Gallus sat in front of the fireplace wrapped in a wool blanket. He'd stopped shivering a few minutes ago, but still felt the chill deep within his bones.
Fortunately, no one had been around to see what he'd done. He had the good sense to go out in the middle of the night, so he wouldn't have to explain himself to anyone. In a few minutes he'd go back upstairs to his bed and forget it ever happened.
The fire crackled like a smattering of applause. As he stared at it, his mind pleasantly emptied. He took a deep breath. Everything would be fine.
"Gallus? Is that you?" a familiar voice said from behind.
He stood up and threw the blanket off his shoulders, trying his best to look nonchalant. Then he turned to face whoever had spoken.
"Oh. Yeah. It's me. What's up, Silverstream?"
"What are you doing up so late?" she asked.
"I'm just, uh... well, why are you awake?"
"I heard a loud crash and wanted to see what it was."
"That was just me. Nothing to worry about."
Silverstream squinted her eyes and examined Gallus.
"Why are your feathers all wet?" she asked. " Are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I was outside earlier, and got some snow on me. No big deal."
"You went out in the middle of the night?"
"Yep."
"Why?"
"Oh, I just... had stuff to do."
"What did you do to make that noise? It sounded like a boulder crashed through the wall."
"It just sounded loud because of the echo in this place. You probably heard me open the door or something."
"Hm..." said Silverstream. She scratched her chin. Gallus was grateful griffons couldn't sweat.
"Gallus, do I annoy you?"
It took him a few seconds to process what she said.
"No. Of course not. Why would you ask me that?"
"Well, you remember the last day of class before break, when I told you about how windows were made out of sand, which meant they were made of rocks, which meant they should, theoretically, be hard and unbreakable?"
"Yeah."
"Do you remember what you said to me?"
Gallus sighed. "Yeah."
"I didn't think much of it at the time, but then I went to my next class, and Professor Applejack told us that you shouldn't let your friends change who you are. I asked if that meant we should never change, and she said no. There's good change and bad change, and a good friend only helps you change for the better. So I was wondering if maybe there's a good change I need to make, and I thought about how you called me annoying, so..."
"I'm sorry about that," said Gallus. "You're not annoying. You just get on my nerves sometimes."
"Don't those mean the same thing?"
"Well, uh, no one's perfect. We all make mistakes. Both of us messed up, so we should just call it even, right?"
Silverstream squinted at him. "Okay."
"Anyway, I should probably go up to bed. I'm really worn out, and want to make sure I have enough energy to spend the day with you guys tomorrow."
He grabbed the blanket and started to walk away.
"Hold on," said Silverstream. "You still haven't told me what you were doing."
Gallus turned around. "Well, maybe I don't want to tell you. Don't you remember when Rarity told us that we need to respect each other's privacy?"
"Well, yeah, but Twilight said that sometimes friends push you away when they need you most."
"This isn't like that. Just mind your own business."
"Could you please just tell me? I'd feel much better if I knew what was going on."
That was always the problem with talking to Silverstream. She said what she meant. Gallus knew that wasn't how things worked. You needed to choose your words carefully to make sure others couldn't know you too well. She wouldn't last a minute back in Griffonstone. She'd find something to earnestly care about and shout it from the rooftops. That was a surefire way to ostracize yourself to everyone. Letting others know about you was a sign of weakness.
Of course, things worked differently here. Everyone wouldn't pounce on you the second you talked about your feelings the way griffons would. So someone like Silverstream could go around telling everyone nonsense about windows and no one would bat an eye.
Gallus would do things the right way, and Silverstream would take a sledgehammer to his subtlety, breaking straight through to what she wanted to know.
It could be annoying to put up with.
He had the good sense not to say that to her. Instead, he settled on, "I'd feel much better if you didn't know."
The words escaped his mouth with more bite than he'd intended.
"What's gotten into you?" she asked.
"Nothing. I'm fine. Why can't you just believe me?"
"You're acting a lot meaner than you usually do. Professor Fluttershy said—"
"Who cares about our teachers! It's bad enough I have to put up with that stuff on school days, now you want to lecture me on break?"
"I'm just trying to be a good friend."
Gallus collected his thoughts. He clearly needed to tell her something, or she wouldn't let it go.
"Okay. I like to go flying in the middle of the night sometimes, when I have trouble falling asleep. I thought I could handle the cold, but then it started snowing. So I got wet, and came back to warm up by the fire. Are you happy now?"
Silverstream's expression completely changed. It looked like she didn't suspect a thing. "Why didn't you just tell me in the first place?"
Gallus let out a sigh of relief. Through experience, he knew the best way to lie was to stay as close to the truth as possible. He hadn't technically told her anything untrue, but he purposefully left out the most important part.
"Happy Hearth's Warming, by the way," she said.
"Isn't that tomorrow?"
"It's past midnight. Technically, today is tomorrow."
"Hilarious."
Gallus stood there for a moment, not doing anything. Silverstream filled the awkward silence.
"It's been nice having us all together for the holidays this year."
"Yeah, yeah it is." The chill bothered him again. He moved back to the fireplace and set his blanket on the floor so he could sit on it.
"Do you have any ideas for what to do tomorrow?" Silverstream asked.
"I don't know. Whatever ponies usually do on Hearth's Warming, I guess."
"Sandbar said it's mostly about spending time with friends and family. We can do whatever we want."
"I'm not picky. I'm fine with someone else coming up with the idea."
"The problem is that we can't think of anything we haven't already done. This has been a pretty amazing week. What's left for us?"
Gallus couldn't think of anything to say. He stared at the fire. Despite everything, he didn't want the conversation to end yet. He liked spending time with Silverstream and his other friends. They were all here for him. Silverstream was right; so far, everything had gone great. But...
"Do you feel like you know me?" Gallus asked.
"Of course! We've known each other for a few months now. I mean, we're friends, right?"
Back in Griffonstone, the worst thing anyone could do was open up about their feelings. He thought that was normal. For all his life he believed that across the world, each and every child was teased when they told others of their favorite book, or song, or color, or whatever. The point of every society was to teach its inhabitants to keep their emotions to themselves.
But the world had proved him wrong.
It had taken him years to learn this, and only months to unlearn it. It was harrowing, learning his entire way of thinking about life had been wrong. Since attending the school, no one had ever been mean to him for talking about his feelings. He still did it sparingly, just to be safe. It was a nice change of pace, but he had an image to maintain.
"I mean, you know me, definitely. I just... sometimes, I feel like I don't know myself."
He regretted it the moment he said it. It sounded so self-pitying, so whiny. He could only imagine what a griffon would say in response. Out of habit, he braced himself for the worst.
"What do you mean?" Silverstream asked.
"Mostly just... do you ever want to be cold?"
"Well, yeah, when it's super hot outside."
"Besides that. Just, in general, I guess."
"Well, sometimes I miss being underwater. But with the way the shape-changing works, the water doesn't feel that cold when you're a seapony. It's more like room temperature. But when I'm a hippogriff, I have plenty of feathers and hair to keep me warm. Aren't griffons the same? I thought you had a lot of natural insulation."
"Yeah, we do. Wind doesn't bother us much. But we can still get cold."
Silverstream scratched her head. "So... what was your question again?"
Do you ever feel like you deserve to be cold? That warmth isn't meant for you?
"Nothing. It was dumb anyway." Gallus yawned.
"Oh! Am I keeping you awake?" asked Silverstream. "How rude of me. Please, don't stay up on my account."
"Maybe I should go to bed," he said.
Despite his words, Gallus didn't want to stand up. His eyes were glued to the fire.
"Back in middle school, I read this book. For class. I didn't read the whole thing. No one did. We passed around answer sheets like trading cards. But I did open it, once, and I've never forgotten the first sentence."
Gallus cleared his throat.
"Some adolescents believe their pain is so unique that they spend all their time filling little notebooks with the supposed darkness in their souls."
He paused again to see if Silverstream had anything to say. She didn't. Her silence bothered him.
"I wish I'd read it. I don't remember what it's called. Sometimes I'm worried that's who I am. A mopey jerk who needs to lighten up."
She finally spoke. "I don't think that's right. I haven't ever seen you mope, and you're only sometimes a jerk."
Gallus smiled. If she'd known what he'd been like three years ago, she wouldn't have said that.
"We can agree on the jerk part, but it sounds like we have different definitions of moping," he said.
"What's yours?"
"I think it's when you feel sorry for yourself too much."
"Well," said Silverstream, "I think it's when you're so self-obsessed you think your own problems are more important than everyone else's."
Gallus shrugged. "It can be both."
Silverstream laughed at that. It felt good to make her happy. Did he really want to bring the mood down by telling her what happened?
It was a moot question. Of course he would. Strange, that he felt that way. He genuinely wanted to forget about it, and saying it out loud would make it real. If Silverstream knew, he would never forget. It would exist in both their minds. But since she arrived he had the feeling that, maybe, she would understand. He couldn't be sure, but there was only one way to find out.
Gallus took a deep breath.
"I wasn't just going for a nighttime fly."
He paused, and Silverstream looked at him expectantly.
"I... did something else, too."
Again, he let the words hang for a moment.
"I've been having such a great week with you all. I really can't complain about anything. It's all I've ever wanted. Maybe I'm just not used to getting what I want."
Hearth's Warming Eve had been particularly special. The cocoa, opening presents, everyone joining in singing cheesy songs. When he went to bed that night, Gallus realized that he had lived a perfect day. He replayed every moment in his head, and couldn't find a single thing to complain about.
That's when he got up and went outside.
Silverstream was silent again.
"It's so warm with you guys. I figured that I needed to spend some time in the cold. Just to remind myself. Make sure I didn't forget."
"Forget what?"
My place.
"I don't know," he said. "I guess I forgot." He smiled at her. She smiled back.
It was an old trick, but it worked. Whenever things risked being too genuine, he'd make a joke. That way, no one would worry about him too much. Hopefully, it would be enough to soften the blow.
"It's... I did go flying for a bit. Until I noticed this snowbank. I landed and rolled around in it. Then I guess I just... lay there, for a while. Feeling the cold."
A few of his feathers were still frozen. They chafed his skin.
"I lost track of time. My wings were too stiff to fly, so I had to walk back here. It took ages. I knocked something over when I arrived. A box, I think. I don't know. That's the sound you heard. It's... the fire helped. I'm fine now."
His gaze rested on the dancing flames the whole time he'd spoken. He wouldn't have been able to say it if he'd looked her in the eyes.
Already he knew it had been a mistake to tell her. She'd probably start patronizing him, treating him like a child. That's the biggest reason why he didn't talk about this with anyone. Their first instinct was to pity him. He couldn't stand pity. It hurt worse than the cold.
Gallus squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for whatever Silverstream would do next. She'd likely turn away from him, worried that he'd bruise at the softest touch, a pathetic, whiny little—
She gave him a hug. His impulse was to push her away. He hadn't warmed up enough yet, and didn't want to make her cold. But if it bothered her, she didn't show any sign. He wrapped his forelegs around her, the warmth of her body helping the chill melt away.
They stayed like that for a while.
When she stopped, he examined her face. There wasn't an ounce of pity in her eyes.
Silverstream finally spoke. "That sounds like it sucks."
It was the nicest thing she could have said to him.
Gallus looked away so she couldn't see the emotion on his face.
"You won't tell anyone about this, right?" he asked.
"I won't. But you should talk to a teacher about it."
"No."
"But I think it might—"
"Let's just focus on one thing at a time. We're celebrating Hearth's Warming today. It'll be fun. You guys know how to make a griffon feel welcome."
"I'm happy to hear that," said Silverstream, "but when the celebration's over, we need to do something about this."
Gallus sighed. There she went again, saying exactly what she meant.
"If you insist."
"I do."
"Fine." He stood up. "Well, it's late. I really should go back to bed. For real this time."
"Okay."
He grabbed his damp blanket and headed for the stairs. The dying fire cast a long shadow across the floor.
Gallus had finally done it. He'd managed to tell someone something about himself. This was the most he'd ever opened up to anyone. Silverstream would never know how much this meant to him.
Unless he told her.
He stopped moving and turned around.
"Silverstream?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks. For talking to me. I appreciate it."
"You're welcome."
He breathed a little easier. It felt good when he said what he meant.
