A Griffon Named Gilda

by Hodd

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Sad, Other, Rainbow Dash, Gilda, Tragedy
Length: 7848

Left by her parents in an orphanage, Gilda must make her way through life, day by day.

REWRITTEN
-I've added about 2,000 words overall to the story, and clarified some issues that people had.

Two parents are forced to give up their child, leaving her to the fate of an orphanage with a dark secret. Every day is a struggle when the place you live crushes your hope further each day.

/> Gilda always gets all of the flak from writers, so I thought I'd write a story that gives her a lighter side, and perhaps explains why she is the way she is. Also, please give me all the feedback you can! Suggestions, comments, concerns, and questions are all welcomed!

EDIT: I changed the cover. It no longer uses the same cover image as Feathers.

Published 2012-03-28 21:24:03 UTC
Last updated 2012-03-28 21:24:03 UTC

Letting Go.

It was a warm spring afternoon. Liza was feeding Gilda, still barely out of the hospital, when the front door swung open, revealing a male griffon, wearing a business hat, and holding a briefcase. "Oh, hi, Ray! I'm in the kitchen with Gilda!" She could hear him approach, slowly and lazily. "Anything wrong, hun?" she inquired. Ray sighed, and laid his hat on the table. "We uh... We have a bit of a problem," he said, obviously fighting a lump in his throat. "What kind of problem?" Liza replied. "Today, they made some budget cuts, and they let me go," replied the male griffon. A small gasp escaped Liza's beak. "Oh Celestia, what are we going to do?"
"I uh... I don't know." He blinked several times, obviously holding back tears of frustration and fear. "Oh, honey, I'm sure we'll think of something," replied the female griffon. "Just give it time."
"I hope you're right. I mean, with no job, how can we take care of Gilda?"
"Don't talk like that!" she snapped. "We'll find a way."

Gilda looked up at her parents, curious to the situation, and cocked her head. Liza's features softened at the gesture, and let several tears slip out from closed eyes. "We'll think of a way," she said. "We have to. We owe it to Gilda to give her a future." Ray could simply nod in agreement. Times were tough, but Gilda meant the world to them. She had become the center of their lives, and a beacon of happiness for them. "I uh, I'll go look in the paper for some job openings," the male griffon said finally. Liza nodded in acknowledgment, and went back to feeding Gilda. "We'll find a way," she repeated. "We have to."

It was late when Ray came home, and Liza was sitting in the dining room, eager to hear the news. "Any luck with the jobs?" she asked, desperately hoping for a yes from her husband. Instead came a low sigh. "No... 'No openings for a griffon,' they say. Discriminating bastards." She slumped over the table, a feeling of defeat burdening her shoulders. She felt Ray's arm wrap around her, and leaned into him. "What are we going to do?"
"I don't know, sweetie." His face became set in lines of anguish. Tears fell from his face. "What are we going to do about Gilda?" asked Liza, still desperate for answers. "What if we don't have enough to take care of her? What if-" she cut herself off, too terrified of completing her sentence.

"We'll give it another week," offered Ray. "If I can't find a job by then... then you know what we have to do."
"You can't mean-" she pleaded. He nodded slowly in response. It pained him to do so. Letting go of their daughter would crush them both. Even through these hard times, Gilda brought them through it, her grinning face giving them hope.

Ray said nothing as he slowly navigated his way up the stairs, tail dragging behind him. "I'm gonna go to bed," he announced, shortly before disappearing from her view. "I'll be up in a bit," she replied. He let out a low sigh as he cracked open the door to Gilda's room. She was so serene, so peaceful. He let a small smile spread across his face, as he leaned down, and nuzzled her forehead. "I love you Gilda."

No sooner did the front door swing open to reveal a pitiful male griffon did the words, "It's been a week," echo through the house. Ray trudged in, barely finding the willpower to make his way to the kitchen, and slump forward on the table, head buried in his arms. Liza was surprised by this. Usually he was positive, and upbeat, trying to find the brighter side of a situation. Now, his positive demeanor turned into anguish, as sobs came from the broken griffon. She reached an arm around him, trying to console the broken soul before her.

"Nopony had any job openings," she heard him choke out. "In less than a week, we'll be bankrupt." That sentence hit Liza like a brick. Bankrupt. It was then that she understood the severe gravity of the situation. Her face contorted into sorrow, and small sobs gave way to open weeping. They both knew what had to be done. They both knew that keeping Gilda would send them into poverty, and that was no way to raise a child. Ray looked up at liza, a look of both sorrow and resoluteness defined his features. She gave a small nod in return.

Ray and Liza approached a large red brick building. It was late, about midnight. Ray held a basket in one claw, a small brown and white figure sleeping under a blanket inside. The two had talked about it for the better part of a week, but now that it was actually happening, all the composure they had gained crumbled, giving way to unconsolable crying. It was time, they knew. Holding on to her any longer would just make the pain that much more bitter. He set the basket down on the doorstep, kissing the baby griffon one last time before saying goodbye. "I love you, Gilda," he said before attaching a small note onto the basket.

It read simply;
My name is Gilda. I need a home.

Liza followed Ray to the street, looking back to see a pony grab the basket and slowly bring it inside. "Goodbye," she said in a whisper, a bitter sense of finality bringing tears to her eyes. "Thanks for being the best part of our lives, even if only for a short time."

The East Wing.

"But... But I don't want to go to East Wing!" The voice was Gilda's, still young, and afraid. The East wing was where all orphans went once they were old enough to begin school. She had heard stories about it; about it being cruel and unforgiving. She had known no other life than that of the Filly Wing, and was still terrified of change.

She was just old enough to begin school, but frankly, a little young to be put in the East Wing. Perhaps it was the fact that she was a griffon which was why the caretakers thought it necessary to move her up. Griffon or not, she was terrified of the East Wing. She had made friends, and was finally starting to build relationships in the Filly Wing (Most fillies were terrified of her for years up to this point, having never seen a griffon before).

"You are now at the age to require schooling," explained the caretaker. "You must go to the East Wing to begin your education if you ever want to survive in the real world." Gilda was taken back at this. Survive? She thought about that a moment, soaking in the caretaker's words. "Okay," she finally choked out, nearly to the point of shaking.

The caretaker leaned back in her chair, examining the small griffon. "Good," she said simply. "You'll start tomorrow." Gilda gasped. Tomorrow?

The hallway leading to the East wing seemed to stretch forever, prolonging the journey to the place Gilda dreaded. Each step she took only heightened her fear. The doors themselves were made of some sort of heavy steel or iron material, as if to keep something in. Gilda braced herself, then went inside.

The interior of the East Wing was much the same as the rest of the orphanage. It was essentially another long hallway, slightly wider than the one leading into it, with doors on either side, and the occasional empty space filled with furniture, and other assorted objects.

Ponies from all ages were collected in this area. Some were her age, and some seemed to be nearly adults. The younger ones stared at her with apprehension, as she made her way to the end of the East Wing, while the older ponies gave her looks of could have been criticism, but had an underlying tone of malice.

She ducked her head, trying to no avail not to be seen by all of the new faces. Finally, she reached the office of the East Wing's "Warden," as the ponies here liked to call her. She took a deep breath and opened the door, still apprehensive of the whole situation.

"Ah yes, come in, come in. Gilda is it?" Gilda could only nod as the old white unicorn towered over her just beyond her desk. "Please have a seat, won't you?" she asked, meaning it as a command. Gilda complied and took a seet in the small, wooden, red velvet chair across from the Warden.

"Welcome to the beautiful East Wing!" exclaimed the Warden leaning back, and throwing her arms in the air as some sort of theatric attempt. Gilda only stared at her with a mix of confusion and apprehension. The Warden let a small, dry laugh escape her. "Not one for theatrics are you?" She didn't wait for Gilda to respond before explaining the situation in detail.

"Now that you are of age to be educated properly, you have been moved to the East Wing. You will remain here until somepony comes to adopt you, whenever that may be." That last part was unexpected, and stung. Gilda cocked her head in skepticism towards the older pony. The Warden continued regardless.

"Here you will be educated just as you would be in public school. You will have classes with other students, you will be given the proper shelter you require, and you will be cared for as best as the staff here knows how. Now, due to your unique... appearance, we thought it would be best if you had your own room, for the sake of the other residents," she explained.

Gilda cocked her head. "Well what is that supposed to mean?" The Warden leaned forward in her chair looking Gilda straight in the eye, a certain cold expression on her. "It means," she began. "That you aren't like us. You are different. We can't have non-ponies being roomed with regular ponies. It isn't the way things are.

The last statement stung her deeply. She had never really even considered herself different until now. Now I think I know why they call her 'The Warden,' she thought to herself. She hadn't realized that the Warden was awaiting a response from her. She forced out a reply. "So, uh... What now?" The Warden leaned back, looking down her snout at the young griffon, examining her with her small circular spectacles.

"Now," she explained, "you begin your life in the East Wing. Your first class is in room 348. Don't be late. Mr. Adams hates it when ponies are late to his class." With that, she got up, and started down the hall. Her mind replayed all of the stories the other fillies had told her. Let's hope the stories are wrong.

Building Bridges

"You're late," announced Mr. Adams, as Gilda opened the door to the small derelict classroom. "Sorry, Mr. Adams. The Director wanted to see me before I reported to class," she explained, placing a single 3 ring binder on an empty desk. "Just don't let it happen again. I'd hate to have to give the newest member of the class detention," he said, voice enamored with condescension.

She took a look around the classroom. The young mares and colts looked to be slightly older than her. Most were faced forward, occasionally shooting her a look of a strange mix made up of apprehension and malice. Most of the rest were either paying attention, doodling, or asleep.

The first day of class went about as expected. "So, what exactly are you?" several ponies asked. One pony in particular walked up with an ill intentioned smirk on his face. His colors matched his attitude. His coat was a dark matte grey, and his mane a jet black with only the slightest hints of red. "So was your mom an eagle and your dad a lion? Man, that's messed up. Is that what they do where you're from?"

Gilda's jaw dropped at this. How could somepony be so cold, so cruel to someone he had never met? "Hey, leave her alone!" came a voice she hadn't heard before. Gilda was surprised by the outburst. It was from a sizable dark blue earth colt with a bright yellow mane. "Just 'cause she's different doesn't mean that you can make fun of her like that!"

The colt that had made fun of her backed off. "You okay?" asked the blue earth pony. She only nodded, a tear forming in her eye. "Look, don't let old Fang get to you. He's the jerk of the East Wing."
"Fang?" She asked, obviously confused. "That's what all the other ponies here in the East Wing call him. Mostly 'cause of the mouth he's got," the friendly earth pony answered. Gilda let a small smile form. "What's your name?" she asked. "Well, most here just call me Buck," he answered. "I'm Gilda," she responded.

Buck smiled. "Pleased to meet you, Gilda. Just tell me if any of Fang's thugs start messin' with ya," he said with a small friendly wink, about to return to his desk. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Fang approach. Her heart sank. She had barely been able to cope with the last verbal barrage that Fang had just launched at her. He was advancing fast, and not an instant after, he was snout to snout with her.

"I don't know who you are, or where you came from, but here, things ain't as pretty as they look, so can the innocent little filly act, cause that don't fly here." A small, malicious grin spread across his face. He turned, and strode towards the door. "Welcome to the East Wing," he called out. Gilda's jaw dropped once more. Not an hour in this place, and she's already made enemies.

She felt a hoof rest on her shoulder. "Hey, you ok?" It was Buck. She could only nod as tears formed in her eyes. "Here in the East Wing, you gotta stick with your friends. Sometimes it's about all you got." Friends... Gilda felt a small warmth in her. She may have made enemies, but she also made a friend.

It was now four years that Gilda had been in the East Wing. For the most part, she was left alone, likely due to her close friendship with Buck. He had always been larger than the other ponies, but as time went on, and other ponies slowed in their growth, his continued, building his figure into one that rivaled even the burliest of stallions.

Gilda, herself, had become a strong, healthy griffon with a certain determination in her eye that one can only understand if they've seen it firsthand. It was this determination that allowed her to survive in the East Wing. She had decided, not long after entering, that she would not let this place break her, and would do whatever it took to keep herself together.

She, of course, still owed a lot of her strength to Buck. He'd become a big brother of sorts for Gilda, always backing her up in an argument, and making sure she was fairing well. She felt safe with him around. The East Wing would truly have been a nightmare, had he not been there. In all honesty, he was the closest thing to a family she'd ever had.

"Hey Buck?" questioned Gilda. "Yeah? Whatcha need?" Buck replied, giving her a playful punch on the shoulder.. "I'm glad you're here," she replied, sincerity evident in her voice. Buck's face softened. "I'm glad you're here too." A loving grin spread across his face as he embraced her in a brotherly-like hug.

"But don't get all sappy on me," he said playfully, giving a playful noogie. Gilda couldn't help but to laugh. Buck had always known how to push her buttons, and make her laugh. It was a special talent he developed over the years that only made their connection stronger.

Gilda at times lay awake at night, thinking. Thinking about Buck, and how he'd always been there for her. Then there was that one thought; that one thought that haunted the very depths of her mind, and sent a chill down her spine everytime she thought of it. What if someone comes and adopts him?

She would always shake that thought out of her head. In the back of her mind, she knew it was likely to happen, but she hated thinking about it. Instead, she preferred to think about the present, and enjoy the company while it lasted.

Even in the toughest of times, she appreciated his presence. Out of all the ponies that crowded the East Wing, he chose her to stick by. It was a thought that brought not only warmth, but also a slight amount of confusion to her.

"Hey Buck?" she asked one day. Buck looked over with that big grin he was always sporting. "You're not gonna get all sappy on me are ya?" he said with a boyish laugh. "Well, kinda," Gilda replied giggling. She took a breath, and a more serious tone took over. "Out of all the ponies here, why did you choose me? What's so special about me?"

Buck's face twisted slightly in thought, trying to come up with the right words. At last, he spoke. "Because. None of them were as special as you. It's not all that often that you get to meet a griffon." A smile began to form. "But it's more than that, Gilda. You were so innocent when you came here, that I couldn't bare to see that corrupted. A beautiful heart doesn't deserve to be in this place. But if one finds its way here, it at least deserves a family. And that's what I wanted to give you.

Gilda welled up. Buck wasn't a colt of many words, but his speech touched her. A tear flowed from her face, as she pressed her head into his chest in an embrace. From the bottom of her heart, she uttered a sentence she'd never before been able to say to anypony. "I love you, Buck."

Alone

It was a sunny day, not unlike all others, as Gilda happily made her way back from the yard into the East Wing. Times had become easy for the griffon over the last year or so. She was getting straight A's in school, ponies began to come out and socialize with her, and Fang finally gave up on trying to harass her.

She trotted down the long East Wing hallway, a grin forming on her face. She was off to see Buck. Visiting Buck was the highlight of her day when it came to living in this otherwise dreary place. She had even taken to calling him "Big Bro." It was true, too. Buck had, in many ways, been her older sibling.

It was amazing how well the two got along. Laughs were a near constant, and arguments were few and far between. And virtually all of the arguments the two somewhat bullheaded adolescents got into ended up in a fit of laughter, and jeering.

"Hey Big Br-" she called out as she rounded the corner into Buck's room. She eyed his bed, and noted that it was empty. Furthermore, the various knick-knacks and bobbles on his end table were missing as well. Her heart sank. "Buck?" she called through the hallway of the East Wing. "Buck!?" This time a bit louder.

"He ain't here," answered a sinister voice, the slightest amount of amusement in his voice. "Fang," she said, cursing at the very mention of the name. "Or should I call you Maurice?" This enraged the greyscale pony. "No one calls me that! You got it?! You may have been able to test me with your precious Buck around, but he's been adopted, left you behind, and now, you're alone."

Alone. That word shot around her mind like a bullet. "Whatever, Fang. I know you're just screwing with me, so knock it off. I know he's here somewhere." Fang gave a small, indifferent shrug. "Well," he began, "suit yourself. If you don't believe me, fine. It'll just make it that much harder when you come back to reality, and realize that your 'Big Bro,' is gone." A vindictive smile formed on his face, as he chuckled to himself, and departed.

Gilda's heart raced. Could it be true? Is Buck gone? She shook her head furiously. No, no it can't be! He's here somehwere! She was off like a shot, down the hall way of the East Wing to her own room, desperately hoping they were caught in some silly instance of cat and mouse. Once again, a sinking feeling filled her chest and down into her stomach as she saw that her room, as well, was empty.

Panic struck her, and her breathing increased. Oh, no no no no no no. He can't be gone. He can't be! She looked wildly side to side, up and down the East Wing, desperately looking for a streak of dark blue, or a flash of yellow, indicating his person. Instead, it was the normal hum drum drone the East Wing, no sign of Buck to be found.

She began asking random ponies, ones she didn't even know, one after another, desperately trying to find an answer, but all replies were the same;
'Nope.'
'No, sorry, haven't seen him since yesterday.'
'Didn't he get adopted?'
'Nah, last I heard, a family of pegasi came and picked him up.'

Gilda was in full panic. She raced through the hallways, desperation clouding her thoughts, making her actions erratic and unpredictable. It wasn't until a hoof rested on her shoulder did she stop looking. She whipped around, to see the Warden, a certain indifferent expression plastered on her face.

"If you're looking for your friend, 'Buck,' I'm afraid he's been adopted. I'm terribly sorry. Now please, stop your searching. It's becoming a nuisance." With that, she was off, striding back to her office, arrogance nearly palpable in her bubble of authority.

Gilda, overwhelmed, trudged to her room, and collapsed into her bed. Buck, the one pony who stuck by her, the one pony who truly cared for her was gone, and the Warden couldn't have cared less. She wept into her pillow, grief enshrouding her, covering her in a dark haze. Grief slowly turned into frustration, and then anger, and then rage.

How could she be so indifferent? So cruel!? She clenched her fists in fury. Her arm wound back, and struck the wall, leaving a large indentation in it. Less than a minute later, an irritated voice funneled into her room. "Hey, could you keep it down?" The voice came from a pony standing in the doorway of her room. It was the pony who lived in the room next door to hers, the one who's wall she had punched.

Gilda inhaled and exhaled deeply, anger visible in her body language. She rose from her bed and approached the pony. Fast. "Get out. Now." Even the most dimwitted of ponies knows not to confront an angry griffon. He chuckled nervously, and backed up on his hind legs, forelegs raised in the air, as if terrified to make a move.

"Hey, uh my bad, I mean, punching the wall, that's cool. I mean, ya gotta do what ya gotta do, right?" a nervous chuckle once again found its way out of his mouth. Gilda wasn't amused. "So uh, yeah, I'll just, uh... get going." He sprinted away, past his own room, rounded a corner, and was out of sight.

Gilda huffed, as if challenging the pony to come back. She laid back in her bed, mind racing. It was evening, she realized, noting the orange glow of the sun on the shades of her room. Gilda let out a sigh, closing her eyes and concentrating. Her thoughts clouded, and her anger subsided as sleep wrapped her in its welcoming embrace.

Her slumber wasn't without interruptions, however. A certain dream plagued her mind over and over. Her eyes flinched as images flashed in her mind. Sweat formed on her brow, and mixed with the tears forming in her eyes.

She sat straight up in her bed, gasping. Her features faded into sorrow however, as she recollected her dream. Buck's face flashed in her dream over and over. Memories of their old antics flooded in. She gave into her grief and wept.

All of those memories they shared seemingly for nothing. All the adventures and talks they had may as well never have happened. Buck was truly her only special connection. He was the only one that actually took the time to understand her. Now, she was alone.

Alone. She'd never had to cope with that before. Even in her days in the filly wing, there were several fillies that she had talked with, and would even consider friends. All that was gone, however. Besides Buck, her relationships were... well nonexistent.

All this was too much for her. Her mind frenzied for options, but came up with nothing. Her future, it seems, was bleak. She knew that adoption was virtually not a possibility. Who would adopt a freak? she asked herself. She sighed, and returned her still teary eyes into the familiar comfort of her pillow. Her thoughts quieted as she wept, sleep finally returning to the broken griffon.

Pushed Too Far

The loss of Buck had robbed her of all ambition, and sleep seemed her only companion. It was the only thing she could count on to always be there. As days passed, time spent outside her room became a rare occurrence. She looked at her calender after several days. It was monday. A school day.

She looked at the clock. It's hands indicated it was 9:37. She grumbled to herself. Shit. I'm late. A small pang of surprise hit her. Even in her thoughts her language never quite exceeded past the occasional slip of the word 'damn.' She shook this out of her mind, and started off to class.

Every step felt like a chore, seemingly harder each time. Seconds seemed like hours, as she made her way through the suddenly depressing East Wing. It seemed like an eternity before the door to Mr. Adams' class was finally in front of her. She let out a sigh, and pushed open the door, preparing for one of his infamous lectures.

"You're late," Mr. Adams said plainly. Gilda cringed slightly at this, almost hoping she stayed in her room. "Yeah, yeah," she said, shrugging off the statement. Mr. Adams turned and faced towards the class, specifically, Gilda, one eyebrow raised. "Any particular reason?" he asked. Gilda simply shrugged. "Overslept," she replied plainly. "See me after class," replied Mr. Adams, eyebrow still raised.

Gilda sighed and slunk into her desk, all too aware of the hushed laughter and stares she was receiving. Yeah, keep laughing it up, see what happens, she thought, irritated at the immaturity displayed by the ponies in the room. She gripped a pencil, and began to take notes.

"Today we will be learning about the founding of Equestria," Mr Adams began. Seconds ticked into minutes, and Gilda soon found that she held no interest in what was being taught, and simply stared out the window, Mr. Adams' lecture slowly morphing into a drone of incomprehensible mumbling. She observed the birds flitting about, and taking flight, and for the first time, truly realized her lack of freedom.

It was the repeated saying of her name that brought her back to reality. "Wuh- huh?" she said out loud, more than a little confusion evident in her voice. Mr. Adams was staring directly at her, once again, one eyebrow raised. "Well?" he inquired. "Do you have the answer?" Gilda looked around the classroom. All of the other ponies were staring, expectantly awaiting an answer.

"Twelve?" she asked, mind numbed with fear and embarrassment. A large burst of laughter erupted from the room, causing her cheeks to burn a fiery pink. Mr. Adams stared at her further. "Funny," he said. "Once again, see me after class." Gilda sighed, and rested her head in her hands, on the verge of weeping.

The harsh metallic ringing of the bell woke her. Damn, I fell asleep. Mr. Adams is gonna have my head for this. She gathered her things, and, head low, tried to escape with the flow of ponies. "Oh, Gilda," Mr. Adams called out. "I believe you and I have some business to attend to." She froze in place, let out a groan of frustration, and trudged to the front of the class where Mr. Adams awaited.

"Gilda," he began, "I know it's hard since Buck left, but three behavior problems in one class period cannot go without punishment. I'm afraid I have to give you detention. You'll be staying after school on Wednesday, cleaning the chalk board." Gilda, once again, let out an irritated groan, and found her way to the door.

She was stopped by three ponies, one of whom being Fang. "Well looky what we got here," he said, a sadistic smile on his face. "Looks like our little cat-bird-thing thinks she's real funny." Gilda's anger once again boiled inside her. "Fang, I'm going to tell you this once; get out of my way."

He let out an incredulous laugh. "Hah! Or what? You'll yell at me? Tell on me to Buck? Heh, why don't you-" he was cut off by a quick flash, and then an intense burning on his face. The two thugs that had tagged along backed away, and darted off down the hallway.

"Ow! Mother of Celestia! What did you do?!" He reached to his face, and immediately felt a warm sticky liquid coat his hoof. Three gashes under his right eye oozed crimson. "You scratched me?! What's wrong with you!? You bitch-" he was cut off by the blunt force of Gilda's knuckles. Stars flashed in his eyes, just before darkness and dismay distorted his vision. He came to just before his head struck the hardwood, emitting a sickening hollow thud.

He lay there unmoving. Chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm, indicating unconsciousness. Well, at least I didn't kill him, thought Gilda. It was strange looking down at the defeated form of the pony who had ridiculed her so. It made her feel powerful; dominant. It felt... good.

A shriek of terror from on onlooker disrupted her thoughts. Her head snapped up, eyes wide, grasping what she had just done. The next sound to register in her mind was the fast approach of hoofsteps. Her mind raced. Oh, shit, oh shit! "Gilda! What in Equestria have you done?!" She recognized the voice as Mr. Adams, his usual indifferent demeanor replaced by surprise and panic.

"Go to the Director's office, now!" She backed away from the scene and slowly began he journey to the Director's (Warden's) office. Her face burned with fear at what awaited her. At last, the seemingly gargantuan door indicating the Warden's office. She swallowed hard, and with a shaky arm, opened the door.

The Warden wasn't in her usual position facing outside her window. She was glaring directly at Gilda, eyes drilling into her skull. "Gilda, your actions earlier are unacceptable! Violence is no way to go about your problems, even if you are a grffon!" Gilda's face shifted into anger. "Even if I'm a griffon?! And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?!"

The Warden locked eyes back with her. "Everypony knows that griffons are prone to make rash and unpredictable decisions. Being a griffon, I'm sure you understand that weakness first hand." Gilda pounded her fist on the desk, causing the Warden to jump.

"Being a griffon is not a weakness! That Fang punk pushed me too far, and I snapped! It could've happened to anypony, so don't give me that 'it's 'cause she's a griffon' shit!" She shifted her weight, and stood on her back legs, towering over the Warden. "Now," she began. "I think we're done here." With that she exited the room, and began her march back to her own bedroom.

She got mixed stares on her way back. Some were complete terror, others were... admiration? That can't be right, thought Gilda. Nothing I did was worth admiring. She sighed as she reached her room, and entered, collapsing on her bed. With a deep exhale, she closed her eyes, shutting out the rest of the world, and, once again, letting sleep take her.

Innocence Lost

Golden rays creeped through the window, climbing up Gilda's bedside, and finally reaching up to her face. Her eyes snapped open. "Ugh... Morning... Again..." Mornings had become an even she despised. After the loss of Buck, there was little motivation to get up. Often times she would simply lay there, and stare at nothing.

Gilda groaned as she forced her body out of bed, joints popping in protest. She slowly moped to her door, preparing to repeat a process she knew all too well; wake up, go to school, eat lunch, go to sleep, repeat. Desperation ate away at her conscience.

Gilda found herself once again making the trek to the classroom. Something was different however. She kept receiving the same looks from the evening prior. What is with everypony? All I did was put Fang in his place. Not like it was a big deal or anything.

Before she could mull this over any further, a mare approached her. Gilda cocked her head in apprehension as the pony managed to stumble through a few timid sentences. "Hey, uh, I just wanted to say thanks... you know, for taking care of Fang. I mean... yeah, thanks." The timid mare scurried off, as if afraid of Gilda's reaction.

Okay? thought Gilda. She was unused to being approached, and before she was able to think through what had just occurred, another pony approached her. This time it was a colt, more confident than the previous mare.

"Hey, Gilda right?" he began. "I just wanted to say that it was pretty cool that you finally showed that Fang a thing or two. It was about time someone put him in his place! Anyway, I'll see ya round!" With that, he trotted away, leaving Gilda in even more confusion than before.

A small spark stirred in her chest, and for a fleeting second, the darkness in her cleared. Was it really that big a deal? She pondered this awhile before reaching the classroom door.

Gilda made her way to her seat, and situated herself. A yellow pegasus colt in the seat to the left of her began glancing over, as if testing to see if it was safe to initiate conversation. "Uh, hey," Gilda said to the colt. His expression brightened at the gesture and responded immediately.

"Oh, hi! I'm Swift Breeze. You're Gilda right?" Gilda nodded, a tiny smile ghosting her face. "Well, it was pretty awesome of you to take care of Fang like that. Just thought you should know." The friendly grin on his face seemed genuine. Gilda let a small smile form on her face.

"Yeah," she said, thinking it over. "I guess it was."

"Hey watch it!" Gilda snapped at a mare who happened to be in her way. "Sorry Gilda," replied the mare. "Yeah, next time watch where you're goin," replied the griffon, annoyed by the mare's lack of attention.

Gilda strode down the halls of the East Wing, a sense of self worth nearly palpable around her. With the whole Fang incident came a new confidence for the griffon. Within weeks, Gilda had become one of the most influential residents in the East Wing.

Ponies began holding doors open for her, agreeing with her, and doing what she said. She was in control. It felt good too. After all those years being trampled on, she finally had some recognition.

She spotter a familiar grey pony sitting in one of the living areas, still nursing the wounds under his eye. With a rather twisted smile, she approached him. "Oh hey Fang. How's the eye treatin' ya?" Fang replied with a quit groan. With a small laugh, Gilda walked away, leaving Fang to wallow in embarrassment. The same embarrassment he had left her in when she first arrived.

"You know, I thought you were different." The voice came from behind her, and belonged to a colt. "What?" asked Gilda, slightly irritated at the comment. "I said I thought you were different. When you came here, you weren't like this. You were kind, and gentle. Now look at you. You're exactly like Fang."

Gilda whipped around, and charged at the pony, pinning him to the floor, and drilled her gaze directly into his. She recognized the colt. He had been in her class ever since she was moved into the East Wing. She didn't know anything about him other than the fact that he didn't seem to talk much, and knew an uncanny amount about most ponies in the East Wing. "You listen to me," she said, seething with anger. "I am not like Fang. You got it? I'm not like him, and I never will be." The colt was unfazed by this.

"Say what you want," he said. "But you're just like him. You've changed." She let go of him, and slowly backed away. Was he right? She shook these thoughts out of her head. No. I'll never be like him. I'll show him. I'll show all these ponies!
"I'm going to say this again," she spat. "I am not like him. End of story." The colt let out a sigh. "If you say so... You know the East Wing changes ponies... and griffons. The sooner you accept this, the sooner you can fix it."

Gilda let out an angry growl and punched at the ground. "Shut up! I am not like him!" She bolted into her room, and slammed it shut. The small lamp next to her bed cast a small, dim light across the room. She climbed up into her bed, and once again, let herself be taken away from the world, into her private sanctuary of dreams.

Into the World

Mr. Adams was in the middle of a lecture when the unsteady crackling of the PA system flooded the room. "Gilda to the Director's office please." Gilda let out a groan before making her way out the door. Great, she thought. What'd I do this time?

She made her way through the winding hallways, navigating turn after turn, finally finding the Director's (Warden's) Office. Without knocking, she pushed the door open, and strode inside. "Okay, what'd I do this time?" she asked the Warden sarcastically.

The Warden observed the griffon through the small circular spectacles situated just at the end of her snout. "As you know, Gilda," she began. "This orphanage has a policy, and that is that only children are to be taken care of." Gilda raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, so?"

The Warden sighed. "So, I'm afraid today you're legally an adult. We have no choice but to send you off." Gilda took on a look of complete disbelief. "But, but I'm only sixteen!"

"Exactly. The legal age for a pony to count as an adult in society is sixteen years old. I'm afraid you must pack your things and leave." Gilda raised her arms in a shrug of incredulous disbelief. "So what? You're just going to throw me out on the street? Where am I supposed to go? And why was I the only one picked? I mean what about some of the other ponies? Some of them are at least seventeen!"

"The other ponies? You say that as if you were one of them, griffon. This isn't about the 'other ponies.' This is about you. I'm telling you that you need to leave."

Gilda was shocked at the blatant prejudice. "Well then how am I supposed to make money? How am I supposed to survive?" The Warden raised one eyebrow in complete indifference. "Ponyville might have some job offerings. Check there. Now, if we are done here, I have other business to attend to." The utter lack of empathy was like a punch in the gut. Gilda had lived here her entire life, and now, just like that, they up and dump her out on the street.

"Fine!" she screamed, enraged by the Warden's complete lack of compassion. "See if I care! Who would want to live in this shit hole of a place anyway!? I'm outta here!" With that, Gilda walked through the doorway, and slammed it behind her, the loud thud echoing through empty hallways.

She soon found her way to the front doors. With a heavy sigh, she opened them and stepped outside. It was her first real venture into the world. The sunlight struck her face as she flew out to the street. She touched down, and skulked away towards the nearest town, Ponyville, and a place where they had once taken a field trip. Her anger slowly subsided, and morphed into apprehension. The sneer on her face fell into a defeated frown.

"Well what do I do now?" she asked out loud, still approaching the city limits of the small hamlet. Her thoughts soon drifted to her surroundings. Everything was so different from the orphanage. Each person had their own house! She could hardly believe her eyes. So much space, and yet she had nowhere to go.

She made her way into the center of town, eying a bulletin board covered in posters, advertising different events. Her eyes fixated on one poster in specific.

Junior Speedster Flight School!
Now enrolling!

Features include:
-High Speed Flight Practice!
-A Chance to Meet the Wonderbolts!
-Free Food and Accommodation!

=Free for a limited time!=

*First sessions start in Cloudsdale tomorrow!*

It was the last several bullets that caught her attention. "Huh," she said out loud. "Free accommodation and meals? Well, it's my best shot. Hmm, in Cloudsdale tomorrow, perfect!" Cloudsdale was always visible from her window at the orphanage, and she'd always wanted to go, so an opportunity like this was to good to pass up. She reared up, ready to take off, when a light red earth pony approached her. "Um, excuse me," he said. "Could you help me with something?" Gilda scoffed. "No way, dude, I've got somewhere to be!" And with that, she was off to Cloudsdale.

The journey to Cloudsdale was easy enough, only slight turbulence disturbed her still relatively undeveloped flying skills. On the horizon she was able to make out the cumulous structures that Cloudsdale was composed of. The designated location for the flight camp, a large open clouded area filled with obstacles and flags was easily noticeable. She descended into the small congregation of ponies collected at what appeared to be the gathering place.

She touched just outside the crowd, noticing a definite apprehensive and even fearful reaction from the ponies. Typical, she thought to herself. Scaredy ponies always too terrified to talk to the griffon. Her scornful thoughts were interrupted by the fast approach of a rainbow colored pegasus.

"Hi," she said happily. "What's your name?" Gilda cocked her head, not used to the sudden introduction. "What," she said. "You're not going to call me a freak, or weird, or a mutt?" The brightly colored pegasus turned her head in confusion, and let a small playful laugh out. "Why would I do that? Griffons are pretty awesome!"

Gilda was surprised at the fact that this stranger knew what a griffon was in the first place, not to mention the outgoing introduction she had given. The pegasus broke the silence once again. "Soooooo, like I said, what's your name?" A strange glow seemed to irradiate from the rainbow pegasus.

Gilda let out a small laugh. "I'm Gilda." The pegasus smiled once again at her. "Awesome! I'm Rainbow Dash!" The two laughed softly. "You know what? I think we're gonna be pretty awesome friends," Rainbow Dash said, putting a foreleg around Gilda.

Friends... That word bounced around inside her head again. She let a content smile show. She may have been alone only hours earlier, but she had already made a friend, and she wasn't about to let this one go without a fight.

It's a Girl.

A Griffon Named Gilda
By Hodd

Shouts of pain erupt from room 203, echoing across the whitewashed hospital interiors. A griffon, sprawled in the hospital bed, legs spread wide, is the source of the commotion. "You're doing fine, Liza, just take deep breaths," the doctor told her. The delivery was creeping into it's fourth hour, and was taking its toll on the young griffon. "Push, Liza, push! The baby has to come now." the doctor commanded. Screams of agony followed by defeated sighs met his words. "You have to push, if you want the baby to live, now please, push!" Agony ripped through her body as each convulsion set her nerves ablaze. "Oh, Celestia! It hurts, it hurts! Make it stop!"
"The only way to make it stop is to push!" She complied, and pushed with all her might.

With one final effort, the pain dulled, and all at once, it happened. "It's a girl," the nurse announced. "What do you want to name her?"
The new mother smiled wearily at her newborn. "Gilda," she said. "Her name is Gilda."
"Congratulations," said the Doctor, "A healthy baby girl."
"She's beautiful," replied Liza, still in a dreamy state from the sudden cease in pain. "Welcome to the world, Gilda," she said, tears flowing from her face, emphasizing the wide grin she was wearing. For a moment, the entire world around her melted away, leaving just her and her baby. It was the best feeling she'd known, and put her soul at ease, even if only for a small while.

The child was beautiful. She had strong features, with inset eyes, and a wonderfully even coat. Everything about her had a sort of divine quality about it. Liza let tears flow, as she realized, this was the most proud moment of her life. She had never been so emotionally moved by a single event. Somehow, this small being humbled her to the point of tears, and yet, she'd rather be in no other place in the world.

"Isn't she beautiful?" she asked, looking at the other griffon standing nearby. He found no words, but simply approached the bedside, and cradled the newborn in his arms, marveling at how such a miniscule creature could change their lives so drastically. "Hey there, Gilda," he said in a near childlike tone. "I'm your daddy." A dopey grin formed on his face, as the child looked at him, and giggled. Tears formed in his eyes. "You're going to do great things, Gilda."