked to ensure that the beans had all been harvested as he passed each vine crawling up the maize stalks. On the return trip he picked up the clay watering jug that his mother had made and emptied its contents evenly across the squash. They would be harvested soon.

Life was never boring for an Ironfeather griffon, especially a green-feather.

Omawnakw strapped his hide bags filled with beans over his shoulders and then grasped the basket of harvested maize in his talons. He blew a short puff of air across his face to lift his green dyed and sweaty crest-feathers off of his forehead. As he turned from the rows of crops to walk to the clearing and take wing he came beak to beak with a large griffon. A female.

“Squawk!” Omawnakw was startled and threw his hand-woven basket into the skies. He turned tail and began to waddle into the crops in fear at the strange griffon. He was no red-feather that was for sure.

“Chill out, dude! I’m just trying to get some grub.” The purple-feathered griffon took to the skies and lazily flew over the smaller male griffon who began to huddle in the fields. It was natural for female griffons to be larger than males, but this female was especially hardy.

Omawnakw looked up in fear at the much larger female griffon hovering above him. She must have been the same age as him, her feathers were still bright and her eyes sharp. But clearly she had a meaty diet because her figure was very... full.

“Take a picture, doofus, it’ll last longer.” She frowned and crossed her clawed forelegs across her chest in annoyance. She dropped down to land in front of the male griffon and began to scrutinize the summer squash below her. She asked the male in front of her which were ripest.

Omawnakw was too distracted to hear. He had his eyes drawn to the leonine tail swishing in agitation. He followed it up and up to the well nourished and rounded child-bearing hips of the female. ‘Rump’ was too ugly a word to describe the earthly-

“Quit starin’, dork! Now are you gonna give me some of this squash, or am I gonna have to take it? I’m done askin’!”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare. I was just startled, and you’re so large and...”

The female griffon in front of Omawnakw rolled her eyes and picked up a squash from the ground before her. With a dexterous flick of her claw a single razor sharp talon was extended and brought close to the vine.

Omawnakw’s eyes widened as he shouted, “Stop!”

The female griffon paused with her talon hovering next to the sticky fur of the squash vine. She looked at the male griffon with a single raised eyebrow.

Omawnakw slowly moved forward and leaned back on his leonine haunches. With his aquiline arms, he grasped the squash and carefully severed the vine above the fresh vegetable. With a quiet murmur he thanked mother earth for her contribution. He held the squash high above his head and let the wind of father sky bless the meal and cleanse it to be consumed. He then passed it to the female griffon in front of him.

“Wow, I completely forgot how lame this joint was.” Gilda shook her head and snatched the squash from the smaller griffon. “Time to chow down.”

Omawnakw huffed as he watched the larger female griffon bite into the squash hungrily. “You must have been away for quite a while to pick up such a tongue.” He spoke with renewed confidence as he watched her make short work of the vegetable. He took a moment to review her features once more: powerful build, large frame, proud chest and stance. He would have assumed she was a red-feather based on how she carried herself but he noticed the faded purple crest-feathers. They clearly marked her as a wise member of clan Ironfeather but they were nearly gone after what must have been so long away from home.

“Care to introduce yourself?” Omawnakw said to his clan mate.

The large female finished eating the rest of the squash and tossed the stem aside. “Hey, what’s up.” She said. No other words followed as she began to clean her teeth with a talon. She continued to regard the male in front of her with uncertainty. It was the first griffon she had seen in a long time.

Omawnakw sighed as he felt her gaze analyzing him. He took the first step, “My name’s Omawnakw, green-feather of Ironfeather Clan. This is Black Mesa, my home. But I’m sure you already know this since you bear our mark. So your name is purple-feather...” He trailed off waiting for her to complete his sentence.

“Gilda.” She answered with a flourish as her claw ran through her crest of feathers and she puffed out her chest proudly. She turned her head to side showing him her profile but she kept one eye on him, critically checking him for a reaction to her name.

Omawnakw frowned at the strange name. He knew the clan was small enough, only 900 or so griffons. It was possible he had never seen this female before but he felt the name nagging on his memory somewhat. “Blessings be upon us then, Gilda, for it is not everyday that two of our souls are united for the first time.” He added a wide wing sweep across his chest to represent his honor at being in her presence. The native griffon culture was matriarchal and women deserved the utmost respect. This was especially true when they were so fetching.

Gilda seemed to relax as the male addressed her as a stranger. “So, Omaw, you gonna show this griffon some hospitality or are you gonna be a dweeb?” Gilda looked down at the green-feather with a twinkle of hope in her eyes. It had been a long time since she had slept in a comfortable bed, much less a roost home. She distinctly remembered her people being honor-bound to care for guests. She wouldn’t have to steal like in Equestria.

“Of course, purple-feather Gilda, it’d be my honor. My home’s just on the south side of the mesa. Follow me.”

~~~

It was customary to honor guests with meals, whether they were from the same roost or from abroad. After gathering the harvested maize back into his woven basket, Omawnakw lead the female to his home cave. Technically it was his mother’s since she was the head of the household, but she would understand his situation. Omawnakw laughed to himself as he realized she would be ecstatic that he had finally managed to host a female for a meal. Even if she was a complete stranger.

“Omaw, why aren’t we cooking yet? I’m starving.” Gilda shuffled impatiently in the cave. She looked on with boredom at the wall as the late afternoon sun streamed in through the only entrance above and illuminated the vibrant painting of rolling meadows on the wall.

Omawnakw was unphased by the brashness and impatience of the female now sharing a cliffside cave with him as he began to sort through the day’s harvest. “My mother will return from the top of the mesa soon. She has many hatchlings to teach in the pueblo and can’t always be home.”

Gilda finished regarding the wall paintings in the cave dwelling and turned to the male. “Lame. And what about your old man? He doesn’t ever protect your house from thieves?”

Omawnakw paused to look up to the sky visible through the entrance in the roof. “He has joined our ancestors in the sky. He perished as a hero defending our clan from the Blacktalon raiders several years ago.”

Gilda looked directly at the male as he closed his eyes briefly and then returned to his task of sorting beans from their shells. “He was a red-feather?” She spoke softly and with sympathy as the green-feather before her shrank into himself.

“He was, and still is. He walked his path with heart and is an inspiration to many.” Omawnakw looked up at the griffon before him. “I’m proud to be his son.” He continued to sort the beans before him calmly.

Gilda scratched at the old tuff floor idly. The warm bed of straw that she rested on in the communal dwelling was much more comfortable than the exposed rocky cliffs she had grown accustomed to on her voyage to the griffon lands. But her physical comfort was overshadowed by her mental and spiritual unrest. She still did not know what had driven her home in her desperation, nor what had caused her spirit guide to return to her.

“Are you... Are you ever upset that you didn’t become a red-feather like him?”

Omawnakw looked up from his task without pausing. It was a question that he got often from fledglings but knew all too well how to answer respectfully. “We don’t choose our own paths. Our destiny is revealed to us throughout life just as surely as our spirit guide is during our first ordeal. Surely a purple-feather like yourself understands the wisdom of walking the true path.” He looked to Gilda as his claws continued the delicate work of preparing the food for the female of the household to cook.

Gilda winced under the gaze of the griffon before her. She forgot how different her people were from ponies. With Rainbow Dash and all the other fillies and colts at junior speedsters it had all been hopeful optimism and excitement. Everypony was thrilled at what the next day may bring and the moment they had earned their cutie mark was a joyous event of self-discovery. Ponies were so unique, just like their cutie marks. Griffons only had a few roles in their society and they were determined externally by their dyed crest-feathers. The only semi-unique identifier they had was their spirit guide, but it was taboo to discuss the identity of that with anyone other than loved ones or during rituals.

“But don’t you ever feel like you could be more than just a green-feather? Don’t you want to be remembered by others for doing something awesome? Harvesting crops and tending the fields is hardly a cool job.” Gilda moved closer to the griffon before her in what felt like a rare display of sincerity. Maybe it was just the familiar feel of the dwelling or the proximity of her home roost. But she somehow felt trusting of the griffon before her. Gilda knew she had to ask if others ever felt like she did.

Omawnakw gestured for Gilda to join him before the sorting baskets.

With a short shuffle across the enclosed space the two griffons sat face to face with the baskets before them. “Gilda, I don’t know why you left the roost. Or why you chose to return after what has clearly been a long time.” Omawnakw paused to indicate the faded dye on her crest-feathers, “Forgive my boldness, but it’s obvious that you need to reconnect with what made you a purple-feather in the first place. Each day I wake up with the sun to tend the crops and I feel fulfilled because I know I’m doing the best I can at the path that I’m best at following. If I were to ask a red-feather to water the crops, he’d do so unskillfully and the harvest would suffer, many could starve. If I tried to protect the roost from attack I’d do so unskillfully and the defense would suffer, many could perish. If I tried to give wisdom to a purple-feather I would probably sound like I was regurgitating the words of Elder Achak.” Omawnakw paused for a moment and smirked. He saw Gilda giving him a blank stare and laughed aloud as he watched understanding roll across Gilda’s face.

She joined him in laughter a moment later, “I wasn’t going to say anything since you seemed to be on a roll there but, yeah. That did sound a bit like Elder Achak, haha.” Gilda absent mindedly reached into the basket of unshelled beans and selected one. She continued to smile and let her claws work calmly to shell the beans. She felt like a fledgling once more listening to a story around the great fire. It was just like old times.

Omawnakw looked down to the claws of the griffon before him. “It’s not my place to give you guidance, Gilda. You’re a purple-feather, and as such are a much better guide of the spirit than I. It’s your own path to walk, no matter how far you may have strayed from it. And no matter what I say, my words will be incorrectly applied, like water from a red-feather or a spear from a green-feather. I can only offer you my friendship, and encouragement.”

Gilda continued to idly pick at the few shells she was trimming from the beans. The basket was nearly empty. It had been a long time since anyone had offered her friendship. She always considered friends a weakness. Just another pony to slow her down. Rainbow Dash was the only one she ever could trust to keep up with, or push her to go faster.

“Yeah, well there’s a reason I don’t have many friends, Omaw, fair warning.” Gilda looked at him with a devilish smirk.

Omawnakw smiled at the female before him and felt true happiness. It was the same pride he felt when the first shoot of a new seed he had planted breached the soil in spring. “Tonight, Gilda, I think we’ll eat to new beginnings. After all, even the greatest of stories start with a single word.” He stretched a claw before him and held his mottled and featherless arm ahead of him.

Gilda looked down at the extended arm and recalled how her tribe shared the guarded Ironfeather clawshake. With an overextension she grasped the forearm of Omawnakw and placed her two middle talons fully extended along the length. She wrapped the outer two talons around his arm and felt him pause a moment to do the same. They shook briefly and held the physical contact for a moment more.

“May our feathers catch the wind.” Omaw prompted.

Gilda felt the response rise from her memory like fresh water from a spring, “And may they hold against the storm.”

3 - Yellow Feather

~~~

“One talon can not lift a pebble.” - Ironfeather wisdom

~~~

Huyana watched the sun approach the horizon and swooped high off the southern end of Black Mesa. With a brief wave in greetings to the others returning to their cliffside dwelling on the east side she flew to the north end to enter her home. She knew she was late, but would have to make it up to her son Omawnakw with a delicious meal. Huyana could always trust her little green-feather to bring the freshest harvest from the fields. After all, it was the duty of the men to tend what was above the ground and the duty of the women to cook, care for children, and shape the earth.

Huyana once again thanked the spirits that it had been a time of peace this millennial. The banishment of the Night Mistress into the moon had been a time of strife for all of the clans. Fifty generations of bloodshed that slowly ended but not before claiming the life of her husband. Huyana hadn’t worked flint into a spearhead in years and instead spent her time making pottery with the other women or teaching the hatchlings to read and write. She felt relief after every new ordeal as more and more fledglings had their crest feathers dyed a color other than red.

Huyana once again reminded herself that the color was not meant to only represent blood of the enemy, but also the blood of the self. Red-feathers were strong hunters, and teachers of the body. They were just as important to griffon society as purple-feathers, the wisest of all and the teachers of the soul. But Huyana felt a swelling of pride as she recalled witnessing two fledglings return from their ordeal this week to take up the mantle of the yellow-feather. They would be intellectuals, teachers of the mind, just like her.

With a swift series of flaps, Huyana slowed her rapid flight to alight on her cliff-dwelling roof. She paused as she heard the sounds of laughter from within. With a curious peek over the entrance to look into the fire lit main room she was hard-pressed to stifle a squawk of delight as she saw her only son speaking with a female.

She never thought this day might come.

With a calm motion she tucked in her wings and fell into the dwelling onto her leonine paws and aquilan claws, narrowly avoiding the cozy fire in the center of the cave carved out of the mesa. Before either of the griffons could respond to the intruder, she rushed to wrap Gilda in a warm embrace. The two large females stood on their paws as one held the other in a crushing embrace.

“Oh, thank the spirits! My little hatchling has found a mate!”

Omawnakw felt his face turn bright red. “Mom, it’s not like that at all!”

Gilda was shocked as she felt the embrace of the slightly smaller female griffon but quickly felt a bubble of mischief rising to the surface of her mind. It had been too long since she had played a prank on someone at their expense. Omawnakw was just too easy of a target.

“Oh, you must be Omaw’s mother! I am so glad to finally meet you. He didn’t want you to meet me until we were certain that I was pregnant.” Gilda felt the talons around her grip almost painfully before relaxing reflexively in fear. Her view of the large extended wings of the female griffon before her were replaced with the view of the sky blue and wide open eyes instead. Gilda could hardly contain her mirth as she noticed waves of shock roll across the features of the old hen.

Huyana turned to her son with barely restrained fury painting her features. “OMAWNAKW! You have some explaining to do!” She still held on to Gilda as she began to slowly move towards her son.

“She lies! She isn’t pregnant, Huyana! I only just met her today!” Omawnakw was backing into the wall as quickly as he could. His face burned with embarrassment, shame, fear, and frustration. He visibly began to tremble as he looking imploringly to Gilda for explanation.

Huyana appeared unswayed by her son’s comments, “Oh, so you think these wide and healthy hips are natural?” With a quick motion she pinched Gilda on the rump, “They seem perfectly capable of bearing a child to me!”

Gilda’s eyes widened in surprise at the gesture and she let out a quick, “Eep!”

“Mother, stop! She’s our guest! I swear on father’s honor, I did not lay with her!” Omawnakw looked embarassed to the point of panic.

Huyana relaxed a bit at those words. She knew her son would not lie under that oath. But if this female guest was truly audacious enough to trick her she would not hesitate to turn the tables. The newcomer would have to learn to take what she could dish out after all. “And I suppose you’d have me believe these swollen teats are just for show is that it? I’m not so easily fooled.” With a gross invasion of personal space Huyana began to reach below the breast feathers of the other female.

“Squawk!” The female griffon in Huyana’s grasp struggled loose of the one armed embrace and moved as far away as possible. “Woah, relax! It was just a joke! No need to feel me up.” Gilda looked with panic at Omawnakw. “Does she do this to every girl you bring over?”

The male griffon could only blush and let out a quiet chuckle. “I’m ashamed to say you’re the first, I’ve got a poor reputation on Black Mesa. I still haven’t passed my brotherhood ritual and few females desire a male that’s no greater than a fledgling fresh from their ordeal. Can’t say I blame them.” He sighed as he relaxed against the wall opposite of Gilda and looked away from the other occupants. He focused on controlling his heart rate and clearing the burning blush from his features.

The mother stopped smiling internally at having returned the embarrassment in kind to the guest and focused on her only child with a frown, “You won’t pass your brotherhood ordeal with that attitude. And you’ll never attract a mate without confidence either.” Huyana composed herself and closed her eyes. With a swift motion she straightened her yellow crest feathers and turned to the other female in the room. “I apologize for my actions, it’s been a dream of mine to become a grandmother. It gets quite lonely with the two of us, something I hope you have the ability to avoid. My name’s Huyana, I’m Omawnakw’s mother and the head of this household.”

“Sup, err, hey, I’m Gilda.” Gilda paused a moment to see if any recognition made itself apparent on the features of Huyana. After none came forth she continued, “I know that loneliness can bite, heh. But I really did just meet your son today. Omaw offered me a place for me to crash tonight.”

“I’m right here you know, you don’t have to–”

“Hush, Omaw! The females are talking!” Huyana cleared her throat after silencing her child. “I’m glad that he’s offered up his food and kindness but the home is mine to choose what to do with, so you have until nightfall to convince me to let you ‘crash’ here, Gilda.” The slang word and proper noun were both spoken with a relaxed slur. Huyana frowned at ‘Gilda’, wondering why she had chosen to take another name. When she looked at the crest feathers of the guest she noticed that they were a faint violet. She began to remember an old story.

Omawnakw remained silent and looked to Gilda in an apologetic glance. He expected his mother would react inappropriately to him having a female in the dwelling but not that Gilda would chide her or tease him. He definitely did not expect her to joke about being pregnant. It seemed that Gilda’s sense of humor was just as coarse as her attitude.

Gilda cleared her throat and looked to Omawnakw in curiosity as Huyana continued to scrutinize her features, glancing often at her crest feathers. “Look, Huyana, I’m down for a staring contest whenever but, uh, is something on my face? Or...”

Huyana broke her gaze with the enigmatic female and walked to the cooking fire and woven baskets holding the corn and beans. “Dinner will be served shortly. Omaw, why don’t you go and gather us a few salmon fillets from the smokehouse by the river. Gilda here looks like she can eat.” She sat and began to fill the dark earthen clay cooking pot she made with her own two claws with water before placing it on the low cooking fire.

“Aww, but mom, that’s so far away!” Omawnakw stood and rolled his eyes.

Huyana moved in close to him and whispered into his ear, “I see how you look at her, Omaw. If you wish to impress her you’ll bring me the fish and we’ll have a proper meal. Most importantly, you will take your time. Understood?”

Omaw nodded and looked from the eyes of his mother to Gilda. The younger female was busying herself with the maize and pretending to choose the best ones while straining her ears to hear their conversation. “Understood, mother.”

Huyana patted her son on the head and stood back so he could leap to the roof entrance. His claws caught the edge and he wiggled his leonine legs and tail to shift his wings and pull himself through the small opening. The roof entrance wasn’t practical for easy exits but it was safe when defending against outside attack and let the smoke out from the cave dwelling. As the sounds of her son grumbling faded into the night sky, Huyana sat next to the guest and began to measure clawfuls of beans into the slowly boiling pot of water.

“Now, Gilda, we prepare dinner. It has been a while since I’ve had company. And since you decided to play me the fool earlier I believe it would be in your best interest to behave if you wish to sleep out of the elements tonight.” The maize that Gilda was holding was plucked from her claws and swiftly husked by Huyana. With practiced ease she laid the husks along side the cooking fire to dry out so they could be used by Omaw to weave.

Gilda looked to the elder female griffon curiously. She had not recalled her culture being quite so welcoming during her early years. Most elder griffons would not let themselves be left with a stranger alone. It was too dangerous, even trading was done in neutral locations as a means of defense. Gilda had originally hoped that Omaw’s mother would an old hen who wouldn’t question her presence but Huyana still had the breath of youth with her every motion and word.

“How long has it been?”

Gilda blinked in confusion at the question. She was absorbed in remembering the motions of husking maize. “Um, how long has what been?”

Huyana turned to look directly at the other female at her side before the cooking fire. “Since you left, ‘Gilda’, and I’d like to know your given name if it’s not too much trouble.” Huyana began to stir the earthen pot with a clay rod and then capped it to trap the heat and let the beans simmer. They would have plenty of time to talk alone now

“Well, my birth name was Gildalahi.” Gilda once more looked for recognition on the older hen’s features but none came forth.

“Hmm, a fitting name, Gildalahi. It means ‘attractive’ in the old tongue if I’m not mistaken.” Huyana delicately peeled the fibers and repositioned the husks near the fire. The moisture would need to leave the organic material evenly, lest they begin to burn.

Gilda blushed a bit under the compliment. It’d been a long time since anyone had called her anything but awesome or terrifying. “Yeah, but don’t go spreadin’ that around. I don’t want to be seen as some kind of dork who uses their full old school name.” Gilda turned to see Huyana regarding her with a flat gaze. “Uh, no offense.” She added and smiled sheepishly.

“My name means ‘falling rain’ in the old tongue. If I were to shorten it to just ‘Ana’ I think it would diminish the beauty of it. And spirits forbid I be known simply as ‘Huy’. ‘Falling’ is certainly not a name or circumstance I want attributed to me often.” Huyana smirked as she drew a laugh out of the younger female. “And my son, Omawnakw, his name means ‘cloud feather’. While it’s easy to shorten his name to ‘Omaw’ or just ‘cloud’, it doesn’t fully describe his character. He’s very gentle and nurturing but strong enough to lift others when necessary.” Huyana smiled to the younger griffon as she extolled her progeny.

Gilda looked to the yellow-feather and felt a wave of nostalgia roll over her. “It’s been a long time since I’ve talked to a yellow-feather. I forgot how much you guys groove on words.”

Huyana smiled knowingly, the young purple-feather may have been away from home for a while but she still saw through her words to their meaning. It was hard to turn off a natural talent for understanding. “And what about your parents’ names. Do they not hold importance to you?”

Gilda tensed up a bit as she realized where the conversation was heading.

Huyana noticed the silence and lack of motion and feared she may have moved too quickly. She didn’t want Gilda to clam up so she amended rapidly, “My husband, Omaw’s father, his name was Enapay, ‘brave’ in the old tongue. He was, as you have probably guessed, a red-feather. While it’s one of the more common names to give to young cocks he still lived up to it. The battle he perished in was the last that Black Mesa saw, almost three years ago. The Ironfeather and Blacktalon have lived in peace ever since then. It was agreed by elders on both sides that the return of the Moon Mistress would mark the beginning of a new millennial of prosperity and learning.” Huyana finished cleaning the corn and delicately placed them on the wooden serving boards for the three who would share the meal. She adjusted the husks once more so that the other side could be exposed to the heat of the warm fire.

Gilda nodded thoughtfully as she looked into the flames. She estimated that must have been nearly two years after she left the roost. She had attended the junior speedsters flight camp immediately after entering Equestria before spending four years exploring the continent. She moved from city to city, stealing to eat, and sleeping outside or in abandoned buildings. She wanted to be strong like her father, and independent like her mother. But after she stopped in Ponyville to see Rainbow Dash she realized how out of touch she’d become.

Huyana watched the younger griffon stare into the fire in deep thought. She sighed and took another moment to stir the cooking beans within the dark clay pot. “If you don’t want to tell me your past you don’t have–”

“Five years.” Gilda said, “That’s how long I’ve been gone. I doubt anyone even remembers me, I was just a dorky little fledgling straight out of her ordeal after all.” Gilda didn’t know why she was telling this yellow-feather the truth. She knew as she flew towards Black Mesa that morning that many would know her mother and father. Gilda didn’t know what she would say to either of her parents, she didn’t know if she ever would. She didn’t even know if they were alive.

Huyana waited patiently for Gilda to continue, they both watched the cooking fire with calm expressions. She knew that old wounds were the hardest to heal, especially when they were self-inflicted.

“My father was like your husband. Otaktay, ‘kills many’, a real old school red-feather. He was older but his name was definitely one of the more common ones back then. Danger was realer back then.” Gilda remained stoic as she watched the fire. She began to feel like it didn’t matter if this one other griffon knew. A small family of two living on the southern end of the mesa would probably be the least likely to know who she really was or even remember, she reasoned.

Huyana felt a flicker of hope rise in her spirit as she watched the fire and made a conscious effort to remain calm. Otaktay, Gildalahi, she knew it had to more than a coincidence. Huyana remained calm and let the younger one continue speaking. She began stirring the pot to keep her talons busy, in fear she may start to tremble with excitement.

Gilda idly wrapped a corn husk around her talons and said, “Mother was Alsoomse, or ‘Independent’ in the old tongue,” Gilda paused as she saw Huyana fumble with the pot and knock some embers aside. She looked at the older griffon in confusion but Huyana simply smiled back and nodded for her to continue. “She was a blue-feather, a leader. I just wanted to be like my father. Mom always loved him and I just wanted to be the same, you know? Ah, it doesn’t matter.” Gilda tossed the corn husk into the cooking fire and watched it burn away. She knew her father would scorn her for being wasteful but there would always be more corn husks. There was nothing special about them.

Huyana cursed under her breath, she should have said something, anything, after hearing the mother’s name but she couldn’t divert any energy from controlling her emotions. Alsoomse, a blue-feather, her mother, there was no denying the evidence now. She knew that Gilda would need to open up more later and that it wouldn’t be with her.

“Gildalahi, Gilda, thanks for being honest with me. You’re welcome to my home tonight, and any other night you may need to stay. I just ask that you don’t take advantage of my son, he’s very impressionable.” Huyana smiled at the female griffon and noticed a flicker of mirth cross her face as she smiled with her eyes.

Gilda turned to Huyana and said, “Yeah, I think I can go easy on him. Thanks.”

4 - Red Feather

~~~

“It is better to have less thunder in the beak and more lightning in the claw.” - Ironfeather wisdom

~~~

Huyana discretely opened an eye and regarded her son, Omawnakw, as he quietly dragged his prone form closer to the supine one of Gilda. Dinner had been filling and night had fallen. The warm coals barely lit the cave to reveal the three ‘sleeping’ griffons. Gilda had been the first to succumb, clearly exhausted after what must have been a long flight to Black Mesa from wherever she came from. Huyana had been fighting off sleep for a very important task, but she just wished her nervous son would finally go to sleep so she could leave without alerting either of them.

After a few more moments of slow scooching, Omawnakw had managed to wedge himself right next to his new and much larger female friend without waking her. With a sudden and unexpected motion, Gilda rolled and wrapped the smaller male in a warm embrace.

Omaw had to stifle an eep of glee as he felt his blushing cheeks get wrapped into the breast feathers of the large female griffon. It wasn’t long before he too succumbed to the warm embrace and fell into a wonderful sleep.

Huyana sighed at how desperate her son was for companionship, but then realized it was a similar gesture that Enapay had performed on her when he desired to court her. The only difference was that Enapay had not been in the cave when Huyana had fallen asleep. Enapay received a severe lashing from Huyana’s mother come morning when she found her eldest daughter with a male under her very own roof. But there was something romantic in seeing a suitor take a beating from one’s own mother so gallantly. He certainly lived up to his name.

When Huyana was certain that the pair were nestled in dreams, she slowly rose to all fours and leapt as quietly as possible to the roof entrance. She pulled herself up and out and looked at the star-filled open sky with a smile on her face. Sparing a moment to glance down into the cave she noticed the couple breathing softly in their embrace. Huyana turned and leapt from the edge of the mesa to glide silently around the western side. With a quick flap of her wings she caught up with the nearest guard post on the corner of the mesa top.

The young cloaked red-feather on guard was startled as an older yellow-feather alighted next to his tall outpost. He knew invasion was unlikely but it was still his duty to be on the lookout for dragons or other predators that could approach them at night. “Well met, yellow-feather, how can I assist you?” He held his wooden spear and shield at attention as he addressed his clan mate.

Huyana spoke quietly and quickly, “The chieftain’s daughter has returned.”

~~~

Gilda was crawling through darkness. The tuff tunnels got thinner and thinner and she was moving into the pitch black before her. The only illumination came from the wall of lava approaching her from behind. The ancient compressed volcanic ash of the Mesa was not supposed to be an actual volcano. But still she had awoken in the cave alone and panicked as lave began to flow through the circular entrance in the roof.

With desperate clawing motions she squeezed and pulled her large frame through the tunnel. Then it became too narrow to even breath. Gilda couldn’t even turn her head to watch the approaching wall of heat and death. She cried for help. The stifling heat and pressure of the earth around her and the molten rock approaching her rapidly whipping tail was unbearable.

A pinprick of light appeared next to her. A single ray of sunlight shone across her vision in the cramped tunnel and illuminated the motes of dust. A few more scraping and cracking sounds could be heard and then her eyes beheld a wondrous sight. A bright green and tiny hummingbird poked its head into the tunnel she was in. He glowed with vibrant emerald excitement. The hummingbird spirit guide trilled excitedly when he made eye contact with the trapped griffon and then he disappeared.

“Wait! Come back, don’t leave me here!” Gilda shouted, she tried to roll onto her back and extend a talon to snatch him but all she could manage was to reach into the ray of light that shone into her tunnel. The tunnel that would soon become her grave as she felt her tail beginning to catch fire.

“Save us.”

Gilda recognized the voice again. The same ominous and musical tone that infected her each and every nightmare since Ponyville.

“Dig.”

Then she saw it again. Gilda laid eyes once more upon her own spirit guide that had appeared in front of her in the dark cave. The stoic purple phoenix raised a wing to the wall and indicated the tiny hole that the hummingbird had poked its head through. With a calm motion the phoenix, her spirit guide, raised a talon and scratched at the crumbling tuff rock near the point of light and pulled a bit free. The light grew a fraction brighter and the hole was visibly wider.

Gilda gasped in understanding.

With frantic and desperate motions she turned on her back and clawed at the wall with all of her strength. Her spirit guide seemed to sense her urgency and in a rare display of companionship she joined her. The two of them worked at a feverish pace ripping chunks of compressed volcanic ash away. Gilda savored every inch of sunlight that met her eyes but had to shut them as the dust and falling dirt got in her eyes. She squawked in pain as the lava caught up to her tail and curled her leonine legs in as far as they could go. She picked up her pace and yelled for help. Her spirit guide joined her. With screeches and caws the two worked as a team to free themselves from the tunnel that could be their grave.

A trilling sound and a buzzing of wings met Gilda’s ears over the roar of blood pumping through her body. “Where is she!? In here?”

The voice was not her own. Gilda paused in amazement. An darting emerald silhouette of a hummingbird could be seen flitting in and out of the hole Gilda and her spirit guide had created. Just then a firm talon reached into the hole and the voice said. “Grab on! I’ll pull you out!”

Gilda grasped the proffered claw with all of her might. It squeezed back reassuringly and even the small hummingbird held into the edge of a talon and began to pull backwards as well.

With the sound of a crumbling mountain Gilda felt herself being pulled from the stone tunnel and through the widening gap. She blinked her eyes in amazement as she slid down the scree of the side of the mesa. The dirt in her eyes and the harsh sunlight temporarily blinded her but she blinked it away and her pupils adjusted to see her savior.

“Omaw?”

The male griffon flew proudly above and landed gently on the soil before her. He was orbited by a fast and agile glowing emerald spirit guide. A hummingbird.

“Gilda!? What were you doing in that cave? You should be outside enjoying the great weather!” Omawnakw seemed oblivious of the fact that he just saved her life.

Gilda was shell-shocked. Her eyes followed the small spirit guide as it darted to and fro, inspecting her from every angle and plucking bits of rock from her feathers and fur. It was fussing over her and grooming her, she realized. “Um, didn’t you see the lava, dude? I was trying to escape.”

Omawnakw raised his eyebrows. “Well then, I guess I’m glad I helped you escape.” He swept a wing low and bowed before the female griffon.

Gilda stood and felt a weight rest itself on her shoulder. She turned to see her spirit guide sitting there calmly. “This is a dream isn’t it?” She looked at her spirit guide as it glowed in a vibrant violet shimmer.

Omaw laughed, “Of course it is! Does your spirit guide speak to you in real life as well?”

Gilda had to frown at that. She pointed a talon at Omawnakw as the happy hummingbird perched itself on his head. “Hey, I’m still new to this you know. My spirit guide didn’t speak to me for nearly five years since my ordeal. I’m not too happy with her.” Gilda turned to her phoenix and frowned.

The phoenix stuck out a tongue and blew a raspberry.

Gilda gasped and reached a claw to throttle the rude bird. Her claw met air as the majestic creature flew through the air around Gilda narrowly avoiding her every attempt to capture her.

Omaw shrugged, “Perhaps it’s you who didn’t speak to her.”

The hummingbird atop his head peeped out a high-pitched, “Truth!”

Gilda gave up on trying to capture her spirit guide and fumed as she watched the smiling male griffon and hummingbird look at her expectantly. “Whatever, my spirit guide’s a total dweeb anyway, I don’t need her.”

The hummingbird happily peeped out once more, “Lying!”

Gilda grit her beak in frustration. The purple phoenix landed on her head but she was too angry and upset to even care anymore. “I’ve had it with these dreams! I don’t know what they mean, or why I even listen to them, I’m not a purple-feather! I was never meant to be a purple-feather!” Gilda clawed, pawed, and kicked at the ground as she flapped her wings in anger.

“Lying.”

“Hush, Omawnakw, can’t you see she’s upset?” Omaw brandished his spirit guide with a look of disapproval as the hummingbird flitted behind an outstretched wing in shame.

Gilda was busy trying to bore her gaze to physically hurt the annoying little green spirit. “You named your spirit guide after yourself? That’s like, next level dorkiness.” Gilda looked at her phoenix as it flew around and chased the hummingbird playfully.

“Elder Achak says the spirit guide is part of us, at least that’s what he told me at my last brotherhood ritual. But it didn’t help me pass. Me and Omawnakw, we’ve been through so much together but still we can’t pass the ordeal, we always get separated or lost in the elements.” Omaw looked crestfallen as he watched the two spirit guides race each other around the low valley they stood in below the mesa. The dream world was vibrant and the two flighty creatures chirped and tweeted at each other.

Gilda frowned. “Well, I guess that makes both of us losers then. I haven’t even named my own spirit guide, much less attempted the brotherhood ordeal. I was just too angry when this girl showed up and told me I was going to follow the path of the purple-feather.” Gilda held a claw out and extended a talon to let the phoenix hovering near her land. “But I guess if I had to give her a name it would be my own as well, Gildalahi. She was the only one to return to me after... well, it’s not important.” She looked at it calmly and watched it trust her enough to land once more on her body. It nodded it’s approval at the name Gilda had given it.

Omaw was not swayed by the guarded words of Gilda “Why did you come back home, Gilda? If your heart told you to leave Black Mesa and Ironfeather clan, then what made you want to return?” Omaw looked on with concern to the female before him. His hummingbird spirit guide, Omawnakw, joined him as it perched on the side of his head to hear the response as well.

Gilda looked down to the soil below her in shame, admitting weakness was something she was not accustomed to. It was during her first ordeal as she starved and cried alone in the forest after getting sick from the “black drink” that she cried to the spirits for aid. It was the first night she met her spirit guide. “I... I was–”

“Brotherhood.” The phoenix interrupted her.

Gilda looked to Gildalahi in shock, “That’s not true! I didn’t–”

“This is great, Gilda!” Omaw was ecstatic and his hummingbird spirit guide zipped about in joy. “We can undergo the ordeal together! I’m sure that our friendship will help us to the take the next step down our true path!” He shuffled in place with happiness.

Gilda was almost frightened by the glee being exuded by the smaller male in front of her. She just couldn’t say no to that face. “Yeah, well, you did sort of save my life from that lava up there a moment ago, so I guess I can help you out with that. Or whatever.” Gilda rolled her eyes and looked to her spirit guide as it simply nodded in approval.

Omaw laughed and put on what he thought was a smoky look. “I guess that makes me your savior then, eh?” Omaw slid forward and wrapped Gilda up in an embrace, “Well, wouldn’t it only be proper for a hero to get a kiss then?” He leaned in and roughly mashed his inexperienced beak against hers.

Gilda opened her beak to squawk in shock and anger but that turned out to be a big mistake as her tongue was met with another.

~~~

Gilda opened her eyes as she awoke from the strangest dream she ever had.

Then she realized that she was looking into the closed eyes of a male griffon who had his tongue in her beak. Gilda unwrapped her arms from around his back. Then with a rough shove of her claws and a knee to the stomach, Omawnakw was thrown across the cave into the opposite wall.

“Dude! What the freak!? I knew you were a weirdo, but that’s off the creep-scale!” Gilda began to spit and wipe her beak as she tasted the male griffons morning breath on her tongue.

Omawnakw groaned in pain as he awoke unpleasantly to the feeling of hitting a cave wall and getting kneed in the abdomen. “Ohhh, what happened?”

Gilda pounced on him in an instant, “I don’t know what funny business you thought you could pull on me last night. But wrapping my arms around you in my sleep and making out with me is grounds for a clobbering!” Gilda raised a balled up claw above her head menacingly.

Omaw laughed in his dreary state, “I didn’t wrap your arms around me, that was all you.” He playfully smirked at the large female before him and laughed. He was too engrossed in the happy knowledge that he had kissed the female. Dreams had a strange way of reflecting reality like that.

Gilda scoffed at Omaw and felt her arm hesitate, “As if! You know what, I don’t care if your spirit animal is a hummingbird, I’m not gonna make this easy on you.” She raised her balled claw once more and prepared to bring it down on his beak.

“Wait! You had the same dream!?” Omawnakw was jolted to his senses. He had never heard of anyone except for the elders sharing dreams before. It was remarkable. Then he remembered what his audacious dream-self had done before he woke and paled in fear. It seems he really had stolen a kiss from her, intentionally too.

Gilda halted her fist inches away from the beak of the male griffon. His gaze didn’t flinch as he stared beyond her and mumbled to himself. Gilda instead grabbed him by the scruff and lifted him against the cave wall, “Speak fast, dweeb, I’m getting out of here as soon as you finish talking.”

Omaw was reeling in shame and embarrassment once more but fought with every ounce of his will to form words. He hoped they’d be the correct ones, “I saved you! Me and my spirit guide pulled you from the caves and you were there with your spirit guide. You promised to undergo the brotherhood ritual with me.” He panted with desperation as the female griffon held him against the cave wall with one claw and had the other balled up threateningly close. She watched him intently switching her gaze from eye to eye.

“What was my spirit guide?” Gilda asked calmly.

Omawnakw hesitated, it was inappropriate to name a spirit guide with anyone other than loved ones or in ceremony. A small social custom that Gilda inadvertently violated moments before. And Gilda was hardly his mate, as much as he felt the growing desire in him for that to be true, he knew it was not. “I... It wouldn’t be appropriate to–”

“Say it!” Gilda scraped her claw against the cave wall and pieces of it crumbled away under the razor sharp talons.

Omaw spoke in a low whisper as he looked into the sharp golden eyes, “Phoenix, it was a phoenix. You named her... Gildalahi.”

Gilda released her grip and felt as if ice water ran through her veins. She had heard tales of griffons sharing dreams when she was a child but it was only supposed to be between souls that were in harmony. Close friends, family, clan elder, and lovers.

Gilda ignored the words as she felt more confused than ever before. “I... I gotta go.” She leapt to the cave dwelling roof and climbed outside. She was stunned to be met with a spear tip to her throat as she extended her wings.

“Don’t move, outsider.” The red-feather growled low at her and gestured to the top of the mesa. “Fly to the top and stand before red-feather Otaktay to answer for your charade.”

Gilda began to back away from the obsidian spear tip in fear. A shove from behind by another red-feather griffon made it clear that escape would be impossible. Gilda gulped nervously and rose to fly to the top of the mesa, and confront her father.

Omawnakw watched the scene in surprise from the entrance to his home. He didn’t understand what was happening but he would not allow his new friend to come to harm. He’d be brave, like his father.

~~~

Otaktay stood on the mesa top and instructed his warriors to keep the crowd at bay. Every feather of griffon was present to see what the situation was but the color red dominated the open circle being formed with him at the center. A soft thud of a landing sounded behind him and Otaktay mentally prepared himself for what would come next. He adjusted his drab brown and red stitched cloak marking him as the leader of the guard and sighed. With a slow motion he looked over his shoulder and regarded the female imposter coolly.

“Who are you, outsider, who takes up the identity of my child?” Otaktay spoke with no inflection or hesitation. His words were soft but powerful like a distant boom of thunder. No griffon on the mesa uttered a single sound. They all knew the tale of how his daughter had fled home. It had been years and a body was never found, she was presumed dead.

Gilda felt her words fail her. She saw an aging male in front of her weary from time and sorrow. Gone was the fierce look of determination and the hunger for battle. Left was a hollow shell of a griffon who had lost his inner fire. “I-I... I’m sorry I didn’t mean to–”

Otaktay began to walk forward calmly. His temper didn’t rise like it would have in days gone by. His anger didn’t flare up at the sight of someone disgracing his greatest regret. “You are a fool to think you can come to Black Mesa, dye your feathers in the Ironfeather fashion, and dig up a name and past which deserves to rest in peace.” Otaktay closed in on the female and scanned her features. Her violet dye was faded, a cheap knock-off, her frame was fat and soft. The only thing this female had in common with his daughter was her eyes, and even then, bright gold was common among griffons. “My heart aches that my daughter’s name be spoken by a coward who hides behind such thin lies.” Otaktay turned from the female and spoke aloud, “Take this deceiver to–”

Gilda panicked, she would be branded and exiled, she could not leave home empty clawed after coming so far. “Dad, it’s me, Gildalahi!” Gilda reached forward and grabbed her father’s arm. She pulled his right claw to her own and grasped it in the Ironfeather shake. “May our feathers catch the wind.” She spoke quickly but softly. “Please, believe me!”

Otaktay looked down in disgust at the claw wrapped around his wrist. The two talons were stretched up his arm, the razer ends close enough to his veins to be life-threatening but they did not apply pressure. He adjusted his own claw to complete the shake and looked on in sadness to the griffon before him. “It only proves that you are a member of the clan, and doubles your shame. No blood of Ironfeather Clan should ever dare to insult my family in such a way.” Otaktay didn’t return the sacred words to the female. He wrenched his claw free and turned away from her.

Gilda felt tears falling from her eyes as she watched her father turn away. Two red-feathers moved to flank her and grab her arms. She was defeated, all of her effort to come home and find, solace? Redemption? Whatever it was she was looking for was slipping through her talons.

“Your daughter reaches out to you and you turn your back on her!”

Otaktay froze in his place. He turned to the voice and the newcomer who pushed his way out of the crowd and into the clearing.

“Your daughter returns home after a five year journey of self-discovery to undergo the brotherhood ritual and you ignore her. Why don’t you ask her what her spirit guide is?”

Otaktay saw the words leaving the beak of a young green-feather. The male griffon moved swiftly to the female’s side and supported her. Otaktay felt something stirring within him he had not felt in many years. He felt fear.

“You are brave to stand up for this female who walks in shadows but know that your words of defense have only given me the means to prove her guilt.” Otaktay strode with purpose and undid the red clasp on his brown cloak before throwing it from his neck. If he was to speak of spirit guides he would do it without ornamentation or station. Leaning in low and bringing the side of his face next hers he spoke in the barest whispers to the trembling female griffon.

Gilda breathed out the one word response to the question and felt a shudder of terror run through her father that matched her own. She knew there was no denying the truth of the matter now.

Otaktay stumbled backward and held a claw to his chest. He raised his eyes to look at the sky and then lowered them to the female before him. He saw the claws of the female prostrated before him clasped in a gesture pleading as surely as her tear-filled eyes were. He realized with a blink of surprise that he was crying as well.

“Take...” Otaktay blinked rapidly and wiped his forearm across his face. “Take her to Elder Achak. I... I need to consult the chieftain.” And with a speed that he had not moved at in many years, Otaktay fled from the crowd to the grand pueblo on the north cliffside.

Omaw looked to Gilda in trepidation. “I’m sorry, Gilda, I did my best, I won’t leave you, I promise.” Omaw was pressed aside by the red-feather guards as they escorted Gilda away.

Gilda simply smiled at Omawnakw and then bowed her head in acceptance as she was lead to a large building.

~~~

Omawnakw returned to his home to find his mother sitting on the roof looking across the sky towards the fading sunrays. He had remained outside of the dwelling of Elder Achak all day waiting to hear word of Gilda but nothing was forthcoming. He landed on the roof of his home hungry and afraid, his newest friend was gone. And the only way anyone could have known about her was if his mother had told them.

Omawnakw alighted next to his mother and spoke angrily, “Why did you tell them a–”

Huyana squawked at her son to silence him, “Do not raise your voice at me. I did what was best for us, and for Gildalahi. If her father chooses to remain with his eyes closed then the matter is out of my claws.” She turned from her son to look at the sunset once more and closed her eyes. She knew it would be difficult to earn back the trust of her son after tonight.

“What will happen to her? What will elder Achak and the chieftain do to her? She was going to take the brotherhood ritual with me, she promised!” Omawnakw said nervously.

Huyana sighed and turned to look at her son. “Omawnakw, the chieftain, Alsoomse, is Gildalahi’s mother.”

5 - Blue Feather

~~~

“Knowledge is of the past. Wisdom is of the future.” - Ironfeather wisdom

~~~

Gilda was hungry, alone, and afraid. She’d been gagged, blindfolded, and bound in the dark room for hours. She had given up trying to cut her way through her bonds and instead resorted to obsessing over the confrontation with her father. She couldn’t get over how calm and emotionless he was. Even after realizing the undeniable truth, that she was his daughter, he just walked away. Gilda didn’t know what had happened to the strong red-feather she idolized.

His emotions and temper once burned like a great fire, he was happier and louder than any other griffon when times were well. And he was fierce and terrifying when the clan was threatened. Otaktay always returned from battle victorious and still had a laugh that could fill a room. He was powerful in form and battle but loving and respectful in home. Gilda had learned how to do everything from him: fly, hunt, defend herself, survive, and intimidate. She was strong because of him.

And now she saw only a scared old cock. A weary red-feather who had no fight left.

Gilda begged the spirits for mercy as she wished she could undo it all.

The sound of a wooden door opening filled the room and Gilda realized she was no longer alone. She felt strong talons lift her from both sides and undoing her bindings. A voice met her ears.

“You will not speak unless spoken to. You will not eat or drink unless offered sustenance. You will follow us and walk the path of your brothers. If you falter, the ritual will end. Nod if you understand.”

Gilda struggled to see under the blindfold but nodded nonetheless. She felt the gag being removed from her beak and spit the wool fibers from her mouth.

It was the words she had heard long ago as she underwent her ordeal ritual. She had returned from the wilderness, and she had seen her spirit guide. But to pass the ritual and receive feather dye she would have to speak to her guide in the presence of elder Achak within the ceremonial kiva.

Gilda was lead through the pueblo and outside, she could hear the burning of torches signalling that the walk to the kiva would begin. It was a guarded ritual that only brotherhood members could witness but it was known to even the young clan members that the midnight walk on the top of the mesa would wend and wind to disorient those undergoing the trial and fill them with uncertainty.

Gilda felt a tail brush up against her beak and a talon tap her shoulder. Gilda knew this was the sign that another would join their walk through the roost, she gently opened and closed her beak to grasp on it. When she felt it tug she followed. It seemed she would not be the only one undergoing the brotherhood ritual tonight.

~~~

Chieftain Alsoomse sat in the darkest shadow of the underground kiva and watched elder Achak, ‘spirit’ in the old tongue, as he tended the fire in the center. Alsoomse was certain that every one of the oldest and wisest purple-feathers and blue-feathers were present along the wall of the circular kiva with her. It seemed no griffon wanted to miss out on the historic return of the chieftains supposed daughter.

Alsoomse frowned as she watched the forms of two young griffons as they slid down the wooden chute into the darkened room. They were still blindfolded and landed in a heap. Alsoomse pulled her dark cloak tighter around her and peered between her low-hanging blue crest-feathers to watch the one who called herself Gildalahi stand on all fours.

She felt her husband reach and grasp her claw in his own. Otaktay was trembling as he watched the female griffon make her way towards the fire and elder Achak. The ritual was about to begin.

~~~

Gilda was disoriented and hungry. She could feel the heat of a fire and knew she had been dropped into the kiva with another griffon. She wanted desperately to ask if it was Omawnakw but the firm and reassuring squeeze on her arm told her that her suspicions were correct. She was glad that she would not be alone as she underwent the ritual. She breathed a sigh of relief as they both got to all fours and slowly edged towards the warmth of the fire.

Elder Achak raised his claw and shook a hollow stick filled with grains to make the sound of falling rain.

Gilda and Omaw froze.

“You have travelled far, your body is weary, your mind exhausted, and your soul hungers for purpose as surely as your body does for nourishment.” Elder Achak once more shook the rain stick and two drum beats resounded within the kiva.

“You find yourself in mother earth once more, taking shelter from the elements and the tribulations of the outside world. The rain of hardship and the thunder of misfortune have taken their toll on you and you seek the warmth and shelter of a fire and cave to protect you.” The rain stick and drumbeats rose to a crescendo and then abruptly became soft. The gentle rustle of the rain stick and the murmuring thumps of the drums made up a quiet background noise as they formed a rhythmic beat.

Gilda and Omaw felt their blindfolds being untied and removed. When they finished blinking away their discomfort and adjusted the brightness of the fire and the darkness of the many cloaked figures at the edges of the room they had their eyes inevitably drawn to the great male griffon directly across the fire from them, flanked by four purple-feathered assistants. Two played the drums and two took their seats and stored the blindfolds away. They all bore their ceremonial garb and looked on with black painted faces.

Omaw knew the sight all too well, this would be the third time he had undergone this brotherhood ritual. But for Gilda it was the first. Neither had expected to have such a large audience of anonymous cloaked figures surrounding them however.

“You find sanctuary within mother earth but her strength is limited. She has birthed us all into the world from her womb to fly with father sky. But still we return to her when the rains fall, the winds blow, and the colds bite.” The drums crescendoed once again and the rain stick held by the great purple-feathered griffon shook vigorously.

“It is time for you to create strength of your own. You must master the lessons you have learned on your first journey into the wild and expand upon them. Your fledgling ordeal ritual was representative of your hatching from mother earth and taking your first few steps. You learned to feed yourself and survive. And in the cruelty of the elements you flourished. You found the strength within yourself and embraced the spirits. You heard the calling of your spirit, and you answered.”

The four purple feathered assistants began to hiss and blow air to simulate the whipping winds. The drumbeats crescendoed and elder Achak shook the rain stick vigorously once more while throwing a clawful of powder from his medicine bag onto the fire. A great plume of white flame illuminated the chamber and the wings of each of the purple-feather assistants extended in a flash.

Gilda peered around the room in the bright light to regard the cloaked spectators. The only things visible were the brief glimmers of light reflecting from their eyes and the dyed crest-feathers poking from the black-hooded cloaks they had drawn tight over their entire figures. She saw more purple feathers than she had ever seen in her life, and a large smattering of the rare blue feathers. The leaders.

“Your spirit has taken you far. You have found sanctuary but you must endure the elements that seem to permeate even the physical protections around you. No crafty creation of the mind or claw can stop the permeating chill that threatens even your soul. The rain and wind has turned to snow and the walls of the cave that mother earth has provided you with begin to freeze as the elements of the world encroach upon your very being.” The drumbeats stopped and the wooden mallets were scraped back and forth across the tanned hides slowly. The susurrations of the drums and whistling of the purple-feathers made the sound of wind blowing over an arctic tundra or of a frozen lake shifting.

Elder Achak set the rain stick aside and another clawful of powder was brought from the medicine bag and gently sprinkled on the fire as blue flames jumped forth. The kiva was painted in a deep blue light that seemed to suck the warmth from the room. The cool tones were terrifying in the darkness and Gilda felt a real shudder run up her spine.

“Clan mates Gildalahi and Omawnakw. You have been beset upon by the indifference of the world once more and must find the strength to survive. You must find where to turn to for warmth as your body freezes and your mind fails you. You must find the strength to endure this assault on your soul. Are you ready to begin?”

Gilda and Omaw looked at each other and slowly nodded to each other. Gilda felt like there was something else in the gaze that Omaw met her with. Something other than the flighty but daring griffon that had kissed her in a dream and fed a stranger. They turned and as one spoke to elder Achak. “I am”

Achak closed his eyes and nodded, “Then let us begin. Drink the blank drink Anhalonium once more and find your spirit. Only together may you survive.”

The two outermost purple-feather assistants approached Gilda and Omaw with an earthen cup of the the ‘black drink’. The hallucinogenic brew would put them into a vision quest and they would be unable to wake themselves as if it were a normal dream. With a tilt of the cup they both opened their beaks and felt the hot liquid slide into their throats. They held their breath and waited for it to end. Nothing was worse or more nauseating than actually tasting the foul substance on one’s tongue.

With a cough and wheeze, Gilda doubled over and resisted the urge to vomit immediately. Omaw looked at her briefly with concern and then laid down prone and looked into the fire. His eyes closed calmly and he drifted into his vision quest with practiced ease.

Gilda continued to cough and lowered herself into the comfortable position as well but did not find relief from the burning sensation in her belly. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the numbing sensation to hit her. She coughed once more raggedly and then forced her beak shut to clear her throat without looking like a fool. When she tried to open her eyes to look into the warm fire she realized she had already drifted into the vision quest.

~~~

Gilda was in a beautiful valley. The sun was radiant and the wind blew a gentle breeze across the plains. The view was picturesque and perfect. The shimmering wheat and rolling hills seemed to go on forever. Big fluffy white clouds painted the bright blue sky and there wasn’t a stormcloud to be found. With a leap for joy Gilda took wing and flew low across the fields. The breeze was strong enough to let her glide and run her talons through the tips of the wheat stalks as she rushed past them. She reveled in the serenity and happiness of the blissful vista but then remembered that she was being tested.

“Gildalahi! Where are you!?” Gilda searched left and right amongst the grains to find a flicker of the fiery purple phoenix. She flew faster and faster as rolling valleys made way for babbling creeks interspersed with tall shady oak trees and wild grasses. As Gilda looked to the river she noticed her purple spirit guide was shivering on a wet stone protruding from the river. She was motionless as the rapids rushed by her.

“Gildalahi!” Gilda screeched as she dove to the river. With a violent splash she landed in the river and cradled the soaking wet phoenix in her talons. She flapped her wings to lift herself slowly from the waters and approach the sandy shore. Gilda gently laid her spirit guide on the warm sand and began to check for signs of life. The mythical bird was breathing shallowly and was cold to the touch but Gilda knew what she needed was warmth. With practiced ease, Gilda did just as she had learned on her first ordeal and gathered dry grasses and wood from the prairie and fields. She took a piece of flint from the ground and a sharp stone from the river. In moments a small fire was created alongside the river and Gilda was holding her spirit guide close to her breast feathers to dry her out and absorb the warmth.

Gilda saw the first signs of life returning to Gildalahi. The phoenix opened her eyes and flexed her wings weakly. Gilda realized that she was hungry, and that her spirit guide was probably hungry as well. Laying down her spirit guide gently by the fire, Gilda sped to the river and adeptly caught two large salmon swimming upstream in the rapids. She returned to the campfire only to find that her spirit guide was missing. She looked around in panic.

“Gildalahi! Where have you gone!?”

“Caw!” The soft sound of the phoenix emanated from the fire itself.

Gilda looked down to see the head of a comfortable phoenix resting on a burning log like
a pillow amongst the bed of coals. “Stop goofin’ around, Gildalahi! Get out of there and let’s chow down.” Gilda threw one fillet of the raw salmon to her spirit guide and ate the other herself. She had never tasted food so succulent before. With a smile of pleasure she looked to the distant sky and noticed storm clouds rapidly approaching.

“We’d better find some shelter, Gildalahi, it won’t be long before it hits us, and it looks gnarly.”

The phoenix could only chirrup in agreement as they both took one last great bite of their meals and left the bones behind. They flew rapidly away from the storm. The rolling plains and grasslands changed into the forest and dry desert she once called home. The smell of ponderosa pine and ripe pinyon seeds met Gilda’s nostrils as she flew low sweeping arcs over the treetops with her spirit guide. The search for shelter drew them close to a mesa, but what caught her eye instantly was the grid-like pattern of a cultivated field at the base of the mesa.

Gilda circled once and noticed the rushing form of a male griffon darting between the plants rapidly harvesting every ear of maize, pod of beans, and vine of squash he could. Gilda glided in low and landed amidst the field softly and addressed her friend.

“Omaw, what are you doing? Don’t you see the storm approaching?” Gilda gestured to the great dark mass of thunderheads rolling in from the east with urgency. Gildalahi screeched in alarm as well as she looked at the torrential downpour and flashing thunder that was beginning to approach them.

“Perfect!” Omaw and Omawnakw hardly paused in their efforts to harvest as much of the field as possible. “Of course I have to share a dream with you during my ritual as well.” The male griffon sighed explosively, “There’s no time, Gilda! If I don’t harvest all of these crops the fields will burn just like the last two times! I need to be faster! The clan needs me!” Omaw was rushing and filling his baskets and satchels to bursting. There was no apparent danger of fire but Gilda would take the frustrated griffon’s words for it.

Gilda grasped the male by the shoulders and turned him to face her. “Omaw, we have to leave the harvest and get to shelter. Remember what old Achak said, we have to survive. The elements will crush us if we don’t find the strength!”

Gildalahi screeched at Omawnakw, the two spirit guides struggling as the smaller and more agile hummingbird darted around the slower and larger phoenix to get at a pods of beans.

Omaw sagged and looked to her in hopelessness. “I was a fool, this brotherhood ritual will end the same way it always does. With me alone and separated from my spirit guide as the fire consumes me. I will fail alone and the others will succeed. It has always been this way.” Omaw let the maize he was holding fall to the ground. His spirit guide landed on his head and looked downcast as well. “You should just fly away from here Gilda! I’ll only slow you down. Besides, you can’t possibly fail. You never told me you were the daughter of Alsoomse, the Chieftain!”

Gilda reeled from the words. She had no idea her mother was the chieftain. When Gilda had fled home the blue-feather that gave birth to her was simply a leader. It seems that much more than she knew had changed.

But Gilda knew she couldn’t abandon Omaw. She reflected on the way Rainbow Dash had abandoned her in every dream she had for the last week. How her salvation was torn away from her just as surely as their friendship was torn asunder. Gilda would not turn her back on a friend, not when they needed her.

Gilda also dwelled on the fact that the brotherhood ritual was always attempted in groups. The ordeal ritual was done as an individual and the vision quest was meant to identify the ability to survive and find shelter. Almost an exact copy of how this one had gone so far. But Gilda did not expect to once again be sharing a dream with Omaw. There had to be a purpose behind it, she reasoned.

Suddenly, a wall of fire burst over the mesa top and approached the fields. Finding a cliffside cave dwelling would be out of the question now. Gilda turned to look at Omaw and grabbed him forcefully as he had sulked to the ground and resigned himself to hopelessness. “Omaw, listen to me! I didn’t know who or what my parents were when I returned. You were the first griffon I’d seen in years. If you want to pass this test we have to work together, there’s a reason the brotherhood is always done in groups and I think it’s because we’re meant to be in each others’ dreams!” Gilda held on fast to the male griffon as he looked at the approaching elements in fear.

“What would you have me do Gilda? I’m no purple-feather. I know nothing of the spirits. I’m too weak to fight, I’ve got no strength. I gather my crops, harvest, pollinate, zip around and work work work like a busy little hummingbird. I have no other use to the clan, it’s only logical that you succeed in my stead. I’ll support you, just, go on without me!” Omaw struggled in vain against the larger female as the flames of the fire reached the fields. His instincts to flee from danger were nearly overpowering.

“Logic shmogic, dweeb! I need your help!” The thunderstorm boomed on the east side of the field and the fire raged on the west side of the field. Two extremes rolling to collide right on the center where the griffons stood.

Gilda noticed her own spirit guide holding the smaller emerald hummingbird in its talons as well. The situations were mirrored, exact copies.

Gilda looked down at Omaw and pondered their differences, the phoenix and the hummingbird. “You’re just like your spirit guide, Omaw! That’s your strength! You tend to the fields, and you’re so busy that you forget to live your life. Your hard work doesn’t drive others away, it drives you away from others. There’s no need to feel alone. You have to stop being content with just doing your duty! The hummingbird is a symbol of vitality and determination. It shows that even the lightest and smallest creature can fly high and fast. You’ve got that same strength! Be the griffon that invited a stranger into their home and kissed her!” Gilda felt heat rise within her cheeks and she held Omaw close. She didn’t want to let him go because she knew he’d be lost to the storm winds or the fire flames.“We’re in this together. We either help each other as friends or fail as individuals.”

Omaw sobered up as he realized the truth of the words and he poured his heart forth. “You’re just like yours, Gilda! You are so beautiful and special, but you’re afraid of how different it makes you. You put so much effort into making yourself seem ‘cool’ and aloof but all it does is drive others away from your true self. Your fiery feathers burn all that would come close to you because you can’t believe that someone might like you for who you really are. And when you’re under stress you explode and start over. You lash out at the world and run away, just like you did from your home. You have to stop trying to be what you are not. The phoenix is a symbol of undying knowledge and passion. You understand others, connect with them, inspire them, and see what makes you different from them and value those differences.” Omaw was panting. The heat and moisture of the fire and downpour was upon them. He knew he didn’t have much time left until his body and mind would be burned away, leaving only his soul to be nestled by his spirit guide.

Gilda heard his words and took them to heart.

Omaw spoke to Gilda one final time as the elements closed in on them, “I am glad you remained with me Gilda, I’d hate to fail alone once more.”

They both knew it was only moments before the only thing left was their souls and spirit guides.

Gilda was glad she could always count on her spirit guide to protect her. Omaw had said it was a part of her, after all.

Gilda blinked as she drowned in a deluge of understanding.

“It’s us.”

Omaw looked up to the female, “What?”

“Our spirit guides, they always live with our souls because they’re us. We are our spirit guides. They’re a part of us, just like you said!”

Omaw blinked in confusion.

Gilda frowned and looked to Gildalahi. The phoenix was hovering calmly next to her and watching her with patience. “Gildalahi, I’m ready. I want to take the next step down my path. Protect me from the elements. Give me your strength, give us our strength.” Gilda held a claw towards the phoenix and felt the burning purple bird land on her extended talon. With a rush of vertigo her perspective shifted into the eyes of the phoenix. She turned her new head and looked to where she once stood and saw nothing.

Omaw gasped. He turned to Omawnakw and with a slow gesture he cupped his talon and made a small spot for the delicate hummingbird to rest in.

Omawnakw sat into Omaw’s talon and looked at the griffon expectantly.

“Is it really so simple, Omawnakw? We’ve been together for so long and gone through so much, are we truly one and the same?” The hummingbird remained still and regarded the griffon. “Make our strength as one Omawnakw, we can only pass this test together, as one.” Omaw felt his vision distort and his perspective shifted to that of his spirit guide. His body was no longer sitting in the field and the baskets and harvested crops all fell into a pile.

Omawnakw looked to Gildalahi and blinked in awe. The duo felt the winds pick up around them and looked about in fear. It seemed the test was not quite finished. They both dove to the fertile soil below and held onto the vines of the squash with their much smaller claws.

The thunderstorm and the forest fire slammed into each other and then swirled into white mist. The intense flames and thick rains mixed and whirled until the entire world was coated in snow. A gigantic wall of wind surrounded the two griffons in the shape of their spirit guides. They were in the center of the storm. The eye of it was calm but eerie as the temperature plummeted and the two glowing feathered creatures watched the harvest freeze and shatter around them.

“G-gildala-ahi,” Omawnakw forced out through a chattering beak, his small form was the first to feel the bite of the arctic temperatures. “I just want-t t-to t-thank you for ev-verything.”

Gildalahi reached with her large fiery phoenix wings to embrace the small hummingbird and keep it warm. “I couldn’t have d-done it without you, Omawnakw, you are the f-first one - pony or griffon - that showed me my t-true self. Remember, if we f-fail this test, we fail it t-together, as friends.”

The two avian forms embraced tightly as the wall of ice and snow spiralled in closer and closer. Their feathered embrace was slowly being encased in ice. Their senses were dulled and overloaded by the freezing temperatures and thundering noise. And then, just as soon as the storm had begun, it dissipated.

“No, Omawnakw and Gildalahi, you will pass this test, as brothers of the Ironfeather Clan.”

A large glowing purple eagle landed amidst the thawing field and the sun appeared high above to part the overcast winter sky and bring the warmth of summer once more. The shimmering purple bird flexed its wings and folded them to its sides as it looked upon the two newest members of the brotherhood. The spirit guide of Elder Achak spoke once more to them directly.

“Open your eyes, Omawnakw and Gildalahi, and embrace your brethren.”

Gildalahi and Omawnakw looked to the sky and saw a myriad of winged spirit guides soaring around them. Three spirit guides broke away from the flock to glide down to the trio standing on the earth. A blue falcon and a red hawk landed beside the purple phoenix. A yellow owl landed beside the green hummingbird.

The purple eagle spoke once more with finality, “When you ascend from the womb of mother earth tonight, you will both be reborn into the world as brothers. Not just with the ones you hold dear, but with the ones that have joined the spirits as well.”

As Elder Achak finished speaking through his spirit form another figure joined them. A red cardinal swooped in low to land next to the green hummingbird and the yellow owl. Both families embraced, immortal souls reaching across time and space to reaffirm their bonds.

~~~

Gildalahi sat atop Black Mesa looking west as the sun faded. She reflected that only a few days ago she was in Ponyville, Equestria. She was walking out of a bakery and calling her best friend a flip-flop. With harsh words and a rude temper, Gilda said Rainbow Dash should contact her again when she wasn’t being lame. She walked away from her only friend and her old life.

“Gilda, dinner is ready!”

Gilda turned to look at the head of Omawnakw poking from the entrance to the grand pueblo. She knew now where her true friends were. For the first time in five years, she didn’t feel lame or different. She didn’t feel the need to change herself or behave in a certain way to get what she wanted. She didn’t need to pretend to earn approval. Her fiery temperament was slowly losing its control of her and she had a support net of individuals who understood where she was coming from. She had found herself.

Alsoomse, Chieftain of Clan Ironfeather, moved to sit beside her daughter and wrapped a comforting wing around her. “What are you thinking about, my little purple-feather?” She peered under her blue feathers at her daughter and smiled reassuringly. She knew it would take time to fully heal the divide that existed between them, but progress was made with every word and embrace.

Gilda looked up at her mother under her freshly dyed purple crest feathers and smirked, “Just thinking about all of the lame-o ponies I made the mistake of living with for the last five years.” Gilda looked to the ground and chuckled to herself. She idly flicked a loose rock off the mesa before looking up to the sunset in the west and the ocean that divided the Griffon lands and Equestria.

“Don’t be so quick to dismiss your old acquaintances, Gildalahi. As you learned in your brotherhood ritual, the greatest strength of all comes from others. The bonds we share make us greater as a whole than we ever could be as individuals.” Alsoomse leaned to nudge her daughter playfully. “I think you will return to that distant place some day, and you will have the strength of your friends and family to support you when you do. But for now, just remember elder Achak’s words, ‘Don’t let yesterday, use up too much of today.’” Alsoomse smiled at her daughter.

Gilda smiled, “Thanks, mom, I won’t forget.”

Alsoomse chuckled softly and Gilda looked up at her in confusion. The chieftain looked pensively to the horizon and narrowed her eyes, “What is it they call the daughters of the leaders in Equestria again? Princess?” Alsoomse looked askance and saw her daughters smile disappear in horror. “Ah yes, princess, such a pretty little title, don’t you agree?”

Gilda frowned at her mother, “Don’t, even, think about it.”

Alsoomse looked to her daughter and laughed, “Oh... Come now, Gildalahi, surely you don’t mind being known as a griffon princess. I’m sure little Omawnakw would love to call you that.”

“NOT gonna happen, Mom!” Gilda crossed her forearms and huffed. She threw a warning gaze up at her blue-feathered mother through her purple-feathers and felt a little jab in her side.

Alsoomse began to poke Gilda with a curled up talon. It almost instantly devolved into tickling. The mother continued to tickle torture the daughter through her protestations and only paused when the tell-tale sign of hiccups began. Alsoomse missed hearing her daughter’s hiccups after making her laugh too hard.

“What was -hic- that for!?” Gilda said in an almost painful mixture of happiness and discomfort.

Alsoomse smiled and raised her daughter, “I just wanted to make sure you were real.”

Gilda rolled her eyes. “Yeah -hic- well, I’m real, so cut it out. Now let’s go eat, I’m starving. 1-2-3 go!”

Gilda raced her mother to the pueblo.

She was home.

Author's Note

This was written for the Equestria Daily Flash Fanfiction Event #4: SQUAWK!

I had never imagined writing a griffon story before and I hate having to break canon, so I had to choose between a Gilda story and a Gustave LeGrand story. The choice was obvious but the setting was not. Gilda doesn't have a french accent or any real hobby besides being a jerk. I decided to take up a "Native American" theme mixing elements of Algonquin, Hopi, and other tribe imagery. The setting of the "Native Griffon Lands" would be something similar to the Santa Fe, New Mexico area in my mind with mesas and mountains along the Rio Grande (Twinfeather River).

If you notice some similarities between the brotherhood ritual and the hearth's warming eve pageant then high five! That was exactly what I was going for. I wanted to have a deep cultural connection that would connect the griffons to their ancestors and the idea of coming together as friends to survive a harsh winter was too good of a metaphor and symbolic gesture to pass up.

I also wanted to tackle the idea of cutie marks as applied to griffons and that's where the whole idea of dying the crest-feathers different colors to represent roles came in. But more importantly I wanted to have the spirit guides, which as you know are more than just guides, be something that griffons use to differentiate themselves from each other and feel special. I find that humans tend to do that with clothes, mostly because we are so vain and materialistic. But if griffons were to be spiritual and very tight-knit communities then the idea of a self-identifier might be more important and special to them and not be shared as openly as a tattoo on their butts.

I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. It was certainly uncharted territory and very challenging.

Submitted to EQD on 7/15/13 for Flash Fanfiction Event #4