With dried lips and a dull ache in the back of my skull, I'm brought out of my surprise nap by a noise in the alleyway I had fallen into. Using my elbows to prop myself up, I squint in pain as I look around with blurred vision for the source of the noise. In a daze, I turn my head to the side and see a rat pop out from inside some black bags of waste, dumped into the alleyway.

For a moment, the rat looks at me whilst standing on hind legs, before scurrying into the waste and out of sight. Shifting around on the boxes that cushioned by fall, I shakily stand. Rubbing my hand on the back of my head, I find the palm used void of any blood. Sighing in relief, I brace myself against a wall as my stomach grumbles loudly, making me hold my stomach as it aches.

All this running and fighting would be fine, had I been getting regular meals. But the adrenaline that's been consistently pumping through my blood must have dulled the pain of hunger, leaving my body drained and aching. And with an ache in my arms, I have no doubts that I've gone and pulled a few muscles.

Looking up beyond the outcroppings of roofs, I see the pale blue sky of the day has returned. And with the sun more-or-less centred in the sky, I can tell that I'd been asleep for a few hours. It's already midday, and no one found me? The incompetence is astounding, but welcome.

It's like they don't deal with this often. I hope that's the case.

Coming back to reality, I push myself off the wall and start walking. I don't know how to get there, but I know I came for the ships docked in the harbour. With any luck, there is where I'll find my ticket out of this nightmare. The smell of damp bricks is suddenly overwhelmed by the sweet smell of cooked food down the alley.

Curious, I let my nose lead me to an open window of some small bakery. I hear the shouting of orders being placed from within, and I duck down beneath the window. With a thud from above, I slide out and see a pie had been deposited in the open window. Standing up, I see that whoever had left the pie had also left the room.

I immediately reach my hands out to grab it, but stop. Isn't this stealing? My arms go slightly limp, as I watch through the window, listening to the sounds in the next room. My stomach rumbles in protest, but I do not cease my contemplation.

I've killed these creatures outright, why should I care? But these were just normal working ponies, right? I'd fought against guards who had no thought other than my death, murder motivated through greed, but never have I harmed, even indirectly, these noncombatants.

I go to leave, but a sudden shout from within the establishment makes me stop.

"Good day, officer! Would you like the cherry pie I just made? Guard's discount, of course!" Shouts a mare from within, the female voice distinct.

I immediately swipe the pie and bail.

Half an hour of walking aimlessly through shadowed alleys, and the pie has finally vanished into my stomach. Licking my lips of the cherry filling, I wipe my hands on my jeans whilst scanning for some sign to at least show directions to the harbour.

After another corner, I spot a wooden signpost erected in the street. Strolling over, I read the arrow-shaped wood pointing down another corner, with the words "Harbour" scratched into the wood plank itself. Shrugging my shoulders, I turn my body and head down the directed alley.

It isn't long before I find myself before a harbour. From a vantage point above the harbour, I scan my eyes down across the many wooden vessels left bobbing in the short waves, crates being loaded and unloaded. Through the scurry of activity, my eyes find a loud dispute.

Now, I've grown accustomed to the garish colours of pony fur, so seeing them no longer surprises me. If anything, I just feel a strange unease at their sight. But down from my perch, I see three griffins yelling incoherently to some guards. Their gold armour is unmissable under the unrelenting sunlight, shining a deep amber.

Seeing as this is my first time seeing a real, living griffin, I am understandably curious. Looking to my side, I see a set of stone steps leading down from the vantage point to another outcropping, with another set of steps to the ships. Thinking the second vantage point would be closer, making it easier to listen, I head down only the first set of stairs.

Now, I can definitely hear their debate.

"I'm sorry, but you will have to board your ship and leave the harbour." Repeats a guard, hints of annoyance beneath that stoic facade they're known for. A griffin, wearing a thick fur jacket over their grey fur with a black captain's hat on her skull, scowls in the face of the guard.

"Why don't you ask that pony ship to make way?" She, in a distinctly female voice, responds in a growl, gesturing to a large delivery vessel. The guard doesn't even look that concerned by her fury.

"They've only just arrived, and need more time to unload. You're almost done." He responds flatly, staring her down. "We've got a cruise ship of our citizens coming back to the harbour, and your ship is taking up the room that boat needs." He finishes gesturing to, what I assume, is the griffins' boat.

"No way is that pony boat not started unloading, their putting boxes back in!" She shouts, furiously jabbing a talon at the boat's crew loading it up with new boxes. The guard shakes himself from being startled, now glaring at the griffin.

"You have an hour, captain, to leave the dock." He says, turning to the guards on either side of him that nod in unison. Then, they turn and walk off whist discussing some other discretion in the dock.

The griffins start grumbling to each other, and the captain walks off with them to the crew waiting with their crates. The captain relays the debate, leaving the crew angrily snorting and grabbing the boxes with more force than necessary. One by one they start hauling up the wooden containers via a crane, where another griffin grabs the crates and deposits them through a hatch on the deck and into the bowels of the wood vessel.

I watch thoughtfully as the mythological beasts work away at their task. A plan comes to mind, and I hurry to execute it. As I walk down the final set of steps, making sure to move as quietly as possible, anxious by how exposed this leaves me. I finally get onto the stone floor of the harbour, walking over the wet rocks towards a crate missing its lid. If I can only squeeze inside, I can get put inside their ship and be on my way out of this place.

I grab onto the edge of the box, readying myself to squeeze into the container before a firm grip lands on my shoulder. Startled I go to turn but the grip holds me as I'm dragged away. Before I can even swing my fists, I'm dropped to the ground in a more shadowed are of the dock.

"Captain!" I hear the voice over my shoulder shout, making me cringe. I face forwards and see the black hat atop a curious-looking griffin, staring down and scanning me with purple eyes.

"What have you grabbed?" She asks with a tilt of her furred head. The griffin tries to shake me up and down, but my weight is too heavy and so they just shuffle my kneeling form around in their grip.

"The prisoner that the guards are looking for! The one with the bounty!" He shouts excitedly, if the deep voice is proof of their gender. The captain's eyes turn to the crew member and squint.

"You think they'd actually give griffins that many bits?" She asks with a hint of sarcasm in her tone, making the crew member seem a little regretful for dragging me over. I shake off the talon from my shoulder and stand up.

Shaking slightly at being around things with pointed beaks and sharp talons (and without an axe), I watch the captain look at me thoughtfully, head tilted and eyes scanning me up and down. Her features seem to darken as her beak twists to a malicious smirk, making sweat drip down my forehead as I pale.

"Take him into the ship. Don't let any of the guards see you." She says, turning around and walking off to direct more of the crew. I turn to the griffin at my side, their white chest tuft contrasting with their brown fur and feathers. With blue eyes, he gestures towards an open crate.

I watch as the griffin scoops out the contents, a few metal helmets, and deposits them into another crate before gesturing with an open talon at the vacant container. When he sees my apprehensive expression, he grunts in annoyance.

"You seemed pretty fine jumping into one of these boxes when I found you." He growls, gesturing to the box more firmly. I grumble as I fold my legs and arms as I squeeze into the box, hearing my own breaths as the box is closed on top.

If the minutes of shaking and now gentle rocking are anything to go by, I'll assume I'm finally in the cargo hold of this ship. I hear shouts for a bit, and then the ship starts to move steadily. The shaking makes me slightly sick, but I refuse to throw up in such a tight space. The sounds of gentle waves lapping against the hull echoes through the cargo hold, giving me hope that I may have finally gotten out of that country.

But the sounds of paws and talons on wooden floor greets my ears louder than the waves, and the crate begins to ascend up some stairs roughly until I'm tipped out of the crate and onto the deck. Rubbing the back of my head, I scowl at the crew member who packed me and stand up.

I immediately tense up, surrounded by at least a dozen griffins. They at least don't look aggressive, scanning me up and down with blatant curiosity. But my fists still clench by my sides, ready to at least swing at them if I get attacked. The captain comes to my side, wrapping an arm around my shoulder that startles me.

"This is that prisoner the guards were making a fuss over!" She shouts to the confused crew, but her grin at them wavers as she notices their confusion only grow.

"Why didn't we give it in for the bounty!?" Shouts a curious voice from the back of the crowd, making my fists clench harder. I can't trust these things not to give me back.

"Because, you feather-brain, those jerks wouldn't give us a single bit of that bounty!" She yells, the crew shouting out against the guards' treatment. Even if they didn't understand the story behind the bounty, they knew enough about ponies to know they wouldn't give the payment willingly.

"So why are we taking him again?" Asks the sailor that packed me into the crate, turning to the captain at my side. She only grins at him and then the crowd.

"Because... now they'll never get him! None of those damned guards will touch the bounty now!" She laughs, the crowd laughing along to their captain at the ponies' misfortune, with me left shuffling my feet awkwardly at all the attention.

I shake off the leg from my shoulder, scowling at the captain. She only looks surprised by the action, blinking a few times before tilting her head. I've had enough with being a pawn in these cat-birds' game.

"And where are you taking me?" I ask flatly, fists still clenched and ready. She smirks, although less malicious than I anticipated.

"To griffin lands." She answers quietly. "The bounty isn't in effect there." She finishes, looking back at her crew as I cross my arms.

She then walks off, clawed talons "clicking" against the wooden floor as she directs the crew to start sailing. They all grumble as they go back to their tasks, some disappearing under the deck to sort crates. Left alone on board the ship, I can at least guess they don't expect me to be a problem.

Looking at myself, I can see why a mythological killing machine wouldn't suspect a thing. Without an axe in my hand, I'm defenceless and my hands would be no match to their claws.

Looking into the sky as some gulls came to circle the ship, I can only give silent thanks that I finally managed to get out of the nightmare that had entrapped me for over a month.

The inside of the captain's office was warmly lit against the night beyond the glass panes, lining one of its walls. A thick mahogany desk sat at the far end of the room, opposite to the wooden door reinforced by steel. A red carpet lines the floor, obscuring most of the wood below.

Sitting in her tall chair behind the desk, the captain lets her hat sit on top of the wooden desk before her. Beside her hat sits an open bag, the size of a man's head and made of a dark leather. Through the open top, hundreds of glistening gold coins sit whilst reflecting the candle light from the chandelier hanging from the ceiling. On the floor, sat against the wall, sits four more bulging bags but with their tops sealed shut with white string.

Staring ahead of her, the captain's eyes turned upwards slightly, she watches with hidden caution. She finally finds her voice, but nerves still cause her feathers to rustle and fur to stick out.

"How did you know the prisoner would be at the harbour?" She asks quietly, voice barely a whisper. But despite the low volume, the listener hears her clearly. After a moment of quiet, the one sharing her quarters answers her question.

"Just a hunch." The deep, raspy voice croaks out. Their pale hand turns over one of the golden bits from the bag, looking down with two pale dots within their dark cloak.

The captain sighs at their lack of detail, looking out of the window at the full moon hanging in the sky. When she finally turns back to the figure, she finds him staring straight at her. She jumps in her seat, heart thumping in surprise. The figure doesn't even move, bit still in hand.

"Why did this-" She gestures an open talon at the bag on the desk and pile against the wall. "-have to be so much more than that stupid bounty?" She asks finally, looking back from the pile and into the shadow cast by the figure's hood.

"Just to insure that our deal would be more profitable." He says flatly, the captain still nervously hunched in her chair. Every instinct inside her mind telling her to fly out the window. But looking at the figure's relaxed stance and slow movement makes the captain feel at ease slightly, despite the creepy look he has. He obviously wouldn't have gone through what he has to then kill her randomly.

Seemingly finished with their coin inspection, the figure hovers their clenched fist over the open bag of bits. With fluid motion, their fingers part and allow the golden circle to flip around in the air in its free-fall. As the captain watches the coin slither across the rest of the bits in its landing, she listens to the sound of rustling as the coins settle once more.

Looking up from the bag, she finds her office empty of the figure. She stands from her chair, looking this way and that, but cannot spot the elusive being. Sighing in relief, she slides back into her chair as her eyes feel drawn to the bag. The coin that the figure dropped continues to slither down, until she notices how the coin's surface contrasts to the rest.

Of course, bits weren't solid gold. They just had a gold plating on a copper body. She'd seen bits that were minted long ago, with their copper showing through with its slightly green patina.

Why was this one so rusted and dirty, to the point where no gold showed through?

Author's Note

This chapter took way longer than it needed to write. I need to stop being so lazy before I lose readers.

Thanks for reading!