A Hawkward Situationby MagnetBoltChaptersOwl By HerselfFowl PlayGo Pluck YourselfDon't FinchOwl By HerselfSpring. One of the busiest times of the year for Ponyville's weather team, and this year was no exception. Rainbow Dash groaned as she fell onto her bed, wings sore and feeling like she hadn't slept right in a week. Which she hadn't, since her definition of sleeping right included quite a few naps, and she'd been too busy to take any. “Ugh. Tomorrow I'm changing the schedule so I don't get stuck with somepony who can't even wrangle a raincloud.” She rubbed her flank where a stray lightning bolt had singed her. “I can't believe Thunderlane and his stupid idea to just smash all the clouds together so he'd only have to make one trip.” Dash closed her eyes. Maybe she'd finally be able to get a few hours of rest now that she was off duty for the rest of the day. Just as she started to drift off, there was a knock at her front door. Dash groaned and threw a pillow towards the noise. “Noooooo!” She rolled over. “If it's Tirek again tell him he can't take over Equestria until I've had a decent nap!” Dash looked at her alarm clock. Usually at this point it would inform her that in the blink of an eye she'd not only slept through the night but also the alarm. For once, the infernal thing hadn't betrayed her, showing that she had indeed only been in bed a few minutes. The knocking came again, louder and more frantic. Dash got out of bed, rolling right off and landing on the cloud floor heavily. Well, as heavily as a pegasus could land on a cloud. Even the somewhat sturdier construction-grade cloud of her home was like landing on foam. She took a deep breath, only to realize she'd also landed on a dirty sock, the smell hitting her like two weeks of unwashed hoof. “Why do I even have these? I barely ever wear them...” She said, for the tenth time. It was precisely because she rarely wore them that they'd been able to go unwashed for so long. It did, however, manage to wake her up very quickly, coughing and kicking the sock to a different corner of the room. The knocks kept coming. Dash stumbled to the door and pulled it open, ready to either go into panic mode or start screaming. It was definitely going to be one of the two. “This had better be-” Dash started, before she was frozen in a combination of two emotions: confusion, surprise, and anger. Three emotions. “Heyyyy....” Gilda said, trying to smile. Dash's eye twitched. Anger and screaming was definitely starting to win. “You've got a lot of nerve coming back after what you said about my friends last time, Gilda!” “Yes, yes I do,” Gilda agreed, slowly lowering herself down until her eye level was below Dash's. “W-what if I told you I was totally ready to do anything to get back on your good side?” “...” Dash raised an eyebrow. “Anything?” “Anything,” Gilda said, looking down and swallowing, her throat dry. “Maybe we should talk inside? Or over drinks? I'll buy!” “You? Buying drinks?” Dash took a step back in surprise. “You never buy drinks. Ever! It's one of your rules!” She looked over the griffon. Her eyes were red and wet. “Okay. I'll hear you out. And if it's a good story, I'll buy the drinks.” *** Gilda looked down at her cider. She'd had three already. Dash was still on her first. She hadn't started talking yet. The griffon finished her fourth and put the mug aside. Dash coughed. “Gonna start telling me or not?” Dash asked, watching her. “I just... I'm trying to work up to it.” Gilda sighed. “Okay. So it's like this. There's bad news, worse news, and more bad news.” “Let me guess,” Dash smirked. “You realized you were a total beakbrain last time you were here, and you came to apologize to me and my friends. I've been waiting for that for a while. Nopony can resist the Dash. It was only a matter of time before you came back. But hey, that's okay. If I'm honest, I missed you too.” “You did?” Gilda looked up, surprised. “That's- that's good!” She seemed happier. “You know, I tried to find you during the Equestrian Games but they kept us away from the competitors. I was going to tell you... that you were really awesome out there.” “Gilda, I'm always awesome.” Dash smirked. “Now come on. Tell me the bad news.” “Promise me you won't freak out,” Gilda said, taking a deep breath. “Hey, I don't 'freak out'. I'm as cool as a cucumber on ice in a snowstorm.” “Well,” Gilda coughed. “It's kind of a long story...” *** One month ago. Gilda was preening her feathers and checking herself in the mirror. She looked great. She felt great. It was the most special day of her life and absolutely nothing was going to go wrong. “Gilda! Are you ready yet?” Her mother yelled. Gilda rolled her eyes. Her family belonged to one of the most affluent clans of the Griffon Kingdoms, and that meant that today, she had to dress up. She adjusted the straps on her dress, which like all griffon formal-ware, was derived from ancient military uniforms and armor. Maybe a hundred years ago it had been comfortable, but now it was a starched collar and a lot of leather straps that could, if you crossed your eyes, almost look like a weapon harness, which were all quite uncomfortable. For one brief moment she wished she still had the dress she'd worn to a formal at Flight School once, but she'd gotten rid of it after she and Dash had parted ways. Too many painful memories. “Yeah! Just one sec!” She took a deep breath and glanced at a picture stuck to the mirror with a Wonderbolts sticker. Her and Dash, hanging out in Cloudsdale. She had a talon around Dash's neck, grabbing her in a tight hug, the young pegasus smirking despite the claw at her throat. “Ugh...” Gilda grabbed the corner of the picture, intending to tear it down. Something stopped her, a pang of regret she hadn't felt in years. “Whatever. I'm so lame.” She laughed a little and left the photo where it was, turning to leave her room. “Finally,” Her mother said. Jeska was a head taller than Gilda, with the same purple tips to her feathers, though her coat of fur over her rear half was so dark it was almost black. She stopped Gilda and adjusted her outfit. “Look at you! All grown up and ready for your Feathermark Day!” “Mooooom, stop!” Gilda groaned, as the elder griffon started tugging at her feathers to straighten them. “I just want you to be perfect,” She said, sighing. Gilda walked past her. “Yeah, yeah. Is Brunhilda ready?” Gilda looked towards the kitchen. She could smell the food being cooked there for after the ceremony. She licked her beak. It smelled like salt-crusted fish being baked, her favorite food since she was just a chick. “Almost!” Yelled a voice from the kitchen, her other mother stepping out and tearing off an apron. “I just had to take something out of the oven so it wouldn't burn. Is the Hierophant here yet?” Brunhilda moved to nuzzle Jeska. The larger griffon returned the gesture. “He's out back getting everything set up. Oh, it's so exciting!” Jeska laughed. “Our little Gilda, finally becoming an adult.” Brunhilda sighed. “Maybe we can start trying to find her a nice drake to settle down with.” “Or a hen,” Jeska said. “She does take after me, you know. At least her back half.” “Mom!” Gilda blushed. Brunhilda ignored her protest. “Well, I have to admit I do like that part of you. I think she could make a hen very happy.” The two nuzzled, while Gilda tried to find a way to just fall over and die from embarrassment. For some reason, despite feeling an intense desire for death, it wasn't enough to make her heart stop. “I think we should get out there before she starts moulting in despair.” Jeska noted, glancing to the back of the home. The two pulled apart, leading Gilda out of the wide back double doors to the yard, where an elderly griffon with gray streaks through his fur and feathers that were ragged around the feathers with age and rough molting. He was wearing his own formal-wear, almost more girly that Gilda's, with a kilt over his flank and thin metal plates down his right forelimb, a wrap around his head that, in a distant age, would have been used to keep sand out of his eyes but today was more about showing the colors and patterns of his tribe. “Gilda,” He said, he voice booming and deep. “Today you are of age and prepared to become a full member of the tribe and the right to become the head of your own household. Are you prepared for this responsibility?” “I am,” Gilda said. The hierophant nodded and turned, claws sparking with magic, and the bonfire behind him sprung into multicolor light, with shades of purple among the dancing flames on the logs. “Excellent,” he said, very serious. “Have you been instructed on what will happen today?” It was a trick question. Or a ritualized one. It was hard to say which description would be more accurate. Everyone knew what was going to happen. She'd know even if her mothers hadn't already explained it to her before. But it was also supposed to be a secret. Rituals had more power when they were secrets, and this was no exception. Gilda stood up and looked him in the eye. “No.” An obvious lie, but one that needed to be said. The hierophant nodded in approval. “First, you will put this on.” He gave Gilda a cotton robe. It was just a bit off-white, made so it would stain easily, unlike her clothing. “It too will bear the marks from today, and will serve as a reminder of the bonds you have to your family and tribe.” Gilda pulled it on over her formal-wear like the dust cloak it was meant to resemble. The hierophant picked up a wide, shallow bowl, full of sacred oils and herbs. Dragging a claw through it, spirals of color spilling out as the oil was transformed. “Prepare yourself,” he said. Gilda spread her wings and closed her eyes. She'd been warned that getting rosemary and mistletoe in her eyes was a very bad way to start a day. Not as bad as when Brunhilda had found out that she was allergic to mistletoe oil and ended up turning puffy and pink all day. Thankfully it wasn't a trait that Gilda shared, as far as she knew. The oil and paint splashed on Gildas as the hierophant emptied the bowl with a skillful throw. Gilda waited for it to start dripping away, the pigments drying in the heat of the bonfire. It would paint her dust cloak in a kaleidoscope of color that would be used later to try and divine her future. Not that she believed in that. The most important thing it would do, though, would be to show her family markings on the underside of her wings. They were a lot like a cutie mark on a pony, but showed relationships and bonds instead of special talents. When griffons mated, one of the two would find their feathermarks changed to match the others, or occasionally both would change to something new. There was silence as the oil dripped away from her feathers. That was strange. Usually they'd start cheering now. Gilda opened her eyes and looked at her wings. “Oh buck me,” she said under her breath. Her family feathermark was something like a tangle of rose stems around a gripping talon. That was not what was on Gilda's wings. There, displayed for her mothers to see, was a cloud with a multicolored lightning bolt shooting out of it. Fowl PlayIt all started the first day Gilda went to Flight School in Cloudsdale. Everyone knew that the ponies had the best schools in the world, or at least that having a degree from one of their schools opened a lot of doors later in life. That wasn't something Gilda cared about. What she cared about was that she was stuck somewhere lame, with a bunch of lame ponies, eating lame food, and she couldn't go home until winter break! “This is the worst,” She groaned, looking around. She was standing in the large rotunda that was the main hall of the Flight School. Everything was bright and pastel, the roof an open framework letting the sunlight and wind inside, along with a few ponies who were brave enough to come in from above. Even if it wasn't full of pegasai keeping the weather away, very few clouds managed to get high enough to attempt to rain down on the school. “Make a hole!” Somepony screamed. Ponies started diving for cover. Gilda turned around, confused, just in time for a cyan and rainbow blur to slam into her at high speed. She went tumbling to the ground, sliding a dozen paces into a wall and cracking her skull on something firmer than clouds. Her vision filled with stars as she tried to stand and failed, having momentarily forgotten which direction was down. “What in Tartarus hit me?” She groaned. “I said to make a hole!” Gilda's chest said. It felt heavy for some reason. She looked at it. A pony was hanging from it. No, wait. Standing on it. She was just upside-down. It explained why she couldn't stand up. “You ran into me,” Gilda said, shaking her head to clear it. “Why the buck didn't you watch where you were going?!” “I did! And I yelled for you to get out of the way! It's not my fault you're too slow!” The pony jumped up and down on Gilda's chest, driving the air from her lungs. Gilda grunted and grabbed her front hoof, throwing her across the room. “Get off me!” Gilda roared, finally getting her paws under her. She still felt like someone was trying to mine for gold in her skull. “Idiot, crashing into things without even looking...” “Hey! I don't crash!” The pony got up, frowning and walking back up to Gilda, getting up in her face fearlessly. “I'm the best flier here and everypony knows it!” Gilda felt her feathers ruffle. The pony was half her size and refused to back down. It was the first day of school, and she had to make sure she started out on top. In a griffon school that meant fighting the toughest hen in the bunch. Which, Gilda realized, was probably exactly what this pony was trying to do. She smirked. “More like the worst,” Gilda said. “I don't see any other ponies who forgot how to land. Maybe we should get you a helmet so you won't hurt yourself!” The pony growled, her rainbow mane standing on end. “Oh that's it. You're going down!” She jumped at Gilda, punching her in the beak. Gilda reared up, grabbing her and pulling her into a ground match, raking her with her back claws, just hard enough to hurt. Her claws were mostly blunt from disuse anyway, but she didn't want to kill her. “Ah!” the pony yelled, bucking with both of her back legs, getting Gilda in the gut and knocking her away. The griffon rolled and stood up, facing the pony before pouncing on her, taking a hoof to the eye and slamming the pony into the floor. There was a blinding light and crash of thunder. “What is going on here?!” A pony screamed, the light suddenly dark as storm clouds loomed over the rotunda. Gilda looked up to see a teacher glaring down at them. “Aw buck,” Gilda groaned. *** Half an hour later, Gilda could barely see out of her right eye because of the swelling, and her ribs were so tender she had to hold her wing away from her side. The pegasus she'd been fighting with was in almost as bad shape, with bandages around her stomach where Gilda had given her shallow cuts and her forehoof splinted from where it had sprained. The principal paced in front of them, giving them glares as she turned to face them. “In all my years as principal, I have never had two students start a fight like that, and on the very first day of school!” Miss Direction huffed. “I should have both of you expelled. It would be well within my rights.” “No! You can't!” The cyan pegasus said, suddenly panicked. “If I get kicked out of flight school I'll never join the Wonderbolts!” “Rainbow Dash, with your record of trouble-making you'll be lucky if they don't have one look at your permanent record and throw your application out the window and into the sun!” Miss Direction snapped. “And as for you, Gilda, an exchange student should be more polite and respectful! You're representing the other griffons and need to be on your best behavior!” “She started it!” Gilda protested, pointing at Rainbow Dash. “No, she started it! I was just flying and she wouldn't get out of the way!” Dash yelled, glaring at Gilda. “Yelling 'make a hole' isn't just flying! You were asking to hurt someone!” “Ponies know to get out of the way when I'm in a hurry!” “Well I'm not a-” “That's it!” Miss Direction snapped. “One more word out of either of you and I will have you expelled after all! Is that understood?!” Gilda and Dash nodded quickly. “Good.” She sighed and went back to her desk. “It's clear what the real issue is here. Both of you learn to get along with others. Since both of you are boarding here, I'm changing your room assignments. You will get to know each other very well by the end of the year, if you don't kill each other.” She started filling out some paperwork. “At least if you're roommates I can keep you from getting others involved.” *** “This is stupid!” Dash yelled, throwing her bag onto the bed. “Because of you I don't get to room with Flutters anymore!” “Please,” Gilda rolled her eyes, setting her own bag on the ground. “You're the one who decided to turn it into a fight.” “What?!” Dash turned on her. “You say that again when I don't have a sprained hoof, and I'll make sure that black eye of yours is part of a matched set!” “Look, kid, you've got guts starting a fight on the first day of school, but you're lucky I was holding back.” Gilda turned to Rainbow Dash, glaring at her. “If I wanted I could have torn you into giblets.” “You started the fight. And you should have known to get out of the way!” Dash started unpacking, starting by putting up wall hangings of the Wonderbolts. Gilda rolled her eyes and took a sandwich out of her lunch box, watching the pony. “Guess you're a big fan, huh?” She asked, looking at the wall hangings. “Aren't some of those show exclusives?” “You recognize them?” Dash asked, surprised. “Well duh. Even I know who the Wolderbolts are. They're pretty cool. For ponies, anyway.” Gilda unwrapped her sandwich and took a bite. “I saw a show once when they were in the Kingdom doing an exhibition with the Royal Fliers.” “Oh man I heard about that one! It was the show where they did the double inverted helix for the first time!” Dash started hopping on her bed. “What you didn't hear is that they didn't plan on it. You should have seen the looks on their faces after they did it. They were supposed to do a normal helix, but it got messed up and they starting going the wrong way and just went with it!” “How do you know that?” Dash asked, stopping and frowning suspiciously. “I could hear them arguing about it. I had a seat right over their bench. I hear they got a new captain this year though.” “Right over their bench?! But those are always VIP seats!” “Yeah, Momma Brun paid a bundle for them. Totally worth it though.” Gilda took another bite. Dash sniffed the air. “What is that? Potato salad?” She hopped off the bed and walked over to look. Gilda snorted and offered the pegasus the other half of the sandwich. “Chicken,” she said, watching the pony's expression with glee. Most ponies started to freak out around a carnivore. The question would be if Dash ran away in fear or vomited. She'd seen ponies do both at once, and that was the best result of all. “Huh,” Dash said, taking the sandwich and looking at it. “Isn't meat red?” “No, birds are usually white and fish are a couple of different colors- what are you doing?!” Gilda watched in horror as Dash took a bite of the sandwich, chewing and thinking. “That's not bad,” Dash said. She swallowed and took another bite. “I thought it would taste like eggs, but it's just kinda...” She thinks. “Kinda stringy and savory. Is this what griffons eat all the time?” “It's one of the things we eat, but ponies aren't supposed to have meat!” Gilda tried to take the sandwich away from Dash. The pegasus laughed and hopped away, flapping her wings. “Why not? This is great!” Dash stuffed her face with the rest of the sandwich so Gilda couldn't get it back, chewing loudly with her mouth open. Gilda groaned. “I'm gonna get in so much trouble.” Author's Note The beginning of a beautiful friendship. This takes place a few years before season 1. Don't worry, clop starts next chapter. I'd like to take a moment to thank my dignity and morals. They managed to keep me from writing this story until the bitter end. Their sacrifice has not been in vain. Go Pluck Yourself“You know what I hate?” Dash groaned, rolling around on her bed. “Moulting season,” Gilda said, plucking a stray feather off of her bed and tossing it back on Dash's side of the room. “You've been saying that for two days now.” “I can't help it! It itches!” Dash stopped and bit her lip. “Look, um. C-could you maybe... preen me?” Gilda snorted and looked over at her. “What? You can't preen yourself?” “I'm not good at it, okay?” Dash blushed. “Dad used to help until it got weird, but mom was never really around to teach me.” She flapped her wings, and a few new feathers were added to the growing pile of fluff. “She left when I was just a baby.” “Ugh, enough with the pony sob story,” Gilda rolled her eyes. “I've got two moms. If you want one, you can borrow one of mine for a while.” “Two moms?” Dash frowned. “So you were adopted? Or... magic or something?” “Nah. Just one of my moms is, um... there's not a word for in in Equestrian. She's got both sets of parts.” “...Both sets of parts?” Dash stood up, tilting her head. “It's not that strange for griffons,” Gilda said, shrugging. “It has to do with being part bird and part mammal. Something about being a chimaera.” “Oh. That's kinda cool,” Dash said. She sat back down, momentarily distracted from her itching. “So one of your moms is also your dad... but she could be a mom, too? Like she gets to have it both ways! I bet she was real popular when she was dating!” Dash winked. Gilda rolled her eyes. “That's not how it works, Dash. Griffons mate for life. We don't sleep around with other griffons.” “Pfft,” Dash snorted. “Sure you don't. That's why you were totally not hitting on Jetstream at the fall formal.” “Hey, it doesn't count when it's ponies!” Gilda said defensively. “It's one of the rules. Mating is for life, but only between griffons. If you mess around with a pony or a diamond dog or whatever that's just for fun.” “So you can help me preen and it won't mess with that, right?” Dash asked, spreading her wings and looking at Gilda expectantly. The griffon sighed and stood up. “Anything for you, Dash.” She walked over to Dash's bed. “I still think it wouldn't be as bad if you didn't steal my lunch half the time. I keep telling you that meat isn't good for ponies.” “It's part of my secret training regimen,” Dash said. Gilda got up on the bed behind Dash, looking at her wings. Even for the middle of a moult, her feathers were in rough shape. Dash clearly wasn't taking care of them correctly, and her repeated crashes weren't helping much either. “Run that one by me again,” Gilda said, as she lowered her beak to Dash's wing, starting on the right one and gently teasing the feathers, trying to find the loose and broken ones. “Well, see, meat is basically like eating muscles, right?” Dash said, Gilda agreed and tugged on one of her primaries, making the pegasus squirm and groan. “Keep doing that. It feels amazing.” “Keep talkin' Dash,” Gilda said, holding her down as the pegasus kept trying to shift and squirm. Gilda grabbed a secondary and tugged it with her beak before letting go and moving onto the next, every little pull making the pegasus under her kick just a little, her wing twitching. “I- I figured since you are what you eat...” Dash gasped as Gilda found a broken feather and pulled it free. “If I eat a lot of muscles, I'll get a lot of muscles!” She was going to continue, but Gilda moved to the base of her wing and Dash collapsed, almost melting into a puddle from the attention. “You're really sensitive for somepony who keeps saying how tough they are,” Gilda smirked, moving to the other wing. Dash arched her back as Gilda found one of the really itchy spots and removed a badly broken feather, the pegasus finding instant relief from that small pain as it popped free from her wing. “That just felt so bucking good,” Dash moaned. “I really, really need to learn how to do that.” “I'm only half done,” Gilda said. “And trust me, it's not as good if you do it yourself.” Dash managed to mostly lay still as the griffon worked on her other wing, pulling feathers free and tugging others into place. Dash had to bite her pillow to keep from screaming, her back legs kicking feebly as a new scent filled the air, Dash shivering as she came. “Oh no. Y-you can't tell anyone-” Dash paled, panting, as Gilda pulled away. “I won't,” Gilda said. “Here. It's my turn.” She laid down on her bed. “If you think you can still walk far enough to get over here, you can learn how to do it.” “But it's so far away!” Dash complained. “I don't want to lie down in your mess, Dash.” Gilda looked at her dirtied bed, wetness spreading from between Dash's legs. “Give me a minute,” Dash said, rolling onto her side. “I never felt anything like that before. That was so awesome!” “Yeah well, that's why I want some preening too!” Gilda rolled her eyes. Every day she had to explain something simple to the energetic little pony. It was like her father had never bothered explaining anything about life to her. “Alright, alright.” Dash managed to stand and worked her way over to Gilda's bed. “I've never really done this to somepony else before. So just tell me when I'm doing it right.” “You'll know,” Gilda said. Dash started in on her wings, pulling on her feathers gently. Too gently. “Harder, Dash! You gotta tug them into place and look for the broken ones.” Dash got a little better with practice, and a few minutes later Gilda was humming peacefully, starting to relax. Dash managed to pull out a broken covert that had been bothering her for a while, and Gilda arched her back, moaning. Between being preened and the smell of Dash's arousal, she was starting to feel very comfortable herself, at least until Dash saw the effect it was having on her. “Woah!” Dash said, backing away and blushing. “Gilda, you've- you've got-” She was more bright red than blue at this point. Gilda glanced back at her hindquarters, where a familiar presence was making itself known and rubbing on the bed. “It's a penis,” Gilda said, sighing. “I, um. I take after both of my mothers. I guess I should have warned you.” She groaned. “Guess that's the end of preening today.” “Is that why you were hitting on Jetstream and not Thunderlane?” Dash asked, lifting Gilda's tail for a better look. “Well... yeah,” Gilda admitted. “I mean if you've got extra parts, you might as well use them, right? I mean, she was kinda cute I guess. But I should have known she'd get scared off since I'm a griffon.” “Not everypony can be as awesome as me,” Dash smirked. “I set the bar, like, super-high.” “You're somethin' all right,” Gilda laughed. “Look, just give me a few minutes and I'll try to calm this thing down.” She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. She just had to think of hoofball and snowstorms and lame ponies that couldn't even fly. “No way. I wanna see it,” Dash said. She tried to move Gilda's leg so she could see. “I bet it's all strange and stuff!” “Dash! Stop it!” Gilda shifted on the bed, trying to get away from the curious pegasus. “Come on! If you don't let me see it I'm gonna keep bothering you until you do!” Dash gave Gilda a determined look, the griffon meeting her gaze over her shoulder and sighing, rolling over and almost throwing Dash from the bed with the sudden motion. “Fine! Just get it over with.” Gilda sighed. Dash grinned as she got her first good look at the forbidden fruit. Gilda's penis was long and tapered, coming to a point with only a suggestion of a head, unlike the blunt instruments Dash had seen on ponies. It was almost graceful, fading from red to a pastel pink and slick with Gilda's fluids, more dripping from the tip in a steady stream. “It almost makes me jealous,” Dash said, under her breath. She touched it with her hoof gently, afraid she'd hurt the raw-looking flesh. Under the slick wetness there was something rough, tiny barbs in a ring around the head. “Woah! I didn't say you could touch it!” Gilda yelled, as her penis twitched from the contact. A drop of her precum splashed onto the tip of Dash's nose, making the pegasus's snout scrunch from the unexpected wetness. “You're the one who said you wanted me to return the favor, right?” Dash asked, rubbing her nose with her hoof and getting the smell of griffon all over her. Dash had never done more than mess around with other ponies. Not that she wasn't curious, just that none of them could really keep up with her. Part of her wanted to save herself for one of the Wonderbolts, but the rest of her was Rainbow Dash, and that part of her said that waiting that long meant years of not being satisfied. “I didn't mean like that!” Gilda said, trying to sit up. She had just gotten her back off of the bed before Dash landed on her chest with a thud and drove her back down onto it, the pegasus facing her for a moment with a smirk of triumph before turning around to look at the griffon's cock from a different angle, rubbing her wet nethers against Gilda's chest. “Come on, don't be a pussy, cat.” Dash laughed at her little joke. “Now come on. I've never done this kinda thing before. What do I do?” “I just told you, I don't mess around. Mate for life, remember?” Gilda made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a purr as Dash licked the tip of her member. “You also said ponies don't count.” Dash smirked and looked back at her. “Come on. You're like the coolest flier in school, I'm still worked up like crazy from when you were preening me, and this is probably like the only chance I'll ever have to get with a griffon.” “What, is it moulting season and your heat at the same time?” Gilda asked, snorting. “You never act like this.” “And I don't remember you not wanting to have fun,” Dash countered. “I mean we live together already, right? So if we mess around with each other it means we get to have fun and nopony gets left out or stuck finding somewhere else to spend the night!” Gilda hesitated. “...Alright, but it's not, like, serious, okay? I don't want you getting lame and sappy.” “Yeah. Just the magic of friends with benefits!” Dash smirked, turning back to Gilda's cock. “Now from what I saw in those mags Thunderlane was trying to hide..” She leaned down, spreading her legs and rubbing herself against Gilda's chest as she licked the griffon, tasting the salty fluid dribbling from her. Gilda started purring, lying back and raising her hips up just off of the bed as Dash's tongue found its way along the shaft. “You're just teasing me,” Gilda said, quietly. “It feels weird on my tongue,” Dash said, sitting up. “Like it doesn't taste bad, but it tingles.” “My mom said it's supposed to make it so the barbs don't hurt.” Gilda shifted as Dash gave the tip another lick. “Look, griffons really aren't good at the whole birds and bees thing. My mom just said never mate with anyone you can't deal with for the rest of your life and that I'd have to figure the rest out myself.” “Hm.” Dash considered. “And I bet you'd just love to have a hen under you.” She smirked and got up, leaving Gilda's chest sticky with her fluids, trotting over to her own bed with her tail held high. “How about it? That'd be fun for both of us!” Dash bent over, resting her front and forelegs on the mattress and leaving her lower half exposed and on clear display, lips pink and inviting, traces of Dash's excitement running down her inner thighs. “This is such a bucking terrible idea,” Gilda whispered, getting up in a rush, like her throbbing member was drawn by a spell towards the waiting pegasus. She pressed her down into the bed, her talons gripping the mattress ahead of Dash's hooves thanks to her larger frame. Gilda breathed into her mane as she got lined up, hunching her hips as her tip poked Dash's thighs, seeking her wet hole and leaving a trail as she missed. “Come on, now you're the one who's teasing!” Dash whined, squirming her hips to try and help and accomplishing exactly the opposite. Gilda growled and bit her shoulder just above the wing joint. Dash gasped and went still from the nip, letting the griffon finally find her mark. The tip slid in easily, penetrating her to the core. Dash's mouth hung open as her mind went blank. “Oh, fire and feathers, that's good,” Gilda groaned. She held herself in, hip deep in Dash. The pegasus fit her perfectly, just barely enough room for her to even rock her hips in the pegasus' depths. “Did you have to go in so fast?” Dash whispered, groaning as one of her legs started twitching. “You're the one who was complaining I was just teasing you. This is exactly what you get.” Gilda pushed Dash harder into the bed, using her chest to put weight on her. “Now be a good hen.” Gilda pulled back, the barbs on her member catching Dash's sensitive folds just a bit, scratching gently. Dash made a long, high pitched noise as it scraped inside her, Gilda purring at the sensation of Dash's marehood gripping her like a velvet glove. Her beak went to Dash's ear, nipping it lightly and making the mare jump, her inner walls contracting sharply for a moment. Gilda let go of her ear and thrust back in sharply, their mingled fluids dripping free of their joining and down Dash's body to soil the bed further. She let her instincts take control, her stance widening as she bore down harder on Dash, her pace increasing as she thrust into the pony under her, wet noises joining the gasps and purrs filling the room. “Dash, I'm gonna-” Gilda grabbed Dash's sides, the pegasus pushing back eagerly. “Inside,” Dash said breathlessly. “W-we already have a lot to clean up.” Gilda growled at that, nipping Dash again, pulling her mane with her beak as she thrust in so hard it knocked the pegasus off her hooves, only being held up by Gilda's talons as she buried herself in Dash, jets of hot seed making her taut belly swell out. Gilda purred and nuzzled Dash, her hips wriggling and trying to find another inch of cock to squeeze into the pegasus' wonderful tightness. As the last of her seed was squeezed out, Gilda pulled back, and Dash made a tiny breathless scream as she came again from the feeling as the griffon popped out. The barbs around Gilda's member had flared out when she came, Dash reaching another orgasm as they scraped her even through the torrent of thick lubrication coating her insides. Gilda collapsed next to the pegasus, Dash's legs collapsing. She started to slide off the bed until Gilda pulled her up to hold her. “I thought you didn't want to sit in my mess,” Dash said, panting and out of breath. She nuzzled the griffon, their bodies both drenched with sweat. “I guess it's my mess now too,” Gilda admitted. She smirked at Dash and hugged her tight, wrapping her back legs around her. “That was really awesome,” Dash said, her voice muffled as she buried her face in Gilda's feathers. “I can't even feel anything down there. It's just tingly and warm and good.” “You're gonna be bucking sore in the morning,” Gilda said. “You're probably all scraped up inside.” “That's future Dash's problem. Right now I'm busy enjoying it.” Author's Note Next Chapter: She was right. It's Future Dash's problem. Damn you, Past Dash! They're in their late teens at this point. Just imagine whatever the age of consent is in your local area and we'll run with that. Don't FinchDash groaned and slammed her face into the wood of the table with enough force to leave a decent bruise. As she had predicted so long ago, it was now Future Dash's problem, and Future Dash really wanted to strangle Past Dash now. Berry Punch looked over at them with a raised eyebrow, but didn't say anything, the only pony aside from Dash in the bar. Of course there was someone who wasn't a pony sitting across from her, a person who was the source of all of her problems at this exact moment. “This is such a mess...” Dash groaned. “You have no idea,” Gilda said. “I got kicked out of my house. My moms said that since I was old enough to make bad decisions on my own, I was old enough to face the consequences.” “There's gotta be a way to fix this...” Dash considered. She sat up, wings extended with excitement, her ears perked up again. “Wait, I got it!” “What's the plan?” Gilda asked, sounding hopeful. “There's no time to explain! Hey, put this on my tab!” Dash yelled, flying out the door, Gilda running after. “We don't-” the bartender sighed, as they shot out of hearing distance. “We don't run tabs here.” “You do now!” Berry grinned. “Make my next one a double!” *** “Dash, when did this place get a castle?” Gilda asked, looking up at the huge crystalline tree, the spires of a castle nestled amidst the branches. “You know. Magic stuff.” Dash shrugged. “It kinda grew from this box thing... look, I can't explain it, and every time Twilight tried, my eyes kinda glazed over and I totally stopped paying attention. Once, she started explaining it, I flew off to get lunch, and when I came back she was still going!” “Is she even going to want to help?” Gilda swallowed, nervous. She knew she wasn't on the best terms with any of Dash's friends, especially since she hadn't actually apologized to them yet. “Sure. She's like a super-genius and stuff. I mean if she can turn Fluttershy into a monster, she can totally help with weird griffon magic.” Dash smirked. “Besides, she's always happy to help a friend in need.” Dash paused, thinking. “The friend in this case is me. You were kind of a jerk to everypony.” “Thanks for reminding me,” Gilda grumbled. “No problem. It'll be like ten minutes tops, then you go and apologize to everypony in town, then we'll be cool again.” Dash opened the door. “Trust me. We got this in the bag.” *** “Dash, I can't help with this,” Twilight said, raising her eyebrow. “This is the first time I ever even heard about griffon mating rituals!” She tapped the book she was holding with her hoof. It was one of the many that had been donated from libraries and ponies all around Equestria and beyond. This one had come from the griffon ambassador, Siegfried the Fourth, and detailed the griffon royal line and, thankfully, mentioned aspects of their mating rituals in the course of describing the family tree. It also mentioned death rituals, but Twilight held out hope it wouldn't come to that. “We just need you to fix her wings so they don't have my cutie mark all over them,” Dash sighed. “We don't need to know about rituals and stuff. I'm not asking you to play wingmare and help me pick up chicks or anything.” The pegasus rolled her eyes and sat back, leaning against Gilda. The griffon had clearly been uncomfortable the whole time she'd been in the castle, though given how her feathers unruffled whenever Dash settled next to her, it was obvious the pegasus was helping to keep her calm. She'd barely spoken at all, and seemed content to just stare at her talons or the floor. She hadn't met Twilight's gaze even once so far. “Clearly you're good enough at doing that yourself,” Twilight muttered. “Dash, it's like asking me to give Scootaloo a cutie mark. There's some magic I just can't do anything about.” “But you totally changed everypony's cutie mark for a while with Starswirl's spell,” Dash countered. “Remember? Fluttershy's animals almost turned me into soup!” “That was a unique situation. The unfinished spell interacted with the Elements of Harmony. I couldn't just do it to any two ponies I wanted! Even if I recreated the situation exactly, it might not have fixed anything. Believe me, I know.” “Huh?” Dash tilted her head. “When I realized I messed everything up, one of the first things I did was try Starswirl's spell a few more times. It didn't do anything at all. I was hoping that it would at least shuffle your cutie marks around again and I could just keep trying until I got it right.” “Yeah, but you did fix it in the end.” Dash pointed at Twilight. “So you can just fix this too. Just do the thing you did to us, but with Gilda. Problem solved.” “With a memory spell, Dash. Let's assume it would even work on Gilda at all for a moment. If I wanted to try and... and remove you from her, I'd have to remove her memories of you. She'd be like a total stranger. Is that what you really want?” Twilight's voice lowered towards the end as she tried to put the right amount of gravity into it. Dash paled, looking at Gilda. The griffon shared her appalled look, feathers starting to ruffle again. “No way. I didn't like this idea to begin with, and that's just crazy. I can't just let you root around in my head!” Gilda sounded almost panicked. It was the first time she'd said more than two words in a row since she'd apologized to Twilight profusely at Dash's prompting. “Good,” Twilight sighed. “I feel the same way. There are too many risks with mind magic. Even the memory spell I used to fix the Magical Mark Mix-Up Mayhem was too dangerous.” “Magical Mark Mix-up Mayhem? Is that what we're calling it now?” Dash couldn't keep a smile from creeping onto her face. “That sounds like the kind of name Pinkie would come up with.” “It's better than 'Twilight messes up everypony's life, again.'” Twilight blushed. “And I like alliteration. It's good for titles. Better than puns, anyway.” “What about an illusion spell?” Spike put in, as he hefted a new stack of books and put them down near Twilight. “Sorry that took so long. I never thought I'd say this, but we need to reorganize the library.” Twilight smiled warmly and patted him on the head. “See, Spike? Now you know why I had you do it whenever we got new books in.” “Illusions don't work,” Gilda muttered. Twilight and Dash looked at her, both surprised she was actually offering input. “It... Twilight, that's the Fall and Rise of the Schwartzveld Family, right?” “Yeah,” Twilight nodded. “A first edition, too! It's probably two hundred years old and-” “Check out what happened with Einhawken the Second,” Gilda sighed. Twilight flipped to the front of the book, finding him in the table of contents, and paged through to his entry. “Let's see... 'After the death of Einhawken the First, his successor, Einhawken the Second, was challenged by another griffon who claimed to be Einhawken's illegitimate firstborn. The challenge nearly made it to the dueling stage before the treachery was uncovered, and the challenger, may his name be forever forgotten, was revealed as a fake, his feathermarks disguised with spellwork and sorcery by a rival noble house seeking to usurp the Winged Throne.'” “Feathermarks aren't just decoration, they're like... you have identification papers, right? I had to get them to cross the border. In the Kingdom, it's different. They just check your feathers and take your name and you're good to go.” “So?” Dash asked. Twilight groaned, the implications hitting her. “So if they're used for identification purposes, it means they have some way of validating them,” Twilight sighed. “The same way all our papers use an Arcane Mark spell to prove they're legitimate.” “Yeah. They've got all kinds of detection spells. And if you're trying to hide your marks? You get to go right to prison, no questions asked, until they can sort the mess out. Even if there was an illusion that lasts long enough and can fool the spells they're using right now, eventually they'll change the spells and I'll get caught and I'll end up going to jail for it.” “Sorry, Gilda,” Dash groaned. “This is all my fault.” “Yes, it is,” Twilight agreed. “Definitely,” Gilda mumbled. “And that doesn't even touch on the idea that griffons are supposed to mate for life!” Twilight stood up, pacing in a tight circle. “If she goes out and tries to find somepony to be with, it'd be like she's cheating on her husband!” Twilight stopped. “Or wife? I don't know how it works between you two- and don't try to explain!” She yelled the last part as she saw Dash open her mouth with an expression on her face that clearly said she was going to reveal information better left unsaid. “Aw, come on, Twilight. You know you're curious.” Dash smirked. “I am not curious about your... sexual escapades, Dash!” Twilight's face slowly turned red. “And from what you told me, you were barely more than a foal when this started! How would you feel if Scootaloo started telling you about what she did with... with...” Twilight was grasping for straws here. “Soarin! Or Thunderlane!” “If it was Thunderlane I'd kick his butt off the weather team for dating a pony that's like a sister to me without my permission,” Dash said. “But if it was Soarin... I'd probably be mad jealous and ask for details.” “Dash!” Twilight gasped. “That's awful!” “Yeah, I know. I shouldn't be jealous,” Dash sighed. “I should just be happy for her.” “I meant the double standard!” Twilight felt like she needed a long shower. Maybe a cold one. Ice cold. She let her mind wander for a moment, wondering if the castle was connected to Ponyville's municipal water supply. She wasn't even sure if she was supposed to pay property taxes on it or not. Technically it was probably a government-owned building, and she could blow up anypony who came asking for back taxes... “Yo, Equestria to Twilight?” Dash was waving a hoof in her face. “I know you don't handle relationship stuff well, but we kinda need you here.” “I was thinking of... alternate solutions,” Twilight said, lamely. “Like what?” Dash raised her eyebrow, challenging her. She leaned in to whisper. “Or were you just fantasizing about things you shouldn't be?” “I wasn't! The- we could just- they only last for life!” Twilight sputtered. “Yes! That's it! We'll just... kill one of you? Temporarily?” She winced at how awful the suggestion was. “Twilight, this is why you make checklists,” Spike sighed. “Whenever you try and do something on the fly, you manage to come up with the worst ideas.” “No, it's a great idea!” Twilight said. “We just need to stop Dash's heart for a few minutes. Probably.” She smiled, trying to look confident. It was not working. “Yeah... let's come up with a different plan.” Dash flew up and away from Twilight before she could do anything crazy, like stopping her heart. “Like asking Discord for help. That seems less dangerous, and I never thought I'd say that.” “Fine,” Twilight sighed. “I'll do some research to try and find something that can explain it. Maybe since you're a pony there's some other option we can take.” “That's the spirit. Just... find something a little less fatal. I'd rather be married than dead.” Gilda snorted. “That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me.” She rolled her eyes. Her stomach grumbled. “Sorry. I haven't eaten anything since I got kicked out of my own home because of this mess.” “Let's go get lunch,” Dash said. She flew over, glancing back at Twilight. “It'll give her some space to do her crazy Twilight stuff while we're not in the blast radius.” “Ugh. Pony cooking.” Gilda blanched. “I can't wait. Flowers and leaves. Bleh.” “Fine, we'll get griffon food.” Dash shrugged. “It's not like it bothers me. Come on. I know the pony Fluttershy gets her meat from when she needs to feed her carnivores.” She grabbed Gilda's talon and led her out the window, the two taking wing and flying away from the castle. Twilight flipped pages in her book, lost in thought for a moment before she realized something. “Wait, meat? Ponies can't eat meat!” She turned to look, but Dash was already gone. “Hmmm...” Twilight looked out the open window and thought for a few moments before turning to Spike. “Spike, take a letter.” *** Gilda tore into the meat, the juices dripping down her beak as she tore a chunk free from the chicken. Dash sat next to her in front of the small campfire they'd built, gnawing on a drumstick. They'd gone out into the Whitetail Woods to cook, after Dash got the idea in her head that a cookout over a real campfire would be fun. Since she had paid for two chickens, one for each of them, Gilda wasn't going to complain. She'd even helped get the fire going while Dash got the birds ready. “Okay, I admit,” Gilda said, as she licked her beak. “You're not a bad cook. Where did you even learn to cook like this? You used to burn soup when you tried to heat it up!” “It was after I came here,” Dash said. She took the drumstick out of her mouth, the bone almost picked clean. Dash ate almost like a vulture, picking bones nearly completely clean of meat and gristle. Gilda was messier about it, leaving bits near the joints and eating the small bones. “The closest place I can get griffon take-out is hours away, and I was eating meat a lot.” “What, still?” Gilda was surprised. She almost dropped what she was eating in shock. “I thought you'd stop after you didn't have me to mooch from.” “Hey, I meant it when I said it was good for building muscle. I made it part of my training routine. A lot of pegasai bulk up with protein while they're training. Usually eggs, but meat is way better.” Dash flexed her wings, showing off the toned muscles. “So I had to learn to cook it myself.” “You're one of a kind, Dash,” Gilda said, shaking her head. She blushed and looked away from the wings, getting butterflies in her stomach. She'd be the first to admit that Dash was attractive, but given they were trying to break up, making a move on her was probably a bad idea. “Dash! Dash!” There was the sound of crashing movement through the underbrush. “There you are! I've been looking for you all day!” Scootaloo broke through into the clearing, leaves and tree sap in her mane. Dash was never sure how she found so much tree sap. Maybe it was her real special talent, and she'd end up with a maple leaf as a cutie mark someday. “Oh yeah, it was our training day.” Dash groaned, talking around her food. “I'm sorry, Scoots. It's been a really strange day. We'll go flying after we finish lunch, okay?” Dash gestured to Gilda. Scootaloo blinked, noticing her for the first time. Usually she just ignored everything around her that wasn't Rainbow Dash. “Wait a minute, isn't this the griffon that was a jerk to everypony?” Scootaloo narrowed her eyes, approaching Gilda and looking her over with a critical eye. “She's not so tough looking.” “That's me,” Gilda snorted. “Just a giant jerk to everypony. So Dash is giving you flying lessons? You might wanna get somepony else to show you how to land. I don't think Dash ever learned how to do that.” She mimed crashing into the ground at high speed, even making wooshing and crashing sounds. “Hey! I'm great at landing! Usually.” She blushed. “Besides, I have to teach her how to get up in the air before I teach her how to get down.” “What are you girls eating?” Scootaloo asked, sniffing. “Is it potatoes or- those are bones! You're eating an animal!” She backed away, suddenly afraid. “Are you eating a pony?! Is it Diamond Tiara? If it is, I promise I won't tell anypony!” “A pony?” Gilda laughed. “No way. That's like, horror stories. Griffons don't eat ponies. It's just a couple of chickens.” “Chickens? Like the ones that lay eggs?” Scootaloo frowned. “But- killing animals is wrong!” “Don't worry about it, Scoots. I got this from T-Bone. The same guy Fluttershy gets fish and stuff from for the pets that need meat. I figure if it's humane enough for Flutters, it's good enough for me, right?” Dash shrugged. “It's just... not right.” Scootaloo muttered. “Gilda needs some meat in her diet or she'll get sick,” Dash said defensively. “I figured since she's having an even worse day than I am, I'd splurge a bit and get her something good.” “That tastes good?” Scootaloo sat down next to Dash, keeping her distance from the griffon. She looked at what Dash was eating, trying not to look sickened by the idea. Dash nodded. “Yeah! It's pretty awesome, actually. When I was your age, I ate meat all the time-” “Because you stole it from my lunchbox,” Gilda interrupted, tearing a wing from her chicken, the thin bones crunching in her beak. Scootaloo started looking green at that, glancing at her own wings and wincing as she imagined it happening to her. “-And now I'm the best flier around!” Dash finished, gesturing with the remains of the drumstick she was holding. “So it's like... a secret training technique?” Scootaloo asked. “Eh, sure. We'll go with that.” Dash shrugged. “Definitely a secret though. I don't want ponies spreading it around, you know?” Mostly because she didn't want them to know she ate meat. Fluttershy knew, mostly because she and Dash both bought meat from the same pony, if for completely different reasons, but she'd never tell anypony. It was hard enough to get her to talk at all, sometimes. “You want some?” Gilda asked, offering Scootaloo a hunk of meat torn from the chicken breast. “Gilda, um...” Dash looked at Scootaloo. “I don't know if that's such a good idea.” There was something disquieting about trying to get Scootaloo to eat chicken. It felt wrong, somehow. “If you did it, Dash, I totally am too!” Scootaloo bravely took the scrap of meat, looking at it. With no bones or anything, it was hard to identify it as actually being part of an animal. It could have just been a really weird squash or something. Scootaloo put it in her mouth and started chewing. For about five seconds she was able to convince herself it wasn't that bad. Then the taste really hit her, the briny, meaty flavor filling her senses and making her start to dry heave. She couldn't bring herself to swallow, spitting it out and looking sick. “How can you eat that?!” Scootaloo demanded. “It's terrible!” She stuck out her tongue. “Hey, I'm a decent cook!” Dash protested. “Gilda even said so herself, and she never tells anypony that they do anything right!” “I told you, Dash, ponies don't eat meat.” Gilda snorted, taking another bite of her chicken. “You're just weird.” “You're the weird one,” Dash grumbled. “I think I'm gonna be sick...” Scootaloo complained, grabbing her stomach. “Alright, alright.” Dash sighed. “Let's go find somewhere more clear and we'll see about getting some training done.” *** Dash had guessed correctly. The second that Scootaloo was distracted trying to fly, she'd forgotten all about being sick. Gilda lounged in the shade and watched them. “I'm flapping as hard as I can!” Scootaloo complained. “It's not just about flapping hard,” Dash said. “There's pegasus magic... stuff.” She wasn't the best at explaining things. Most pegasai just instinctively knew how to fly. Dash had tried the instinct thing with Scootaloo by shoving her off of a cloud, and only just barely managed to catch her before she hit a rose bush. “Magic stuff?!” Scootaloo demanded, panting with exertion. “Do I like, close my eyes and think about flying?” “If that's all it took you'd be in the air already,” Dash said, thinking and effortlessly keeping up with the galloping filly, flying in the air next to her. “You're an awful teacher, Dash!” Gilda yelled over, from where she was lying in the grass. “Hey, you only get to complain when you can do a better job!” Dash blushed. “I'm trying my best!” “Besides, shouldn't her mom be teaching her?” Gilda got up, stretching. “I mean I get it, Dash is probably the coolest pony in town, and definitely the best in the air, but still...” Dash stopped as Scootaloo slowed to a halt, her wings folding. “She doesn't really...” She looked at Scootaloo. The orange filly nodded for her to continue. “She's an orphan. She doesn't have a parent to teach her, and the orphanage here is run by earth ponies.” “Oh.” Gilda blinked. “Aw feathers. I'm sorry.” She scratched her head sheepishly, looking down. “I didn't mean...” She sighed and walked over to Scootaloo. “I guess all I can do today is apologize to everypony I meet. I'm sorry, kid.” “It's okay,” Scootaloo said quietly. Gilda hesitated then ruffled Scootaloo's mane with a talon. “Hey, if Dash thinks you're cool, you must be. She's a better judge of character than I am.” Gilda looked at Dash. “Guess I'll just have to make up for it by showing Dash that I am totally a better teacher than she is.” “You're not.” Dash said, flatly. “I totally am,” Gilda smirked. “I taught you everything you know.” “No, you taught me everything you know. It took about five minutes.” Dash flew up over Scootaloo. “From what I remember it was all swooping and dives, and then a lot of awkward flapping until you found a thermal.” “So I need to find a thermal?” Scootaloo asked, confused. “First, let's see what I'm working with here.” Gilda gently examined one of Scootaloo's undersized wings, squeezing it softly. “Hm. Muscles are really well developed, and your feathers are in decent condition. You're definitely putting work into it, kid.” “I practice almost every day,” Scootaloo said, proudly, smiling a little. “I can tell.” Gilda thought for a moment. “Flap your wings. I just wanna see your technique, so do it kinda slow.” Scootaloo started flapping. Gilda walked to her side to see it from there. “There's nothing wrong with her technique,” Dash snorted. “I've been helping her for a while now, and it's totally fine.” “She's been teaching you that long and you don't have head trauma? I'm impressed.” Gilda pointed at Scootaloo's wings. “She's totally just fluttering. She needs to paddle.” “She has small wings. Small wings mean you have to flutter more,” Dash countered. “All she's gonna do if she's fluttering is hovering! She needs to get forward momentum so she's getting air over her wings!” Gilda stood up straighter, looming over Dash. She responded by rising into the air to look her in the eyes. “If she doesn't get off the ground first, that's just gonna trip her up!” “You don't even know the first thing about flying, you lame duck!” Gilda glared, pointing at Dash. She spread her wings instinctively, trying to look bigger. It was a predator instinct thing. Scootaloo's flapping slowed and stopped as she looked at the underside of Gilda's wings. Her head slowly tilted to the side as she tried to understand just what she was looking at as the argument continued. Just as the two were really starting to scream in each other's faces, an honored tradition the two had shared since they'd first met, she blurted out what she was thinking. “She has your cutie mark on her wings!” The argument ended as Gilda made a choked squarking sound and folded her wings so quickly that they almost cracked like a whip. Dash bit her lip and tried hard to look anywhere at all except at Scootaloo. “...Dash, why does she have your cutie mark on her wings?” Scootaloo frowned, her surprise turning into deep suspicion. “Well...” Dash was rapidly working out some kind of excuse involving ancient curses, Discord, and a crash into Cloudsdale's rainbow factory. She'd nearly gotten it into a roughly believable order in her head before Gilda ruined it utterly. “We're married!” Gilda blurted. “What?!” Scootaloo demanded, her eyes going so wide, Dash was pretty sure they were about to tear free of her skull entirely in surprise. “Gilda!” Dash yelled, turning red. “What?! It's the truth, sort of!” Gilda said, defensively. “So you're living with her now?” Scootaloo asked. “Yes,” Gilda said. “No!” Dash countered. “Well... yes. Her parents kicked her out because of the... feather thing. It's complicated. We're trying to fix it.” “What do you mean fix it?” Scootaloo was even more confused now. “She means get rid of this mark so I'm a free bird again,” Gilda clarified, spreading a wing to display the cutie mark again. “You... don't want to be married to her?” Scootaloo was trying to wrap her head around the idea. “But she's so cool! And you were friends before, right? Why don't you want to be married to her, huh?” She glared and advanced on Gilda, poking her in the chest fluff with a hoof accusingly. “You saying she's not good enough for you?!” “It's not like that, squirt!” Dash said, intervening. “It's not about good or bad. It wasn't like we went out and meant to get married. Imagine that tomorrow you wake up and everypony says you're married to Apple Bloom, and it's forever. She's your friend and you like her, but you'd still be upset that you didn't get to make the choice, right?” “I get it,” Scootaloo said, sitting down. “I'm sorry, Miss Gilda. Gilda Dash? Rainbow Gilda?” “Just Gilda.” Gilda glanced at Dash for a moment before sighing and looking away, focusing on Scootaloo and forcing a smile into her face. “Let's try this again, but with more paddling and less fluttering.” *** “Yo, Twilight!” Dash shouted, as she and Gilda flew in through the window. Twilight had helpfully placed a pile of cushions opposite the window. Dash was perplexed as to what they were for until she saw the note helpfully taped to it. Rainbow Dash Crash Barrier Twilight looked up as the pegasus frowned. “Oh, don't mind that. It's just for emergencies.” Twilight waved for Dash to come over. “We need to talk.” She pulled out a long scroll. At the top, in thick, official writing and stamped with the mark of the Cloudsdale Records Bureau. “It's about your family.” Author's Note *gasp* Dramatic cliffhanger!
Owl By HerselfSpring. One of the busiest times of the year for Ponyville's weather team, and this year was no exception. Rainbow Dash groaned as she fell onto her bed, wings sore and feeling like she hadn't slept right in a week. Which she hadn't, since her definition of sleeping right included quite a few naps, and she'd been too busy to take any. “Ugh. Tomorrow I'm changing the schedule so I don't get stuck with somepony who can't even wrangle a raincloud.” She rubbed her flank where a stray lightning bolt had singed her. “I can't believe Thunderlane and his stupid idea to just smash all the clouds together so he'd only have to make one trip.” Dash closed her eyes. Maybe she'd finally be able to get a few hours of rest now that she was off duty for the rest of the day. Just as she started to drift off, there was a knock at her front door. Dash groaned and threw a pillow towards the noise. “Noooooo!” She rolled over. “If it's Tirek again tell him he can't take over Equestria until I've had a decent nap!” Dash looked at her alarm clock. Usually at this point it would inform her that in the blink of an eye she'd not only slept through the night but also the alarm. For once, the infernal thing hadn't betrayed her, showing that she had indeed only been in bed a few minutes. The knocking came again, louder and more frantic. Dash got out of bed, rolling right off and landing on the cloud floor heavily. Well, as heavily as a pegasus could land on a cloud. Even the somewhat sturdier construction-grade cloud of her home was like landing on foam. She took a deep breath, only to realize she'd also landed on a dirty sock, the smell hitting her like two weeks of unwashed hoof. “Why do I even have these? I barely ever wear them...” She said, for the tenth time. It was precisely because she rarely wore them that they'd been able to go unwashed for so long. It did, however, manage to wake her up very quickly, coughing and kicking the sock to a different corner of the room. The knocks kept coming. Dash stumbled to the door and pulled it open, ready to either go into panic mode or start screaming. It was definitely going to be one of the two. “This had better be-” Dash started, before she was frozen in a combination of two emotions: confusion, surprise, and anger. Three emotions. “Heyyyy....” Gilda said, trying to smile. Dash's eye twitched. Anger and screaming was definitely starting to win. “You've got a lot of nerve coming back after what you said about my friends last time, Gilda!” “Yes, yes I do,” Gilda agreed, slowly lowering herself down until her eye level was below Dash's. “W-what if I told you I was totally ready to do anything to get back on your good side?” “...” Dash raised an eyebrow. “Anything?” “Anything,” Gilda said, looking down and swallowing, her throat dry. “Maybe we should talk inside? Or over drinks? I'll buy!” “You? Buying drinks?” Dash took a step back in surprise. “You never buy drinks. Ever! It's one of your rules!” She looked over the griffon. Her eyes were red and wet. “Okay. I'll hear you out. And if it's a good story, I'll buy the drinks.” *** Gilda looked down at her cider. She'd had three already. Dash was still on her first. She hadn't started talking yet. The griffon finished her fourth and put the mug aside. Dash coughed. “Gonna start telling me or not?” Dash asked, watching her. “I just... I'm trying to work up to it.” Gilda sighed. “Okay. So it's like this. There's bad news, worse news, and more bad news.” “Let me guess,” Dash smirked. “You realized you were a total beakbrain last time you were here, and you came to apologize to me and my friends. I've been waiting for that for a while. Nopony can resist the Dash. It was only a matter of time before you came back. But hey, that's okay. If I'm honest, I missed you too.” “You did?” Gilda looked up, surprised. “That's- that's good!” She seemed happier. “You know, I tried to find you during the Equestrian Games but they kept us away from the competitors. I was going to tell you... that you were really awesome out there.” “Gilda, I'm always awesome.” Dash smirked. “Now come on. Tell me the bad news.” “Promise me you won't freak out,” Gilda said, taking a deep breath. “Hey, I don't 'freak out'. I'm as cool as a cucumber on ice in a snowstorm.” “Well,” Gilda coughed. “It's kind of a long story...” *** One month ago. Gilda was preening her feathers and checking herself in the mirror. She looked great. She felt great. It was the most special day of her life and absolutely nothing was going to go wrong. “Gilda! Are you ready yet?” Her mother yelled. Gilda rolled her eyes. Her family belonged to one of the most affluent clans of the Griffon Kingdoms, and that meant that today, she had to dress up. She adjusted the straps on her dress, which like all griffon formal-ware, was derived from ancient military uniforms and armor. Maybe a hundred years ago it had been comfortable, but now it was a starched collar and a lot of leather straps that could, if you crossed your eyes, almost look like a weapon harness, which were all quite uncomfortable. For one brief moment she wished she still had the dress she'd worn to a formal at Flight School once, but she'd gotten rid of it after she and Dash had parted ways. Too many painful memories. “Yeah! Just one sec!” She took a deep breath and glanced at a picture stuck to the mirror with a Wonderbolts sticker. Her and Dash, hanging out in Cloudsdale. She had a talon around Dash's neck, grabbing her in a tight hug, the young pegasus smirking despite the claw at her throat. “Ugh...” Gilda grabbed the corner of the picture, intending to tear it down. Something stopped her, a pang of regret she hadn't felt in years. “Whatever. I'm so lame.” She laughed a little and left the photo where it was, turning to leave her room. “Finally,” Her mother said. Jeska was a head taller than Gilda, with the same purple tips to her feathers, though her coat of fur over her rear half was so dark it was almost black. She stopped Gilda and adjusted her outfit. “Look at you! All grown up and ready for your Feathermark Day!” “Mooooom, stop!” Gilda groaned, as the elder griffon started tugging at her feathers to straighten them. “I just want you to be perfect,” She said, sighing. Gilda walked past her. “Yeah, yeah. Is Brunhilda ready?” Gilda looked towards the kitchen. She could smell the food being cooked there for after the ceremony. She licked her beak. It smelled like salt-crusted fish being baked, her favorite food since she was just a chick. “Almost!” Yelled a voice from the kitchen, her other mother stepping out and tearing off an apron. “I just had to take something out of the oven so it wouldn't burn. Is the Hierophant here yet?” Brunhilda moved to nuzzle Jeska. The larger griffon returned the gesture. “He's out back getting everything set up. Oh, it's so exciting!” Jeska laughed. “Our little Gilda, finally becoming an adult.” Brunhilda sighed. “Maybe we can start trying to find her a nice drake to settle down with.” “Or a hen,” Jeska said. “She does take after me, you know. At least her back half.” “Mom!” Gilda blushed. Brunhilda ignored her protest. “Well, I have to admit I do like that part of you. I think she could make a hen very happy.” The two nuzzled, while Gilda tried to find a way to just fall over and die from embarrassment. For some reason, despite feeling an intense desire for death, it wasn't enough to make her heart stop. “I think we should get out there before she starts moulting in despair.” Jeska noted, glancing to the back of the home. The two pulled apart, leading Gilda out of the wide back double doors to the yard, where an elderly griffon with gray streaks through his fur and feathers that were ragged around the feathers with age and rough molting. He was wearing his own formal-wear, almost more girly that Gilda's, with a kilt over his flank and thin metal plates down his right forelimb, a wrap around his head that, in a distant age, would have been used to keep sand out of his eyes but today was more about showing the colors and patterns of his tribe. “Gilda,” He said, he voice booming and deep. “Today you are of age and prepared to become a full member of the tribe and the right to become the head of your own household. Are you prepared for this responsibility?” “I am,” Gilda said. The hierophant nodded and turned, claws sparking with magic, and the bonfire behind him sprung into multicolor light, with shades of purple among the dancing flames on the logs. “Excellent,” he said, very serious. “Have you been instructed on what will happen today?” It was a trick question. Or a ritualized one. It was hard to say which description would be more accurate. Everyone knew what was going to happen. She'd know even if her mothers hadn't already explained it to her before. But it was also supposed to be a secret. Rituals had more power when they were secrets, and this was no exception. Gilda stood up and looked him in the eye. “No.” An obvious lie, but one that needed to be said. The hierophant nodded in approval. “First, you will put this on.” He gave Gilda a cotton robe. It was just a bit off-white, made so it would stain easily, unlike her clothing. “It too will bear the marks from today, and will serve as a reminder of the bonds you have to your family and tribe.” Gilda pulled it on over her formal-wear like the dust cloak it was meant to resemble. The hierophant picked up a wide, shallow bowl, full of sacred oils and herbs. Dragging a claw through it, spirals of color spilling out as the oil was transformed. “Prepare yourself,” he said. Gilda spread her wings and closed her eyes. She'd been warned that getting rosemary and mistletoe in her eyes was a very bad way to start a day. Not as bad as when Brunhilda had found out that she was allergic to mistletoe oil and ended up turning puffy and pink all day. Thankfully it wasn't a trait that Gilda shared, as far as she knew. The oil and paint splashed on Gildas as the hierophant emptied the bowl with a skillful throw. Gilda waited for it to start dripping away, the pigments drying in the heat of the bonfire. It would paint her dust cloak in a kaleidoscope of color that would be used later to try and divine her future. Not that she believed in that. The most important thing it would do, though, would be to show her family markings on the underside of her wings. They were a lot like a cutie mark on a pony, but showed relationships and bonds instead of special talents. When griffons mated, one of the two would find their feathermarks changed to match the others, or occasionally both would change to something new. There was silence as the oil dripped away from her feathers. That was strange. Usually they'd start cheering now. Gilda opened her eyes and looked at her wings. “Oh buck me,” she said under her breath. Her family feathermark was something like a tangle of rose stems around a gripping talon. That was not what was on Gilda's wings. There, displayed for her mothers to see, was a cloud with a multicolored lightning bolt shooting out of it.
Fowl PlayIt all started the first day Gilda went to Flight School in Cloudsdale. Everyone knew that the ponies had the best schools in the world, or at least that having a degree from one of their schools opened a lot of doors later in life. That wasn't something Gilda cared about. What she cared about was that she was stuck somewhere lame, with a bunch of lame ponies, eating lame food, and she couldn't go home until winter break! “This is the worst,” She groaned, looking around. She was standing in the large rotunda that was the main hall of the Flight School. Everything was bright and pastel, the roof an open framework letting the sunlight and wind inside, along with a few ponies who were brave enough to come in from above. Even if it wasn't full of pegasai keeping the weather away, very few clouds managed to get high enough to attempt to rain down on the school. “Make a hole!” Somepony screamed. Ponies started diving for cover. Gilda turned around, confused, just in time for a cyan and rainbow blur to slam into her at high speed. She went tumbling to the ground, sliding a dozen paces into a wall and cracking her skull on something firmer than clouds. Her vision filled with stars as she tried to stand and failed, having momentarily forgotten which direction was down. “What in Tartarus hit me?” She groaned. “I said to make a hole!” Gilda's chest said. It felt heavy for some reason. She looked at it. A pony was hanging from it. No, wait. Standing on it. She was just upside-down. It explained why she couldn't stand up. “You ran into me,” Gilda said, shaking her head to clear it. “Why the buck didn't you watch where you were going?!” “I did! And I yelled for you to get out of the way! It's not my fault you're too slow!” The pony jumped up and down on Gilda's chest, driving the air from her lungs. Gilda grunted and grabbed her front hoof, throwing her across the room. “Get off me!” Gilda roared, finally getting her paws under her. She still felt like someone was trying to mine for gold in her skull. “Idiot, crashing into things without even looking...” “Hey! I don't crash!” The pony got up, frowning and walking back up to Gilda, getting up in her face fearlessly. “I'm the best flier here and everypony knows it!” Gilda felt her feathers ruffle. The pony was half her size and refused to back down. It was the first day of school, and she had to make sure she started out on top. In a griffon school that meant fighting the toughest hen in the bunch. Which, Gilda realized, was probably exactly what this pony was trying to do. She smirked. “More like the worst,” Gilda said. “I don't see any other ponies who forgot how to land. Maybe we should get you a helmet so you won't hurt yourself!” The pony growled, her rainbow mane standing on end. “Oh that's it. You're going down!” She jumped at Gilda, punching her in the beak. Gilda reared up, grabbing her and pulling her into a ground match, raking her with her back claws, just hard enough to hurt. Her claws were mostly blunt from disuse anyway, but she didn't want to kill her. “Ah!” the pony yelled, bucking with both of her back legs, getting Gilda in the gut and knocking her away. The griffon rolled and stood up, facing the pony before pouncing on her, taking a hoof to the eye and slamming the pony into the floor. There was a blinding light and crash of thunder. “What is going on here?!” A pony screamed, the light suddenly dark as storm clouds loomed over the rotunda. Gilda looked up to see a teacher glaring down at them. “Aw buck,” Gilda groaned. *** Half an hour later, Gilda could barely see out of her right eye because of the swelling, and her ribs were so tender she had to hold her wing away from her side. The pegasus she'd been fighting with was in almost as bad shape, with bandages around her stomach where Gilda had given her shallow cuts and her forehoof splinted from where it had sprained. The principal paced in front of them, giving them glares as she turned to face them. “In all my years as principal, I have never had two students start a fight like that, and on the very first day of school!” Miss Direction huffed. “I should have both of you expelled. It would be well within my rights.” “No! You can't!” The cyan pegasus said, suddenly panicked. “If I get kicked out of flight school I'll never join the Wonderbolts!” “Rainbow Dash, with your record of trouble-making you'll be lucky if they don't have one look at your permanent record and throw your application out the window and into the sun!” Miss Direction snapped. “And as for you, Gilda, an exchange student should be more polite and respectful! You're representing the other griffons and need to be on your best behavior!” “She started it!” Gilda protested, pointing at Rainbow Dash. “No, she started it! I was just flying and she wouldn't get out of the way!” Dash yelled, glaring at Gilda. “Yelling 'make a hole' isn't just flying! You were asking to hurt someone!” “Ponies know to get out of the way when I'm in a hurry!” “Well I'm not a-” “That's it!” Miss Direction snapped. “One more word out of either of you and I will have you expelled after all! Is that understood?!” Gilda and Dash nodded quickly. “Good.” She sighed and went back to her desk. “It's clear what the real issue is here. Both of you learn to get along with others. Since both of you are boarding here, I'm changing your room assignments. You will get to know each other very well by the end of the year, if you don't kill each other.” She started filling out some paperwork. “At least if you're roommates I can keep you from getting others involved.” *** “This is stupid!” Dash yelled, throwing her bag onto the bed. “Because of you I don't get to room with Flutters anymore!” “Please,” Gilda rolled her eyes, setting her own bag on the ground. “You're the one who decided to turn it into a fight.” “What?!” Dash turned on her. “You say that again when I don't have a sprained hoof, and I'll make sure that black eye of yours is part of a matched set!” “Look, kid, you've got guts starting a fight on the first day of school, but you're lucky I was holding back.” Gilda turned to Rainbow Dash, glaring at her. “If I wanted I could have torn you into giblets.” “You started the fight. And you should have known to get out of the way!” Dash started unpacking, starting by putting up wall hangings of the Wonderbolts. Gilda rolled her eyes and took a sandwich out of her lunch box, watching the pony. “Guess you're a big fan, huh?” She asked, looking at the wall hangings. “Aren't some of those show exclusives?” “You recognize them?” Dash asked, surprised. “Well duh. Even I know who the Wolderbolts are. They're pretty cool. For ponies, anyway.” Gilda unwrapped her sandwich and took a bite. “I saw a show once when they were in the Kingdom doing an exhibition with the Royal Fliers.” “Oh man I heard about that one! It was the show where they did the double inverted helix for the first time!” Dash started hopping on her bed. “What you didn't hear is that they didn't plan on it. You should have seen the looks on their faces after they did it. They were supposed to do a normal helix, but it got messed up and they starting going the wrong way and just went with it!” “How do you know that?” Dash asked, stopping and frowning suspiciously. “I could hear them arguing about it. I had a seat right over their bench. I hear they got a new captain this year though.” “Right over their bench?! But those are always VIP seats!” “Yeah, Momma Brun paid a bundle for them. Totally worth it though.” Gilda took another bite. Dash sniffed the air. “What is that? Potato salad?” She hopped off the bed and walked over to look. Gilda snorted and offered the pegasus the other half of the sandwich. “Chicken,” she said, watching the pony's expression with glee. Most ponies started to freak out around a carnivore. The question would be if Dash ran away in fear or vomited. She'd seen ponies do both at once, and that was the best result of all. “Huh,” Dash said, taking the sandwich and looking at it. “Isn't meat red?” “No, birds are usually white and fish are a couple of different colors- what are you doing?!” Gilda watched in horror as Dash took a bite of the sandwich, chewing and thinking. “That's not bad,” Dash said. She swallowed and took another bite. “I thought it would taste like eggs, but it's just kinda...” She thinks. “Kinda stringy and savory. Is this what griffons eat all the time?” “It's one of the things we eat, but ponies aren't supposed to have meat!” Gilda tried to take the sandwich away from Dash. The pegasus laughed and hopped away, flapping her wings. “Why not? This is great!” Dash stuffed her face with the rest of the sandwich so Gilda couldn't get it back, chewing loudly with her mouth open. Gilda groaned. “I'm gonna get in so much trouble.” Author's Note The beginning of a beautiful friendship. This takes place a few years before season 1. Don't worry, clop starts next chapter. I'd like to take a moment to thank my dignity and morals. They managed to keep me from writing this story until the bitter end. Their sacrifice has not been in vain.
Go Pluck Yourself“You know what I hate?” Dash groaned, rolling around on her bed. “Moulting season,” Gilda said, plucking a stray feather off of her bed and tossing it back on Dash's side of the room. “You've been saying that for two days now.” “I can't help it! It itches!” Dash stopped and bit her lip. “Look, um. C-could you maybe... preen me?” Gilda snorted and looked over at her. “What? You can't preen yourself?” “I'm not good at it, okay?” Dash blushed. “Dad used to help until it got weird, but mom was never really around to teach me.” She flapped her wings, and a few new feathers were added to the growing pile of fluff. “She left when I was just a baby.” “Ugh, enough with the pony sob story,” Gilda rolled her eyes. “I've got two moms. If you want one, you can borrow one of mine for a while.” “Two moms?” Dash frowned. “So you were adopted? Or... magic or something?” “Nah. Just one of my moms is, um... there's not a word for in in Equestrian. She's got both sets of parts.” “...Both sets of parts?” Dash stood up, tilting her head. “It's not that strange for griffons,” Gilda said, shrugging. “It has to do with being part bird and part mammal. Something about being a chimaera.” “Oh. That's kinda cool,” Dash said. She sat back down, momentarily distracted from her itching. “So one of your moms is also your dad... but she could be a mom, too? Like she gets to have it both ways! I bet she was real popular when she was dating!” Dash winked. Gilda rolled her eyes. “That's not how it works, Dash. Griffons mate for life. We don't sleep around with other griffons.” “Pfft,” Dash snorted. “Sure you don't. That's why you were totally not hitting on Jetstream at the fall formal.” “Hey, it doesn't count when it's ponies!” Gilda said defensively. “It's one of the rules. Mating is for life, but only between griffons. If you mess around with a pony or a diamond dog or whatever that's just for fun.” “So you can help me preen and it won't mess with that, right?” Dash asked, spreading her wings and looking at Gilda expectantly. The griffon sighed and stood up. “Anything for you, Dash.” She walked over to Dash's bed. “I still think it wouldn't be as bad if you didn't steal my lunch half the time. I keep telling you that meat isn't good for ponies.” “It's part of my secret training regimen,” Dash said. Gilda got up on the bed behind Dash, looking at her wings. Even for the middle of a moult, her feathers were in rough shape. Dash clearly wasn't taking care of them correctly, and her repeated crashes weren't helping much either. “Run that one by me again,” Gilda said, as she lowered her beak to Dash's wing, starting on the right one and gently teasing the feathers, trying to find the loose and broken ones. “Well, see, meat is basically like eating muscles, right?” Dash said, Gilda agreed and tugged on one of her primaries, making the pegasus squirm and groan. “Keep doing that. It feels amazing.” “Keep talkin' Dash,” Gilda said, holding her down as the pegasus kept trying to shift and squirm. Gilda grabbed a secondary and tugged it with her beak before letting go and moving onto the next, every little pull making the pegasus under her kick just a little, her wing twitching. “I- I figured since you are what you eat...” Dash gasped as Gilda found a broken feather and pulled it free. “If I eat a lot of muscles, I'll get a lot of muscles!” She was going to continue, but Gilda moved to the base of her wing and Dash collapsed, almost melting into a puddle from the attention. “You're really sensitive for somepony who keeps saying how tough they are,” Gilda smirked, moving to the other wing. Dash arched her back as Gilda found one of the really itchy spots and removed a badly broken feather, the pegasus finding instant relief from that small pain as it popped free from her wing. “That just felt so bucking good,” Dash moaned. “I really, really need to learn how to do that.” “I'm only half done,” Gilda said. “And trust me, it's not as good if you do it yourself.” Dash managed to mostly lay still as the griffon worked on her other wing, pulling feathers free and tugging others into place. Dash had to bite her pillow to keep from screaming, her back legs kicking feebly as a new scent filled the air, Dash shivering as she came. “Oh no. Y-you can't tell anyone-” Dash paled, panting, as Gilda pulled away. “I won't,” Gilda said. “Here. It's my turn.” She laid down on her bed. “If you think you can still walk far enough to get over here, you can learn how to do it.” “But it's so far away!” Dash complained. “I don't want to lie down in your mess, Dash.” Gilda looked at her dirtied bed, wetness spreading from between Dash's legs. “Give me a minute,” Dash said, rolling onto her side. “I never felt anything like that before. That was so awesome!” “Yeah well, that's why I want some preening too!” Gilda rolled her eyes. Every day she had to explain something simple to the energetic little pony. It was like her father had never bothered explaining anything about life to her. “Alright, alright.” Dash managed to stand and worked her way over to Gilda's bed. “I've never really done this to somepony else before. So just tell me when I'm doing it right.” “You'll know,” Gilda said. Dash started in on her wings, pulling on her feathers gently. Too gently. “Harder, Dash! You gotta tug them into place and look for the broken ones.” Dash got a little better with practice, and a few minutes later Gilda was humming peacefully, starting to relax. Dash managed to pull out a broken covert that had been bothering her for a while, and Gilda arched her back, moaning. Between being preened and the smell of Dash's arousal, she was starting to feel very comfortable herself, at least until Dash saw the effect it was having on her. “Woah!” Dash said, backing away and blushing. “Gilda, you've- you've got-” She was more bright red than blue at this point. Gilda glanced back at her hindquarters, where a familiar presence was making itself known and rubbing on the bed. “It's a penis,” Gilda said, sighing. “I, um. I take after both of my mothers. I guess I should have warned you.” She groaned. “Guess that's the end of preening today.” “Is that why you were hitting on Jetstream and not Thunderlane?” Dash asked, lifting Gilda's tail for a better look. “Well... yeah,” Gilda admitted. “I mean if you've got extra parts, you might as well use them, right? I mean, she was kinda cute I guess. But I should have known she'd get scared off since I'm a griffon.” “Not everypony can be as awesome as me,” Dash smirked. “I set the bar, like, super-high.” “You're somethin' all right,” Gilda laughed. “Look, just give me a few minutes and I'll try to calm this thing down.” She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. She just had to think of hoofball and snowstorms and lame ponies that couldn't even fly. “No way. I wanna see it,” Dash said. She tried to move Gilda's leg so she could see. “I bet it's all strange and stuff!” “Dash! Stop it!” Gilda shifted on the bed, trying to get away from the curious pegasus. “Come on! If you don't let me see it I'm gonna keep bothering you until you do!” Dash gave Gilda a determined look, the griffon meeting her gaze over her shoulder and sighing, rolling over and almost throwing Dash from the bed with the sudden motion. “Fine! Just get it over with.” Gilda sighed. Dash grinned as she got her first good look at the forbidden fruit. Gilda's penis was long and tapered, coming to a point with only a suggestion of a head, unlike the blunt instruments Dash had seen on ponies. It was almost graceful, fading from red to a pastel pink and slick with Gilda's fluids, more dripping from the tip in a steady stream. “It almost makes me jealous,” Dash said, under her breath. She touched it with her hoof gently, afraid she'd hurt the raw-looking flesh. Under the slick wetness there was something rough, tiny barbs in a ring around the head. “Woah! I didn't say you could touch it!” Gilda yelled, as her penis twitched from the contact. A drop of her precum splashed onto the tip of Dash's nose, making the pegasus's snout scrunch from the unexpected wetness. “You're the one who said you wanted me to return the favor, right?” Dash asked, rubbing her nose with her hoof and getting the smell of griffon all over her. Dash had never done more than mess around with other ponies. Not that she wasn't curious, just that none of them could really keep up with her. Part of her wanted to save herself for one of the Wonderbolts, but the rest of her was Rainbow Dash, and that part of her said that waiting that long meant years of not being satisfied. “I didn't mean like that!” Gilda said, trying to sit up. She had just gotten her back off of the bed before Dash landed on her chest with a thud and drove her back down onto it, the pegasus facing her for a moment with a smirk of triumph before turning around to look at the griffon's cock from a different angle, rubbing her wet nethers against Gilda's chest. “Come on, don't be a pussy, cat.” Dash laughed at her little joke. “Now come on. I've never done this kinda thing before. What do I do?” “I just told you, I don't mess around. Mate for life, remember?” Gilda made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a purr as Dash licked the tip of her member. “You also said ponies don't count.” Dash smirked and looked back at her. “Come on. You're like the coolest flier in school, I'm still worked up like crazy from when you were preening me, and this is probably like the only chance I'll ever have to get with a griffon.” “What, is it moulting season and your heat at the same time?” Gilda asked, snorting. “You never act like this.” “And I don't remember you not wanting to have fun,” Dash countered. “I mean we live together already, right? So if we mess around with each other it means we get to have fun and nopony gets left out or stuck finding somewhere else to spend the night!” Gilda hesitated. “...Alright, but it's not, like, serious, okay? I don't want you getting lame and sappy.” “Yeah. Just the magic of friends with benefits!” Dash smirked, turning back to Gilda's cock. “Now from what I saw in those mags Thunderlane was trying to hide..” She leaned down, spreading her legs and rubbing herself against Gilda's chest as she licked the griffon, tasting the salty fluid dribbling from her. Gilda started purring, lying back and raising her hips up just off of the bed as Dash's tongue found its way along the shaft. “You're just teasing me,” Gilda said, quietly. “It feels weird on my tongue,” Dash said, sitting up. “Like it doesn't taste bad, but it tingles.” “My mom said it's supposed to make it so the barbs don't hurt.” Gilda shifted as Dash gave the tip another lick. “Look, griffons really aren't good at the whole birds and bees thing. My mom just said never mate with anyone you can't deal with for the rest of your life and that I'd have to figure the rest out myself.” “Hm.” Dash considered. “And I bet you'd just love to have a hen under you.” She smirked and got up, leaving Gilda's chest sticky with her fluids, trotting over to her own bed with her tail held high. “How about it? That'd be fun for both of us!” Dash bent over, resting her front and forelegs on the mattress and leaving her lower half exposed and on clear display, lips pink and inviting, traces of Dash's excitement running down her inner thighs. “This is such a bucking terrible idea,” Gilda whispered, getting up in a rush, like her throbbing member was drawn by a spell towards the waiting pegasus. She pressed her down into the bed, her talons gripping the mattress ahead of Dash's hooves thanks to her larger frame. Gilda breathed into her mane as she got lined up, hunching her hips as her tip poked Dash's thighs, seeking her wet hole and leaving a trail as she missed. “Come on, now you're the one who's teasing!” Dash whined, squirming her hips to try and help and accomplishing exactly the opposite. Gilda growled and bit her shoulder just above the wing joint. Dash gasped and went still from the nip, letting the griffon finally find her mark. The tip slid in easily, penetrating her to the core. Dash's mouth hung open as her mind went blank. “Oh, fire and feathers, that's good,” Gilda groaned. She held herself in, hip deep in Dash. The pegasus fit her perfectly, just barely enough room for her to even rock her hips in the pegasus' depths. “Did you have to go in so fast?” Dash whispered, groaning as one of her legs started twitching. “You're the one who was complaining I was just teasing you. This is exactly what you get.” Gilda pushed Dash harder into the bed, using her chest to put weight on her. “Now be a good hen.” Gilda pulled back, the barbs on her member catching Dash's sensitive folds just a bit, scratching gently. Dash made a long, high pitched noise as it scraped inside her, Gilda purring at the sensation of Dash's marehood gripping her like a velvet glove. Her beak went to Dash's ear, nipping it lightly and making the mare jump, her inner walls contracting sharply for a moment. Gilda let go of her ear and thrust back in sharply, their mingled fluids dripping free of their joining and down Dash's body to soil the bed further. She let her instincts take control, her stance widening as she bore down harder on Dash, her pace increasing as she thrust into the pony under her, wet noises joining the gasps and purrs filling the room. “Dash, I'm gonna-” Gilda grabbed Dash's sides, the pegasus pushing back eagerly. “Inside,” Dash said breathlessly. “W-we already have a lot to clean up.” Gilda growled at that, nipping Dash again, pulling her mane with her beak as she thrust in so hard it knocked the pegasus off her hooves, only being held up by Gilda's talons as she buried herself in Dash, jets of hot seed making her taut belly swell out. Gilda purred and nuzzled Dash, her hips wriggling and trying to find another inch of cock to squeeze into the pegasus' wonderful tightness. As the last of her seed was squeezed out, Gilda pulled back, and Dash made a tiny breathless scream as she came again from the feeling as the griffon popped out. The barbs around Gilda's member had flared out when she came, Dash reaching another orgasm as they scraped her even through the torrent of thick lubrication coating her insides. Gilda collapsed next to the pegasus, Dash's legs collapsing. She started to slide off the bed until Gilda pulled her up to hold her. “I thought you didn't want to sit in my mess,” Dash said, panting and out of breath. She nuzzled the griffon, their bodies both drenched with sweat. “I guess it's my mess now too,” Gilda admitted. She smirked at Dash and hugged her tight, wrapping her back legs around her. “That was really awesome,” Dash said, her voice muffled as she buried her face in Gilda's feathers. “I can't even feel anything down there. It's just tingly and warm and good.” “You're gonna be bucking sore in the morning,” Gilda said. “You're probably all scraped up inside.” “That's future Dash's problem. Right now I'm busy enjoying it.” Author's Note Next Chapter: She was right. It's Future Dash's problem. Damn you, Past Dash! They're in their late teens at this point. Just imagine whatever the age of consent is in your local area and we'll run with that.
Don't FinchDash groaned and slammed her face into the wood of the table with enough force to leave a decent bruise. As she had predicted so long ago, it was now Future Dash's problem, and Future Dash really wanted to strangle Past Dash now. Berry Punch looked over at them with a raised eyebrow, but didn't say anything, the only pony aside from Dash in the bar. Of course there was someone who wasn't a pony sitting across from her, a person who was the source of all of her problems at this exact moment. “This is such a mess...” Dash groaned. “You have no idea,” Gilda said. “I got kicked out of my house. My moms said that since I was old enough to make bad decisions on my own, I was old enough to face the consequences.” “There's gotta be a way to fix this...” Dash considered. She sat up, wings extended with excitement, her ears perked up again. “Wait, I got it!” “What's the plan?” Gilda asked, sounding hopeful. “There's no time to explain! Hey, put this on my tab!” Dash yelled, flying out the door, Gilda running after. “We don't-” the bartender sighed, as they shot out of hearing distance. “We don't run tabs here.” “You do now!” Berry grinned. “Make my next one a double!” *** “Dash, when did this place get a castle?” Gilda asked, looking up at the huge crystalline tree, the spires of a castle nestled amidst the branches. “You know. Magic stuff.” Dash shrugged. “It kinda grew from this box thing... look, I can't explain it, and every time Twilight tried, my eyes kinda glazed over and I totally stopped paying attention. Once, she started explaining it, I flew off to get lunch, and when I came back she was still going!” “Is she even going to want to help?” Gilda swallowed, nervous. She knew she wasn't on the best terms with any of Dash's friends, especially since she hadn't actually apologized to them yet. “Sure. She's like a super-genius and stuff. I mean if she can turn Fluttershy into a monster, she can totally help with weird griffon magic.” Dash smirked. “Besides, she's always happy to help a friend in need.” Dash paused, thinking. “The friend in this case is me. You were kind of a jerk to everypony.” “Thanks for reminding me,” Gilda grumbled. “No problem. It'll be like ten minutes tops, then you go and apologize to everypony in town, then we'll be cool again.” Dash opened the door. “Trust me. We got this in the bag.” *** “Dash, I can't help with this,” Twilight said, raising her eyebrow. “This is the first time I ever even heard about griffon mating rituals!” She tapped the book she was holding with her hoof. It was one of the many that had been donated from libraries and ponies all around Equestria and beyond. This one had come from the griffon ambassador, Siegfried the Fourth, and detailed the griffon royal line and, thankfully, mentioned aspects of their mating rituals in the course of describing the family tree. It also mentioned death rituals, but Twilight held out hope it wouldn't come to that. “We just need you to fix her wings so they don't have my cutie mark all over them,” Dash sighed. “We don't need to know about rituals and stuff. I'm not asking you to play wingmare and help me pick up chicks or anything.” The pegasus rolled her eyes and sat back, leaning against Gilda. The griffon had clearly been uncomfortable the whole time she'd been in the castle, though given how her feathers unruffled whenever Dash settled next to her, it was obvious the pegasus was helping to keep her calm. She'd barely spoken at all, and seemed content to just stare at her talons or the floor. She hadn't met Twilight's gaze even once so far. “Clearly you're good enough at doing that yourself,” Twilight muttered. “Dash, it's like asking me to give Scootaloo a cutie mark. There's some magic I just can't do anything about.” “But you totally changed everypony's cutie mark for a while with Starswirl's spell,” Dash countered. “Remember? Fluttershy's animals almost turned me into soup!” “That was a unique situation. The unfinished spell interacted with the Elements of Harmony. I couldn't just do it to any two ponies I wanted! Even if I recreated the situation exactly, it might not have fixed anything. Believe me, I know.” “Huh?” Dash tilted her head. “When I realized I messed everything up, one of the first things I did was try Starswirl's spell a few more times. It didn't do anything at all. I was hoping that it would at least shuffle your cutie marks around again and I could just keep trying until I got it right.” “Yeah, but you did fix it in the end.” Dash pointed at Twilight. “So you can just fix this too. Just do the thing you did to us, but with Gilda. Problem solved.” “With a memory spell, Dash. Let's assume it would even work on Gilda at all for a moment. If I wanted to try and... and remove you from her, I'd have to remove her memories of you. She'd be like a total stranger. Is that what you really want?” Twilight's voice lowered towards the end as she tried to put the right amount of gravity into it. Dash paled, looking at Gilda. The griffon shared her appalled look, feathers starting to ruffle again. “No way. I didn't like this idea to begin with, and that's just crazy. I can't just let you root around in my head!” Gilda sounded almost panicked. It was the first time she'd said more than two words in a row since she'd apologized to Twilight profusely at Dash's prompting. “Good,” Twilight sighed. “I feel the same way. There are too many risks with mind magic. Even the memory spell I used to fix the Magical Mark Mix-Up Mayhem was too dangerous.” “Magical Mark Mix-up Mayhem? Is that what we're calling it now?” Dash couldn't keep a smile from creeping onto her face. “That sounds like the kind of name Pinkie would come up with.” “It's better than 'Twilight messes up everypony's life, again.'” Twilight blushed. “And I like alliteration. It's good for titles. Better than puns, anyway.” “What about an illusion spell?” Spike put in, as he hefted a new stack of books and put them down near Twilight. “Sorry that took so long. I never thought I'd say this, but we need to reorganize the library.” Twilight smiled warmly and patted him on the head. “See, Spike? Now you know why I had you do it whenever we got new books in.” “Illusions don't work,” Gilda muttered. Twilight and Dash looked at her, both surprised she was actually offering input. “It... Twilight, that's the Fall and Rise of the Schwartzveld Family, right?” “Yeah,” Twilight nodded. “A first edition, too! It's probably two hundred years old and-” “Check out what happened with Einhawken the Second,” Gilda sighed. Twilight flipped to the front of the book, finding him in the table of contents, and paged through to his entry. “Let's see... 'After the death of Einhawken the First, his successor, Einhawken the Second, was challenged by another griffon who claimed to be Einhawken's illegitimate firstborn. The challenge nearly made it to the dueling stage before the treachery was uncovered, and the challenger, may his name be forever forgotten, was revealed as a fake, his feathermarks disguised with spellwork and sorcery by a rival noble house seeking to usurp the Winged Throne.'” “Feathermarks aren't just decoration, they're like... you have identification papers, right? I had to get them to cross the border. In the Kingdom, it's different. They just check your feathers and take your name and you're good to go.” “So?” Dash asked. Twilight groaned, the implications hitting her. “So if they're used for identification purposes, it means they have some way of validating them,” Twilight sighed. “The same way all our papers use an Arcane Mark spell to prove they're legitimate.” “Yeah. They've got all kinds of detection spells. And if you're trying to hide your marks? You get to go right to prison, no questions asked, until they can sort the mess out. Even if there was an illusion that lasts long enough and can fool the spells they're using right now, eventually they'll change the spells and I'll get caught and I'll end up going to jail for it.” “Sorry, Gilda,” Dash groaned. “This is all my fault.” “Yes, it is,” Twilight agreed. “Definitely,” Gilda mumbled. “And that doesn't even touch on the idea that griffons are supposed to mate for life!” Twilight stood up, pacing in a tight circle. “If she goes out and tries to find somepony to be with, it'd be like she's cheating on her husband!” Twilight stopped. “Or wife? I don't know how it works between you two- and don't try to explain!” She yelled the last part as she saw Dash open her mouth with an expression on her face that clearly said she was going to reveal information better left unsaid. “Aw, come on, Twilight. You know you're curious.” Dash smirked. “I am not curious about your... sexual escapades, Dash!” Twilight's face slowly turned red. “And from what you told me, you were barely more than a foal when this started! How would you feel if Scootaloo started telling you about what she did with... with...” Twilight was grasping for straws here. “Soarin! Or Thunderlane!” “If it was Thunderlane I'd kick his butt off the weather team for dating a pony that's like a sister to me without my permission,” Dash said. “But if it was Soarin... I'd probably be mad jealous and ask for details.” “Dash!” Twilight gasped. “That's awful!” “Yeah, I know. I shouldn't be jealous,” Dash sighed. “I should just be happy for her.” “I meant the double standard!” Twilight felt like she needed a long shower. Maybe a cold one. Ice cold. She let her mind wander for a moment, wondering if the castle was connected to Ponyville's municipal water supply. She wasn't even sure if she was supposed to pay property taxes on it or not. Technically it was probably a government-owned building, and she could blow up anypony who came asking for back taxes... “Yo, Equestria to Twilight?” Dash was waving a hoof in her face. “I know you don't handle relationship stuff well, but we kinda need you here.” “I was thinking of... alternate solutions,” Twilight said, lamely. “Like what?” Dash raised her eyebrow, challenging her. She leaned in to whisper. “Or were you just fantasizing about things you shouldn't be?” “I wasn't! The- we could just- they only last for life!” Twilight sputtered. “Yes! That's it! We'll just... kill one of you? Temporarily?” She winced at how awful the suggestion was. “Twilight, this is why you make checklists,” Spike sighed. “Whenever you try and do something on the fly, you manage to come up with the worst ideas.” “No, it's a great idea!” Twilight said. “We just need to stop Dash's heart for a few minutes. Probably.” She smiled, trying to look confident. It was not working. “Yeah... let's come up with a different plan.” Dash flew up and away from Twilight before she could do anything crazy, like stopping her heart. “Like asking Discord for help. That seems less dangerous, and I never thought I'd say that.” “Fine,” Twilight sighed. “I'll do some research to try and find something that can explain it. Maybe since you're a pony there's some other option we can take.” “That's the spirit. Just... find something a little less fatal. I'd rather be married than dead.” Gilda snorted. “That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me.” She rolled her eyes. Her stomach grumbled. “Sorry. I haven't eaten anything since I got kicked out of my own home because of this mess.” “Let's go get lunch,” Dash said. She flew over, glancing back at Twilight. “It'll give her some space to do her crazy Twilight stuff while we're not in the blast radius.” “Ugh. Pony cooking.” Gilda blanched. “I can't wait. Flowers and leaves. Bleh.” “Fine, we'll get griffon food.” Dash shrugged. “It's not like it bothers me. Come on. I know the pony Fluttershy gets her meat from when she needs to feed her carnivores.” She grabbed Gilda's talon and led her out the window, the two taking wing and flying away from the castle. Twilight flipped pages in her book, lost in thought for a moment before she realized something. “Wait, meat? Ponies can't eat meat!” She turned to look, but Dash was already gone. “Hmmm...” Twilight looked out the open window and thought for a few moments before turning to Spike. “Spike, take a letter.” *** Gilda tore into the meat, the juices dripping down her beak as she tore a chunk free from the chicken. Dash sat next to her in front of the small campfire they'd built, gnawing on a drumstick. They'd gone out into the Whitetail Woods to cook, after Dash got the idea in her head that a cookout over a real campfire would be fun. Since she had paid for two chickens, one for each of them, Gilda wasn't going to complain. She'd even helped get the fire going while Dash got the birds ready. “Okay, I admit,” Gilda said, as she licked her beak. “You're not a bad cook. Where did you even learn to cook like this? You used to burn soup when you tried to heat it up!” “It was after I came here,” Dash said. She took the drumstick out of her mouth, the bone almost picked clean. Dash ate almost like a vulture, picking bones nearly completely clean of meat and gristle. Gilda was messier about it, leaving bits near the joints and eating the small bones. “The closest place I can get griffon take-out is hours away, and I was eating meat a lot.” “What, still?” Gilda was surprised. She almost dropped what she was eating in shock. “I thought you'd stop after you didn't have me to mooch from.” “Hey, I meant it when I said it was good for building muscle. I made it part of my training routine. A lot of pegasai bulk up with protein while they're training. Usually eggs, but meat is way better.” Dash flexed her wings, showing off the toned muscles. “So I had to learn to cook it myself.” “You're one of a kind, Dash,” Gilda said, shaking her head. She blushed and looked away from the wings, getting butterflies in her stomach. She'd be the first to admit that Dash was attractive, but given they were trying to break up, making a move on her was probably a bad idea. “Dash! Dash!” There was the sound of crashing movement through the underbrush. “There you are! I've been looking for you all day!” Scootaloo broke through into the clearing, leaves and tree sap in her mane. Dash was never sure how she found so much tree sap. Maybe it was her real special talent, and she'd end up with a maple leaf as a cutie mark someday. “Oh yeah, it was our training day.” Dash groaned, talking around her food. “I'm sorry, Scoots. It's been a really strange day. We'll go flying after we finish lunch, okay?” Dash gestured to Gilda. Scootaloo blinked, noticing her for the first time. Usually she just ignored everything around her that wasn't Rainbow Dash. “Wait a minute, isn't this the griffon that was a jerk to everypony?” Scootaloo narrowed her eyes, approaching Gilda and looking her over with a critical eye. “She's not so tough looking.” “That's me,” Gilda snorted. “Just a giant jerk to everypony. So Dash is giving you flying lessons? You might wanna get somepony else to show you how to land. I don't think Dash ever learned how to do that.” She mimed crashing into the ground at high speed, even making wooshing and crashing sounds. “Hey! I'm great at landing! Usually.” She blushed. “Besides, I have to teach her how to get up in the air before I teach her how to get down.” “What are you girls eating?” Scootaloo asked, sniffing. “Is it potatoes or- those are bones! You're eating an animal!” She backed away, suddenly afraid. “Are you eating a pony?! Is it Diamond Tiara? If it is, I promise I won't tell anypony!” “A pony?” Gilda laughed. “No way. That's like, horror stories. Griffons don't eat ponies. It's just a couple of chickens.” “Chickens? Like the ones that lay eggs?” Scootaloo frowned. “But- killing animals is wrong!” “Don't worry about it, Scoots. I got this from T-Bone. The same guy Fluttershy gets fish and stuff from for the pets that need meat. I figure if it's humane enough for Flutters, it's good enough for me, right?” Dash shrugged. “It's just... not right.” Scootaloo muttered. “Gilda needs some meat in her diet or she'll get sick,” Dash said defensively. “I figured since she's having an even worse day than I am, I'd splurge a bit and get her something good.” “That tastes good?” Scootaloo sat down next to Dash, keeping her distance from the griffon. She looked at what Dash was eating, trying not to look sickened by the idea. Dash nodded. “Yeah! It's pretty awesome, actually. When I was your age, I ate meat all the time-” “Because you stole it from my lunchbox,” Gilda interrupted, tearing a wing from her chicken, the thin bones crunching in her beak. Scootaloo started looking green at that, glancing at her own wings and wincing as she imagined it happening to her. “-And now I'm the best flier around!” Dash finished, gesturing with the remains of the drumstick she was holding. “So it's like... a secret training technique?” Scootaloo asked. “Eh, sure. We'll go with that.” Dash shrugged. “Definitely a secret though. I don't want ponies spreading it around, you know?” Mostly because she didn't want them to know she ate meat. Fluttershy knew, mostly because she and Dash both bought meat from the same pony, if for completely different reasons, but she'd never tell anypony. It was hard enough to get her to talk at all, sometimes. “You want some?” Gilda asked, offering Scootaloo a hunk of meat torn from the chicken breast. “Gilda, um...” Dash looked at Scootaloo. “I don't know if that's such a good idea.” There was something disquieting about trying to get Scootaloo to eat chicken. It felt wrong, somehow. “If you did it, Dash, I totally am too!” Scootaloo bravely took the scrap of meat, looking at it. With no bones or anything, it was hard to identify it as actually being part of an animal. It could have just been a really weird squash or something. Scootaloo put it in her mouth and started chewing. For about five seconds she was able to convince herself it wasn't that bad. Then the taste really hit her, the briny, meaty flavor filling her senses and making her start to dry heave. She couldn't bring herself to swallow, spitting it out and looking sick. “How can you eat that?!” Scootaloo demanded. “It's terrible!” She stuck out her tongue. “Hey, I'm a decent cook!” Dash protested. “Gilda even said so herself, and she never tells anypony that they do anything right!” “I told you, Dash, ponies don't eat meat.” Gilda snorted, taking another bite of her chicken. “You're just weird.” “You're the weird one,” Dash grumbled. “I think I'm gonna be sick...” Scootaloo complained, grabbing her stomach. “Alright, alright.” Dash sighed. “Let's go find somewhere more clear and we'll see about getting some training done.” *** Dash had guessed correctly. The second that Scootaloo was distracted trying to fly, she'd forgotten all about being sick. Gilda lounged in the shade and watched them. “I'm flapping as hard as I can!” Scootaloo complained. “It's not just about flapping hard,” Dash said. “There's pegasus magic... stuff.” She wasn't the best at explaining things. Most pegasai just instinctively knew how to fly. Dash had tried the instinct thing with Scootaloo by shoving her off of a cloud, and only just barely managed to catch her before she hit a rose bush. “Magic stuff?!” Scootaloo demanded, panting with exertion. “Do I like, close my eyes and think about flying?” “If that's all it took you'd be in the air already,” Dash said, thinking and effortlessly keeping up with the galloping filly, flying in the air next to her. “You're an awful teacher, Dash!” Gilda yelled over, from where she was lying in the grass. “Hey, you only get to complain when you can do a better job!” Dash blushed. “I'm trying my best!” “Besides, shouldn't her mom be teaching her?” Gilda got up, stretching. “I mean I get it, Dash is probably the coolest pony in town, and definitely the best in the air, but still...” Dash stopped as Scootaloo slowed to a halt, her wings folding. “She doesn't really...” She looked at Scootaloo. The orange filly nodded for her to continue. “She's an orphan. She doesn't have a parent to teach her, and the orphanage here is run by earth ponies.” “Oh.” Gilda blinked. “Aw feathers. I'm sorry.” She scratched her head sheepishly, looking down. “I didn't mean...” She sighed and walked over to Scootaloo. “I guess all I can do today is apologize to everypony I meet. I'm sorry, kid.” “It's okay,” Scootaloo said quietly. Gilda hesitated then ruffled Scootaloo's mane with a talon. “Hey, if Dash thinks you're cool, you must be. She's a better judge of character than I am.” Gilda looked at Dash. “Guess I'll just have to make up for it by showing Dash that I am totally a better teacher than she is.” “You're not.” Dash said, flatly. “I totally am,” Gilda smirked. “I taught you everything you know.” “No, you taught me everything you know. It took about five minutes.” Dash flew up over Scootaloo. “From what I remember it was all swooping and dives, and then a lot of awkward flapping until you found a thermal.” “So I need to find a thermal?” Scootaloo asked, confused. “First, let's see what I'm working with here.” Gilda gently examined one of Scootaloo's undersized wings, squeezing it softly. “Hm. Muscles are really well developed, and your feathers are in decent condition. You're definitely putting work into it, kid.” “I practice almost every day,” Scootaloo said, proudly, smiling a little. “I can tell.” Gilda thought for a moment. “Flap your wings. I just wanna see your technique, so do it kinda slow.” Scootaloo started flapping. Gilda walked to her side to see it from there. “There's nothing wrong with her technique,” Dash snorted. “I've been helping her for a while now, and it's totally fine.” “She's been teaching you that long and you don't have head trauma? I'm impressed.” Gilda pointed at Scootaloo's wings. “She's totally just fluttering. She needs to paddle.” “She has small wings. Small wings mean you have to flutter more,” Dash countered. “All she's gonna do if she's fluttering is hovering! She needs to get forward momentum so she's getting air over her wings!” Gilda stood up straighter, looming over Dash. She responded by rising into the air to look her in the eyes. “If she doesn't get off the ground first, that's just gonna trip her up!” “You don't even know the first thing about flying, you lame duck!” Gilda glared, pointing at Dash. She spread her wings instinctively, trying to look bigger. It was a predator instinct thing. Scootaloo's flapping slowed and stopped as she looked at the underside of Gilda's wings. Her head slowly tilted to the side as she tried to understand just what she was looking at as the argument continued. Just as the two were really starting to scream in each other's faces, an honored tradition the two had shared since they'd first met, she blurted out what she was thinking. “She has your cutie mark on her wings!” The argument ended as Gilda made a choked squarking sound and folded her wings so quickly that they almost cracked like a whip. Dash bit her lip and tried hard to look anywhere at all except at Scootaloo. “...Dash, why does she have your cutie mark on her wings?” Scootaloo frowned, her surprise turning into deep suspicion. “Well...” Dash was rapidly working out some kind of excuse involving ancient curses, Discord, and a crash into Cloudsdale's rainbow factory. She'd nearly gotten it into a roughly believable order in her head before Gilda ruined it utterly. “We're married!” Gilda blurted. “What?!” Scootaloo demanded, her eyes going so wide, Dash was pretty sure they were about to tear free of her skull entirely in surprise. “Gilda!” Dash yelled, turning red. “What?! It's the truth, sort of!” Gilda said, defensively. “So you're living with her now?” Scootaloo asked. “Yes,” Gilda said. “No!” Dash countered. “Well... yes. Her parents kicked her out because of the... feather thing. It's complicated. We're trying to fix it.” “What do you mean fix it?” Scootaloo was even more confused now. “She means get rid of this mark so I'm a free bird again,” Gilda clarified, spreading a wing to display the cutie mark again. “You... don't want to be married to her?” Scootaloo was trying to wrap her head around the idea. “But she's so cool! And you were friends before, right? Why don't you want to be married to her, huh?” She glared and advanced on Gilda, poking her in the chest fluff with a hoof accusingly. “You saying she's not good enough for you?!” “It's not like that, squirt!” Dash said, intervening. “It's not about good or bad. It wasn't like we went out and meant to get married. Imagine that tomorrow you wake up and everypony says you're married to Apple Bloom, and it's forever. She's your friend and you like her, but you'd still be upset that you didn't get to make the choice, right?” “I get it,” Scootaloo said, sitting down. “I'm sorry, Miss Gilda. Gilda Dash? Rainbow Gilda?” “Just Gilda.” Gilda glanced at Dash for a moment before sighing and looking away, focusing on Scootaloo and forcing a smile into her face. “Let's try this again, but with more paddling and less fluttering.” *** “Yo, Twilight!” Dash shouted, as she and Gilda flew in through the window. Twilight had helpfully placed a pile of cushions opposite the window. Dash was perplexed as to what they were for until she saw the note helpfully taped to it. Rainbow Dash Crash Barrier Twilight looked up as the pegasus frowned. “Oh, don't mind that. It's just for emergencies.” Twilight waved for Dash to come over. “We need to talk.” She pulled out a long scroll. At the top, in thick, official writing and stamped with the mark of the Cloudsdale Records Bureau. “It's about your family.” Author's Note *gasp* Dramatic cliffhanger!
