Marked

Well, we got some trouble.

"Hey chessfeather, didn't anyone tell you griffons don't get cutie marks?"

A red pegasus stallion was leaning against the wall of an alley we'd taken a trip into in search of the fish I smelled.

Probably a stupid idea, but the alley had been well kept, and this is Equestria. I wasn't expecting this.

We stood in a beige stone alley, with one of Ponyville's roads underneath our respective feet. It was well swept, and not ominous at all. It also contained the aforementioned annoyance.

"Hello sir, terribly sorry. Could you let us through? Pretty please with a cherry on top?" I gave him my sweetest smile.

"Not likely," he growled. He threw the fish up in the air-

Silver scales glinted under a midday sun, shining for all to see...

"Get them!"

A manhole cover- how did I not notice that? popped up, and out came ears of a dog, head of a dog, body of a dog...

Not just any dog, but one of those wretched diamond dogs!

I was about to yell for the police, when I realized that I didn't need to. My mouth curled into a grin.

New world, clean slate, new rules.

My rules this time, jerks.

Without warning I spun around and kicked the Ddog in the head. It fell back down, hitting another on its way. Stingray was living up to his name- a bolt of electricity surged from his horn and into the pegasus's wings. The flame red stallion bent and fell to the ground with an audible thump, sending up puffs of dust. Adrenaline pumped through my veins, and I smiled wider than I ever had before.

It might be a griffin thing... I felt like my body was cheering, telling me how... right this felt. I was a predator now.

This was what I was meant to do.

The silver, smooth-scaled fish lay on top of the pegasus's head. I picked it up and sniffed it, salivating at the taste. I slowly peeled off the scales, and drove my beak into the tasty flesh of the fish.

It was wonderful.

I glanced at Stingray. "Hey Sting?"

He grinned that oh-so-smooth-surfer-dude grin of his and called back, "What'cha want, C?"

I raised one eyebrow at his choice of nickname and grinned back, "Pack your bags, Sting, and get out your bits. We're going  back to that diamond dog dig. Mind picking me up a sword? Or..." my mind formulated a plan... "Some knives?"

He picked up some knives, as well as some rope, and a woodcutting axe. The dirt road crunched underneath his hooves regularly, and mine intermittently as I tried to fly. It tool some practice, no, make that a lot of practice, but finally I could manage a short distance. Of course, Sting had to call "We're here!" right as I was getting the hang of it. Of course.

Hmm... a lot of ponies have been talking about whatever's on my flank. Maybe I should check...

Of course. A pawn. Could they have been any more obvious? Seriously? I mean, I suck at chess!

An unexpectedly large surge of anger welled up within me.

How dare they? How dare they? I am not some pawn in some silly game! I am Claire! I am a griffin, not a chess piece! I will rise above being a mere pawn! I WILL NOT ALLOW SOME SILLY TATOO ON MY FLANK DECIDE MY DESTINY! I AM NOT A PAWN! I AM CLAIRE!

I hissed with unexpected fury and defiance and leapt down the Ddog hole, hoping to take out my frustration upon an unsuspecting mutt.

"Claire? Claire!"