Claw, Hoof, and Feather

Claw, Hoof, and Feather

Test and Fail

“Next comes the funny part,” Cobbler spoke out, having heard much of this tale beforehand, with a grin.  “Birdie’s a failure at flying.”

The hippogryph sent the blue unicorn a flat, harsh look, flexing a claw as the pegasi and griffins let out weak chuckles around him, before pausing.  “… You know what?”  He lowered the limb back to the stone floor, his talons clicking against the hard surface.  “Screw it.”  After a shake of his head, the viridian avian-equine turned to look at the other slaves, tapping the stone floor with a click-clack-click-clack as he remembered his… trial run.

Well, since Cobbler had brought it up...  "Indeed.  I'm... an epic failure..."

--

How in the world did birds make this look so damn easy?!

That was a question I asked myself in frustration after my twenty-first failed take off from the ground into the air.  I didn’t know what or how, but I kept doing something wrong!  I flapped wings too fast like a bug, I jumped too soon, I flapped too slow and jumped, or didn’t have those positioned just right, and so on.  My crashes… well, I feel it’s a miracle I didn’t break a few bones.

The first time, I didn’t actually crash; however, I did have to bring myself to a stop.  The other times… tree, rock, dirt, same tree, different tree, talons got stuck in a third tree, beak in the dirt, etc.  It was a mess…

Stop laughing!  You try waking up in a body with extra appendages you’re not used to!  This was not easy!

I swear I think Discord himself was spying on me, or something along those lines, because after my fifth crash, I could hear that damn voice chuckling at my failures.

Oh, but I didn’t dare try to verbally curse out the spirit of chaos, just in case he really was around.  I was frustrated, not a suicidal fool.  Nope, just kept the fury to myself and bottled it up, like I usually do.

After attempt twenty-seven, I decided to finally stop, just walk it out, and look for a meal.  This… was bad.  I was a winged creature with no knowledge of how to fly.  I was essentially Equestria’s equivalent to an ostrich!  A bucking ostrich!

My thoughts continued to dwell on that plight as I scanned for my meal.  How was I going to survive, I wondered, if I couldn’t hunt properly?  I was part bird of prey, wasn’t I?  I was supposed to look down upon my unsuspecting victim, dive, and start tearing into its hide with my claws and savoring the coppery taste of blood and raw meat on my tongue.

… Wow, that was probably natural for what I was now, but coming from me, a guy whom prided himself on being “humane”, that was… pretty dark.  I shuddered in disgust with myself as I kept walking, resolving to make my first kill painless for the victim animal, or at least trying to.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.  My eyes spotted a certain something a few yards away.  It was a simple rabbit, brown in color with a white tail, eating all alone by the trunk of a relatively thin tree.

I slowed my walk and lowered my belly to the ground, hiding in a patch of tall green grass like I had seen my old cat do when he had been hunting.  Considering my hindquarters were that of a pony, not a cat of any sort, it was pretty uncomfortable.

I decided to wait it out, all the same, never tearing my gaze away from the rodent.  All the little fur ball had to do was turn away, and an early-morning snack would be mine.

It turned at last, and I leaped, letting out a wild screech as I came down upon the rabbit…

"WRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!"

It didn’t taste like I thought I would, and the texture felt like… dirt… and grass…  I then blinked in realization of just was wrong.  'Wait a bucking minute!'

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” I spoke with my mouth of earth, so it came out more muffled.

I looked up and sure enough, the rabbit was dashing away from me, that white tail it had seeming to mock me.  With an annoyed chirp, I spat out the dirt, mud, and grass, and then I gave chase.  Looks like I would have to run for my meal.

I hated running.  I hated it so very much.  I wasn’t mad with hunger or anything so cliché, don’t get me wrong.  In truth, I was extremely lazy before being sent to Equestria, one of those jerks who would sit around all day after a meal, just watching what we called TV or reading a good book.  “Conserving energy”, you know?

… Okay, from how I’m describing myself in this, you wouldn’t get that impression, would you?  I wouldn’t either if I was in your place, but common sense won me over that day.  I could no longer afford to be such a couch potato.  Equestria was a foreign location to me, show or no show, and if I was to survive, I had to force myself into action.

In less “eloquent” words: I just wanted a quick breakfast, damn it!

...  Well, I hadn’t meant for the “quick” part to be so literal.  Damn rodent.

My hooves and claws tore into the soft soil  of the forest floor as I dashed after the rabbit.  While I was used to walking on all fours, running was an entirely different story.  A couple of times I even stumbled, causing the gap between me and little morsel to widen even more.

But soon enough, I began to get into the groove of galloping, and I also began to realize an advantage of my new body.

I was lazy, dare a say a bit overweight in the past, but that damned spirit of chaos had crafted my new body to what I hoped and assumed was the standard in-shape build of a hippogryph.  I was fast, and I had not given out in exhaustion yet!

Paranoia deemed for me to be suspicious of this, but buck it, I couldn’t care less now!  Breakfast!  Was!  MINE!!

I pounced, and in a manner I cannot describe due to children being present, I devoured the rabbit for what little meat it had, leaving only the bones.

Still, after doing so, I noted the peculiar aftertaste on my tongue.  It was gamey, yet foul.  I hadn’t taken the time to savor any flavor the poor rabbit had, you see.  I was too excited at finally catching it.

It was only ten minutes later, estimated, not second for second, as I was walking, that I began to feel the stomach pains set in.  I only winced, at first, thinking it would pass, but as time wore on, as I walked further through the forest, the pain in my belly only grew, and a wince gradually became an expression of misery.

Finally, after what I thought was a grand total of thirty minutes after my meal, my stomach gave out… and I had to let go of my breakfast… all over the ground.

It hurt.

No, scratch that, it was agony!  My stomach felt like it was on fire, and after I had vomited up my meal, I began writhing, struggling to stay standing after my stomach had nearly pumped itself empty.

Upon looking back down and seeing the not-so-digested remains of that poor rabbit, I resumed vomiting.

After I had finally stopped, I turned away and resumed walking through the jungle, on the hunt for a meal again.  If anything can be said of what had just happened, I was able to put two and two together and figure out “Why?” of my stomach issues.  Really, it made sense when I thought about it.  He was still part pony in body, even with the bird-like features.  My stomach couldn’t handle meat.

Hippogryphs may have the beaks of birds of prey, but they’re actually…

--

“Herbivores,” was the single word that greeted Birdie as he was about to say it, spoken by some of the fellow slaves around him at once.

“Yeah,” that blue unicorn spoke, “hippogryph diets aren’t really new to us, Birdie.  You don’t need to go into detail on that.”

The hippogryph palmed his beak.  “I should have known that was common knowledge.”  His lemon yellow eyes went up to the blue unicorn again.  “So, may I continue, everyone, Cobbler?”  He received nods in return.  “Now, a while after that incident, I—“

“Hey!” a gravely, high-pitched voice interrupted before Birdie could resume the story, drawing attention toward the entrance of the cramped living space of the slaves.  “Rest is over!  Time to work!”  It was one of the larger, armor-clad Diamond Dogs, one whom looked like a Tibetan Mastiff.  He was big and fluffy, black and brown, and he was likely to have a set of jaws like a bear trap.

Birdie would always inwardly call this guard “Max”.  The way he carried himself –along with him being a Tibetan Mastiff—reminded him of that early nineties semi-horror film.

The hippogryph kind of regretted starting his tale, being unable to keep his beak shut.  If he hadn’t gone into his story, then everyone could have been resting instead of listening to him ramble.  Lord knew they all needed it to avoid collapsing in the middle of work and suffering punishment.

Everyone, Birdie included, let out groans, but with no other alternative to their plight, they all stood up and exited their living quarters, heading through the stone and dirt tunnels and each standing in a line to let the strong Diamond Dogs strap them into their slave and digging gear.

Birdie, in particular, ended up equipped with a special set of claw coverings, crafted out of diamond for the purpose of carving into stone, yet unicorn-enchanted –Birdie did not want to know what sick-minded unicorn decided to assist Diamond Dogs with slavery—to never allow the piercing of flesh.  Then, to prevent him from biting, the Dogs strapped an uncomfortably tight leather muzzle onto his beak, keeping it closed.  Finally, those canines checked the harness that kept Birdie’s wings folded against his body, and then they dragged him off to his assigned position in the tunnels.

“No slacking, Bird-Pony,” the one he had dubbed “Max” commanded of the green hippogryph, threateningly holding up a whip made of chain links.

With nothing else to do and under penalty of being whipped or hit by one of the guards for “laziness”, Birdie set to work on the wall, carving into it with the special coverings.  A harsh sound, like a lower-pitched ‘nails-on-chalkboard’ effect, began to echo throughout the tunnels, followed by many similar sounds of different pitches as every slave began to dig for the precious gems.

On and on he dug into the cavern wall, scraping and shoveling, putting any gems he found into a nearby cart quickly before he resumed his forced duties.

Then a voice Birdie hated, within reason, sounded out... within his head.

“This is boring.”

Birdie narrowed his eyes, deciding to not give that voice a response.

“Where’s the chaos, the rebellion?”

Just hold it in, don’t give it satisfaction.

“Come on, lazy bird,” that accursed voice went on, a smirk envisioned in the green hippogryph’s mind.  “Entertain me.”

‘Shut up,’ he answered in his head toward the owner of the voice, caving in.  ‘Leave me alone.’

“He responds at last!” was the mocking response.  “All silliness aside, do you really intend to remain a slave, my little camera?”

Yep, the hippogryph was being trolled in some manner.  ‘What does it matter to you?’ Birdie shot back. ‘You’re why I’m here in the first place!’

“You’re in the land of ‘sunshine and daisies’ because of me,” Discord responded through their link, “perhaps.  But that’s all I did, bird-brain.  You are the one who never fights or struggles, finding it easier to just take all the abuse.  Ironic, given your old life, is it not?”  A chuckle followed.

‘Again, why does it matter what a lowly mortal does with his life?’

“Your life itself is of no concern,” the draconequus went on, “but I, on the other claw, am trapped in a statue and have to choose either looking at walls of the royal hedge maze or gazing through your eyes.  Quite frankly, I think the maze more entertaining at this point.”

‘Then go look at the walls!’ Birdie responded.  ‘I’m not your toy!’

“Oh, but you are my toy, my little hippogryph.”  With that, Discord’s voice seemed to depart from Birdie’s mind with an insidious chortle.  “You are definitely my toy…”

Birdie let out an annoyed huff, unable to sigh because of the muzzle.  He knew that Discord, as much as he loathed the chaotic spirit, had a point, that he shouldn’t just sit around where he was and actually try to do something… but Birdie didn’t see the point if the odds were out of his favor.

Why try something that was likely to only lead him and others to death and only had a very slim chance of working?  Why take that chance?

“Why not?”

‘Damn it, you bucking dragon-pony-thing!’

Still, it was a thought provoking question.  “Why not?”, indeed.

SMACK!

Birdie let out a squawk of pain, feeling the chains of the whip bite his backside, right above his poofy dark-green tail.  Damn, he must have nodded off and slowed down!

“I said no slacking!” “Max” spoke out gruffly.

He nodded quickly and picked the pace back up.  The more he worked, the less he was whipped.  Still, he could hear the cracks of whips and the screams of slaves all around him.  The worst part?

He had grown far too used to those sounds.

--

Author’s Note:  So, yeah… I see those pointers heading for the thumbs-down buttons and cries of "Mary-Sue Crap!" on the way, but I'm not wanting to make Birdie into a Mary-Sue or overpowered character for the setting.  Birdie is dull and is a scaredy-cat.  That’s about it, but part of the goal of setting him apart from other CGotG protagonists.  Every Chess Game story has a character coping with their situation in some way, and that’s what Birdie’s trying to do… but he’s not really coping, is he?  He’s internally running from his problems by just allowing them to happen and being too afraid of bigger negative consequences to do a thing about them.  He’s an over-analytical wimp, when the chips are down, but that has room to change..

What's worse, I'm worried I made Discord out-of character.  Oh, I so hope I didn't!

I tried to avoid making it so generic again while avoiding some clichés, aside from the obvious HiE plot, but… I can see this chapter oozes with plainness.  Sorry.  One could say I ‘failed’ to live up to great expectations.  Also, I apologize if changing perspective between 'past' and 'present' confuses anyone.

Please, you know the drill, read and review, giving constructive criticism to help me make this NOT suck.