Gilda reclined atop a large rock, its surface smooth as a tabletop. Though the texture was fine, she couldn't help herself from shivering as its cold surface froze her veins. The mild breeze swirling around her didn't help matters. Her white and brown feathers swayed as they clung on her body. It was rather ticklish to an extent, though it failed to produce a single laugh.
Then again, it wasn't like any pony or griffon would hear her. As usual, Gilda was by her lonesome. It wounded her heart a little, but such twangs under this curse-like state were minimal, if even present.
At least the shimmering grains of sand around her dazzled the mind, as did the sparkling blue ocean as it roared and whipped about. A dimly lit rainbow arced across the sky, its smooth curvature fitting for a bridge or a slide. The palm trees to her left and right danced under the wind's instructions, their leaves whipping around and emitting cracking sounds as they collided with one another. Some of these trees also bore coconuts, a few of them falling from the tree and plopping onto the ground with a harsh thud. Upon staring at one of the coconuts, its outer shell cracked a little, her stomach churned. She never found delicacies like coconut milk to be her style. The drink's sweetness just wasn't her.
Taking her mind off the scenery, Gilda lowered her head and stared at the gray boulder below. Tapping the rock with her right claw, a harsh clank echoed into her ears. Her left talon gripped a pebble, its surface chipped and rough. With a quick toss to her right talon, Gilda raised her arm up and thrust the pebble's sharp edge into the rock's surface, a twang forming in her chest. A harsh screech polluted the air as she ran the pebble down the surface, carving a rough line across its face. Gilda's twinge began to run down her chest, coursing through her limbs.
Letting go of the pebble, Gilda then let out a deep sigh, rolling onto her back and gazing at the clear sky above her. There were a flock of seagulls and pelicans flying above her, flapping their wings and conversing with squeaks. A jet stream above the cluster of birds cut the sky, seemingly growing in length at a rapid pace.
Gilda grimaced, grasping a hold of the jagged pebble once more. With a ruffled brow, she then thrust her arm across her chest like a catapult. Her talon opened up, the pebble gliding through the air before skipping across the water. Gilda turned her head toward the ocean, observing the pebble make its maiden voyage.
Catching a glimpse of a low flying seagull approaching the pebble, Gilda's throat tightened. Images of the pebble kissing the seagull filled her mind, the near inevitable carnage turning her face a pale green. However, the pebble bounced over the seagull, its sharp edge almost glancing the bird's neck, and plopped into the water.
Gilda's heart skipped a beat. Turning on her side and leaning upwards, she rubbed her eyes, a soft chuckle escaping her beak.
"Don't know why I'm getting all scared of hurting some bird," Gilda muttered, her voice hoarse. "Am I turning into that lame pony?" She paused, then rubbed her beak. "Right." Gilda cringed, a harsh ache pulsing on her forehead. "Whatever her name was, it's her lameness that helped make me lose something."
With a long, deep sigh, Gilda stood up. She closed her eyes shut and folded her wings, then trudged in short circles atop the large rock.
I didn't do anything wrong. It was all her that made us separate. I was being my usual self, but then she became so—weird. It was like she was different. Or maybe she was a changeling. Gilda cringed, her body wobbling a tad before she froze in place and crashed back down onto the boulder's surface. Stupid mare. Why did she stab me in the back? Her heart skipped a beat. The world became a slight blur for a millisecond as a tiny puddle of tears filled her eyes, then cleared up upon rubbing her eyes. I wasn't in the bad at all, right?
A stomping sound entered Gilda's ears, specks of sand taking off and riding the wind. She rose up, eyebrows sagging.
Somepony's coming.
Glancing to her left, Gilda noticed a lone filly meandering across the beach, her head hung low and her purple mane dripping water onto the ground as though it were a raincloud. Biting her lip, the filly's wings buzzed and became an orange blur, but her hooves remained planted to the ground.
"When will Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle get here?" the filly asked herself. "They're fifteen minutes late." She stopped for a moment, her shoulders drooped. Growling like a puppy, the filly kicked a pile of sand to her left, a thunderous thump filling the air as sand leaped off the ground and scattered. She then blinked, rubbing her eyes with one hoof and massaging the one she kicked the sand with against her body.
Gilda shrugged, her eyes rolling like a carousel for a second. What is she doing? Her pupils then dilated, her attention now glued to the filly flailing her forelegs and blinking at a rapid pace. Did she just get sand in her eyes? A soft, brief snicker left her beak, though the back of her mind did wish the pony was unhurt. Still, the scene was odd enough to where it felt like her belly was being tickled.
Gilda crawled toward the scene, not making a peep along the way. Upon reaching the boulder's edge, feeling rather tall from where she was perched, her body froze in place as though she turned into a statue. The filly's mannerisms drew Gilda's eyes toward her as though she willed it. The whole scenario forced her to crack a faint smirk.
The filly ceased flopping about, the water once shrouding her gone from her mane and coat. An awkward silence covered the area, the filly trotting along once more with short steps. Gilda's curiosity piqued while an itch formed in the back of her mind. The sensation wasn't rough like sandpaper, but it begged to be noticed more than the filly's behavior.
Wait a second. Gilda leaned up, then rubbed the back of her neck. That filly looks familiar. Was she the one my former friend told me about before? She rolled onto her back, then sat up as her joints cracked into place. The one who was obsessed with her or something? Groaning, Gilda stood on all fours and trudged back toward the middle of the boulder. Her eyebrows ruffled. Who would be obsessed with her?
The filly glanced behind her, eyes widening and mouth agape upon locking gazes with Gilda. Traversing backwards, she then waved her hoof. Gilda responded with a wave of her own, a sheepish smile painted across her face.
"Hey, I think I know you," the filly said. She skipped toward Gilda, her head raised. "Well, I've heard about you—I guess." A soft chuckle escaped her lips, her cheeks turning into a hot pink. "You know, I don't have much to do right now, so do you want to chat?"
"Sure thing," Gilda said, assuming a straight face. She figured their little discussion wouldn't last long. Nor would anything sensitive show up as far as she knew, as the figure before her was just a filly. Maybe it was what her mind needed to cool off.
"Anyway, I'm Scootaloo."
"Does the name Gilda ring a bell?" A small part of her hoped it did, but Gilda knew she couldn't fault Scootaloo for not knowing her name. Besides, not many were aware of her in the grand scheme of things. "Well, that's me." Gilda walked up to Scootaloo, her tail swirling around like a jump rope. She extended an open talon toward Scootaloo, who reached her hoof out. "Nice to meet you, kid." Gilda grasped Scootaloo's hoof, shaking them once.
Scootaloo cringed, her tongue sticking out. "Can you call me Scootaloo instead?" She shook her head, her face twisting back into a blank expression. "Being called 'kid' sounds so lame."
Gilda chuckled, making sure her tone was soft and not malicious throughout the laugh. Pressing her luck now was out of the question. "Okay, Scootaloo it is." Gilda withdrew her talon, placing it on her cheek as she sat down on the boulder's face once more. "So then, what brings you all the way over here?"
"I wanted to go to the beach, duh," Scootaloo scoffed, pursing her lips as she raised a single eyebrow. She paused, neither one saying a single word as seconds passed by, their eyes pointed at each other. "Is that all you're going to ask?"
Gilda shook her head. "Three things. First, I'm going to ask more things, okay. Second, show a little respect unless you want me to call you kid again."
Scootaloo's cheeks puffed up, her brow raised. "You mean that?"
Grimacing, Gilda nodded. She glared into Scootaloo's eyes, the filly taking a short step back and shrinking. "Of course I do. Anyway, the third thing is that I meant why are you alone?" She raised her talons up, twiddling her claws. "Look, I think I know a few things about you as well, namely, who your idol is."
"She was the one who told me about you." Scootaloo's face turned pale, a bead of sweat trickling down her left cheek. "She also told me that you were—" she gulped, her body shivering as though she were stranded in the arctic. "—never mind. You probably know it."
"More than you do, Scootaloo." Taking a deep breath, Gilda now twiddled her claws at a faster pace. Her muscles tightened, the pressure squeezing them until they were inches away from popping. "I know that I actually never did anything wrong." She sighed. "Look, I'm a bit louder than most. That's just who I am. Not everypony is going to be cool with that, you know?"
Scootaloo bobbed her head, lips sealed.
At least somepony understands. She's not like those dweebs over in that town.
Gilda nudged away from Scootaloo, giving her ample space between them. "Okay, that's just the thing. My friend—er—former friend just thought my attitude now made me the dweeb. She changed since we last met, and that's just what went down." With heavy steps, she crept back toward Scootaloo, the thought of falling through the rock crossing her mind. Raising an eyebrow, Gilda's pupils dilated further as she lowered her head closer to Scootaloo, the latter's face now taut. "You understand, right?"
"O-of course I do!" Scootaloo scuffled an inch back, her vision still locked on Gilda. "Just give me some space, 'cause you're getting a little too aggressive."
"That's—"
Raising her hoof toward Gilda's beak, Scootaloo shook her head. "No, there's more to it than that." She straightened her posture, puffed her chest out as though she were in the military, and scrunched her muzzle. The tough pose touched Gilda's heart a little, the scowl more endearing and cute than nightmarish. "Being aggressive or loud is fine. You're just taking it a little too far."
Gilda cocked her head to the right. "And what is taking it too far?"
"When you're scaring others and making the conversation awkward."
"Oh." Sinking her shoulders, Gilda then lowered her head as a sigh left her. "Sorry about that."
A slight smile formed across Scootaloo's cheeks. "Apology accepted." A twinkle formed in her eyes, making them look more like gemstones in a way. "Say, now it's my turn for a question!"
Scootaloo skipped toward Gilda, her head almost brushing against her upper body. Then again, Gilda knew she wouldn't mind it. Ponies less familiar with griffons who had the privilege of glancing their hooves on her chest usually commented on its soft, fluffy texture. It wasn't the most optimal compliment, but it warmed her heart nonetheless. Compliments were a rarity to her nowadays, though the reasoning as to why they were escaped her mind.
"Thinking of something?" Scootaloo asked.
Gilda shrugged. "That's it? You must have more than just that."
Shaking her head, a giggle left Scootaloo's lips. "Not exactly."
"Okay, I was thinking about something. It was about how you almost placing your head on me reminded me of one of the few compliments I get. That my chest is like a pillow."
"That's it?" Scootaloo extended her foreleg out, poking Gilda's chest. Her eyes widened, mouth agape. "Wow! This is soft!"
Snickering, Gilda cracked a smirk. "Don't get too crazy with it."
"Okay." Scootaloo withdrew her hoof, then stepped back. "Can I ask my real question—er—questions?"
Placing her talons back on the ground, muscles loosening to where they could breathe again, Gilda nodded. "Ask away."
"What's it like to fly?" Scootaloo shuffled her hooves closer to Gilda. "Oh, and what's Griffonia like? I've only read about it in a book, but it sounds so radical!" Bouncing up and down like a pogo stick, her smile widened into a radiant grin. "Please, tell me! I'd love to know!"
Gilda covered her beak, then snickered. Something about Scootaloo's attitude touched her soul, the picture of her as a young griffon appearing before her in a flash, which then became Scootaloo after blinking. "Well, sit still and I'll tell ya. You're more jumping bean than pony, I must say."
Scootaloo gasped, her body still shivering and hopping about. It was as though she could produce energy at will. "Awesome!"
No longer quivering in place, Scootaloo planted her bottom on the boulder. With widening eyes glowing like the sun, she stared at Gilda with an unblinking gaze. Such a stare did tickle the funny bone, with Gilda's smile growing more vibrant with each passing second.
"Well then," Gilda said, raising her talon up. "In regards to flying, it's definitely radical when you first learn how to do it. There's the wind flowing past you, looking down at the tiny world below, and weaving around clouds." Gilda touched her chest, her wings opening up. Exhaling, visions of the bustling Griffon Empire below returned to the top of her mind. Those flickering candles below, the crowded and colorful streets, and the gray mountains and buildings were all vivid in her mind. The belief she could soar up and touch the sun looming above her bubbled inside of her heart again, curiosity of the world beyond poking her mind. "I remember my first flight like it was yesterday. It was amazing."
Scootaloo slid closer to Gilda. "Were you nervous?"
"Totally. When I first tried to do it, I couldn't get off the ground." Gilda groaned, then crossed her arms. "It was so lame. I flapped those little wings so much, but for the longest time I could only fly few inches." Her wings ached, the picture of her hovering an atom's width above the ground painted in her mind. "Well, it wasn't all bad." Gilda's memory scribbled in more young griffons, all buzzing hopelessly before plopping down, then repeating the painful cycle until they all stormed off on the ground. "None of my classmates could do it, so I guess we were all in good company."
"I'm not in good company." Scootaloo sighed. She lowered her head, her brow and shoulders drooping together. Her sagging frown tugged at Gilda's heartstrings as though it was trying to snap them in two. "I get teased a lot because I can't fly."
Gilda gulped, her face taut. "That's—um—not nice." She rubbed the back of her neck, muscles constricting. "Can those ponies fly?"
"They're earth ponies."
Gilda raised an eyebrow, her beak open. "You're serious?"
Nodding, Scootaloo raised her head. "Yeah, it's kind of lame that I can't fly."
"You're not the lame one there. Those earth ponies are." Gilda groaned. "What's the fun of something as cruel and pointless as that?" Grimacing, her cheeks turned red. Something about the scenario Scootaloo brought up boiled her blood. Maybe it was how vile and unimaginative the teasing was. "Look, they may be able to do something you can't one day, but you'll do something they can't do one day as well. Those dweebs don't know a thing about getting under somepony's skin."
Scootaloo shrugged. "And you do?"
"I do." Gilda lowered her head. "Wait. Hold on a second."
Something's not right. Gilda's brain itched, the events leading up to the parting with her former friend replaying in her mind like a broken record. She could recall the timber-framed cottages scattered around the town known as Ponyville, the juicy apple she swiped and nibbled with glee, and the timid mare she frightened until her body turned pale and tears swelled in her eyes. A violent jolt coursed through her veins, eerily similar to the one she actually felt that day.
"Um, Gilda," Scootaloo said, raising her hoof up. "Are you okay?"
Did I actually do nothing wrong that day? Gilda closed her eyes. She took short breaths and forced her body to loosen, a grim expression forming across her twisted face. I mean, Rainbow Dash and I played and joked around like we always did in Junior Speedsters. The only time things ever went south was when we frightened that Misty Fly kid, but that's because our teasing got too loud and rough. She cringed, Misty's bawling and Rainbow's frantic apologies echoing in her mind. But Misty Fly went on to do great things. Same for that yellow pegasus in Ponyville. Fluttershy was her name, right? Gilda stood up. She folded her wings and puffed her chest out, digging her talons into the boulder's surface. I know they're both timid, but did I go too far both times? Did I not even see it?
"Scootaloo, I need you to do me a quick favor," Gilda muttered. "It might be scary."
"Sure thing," Scootaloo replied. She stood up on all fours, stretching her forelegs out. "What is it?"
"I'm going to roar. I need you to promise me that you won't get too frightened and run off."
"Wait, what?" Scootaloo stepped back. A bemused expression formed on her face, eyebrows raised. "Why would I run away?"
"It's going to be totally loud. Can you promise me?"
Scootaloo scrunched her muzzle, then rubbed it. "I promise I'll stay put." Straightening her body out, she raised her head and stood as tall as she could.
"Good. Here goes nothing."
Gilda dug her claws deeper into the stone, the rest of her body not budging. She inhaled until her lungs were filled to the brim with air. The white feathers adorning her chest wiggled a tad, her cheeks puffed up like overinflated balloons. She glanced down at Scootaloo, her posture and face the same as before. Gilda froze, air still stored inside of her. She needed to do this. It was the only way to find the answer she sought. Now was the moment of truth.
Gilda opened her beak, a thunderous roar escaping her beak and echoing in the air. A gust of wind blew before her, Scootaloo's mane and tail fluttering in its direction as her legs wiggled to stay upright. Her lips flapped about, teeth visible, and her pupils dilated until they filled the eye.
With every last ounce of air expelled from Gilda's chest, the roar trailed off into nothingness. Scootaloo's purple mane spiked up, its strands pointing in an array of directions as though lightning struck her. With widened eyes, Scootaloo raised her foreleg up and rubbed her messy mane back into place, then lowered her jaw as an indescribable sound left her mouth.
Gilda rubbed the back of her neck, then cracked a sheepish grin. "I'm sorry, but that's what I used to do." Her cheeks blushed. "That wasn't even my loudest."
"Why would you apologize?" Scootaloo asked, her tone high-pitched. "That was so cool!"
"But was it scary?"
Scootaloo bobbed her head. "Of course it was. You could scare a hydra with that!"
Sighing, Gilda lowered her head, shoulders drooping. "Now I know what I did wrong."
With a raised brow, Scootaloo cocked her head. "Huh?"
"Scootaloo, I look at you and see a little of myself there. You know what I mean, right?"
"I do. What are you getting at?"
Gilda trudged toward Scootaloo. "Have you ever wondered what it means to be cool?"
"I have." Scootaloo nodded once again. "I want to be cool like Rainbow Dash. Do you have tips or something?"
"Yes." Gilda's expression twisted into a deep frown, her heart wrestling control from her brain. "Don't do what I did."
"Okay." Shrugging, Scootaloo then rolled her shoulders, a bemused expression etched on her face. "Care to elaborate?"
With sagging shoulders, Gilda lifted her talons up a little, then took a short step back. Her throat dried up like a desert in the middle of a drought. She dug deeper into the crevices of her mind, only finding plans and phrases anypony could see through. With drooping eyes, Gilda lowered her head. There was no getting out of this one.
"Simply put, I'm a lame bully like those earth pony dweebs you mentioned before," Gilda muttered under her breath. She lowered her legs, placing her body on the boulder's surface once more as needles pierced her heart. Burying her head into her arm, Gilda let out a muffled moan before raising it back up. "I never really thought of it this way, at least until we met."
"I see," Scootaloo said. "So does that mean—you learned something?"
"I have. I messed up too much, and it cost me my one true friend in the end."
Scootaloo shuffled her hooves toward Gilda, placing her head on her chest and wrapping her forelegs around her. The scene playing before Gilda's widening eyes felt more like an illusion, if anything. Being a lone wanderer for so long may have had something to do with it as far as she knew. Whatever it was, it tickled her chest and warmed her from head to toe. She couldn't help but she a few tears, which cascaded down her cheeks like a waterfall and dripped onto the ground.
"Look, whatever happened, I forgive you," Scootaloo said as a matter of fact. She released Gilda from her warm hug. "I think we all make mistakes from time to time."
"Even if this mistake was going on for so long?" Gilda asked in response.
Nodding, Scootaloo flashed a smile. "Yep. Even Rainbow Dash has learned some important lessons you know."
"I see." Gilda glanced toward the ocean once more, the arcing rainbow from before brighter than ever. The dazzling sight shone like a star, Gilda's eyes shimmering with it. "I get it now."
"That's the spirit!"
"Today is the beginning of the new, awesome Gilda." She rose up, standing on two legs and pumping a fist into the air. The weight of the world was lifted off of her shoulders, which cried out in relief and rose up. "No more of that lame, old me!"
Scootaloo bounced in the air. "All right!"
Gilda repositioned herself, now standing on all fours. "Thanks, Scootaloo." With a radiant grin, she turned her head back to the filly. "I couldn't have done this without you."
"No problem, Gilda." Scootaloo smirked, rubbing the back of her neck. "It was nice to talk to you."
"Scootaloo!" a squeaky voice shouted from afar.
Leaping off of the boulder, Scootaloo stomped on the sand, dust flying into the air as her ears twitched. "Those are my friends." She turned to Gilda and waved. "I guess this is goodbye."
"I guess so. Goodbye, Scootaloo." Gilda paused, rubbing her beak as a light bulb flashed in her head. It wasn't likely for her to see her former friend again, after all, but she knew any chance to partly repair a broken bridge would be worth it.
"Oh! One more thing," Gilda said, raising a claw up toward the sky.
Scootaloo glanced back. "What is it?" she asked.
"When you see Rainbow Dash again, tell her that I'm sorry for what I did and that I wish her well."
"Can do!" Nodding, Scootaloo waved once more and galloped across the sand, with Gilda waving back.
While it wouldn't be simple to heal old wounds, perhaps even impossible to repair those damages, Gilda knew her first steps in becoming a new griffon began. Things were looking up for her at long last.
