Gilda sunk her claws into deep desert sand, the blazing heat of the grains burning her raw claws. Blood and deep scratches riddled the pads of her claws, her talons broken beyond belief from the long trek the creature had sent herself on. Was she trying to kill herself, rid the world of her presense? Perhaps. It wasn't as if the griffon had much to live for in the first place, and being publicly turned down by a mare you though to be your girlfriend or, at the very least, a friend with benefits, didn't exactly fuel her need to live.
It was subconcious suicide.
Hours had been spent wandering in the godforsaken land, yet to her avail, no civilization was in sight. Nothing so much as a ghost town could be seen for miles around, and at least an abandoned building would provide temporary comfort from the sun. How did one survive under these conditions? Glida did not know how the natives of the land could of done it, yet she assumed the natives also weren't wearing a pelt of glossy brown fur. That is, if there were any natives left. She had often heard of buffalo making trips around here to make it to the grasslands, yet there were no such lands in her sight. Oh, she had tried to fly up into the air to do a quick scan of the sky, determine which way had life and which way to go. Make no doubt, she tried. The sun had forced her wings out of the sky, the pure fire that dwelled within the air scorching them and forcing their unfortunate closesure. She certainly wasn't in Ponyville any more, and she scoffed at the mention of the town's name. She wan't to be as far away from that damned place as humanly possible. She was even willing to sell her soul to Hell to get far away from the town, for thousands of feet underground seemed truely the farthest the griffon could get away from the place, and with it, that mare named Rainbow Dash. It wasn't as if Heaven was going to accept her at this point, were they?
Vultures buzzed up ahead, singing a mournful song of pain, death, and lunch. She must of looked like the ideal meal from up above the clouds; Gilda herself even entertained thoughts of swooping down on a fresh young rabbit when she flew in the skies way back when. It was her instinct as a hunter, and the fantastic adernline of the hunt was a feeling she and the vultures both shared. It didn't mean she appreciated these bird brains from stalking her, however. Actually, Glida appreciated very little prior to her relationship with Dash, and even less after the whole thing blew up in her face. Normaly the raging griffon would of given these lousy birds the finger, possibly attacking them with claws of steel outstreched, but the lack of hydration in her body prevented her from doing so. She struggled against an impossible weight on her back, which slowed her every movement. It was as if the famed Iron Will was sitting on her back, using it as some sort of recliner. The sound of a body collapsing could be heard. The sound of defeat rang freely across the desert. Gilda was down and out.
The griffon could taste death on her tongue.
Small hooves poked at her back, rousing the sleeping beast from her seemingly drugged sleep. Instantly the flame of mid day sun took a hold of the griffon's eyes and stung them with hot fingers, causing shrill cries of pain to rise from the animal's curved beak. She hadn't even opened her eyes yet, but her day had started with pain.
"Relax, will ya? I'm only trying to see if you're dead or not! No sense in draggin' road kill along, ya know." A warm voice surrounded Gilda like a blanket. Her eyes suddenly shot open, blood red and glazed. It was if her mind was in a drunken state, and she tried to stand up on her wobbling legs. This voice, the drawl, they all sounded like her Dash, yet almost southern. The painful memory of a relationship lost dug into her heart. Her talon stubs sunk deeper into the sand, and she ignored the sheer pain of scalding sand making contact with raw skin. It almost felt peaceful, in a way. Perhaps she had even adapted to it. Where did this smooth voice orginate, anyway? She lifted her head, only to be face to face with a tiny buffalo.
"And just who the hell are you?" she responded with ice in her voice. Funnily enough, the buffalo seemed to take no offense to the griffon's rather rude awaking statement. She shrugged it off as if were nothing, and responded with a grin.
"Name's Little Strongheart, newcomer. Yet the better question is, just what the hey are you?"
Glida rolled her eyes. What a fool. Hadn't she ever seen a griffon before? There might not of been many left in existence, but for fuck's sake, they weren't extinct. Time to show off for the little one, anyway. She was quite a famed showboater. Spreading her wings slowly, she was suprised to see that despite the pain that rattled her body, she had regained some energy. "A griffon, kid. Gilda the griffon, if ya wanna be formal about it. Anyway, aren't you buffalo supposed to travel in packs or something? Not that I really care."
The former glint of excitement in Strongheart's eyes died down to a mere speck of white on her pupil. Her lips formed a slight frown. "They kicked me out of the herd. I don't wanna talk about it, really." She turned around and Glida examined her back. Scars decorated the young one's back, and it appeared as if she had been thrown from the hooves of angry critters.
"Why?" Gilda didn't take hints easily, and she continued pressed the matter. She almost instantly regretted saying the words. Had the sun made her brain go soft?
"You ready to hear a long story, traveler?"
Gilda hated to hear these life stories. They were always fed to her by people who thought their lives were interesting, something that she should waste time caring about. Why bothering worrying about some other idiot's issues when you have your own to deal with? Gilda, as one could infer, had plenty of problems at the moment. However, seeing as the buffalo known as Strongheart was the only living animal around who knew the desert well enough to get the two out of the land, it seemed like the griffon had no choice but to tag along and listen to her tale. With a little time passed, Gilda was sure she could block out her voice and could be left alone with her own thoughts. The buffalo's "Dash" accent seemed to melt away into something more formal.
"In my herd, spirtual events were held in the highest regard. We buffalo are paired with a suitable partner at a young age, regardless if the buffalo resides in the herd or elsewhere. Everyone is connected by invisible lines, and we were bound to meet our perfect match. At the ripe age of six years old, I was pulled from a game with my friends and brought in front of a large fire by the herd shaman. He asked me to gaze into the deep embers and tell him what I saw." She took a deep breath, and rose her head to the sky. The night was creeping into the desert, and the temperature dropped considerbly. The duo kept walking, however, seemingly marching straight into the stars.
"It took a while to really see what the fire held. The smoke continously burned my eyes, and I had to strain them something good to get a clear glimpse of what I was supposed to be searching for. I told him that I saw a blue pony with a beautiful mane. I mean, this pony's mane was gorgeous. I had seen nothing of the sort before, and though I didn't spend much time around ponies, I knew the hair color was a rare occurence, even for ponies. He was shocked, to say the least, but pony and buffalo relationships have been heard of before, and he sent me back to my parents without a harsh word in my direction. It wasn't until years later I figured out who that equinine really was.
"You see, I was on top of a train -Long story, don't ask- when a blur of activity seemed to bullet my way. And there my dream pony was, striped hair, thin body, and stunning eyes. The body of this horse just pulled me in, and I just wanted it all to myself. Love is quite a powerful attraction. But you know what? I chickened out. I never once mentioned my feelings toward this pony, though I had been festering them for years. This pony's form even visited me in my dreams! How could I not of asked? It was the worst choice of my life, as I can tell in hindsight, but what's done is done, right? It was all set in stone, and it was only after her leave from the area the herd currently resided in that I dared to tell my parents of my encounter. Their name were shamed forevermore because of my sin, and I was promptly kicked out of my home. And all because this pony was the same gender as me. A female mare by the name of Rainbow Dash."
Glida nearly choked on her own spit at the mention of her mare's name. Yes, the sun had truly eaten at her brain with its sharp rays. This buffalo and Dash couldn't possibly have any connection; it was maddness!
"Wait, hold on! You said Rainbow Dash, right? I ain't just hearing things?"
"Why, yes. I did." Little Strongheart blinked confusedly. Why did this stranger get so caught up on the name?
"That's my girlfriend! Well, my ex, anyway. S-she and I...We had a fight, you know. I mean, I loved her so much, yet I couldn't stop my anger from damaging my relationship with her. W-we, I mean, I thought we were meant to be, just l-like what you thought. It hurts. It really hurts." Her words tripped over one another like a wingless dragon attempting to fly. A rare emotion flooded Gilda: pain. No, not physical pain, yet emotional. She sunk on her haunches and let a few salty tear drops drip from her face. Her words even sound almost formal. Her pain was deep enough to tame the griffon's usually rowdy and rude language,
"You two were together? But... we were fated! It was foretold in the flames!"
Gilda took a long look at Strongheart, and was almost amazed at what she saw. Had she truely been looking at the buffalo? It was like a waterfall of realization had just crashed on her. True, her size was small, yet her hair was beautiful, soft, clean. Where one might of seen bunched up bushels of hair, Gilda saw the testmony of a hard working creature, an animal with strong willpower that was too busy working to bother with a brush. Feathers hung from a traditionaly styled headband, falling in front of her eyes just so... perfectly. But her eyes were the mosting grabbing, far suprassing her other physical features. Dash's only spoke of the joy of winning, a need for speed. Yet this one's had a story to tell, her past and willingness to survive spelled out in them. Gilda laughed slightly. What was this new emotion? She felt like she had once known it's smooth carress, yet it was so different from what she had experienced with Dash. Was this true love? Or had the hallucinations of desert heat finally becoming clear? Feelings drowned her thoughts in a sea of emotion.
Strongheart looked down, reflecting on the piece of news she had just received. "I guess it's my fault 'n all. I'm a freak. My love is twisted and wrong; what's the matter with me? The Gods are punishing me for loving a-" She stopped only to feel the nuzzle of a warm beak on her cheek, and turned to see that the griffon had come uncomfortably close.
Yet, for something so seemingly unenjoyable, the buffalo almost enjoyed the encounter...
"Shut your mouth, and listen to your heart. I'd kiss yah lips to stop yer trap, but my beak sort of prevents me from doing
that." Yes, Glida's slang had returned, and with that, her confidence which soared like wings.
"But isn't this wrong? It goes against the flame, and nature, and-"
"Flame, shlame. Look at me, Strongs. Do you like me?"
Strongheart forced herself to look up, and meet the eyes of the griffon, which danced with a sort of blue electricity. She felt entrigued by the stranger, and a emotion tugged at her heart. Was this what love truely was? THis interesting little tug had pulled at her heartstrings upon meeting the griffon, but she had just passed them off as a stomach ache of sorts. This must of been the true cause of her aches and pains, the ache of falsely mourning over one she should not miss at all and the pain of not being true to her heart.
"Yes, I do."
"Then why should we both obsess over Dash, eh? As long as we're together, we can take on nature and beat the crap out
of it if it dare try to pull us apart. Whatta say?"
"I say that you should take your trash talk out of our romance and let me kiss your beak." she bravely announced.
The griffon chuckled as she kneeled down to allow her lover to plant a small kiss on her, and allowed the small feeling of pleasure to spread across her body before pulling away from the small animal.
"Let's get some sleep. We've got a long day ahead of us."
The buffalo bowed her head, hiding her blush. "Y-yes. Of course. Good night, Gilda." She turned around a few times in the cool sand, much like a dog, before laying down and closing her eyes. The moon shined silver on her face, and Glida smiled.
"Good night, Strongs." What she was really saying was good night to Rainbow Dash. Good night forever. The blue mare was out of her thoughts for life.
This time around, she had something a little more than a friend with benefits. She had a lover.
