Claw, Hoof, and Feather

Claw, Hoof, and Feather

Encountering Chaos

They call me Birdie.

I have no recollection of my old name, but those I serve choose to call me the "Pony-Bird", and my fellows in the mines call me "Birdie".  I know how silly the name sounds, but it isn't an insult.  Really, it's the only bit of present-day identity I have, now.  Don't get me wrong, I can remember some things about my old life, about what I once was, but the details persist to escape me. I have no real name, no faces to go on, no recollection of whether I was only child or if I was one of many. I just have enough personal memories to have a sense of identity, my instincts and my old education to drive me, and my fear of death keeping me complacent in my current setting.

Let me be clear on something… I am no hero who can rouse others with an inspiring speech, some creature with super abilities, to my knowledge, or a Messiah.  I am a pawn, a simple slave, a worker so that I may live another day on the few scraps I am given.

Equestria truly is a wonderful place… if you are either a pony or one of a select few griffins and zebras, that is. The rest of us –I've been here so long that I consider myself "part of the herd"- are not so fortunate. As it turns out, Equestria is one of many countries, not a planet as I had originally thought. The land of Equestria was a utopia for ponies and relatively friendly to outsiders, depending on location, but outside the borders, we live in misery.

I am Birdie.  I was once human, but no longer.

I will tell you how I came to be here, a slave to the Diamond Dogs.

--

The details of exactly how I got to the land of ponies could not be anymore cliché if I tried. Go on, just guess what happened. Guess! No, better, I'll give you a not-so-detailed checklist.

The meeting takes place in a public setting with no one looking at the two oddballs talking about ponies in public? Check.

An odd-looking man with a brown buzz cut and a white goatee in clothing that must have been intentionally mismatched walks to me and starts a conversation about those very ponies, which I participate in? Check.

The offer to go to Equestria comes up? Check.

My answer to the man was a simple and resounding “No”, followed by an explanation of why I gave said answer, presenting an attempt at logic and my obvious skepticism of the proposal.  It just wasn't possible, and even if I could, why would I?  My life was decent.  Don’t get me wrong, I like the show and even found it better than a majority of the things I’ve seen on TV, but I didn’t think it was the best thing out there.  Even I had my limits toward the cuteness of it all.

Anyway, to get back on topic, the odd man responded with something I had not expected, something that, for all I’ve read in fan-fictions, was usually never written or typed up.

He had smirked, told me "Too bad!", and then he kicked me from under the table, straight between the legs.  With a bright flash of light, I had blacked out, whether from the pain of the kick or the magic involved I cannot be sure.

One thing was sure, though.  I woke up in your classic, run-of-the-mill forest, sore and ticked off!

When my mind caught up to the fact that I was now in Equestria, away from my friends and family, I lost it.  I had raged, I had bucked, I had screeched out to the heavens in fury!  Now, my own odd, feral behavior had failed to catch up with me at the time, as did that fact that I was walking on all fours, sounded like a bird, and couldn’t feel my toes.

Chilling laughter broke me out of my rage, quickly simmering it down as my eyes went wide.  The gears began turning in my head as that rage gave way to chilling dread and fear.

I was brought here in a flash of white light.

The guy whom sent me here intentionally dressed in mismatched clothes.

That same guy had a brown buzz cut and a white goatee.

Who else in the lore of Friendship is Magic shared those traits, exactly?

…

… Processing…

…

… Processed.

… Panic now, curse at self for stupidity later.

“FFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUU-!!!”

The next thing I knew, a zipper had formed upon my mouth, sealing it shut as that chilling laughter became an amused chuckle.  “Oh, such language,” the Spirit of Chaos spoke with a tone of purest, vilest charisma as he flowed into existence right in front of me, waving a digit from his lion paw in a “naughty naughty” gesture.

You know those drawings of a “realistic” version of Discord that are around?  Yeah, they were very close to the mark, even with the spirit of chaos still having that overall cartoonish look.  He was absolutely terrifying, grinning at me with teeth that looked like a jigsaw puzzle of fangs and flats!

I gulped as well as I could, given that my mouth was literally zipped shut by a playful spirit who could probably just as easily erase me from existence as he had brought me here in the first place.  With my new limbs, I quickly tried backing away from the amalgam of assorted creatures.

Apparently, Discord wasn’t going to let me go.  He snapped his fingers, and with that, a large, cubic mass I would look down at to identify as jello had engulfed all but my head.

“Tut, tut, tut,” Discord closed his eyes and mockingly shook his head.  “No need to run.”  That pseudo-frown soon reverses itself into a true smirk.  “Think of this as a game.”

I could only watch as he slithered through the air and to my side.  “Oh, you won’t be as much fun as the others, but…”  I saw and felt a talon from his eagle claw press to my forehead.  “You can be my ‘anchor’.  Otherwise, the fun will end if,” he chuckled dismissively, clearly finding whatever he was about to go on about funny, “what happens in that show does indeed happen to me, and I can’t have that, unlikely or not.”  He chuckled with mirth.  “That aside, let’s just say we’ll be in touch.”

With that, shocking pain shot through my body as I felt Discord invade it with his twisted magic.

Once again, I ended up blacking out.

--

“Wait, wait, back up,” a large blue unicorn stallion with a dark mane spoke out, halting the tale, “You expect us to believe that Discord, THE Discord, brought you here from some alternate world as some ‘game’ for his entertainment, and then he cast some odd spell on you?  Do… do you have any idea how insane and stupid that sounds, Birdie?!”

The named storyteller stared at the unicorn, and then he looked to the others around him, Ponies, weaker Diamond Dogs, and Griffons alike.  Then, in the face of all those flat and disbelieving looks… he cackled, laughing as he leaned back against the stone wall of their dark and dank living quarters.

"It sounds very stupid and extremely insane," the eagle-headed quadruped responded to the question, sitting back on his rump. "But then again, it's Discord. Some suspension of disbelief is needed, Cobbler." His grin became a frown as those around him did appear to think about how, in this case, making no sense was the only sensible thing as far as Discord was concerned, and then Birdie sighed. "Besides, I think my presence was just an afterthought on his part..."

"… An afterthought?"

"Well, I think that NOW," Birdie went on. "I mean... he did tell me himself that he wouldn't get much entertainment from me, but he could have just as easily lied.”

Cobbler just responded to the statement with a flat stare, before sighing.  “Fine.  Continue your story.”

The beak curved into a smile as Birdie nodded his head.  “Thanks.”

--

When I awoke once again, I was, for all intent and purpose, completely alone, bathed in the light of a setting sun.  I waited for what I estimate to be five minutes before I even dared to try getting up and moving.  After all, Discord could have been anywhere.

Still, feeling as secure as I could under the given circumstances, I went on to give myself the standard “new world physical examination”.  With the dark-brown feathers –with a slight green tinge, I noticed- and the eagle claws, I had initially believed myself to be a griffin, a predator.  It didn’t seem so bad, so what had been the big deal?

Then I had looked further south… to see the pastel green rump of a horse, or rather, a pony, without a Cutie Mark –thank goodness, ‘cause I didn’t want to feel branded—and with hairs that greatly resembled moth antennae, like feathers and tail hair had blended into one.  The fluff made me think of a certain pink pony.

I wasn’t a griffon… but… I think I was a hippogryph.  What is a hippogryph?  It’s the supposed result of a mare and a male griffin getting together, at least according to some sources.  Other sources, like J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series, seemed to identify them as a separate species entirely.  I didn’t dwell too far on it.

Still, I wasn’t willing to believe what I was seeing –stupid me, right?—until after I plucked a feather from my head, just out of curiosity.  I felt my ears –I had pony ears!—flick as I winced from the loss of the feather, which turned out of be a vibrant green hue, much like my hindquarters.

So, I was, physically, a blend of some green pony and a bald eagle…  I was torn between thinking this was awesome, wanting to scream out in panic because this wasn’t MY body, and…

Wait… what did I used to look like, anyway?  I… I couldn’t remember…

Realization about my lack of specific memory dawned on me… and hung my head in my following sorrow, letting it set in that, as much as I wanted to cry, to rage, to curl up into a ball and die because I was now separated from my family… I couldn’t care.  I wanted to care, but Discord… had done something to me.  The memories were THERE, yes, but… there were no names, no faces, and no connections, and everything seemed so… muted.  The only things I could recall the names and faces of were from shows I watched and the manga I used to read.  JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, Dragon Ball, Transformers, Friendship is Magic, Foster’s, and many more were all available in my mind... but those were all -aside from Friendship is Magic, apparently- fiction.

Discord, you are a truly evil, trolling bastard.

“Heheheheheh…”

Wait, was that… him?  I looked around quickly, but saw no sign of the lord of all things chaotic.  I gulped.  Hopefully I imagined it.

Hopefully.

With a sigh and a click of my new beak, I decided to get to work on becoming used to my four-legged body.  I’ve read stories in which it was always ridiculously difficult, but I recalled crawling on all fours as a kid just for fun, so I wasn’t too concerned…  The new tail and wings, however, DID concern me.  Sure, the tail kept my balance, but I wasn’t used to having one…  It was like having a tiny, stubby arm coming out just above my backside, and the hairs were all fuzzy wires.  Just… ugh.

The wings looked cool, but could I even bring myself to use them?  I usually wasn’t good with heights.

Slowly, I unfolded my dark, green-tipped wings to get a good look… and promptly gasped.  I had half-expected to have just plain old Pegasus wings, but these were, indeed, still the wide wings of a predatory bird, and they actually looked like they could physically keep my body aloft in the air without magical assistance.

Some foolish, immature part of me temporarily forgot my plight, forgot that I no longer had a name to call my own, that this body was foreign to me, that I was going to likely have a very tough time, and finally, that I was scared of extreme heights.

Then I verbalized my thoughts in a single word.

“Awesome.”

It was time to get in some practice.