Author's Note

The actual cloppy parts come in a couple of days.
Apparently I cannot control myself and stick to a plan.

Sacrament of Sin

The ceremony at the top of the hill overlooking Frozenlake ended. Whatever magical spells fizzling in the region had done what they were supposed to do and sputtered out of Gilda’s mind. The excitement remained. The same Sky Sentries who guided the group to the top of the hill herded the rowdy and excited griffons back to the city lest some idiot might get lost in the cold dark. Stand owners and vendors were more than ready to welcome them back with open grins and a wide variety of stuff for sale.

Bonfires provided a flickering lighting and fire spectacles began. Used for full effect in the dark, trailing behind weapons in mock fights and juggled torches. Stand owners made even more food and drinks available for affordable prices. Gilda could swear the prices seemed higher during the day. Commoner griffons now had access to everything Frozenlake offered during the day and more. After the cubs went inside for the night, griffons offering more risque services showed up.

It was something difficult to quantify, but Gilda had become quite good at reading griffons and their behavior. Retrospectively, she understood it all, having lived in the poor area of Griffonstone, where griffons had a tendency to be less conniving. Or at least more honest about it. Be it at Griffonstone or Frozenlake, griffons would naturally go out buck naked. Given the choice, that is. Even the northerners wore capes and animal skins to shield themselves from the cold. But even then, nakedness was expected, and they often used an accessory or another for fashion statement. Greta, Gilda’s friend back at Griffonstone, for example, liked her scarf a lot. Other griffons liked bracelets, wristbands, and tail rings. All of those were fashion statements.

The Harpy’s Loremasters wore their blue satin capes, held in place by delicate iron chains across their necks. Gilda knew that the one or two griffon Royal Justiciar wore the same red capes the ponies would wear, back in the South. Griffonia’s Standing Army soldiers wore green shirts and black berets. But those were badges of office and uniforms. They told creatures they were important and part of an organization.

On the streets of Frozenlake, Gilda saw the northerner griffons hunting for private, paying customers. Others just happened to be in the mood to hook up and have uncompromised fun. And the curious thing was that in such a context they also used clothing and accessories to show their intentions. Headdresses made with exuberant and colorful feathers of birds were among the preferred. Others wore vibrant collars of anything shiny, usually in multiple layers. Heavy makeup, dyed patterns on feathers and fur. Even sprucing up their wings with more colors from animal feathers and ribbons was common.

It was also in the body language. The way they stood around and stared at others. The flashing eyes, rolling hips and swaying tails. Words and tone they used. Winks and smiles. Powerful were the smells, and out of their control, beyond lies. Like a secret language that needed no translation, spreading like a wildfire.

Hide your cubs, hide your mates. It’s griffons after dark, and The Harpy really wanted them to get the memo when there were opportunities around. The whole affair did things to Gilda she was not expecting. Besides the entire range of frisky giddiness and moist nethers, that is. She wrapped her wings around Godwin and Georgia and held them close to her sides.

“I better keep the two of you on a tight leash for now.” She chuckled and grinned at their eyes darting around the griffons on display. “What, didn’t your old folk tell you about the street working griffons? The ones not cleaning the gutters or hauling trash?”

Georgia stammered a couple of syllables before she spoke. “You know very well they didn’t, Miss Gilda!”

“She’s just messing with us, Georgia.” Godwin grumbled in the most adorable butthurt way.

“Hey, come on. It’s my civic duty to poke the kids about their first time, kinda like an older sister. Right?”

Georgia did an excited little tap dance while they walked. “I do feel kinda giddy, though…”

“Yes!” Gilda grinned along with her. “That artist dude you fished is kinda cute! Though the window climber wasn’t half bad, either. How does this thing work? Can you have two partners? Do they have to wait in line, or are you allowed to have two guys?”

No answer from the younger griffoness. Just the resounding shame of her blushing cheeks and Gilda laughing at her expense.

“Can you stop, please? You’re the responsible adult.” The male sibling too, blushed like a beet and hid behind his wing. “This whole thing is weird enough. It’s embarrassing!”

Gilda’s own experience told her it was all normal. Griffons got exposed to that stuff naturally. Then ‘it’ would happen naturally and family, friends, society would poke fun at the young ones. It was something Gilda never got to experience when she was in their place. All she got was A on a bunch of homework assignments that really disagreed with her grades on exams. But hey, the Equestrian Education Association said it was okay.

Before Gilda could further pester the two younger griffons, Gjarma rushed close to them. The salmon-colored, adorable, pretty, and grinning griffoness greeted them with a matching chirpiness. She hopped close to them and declared that, since Gilda had occupied the Manor, they would have the meeting in the Old Temple. That sounded like exactly the place The Harpy would gather griffons for a ‘meeting’.

For the time being, Lady Geena’s assistant accompanied them back to the Manor. She would walk them to the place and ensure the VIP treatment, but upon getting to the Manor, Georgia wanted to ‘get ready’. Gilda held her tail just as she took off to her room and caused the young griffoness to go face-first on the floor and made Godwin blush.

“The only place you’re going is next to me.” Gilda’s seriousness shut the conversation before it even began. “You tell a maid what is it you want, and she’ll take it to my room where all four of us will get ready for the meeting.”

No answer necessary. Georgia’s offended pout ignored. Gilda and Grunhilda herded the two siblings to the back of the hall and up the stairs to their room. Arriving, the three females started sharing the single mirror above the vanity while an uncomfortable Godwin sat by the door, not knowing what to do with himself. Quickly enough, one of the maids brought Georgia the dress she wanted. An adorable and tight green satin-thing that was cut short and ruffled over her rump, barely hiding it from the eyes. Gilda nodded. The girl understood the ‘secret language of clothes’ alright.

Minding herself, Gilda invested her time into taking care of her crest. All the wind at the top of the hill messed up her feathers, and she kept pulling and tugging them into the perfect shape of a griffon’s crest. It seemed like futile work as the more she tugged, the more the next feathers would look out of shape. Giving up was not an option, though. Not with Georgia looking so cute next to her, putting a soft green highlight on her feathers and her eyes.

Then Gilda noticed Grunhilda sitting behind her with her usual upset, silent frown. Georgia kept a serene smile, applying some shadow to her eyes, and Gilda rolled hers. She continued adjusting her feathers, pinching one after the other, while staring at Big Girl in the mirror. “You know it’s annoying when you just stare like that and won’t tell me what is bothering you. Can you stop? You’re souring my mood.”

“I’m sorry Miss Gilda.” Big Girl’s cute ear-like crests of delicate feathers deflated, and she mumbled something unintelligible. She also looked away from Gilda in the mirror and mumbled some more. The only word Gilda grasped was ‘Gevorg’.

“Wait. Are you jealous?” Gilda turned to her with a gasp and Grunhilda mumbled some more words. Her unease got Georgia’s attention too, but the younger griffoness let Gilda deal with it. The latter’s first thoughts were that she really ought to punish inappropriate behavior, but that made her feel like Grunhilda was her pet. And that Big Girl might enjoy it, negating the wanted effect. “You know, it would be a lot easier to fix the problem if you actually told me what is bothering you. Like, you know, we’re adults having a conversation.”

Considering Gilda knew her lover enough to know she would not open up, she sighed and stared up at the ceiling. Her chance of scoring it with the hot dude evaporating and undoing itself in the wind. “Listen, if you say you don’t want me to go, I’ll stay here with you and someone else can accompany these two.”

“No!” Grunhilda shrieked and flapped her wings so hard she almost lifted off the floor and sent stuff tumbling around the room. Also messed up Gilda’s feathers again, but she let that go. “I want to try a male too!”

“Oh, that is all?” Gilda glared at her, and Georgia giggled. Godwin just remained silent, pretending he was not there. “Did you think I meant for you to just sit in a corner and watch, you dummy? Of course, you can get laid with whoever you want.”

“But I’m scared!” Grunhilda tap-danced nervously.

“Oh…” Gilda blinked. “I’ll help you!”

“You will?”

“Sure. It’s gonna be a thing this entire night since I’m apparently experienced. Right? Now come help me.”

The minor crisis resolved; things progressed smoothly. Grunhilda hopped closer to Gilda with happy wing flaps and an excited grin. Sitting behind her, Big Girl immediately beaked at Gilda’s feathers, lovingly zipping her beak across them and setting them straight. She held Gilda’s shoulders and the tan griffoness relaxed, closing her eyes and simply enjoying it with a warm smile. Meanwhile, Grunhilda kept murmuring softly as she worked Gilda’s feathers. Her warm body stole away all the tenseness Gilda’s muscles had accumulated from the cold outside.

Georgia complained in angry murmurs about not having anyone to help her, but if Godwin even heard her, Gilda doubted he would touch her feathers that night. So, Gilda helped her, the same way Grunhilda had helped, and Grunhilda turned to Godwin to straighten up his feathers. Whether or not he liked it. Why was he complaining? Grunhilda was a gorgeous queen.

It didn’t last long, but it was such a warm moment Gilda wished it had. She didn’t want to leave Gevorg or Gjarma waiting, though. Almost ready to leave, she meant to grab her white cloak, but decided against wearing it. She didn’t want it to get ruined by any stray bodily fluids. She grabbed Mythical and left it to rest on her back, inside the scabbard. It was her symbol of status, after all.

Ready to leave and call the others to the door, Gilda halted close to unlatching the lock and stared at it for a couple of seconds before she turned to the others. “You know, maybe I should give you guys some pointers… I suppose I am more experienced, after all. Uh…. Let’s see…”

She started and got the three pairs of eyes staring at her, despite her silence which followed. Eventually, Godwin raised his paw, but as soon as her eyes crossed with his, he pulled it down. “Hey! I saw that! You have a question. Give it to me!”

He sighed and turned red, but he relented with only half a second of smoldering glaring. He didn’t speak, though, and Gilda felt that giddy warmth again, throwing a dirty grin at him. Both Grunhilda and Georgia started giggling, itching to tease Godwin as much as Gilda was. “What? Having second thoughts?”

He first gasped, and then he fidgeted in place with his tail swaying nervously to one side and the other. “No. That’s not it.”

Shooting him an inquisitive glare, Gilda kept her dirty grin. Walking next to Godwin, sitting, and laying a wing on his back. He went rigid as a stone. “If you’re trying to hide something in there, I don’t really care, but it might make your sister uncomfortable.”

“Oh! Can I see it?!” Grunhilda blurted, a little too excited.

“No!” Godwin yelled, and it actually caused his sister to giggle. “That’s not it. I don’t know how to explain!”

Grunhilda then gasped and flapped her wings. “You’re gay?!”

“No! It’s just that…” He yelled again while Georgia burst out laughing. He kept mumbling and stuttering. Forcing his gaze to the floor. “Well, it’s something the guys were talking about earlier.”

“Out with it, Godwin…” Gilda demanded as the fun became stale.

“Well, the guys said that I should… You know… Do it. Before… Doing it.”

“You’re not making a lot of sense, Godwin...” Grunhilda made her confused frown and Georgia yawned into her paw.

Gilda rolled her eyes. “Can you stop being a little bitch and just say what is wrong already?”

“Fine! The guys, the guards… They said that the toms should… Uh…” His face turned bright red again and he all but whispered at Gilda. “Beat their meat. Before… You know… Meeting their queen.”

A couple of seconds passed with Godwin quietly staring at the three of them, and Grunhilda started giggling. “That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard!”

“Weren’t you the one with all the tomfriends back at Griffonstone?” Gilda glared at Grunhilda and the latter sat with an angry pout. Turning back to Godwin, Gilda made sure her expression was plain and neutral. “You know how I have those weird dreams and memories from my past lives as a Loremaster and a Swordmaiden?”

He cocked an eyebrow at her words, but nodded positively.

“So, the millenary wisdom of the Loremasters of The Harpy says it doesn’t really make a difference. Either way.” She followed with a shrug. “Since Mother Harpy has made these things to drive us, and that you are a handsome young adult, odds are on your side tonight.”

“I guess I’ll just sit here and wait until everyone is ready to go, then.”

“Eew…” Georgia shot him a disgusted scowl while Gilda walked from him.

“Shut up! I know you do it too!” He stood and flared his wings.

“Do not!” Georgia flared her wings too, staring defiantly, but winced when Gilda slapped her behind the head. “Ow!”

“Yeah, you do. And nobody cares.” Gilda glared at her. “Does anyone have any other question, or can we go?”

“Miss Gilda, is there anything we need to know?” Grunhilda hummed and smiled with a rosy tint on her cheeks. “You know… About the meeting. It’s going to be my first time with a male.”

Gilda nodded her acknowledgement of Big Girl’s question and spent a second thinking, again with a frown and holding her beak. “I guess… Just let it flow. Things happen naturally. I mean, it can’t really get much more straightforward than it already is.”

Although, there was so much to say, and the thought made Gilda raise an eyebrow. She sat before Grunhilda and the others, frowning deeper, browsing the ancient memories in the background of her mind. Her own experience, the mundane memories of her own first partner, proved more useful. Back in Gilda’s youth, it probably helped that she scared her boyfriend, and would put up with a lot because of his usefulness.

What a Harpy-damned mess Gilda’s life was. But the three presently most important griffons in her life stared at her and waited for her to tell them something useful, so she left the self-pity aside. She cleared her throat and quickly prepared a small speech inside her head.

“I guess I could tell you guys about those teas that keep you from getting pregnant, but I suppose they’ll get that covered in the meeting itself. Geez, I just don’t know how things are going to work out, but in the Bordello of Candy, the ponies give you some potion that protects you from ‘catching a baby or a nasty’. So, I suppose they do something like that here.”

“You went to the Bordello of Candy?” Godwin raised an eyebrow. “In the Crystal Empire, with Princess Cadance? Isn’t that a sin or something?”

Gilda chuckled bitterly. “Yeah, like I had the money to buy my way in or had the prestige to get invited, like Rainbow Dash. Anyway… Uh… Don’t be a jerk? Don’t be a doormat either. Just remember that you’ll be there to have fun, like the others. And talk to griffons, make sure it’s okay.”

“Geez, come on, Gilda.” She groaned at her own words and the fact that griffons have been fucking since the dawn of time. Supposedly, multiple dawns of time.

“Look, nobody is going to judge you in that place. If it’s anything like the parties we had at school, the others will be too busy being awkward or enjoying themselves to mind what you’re doing.” Gilda raised a finger as she spoke with a grin. “Keep it simple. If it hurts, or you don’t like it, tell them to stop. I don’t think we’ll get any assholes in there. Miss Gerdie said something that stuck with me and seems about right. That the northerners can be creepy and assertive, but they’re nice when it counts. And they are also very courteous.”

“Yeah. Gevorg had Gosalynn present him to me because he didn’t want to intrude.” Grunhilda listened with a fierce focus. The two siblings too, but they hid it a little better. “If all fails, if you tell them to stop, and if they don’t, you can defend yourself. Don’t be afraid to use all you got. And ask for help. I guarantee the Meeting will have griffons that won’t have any of that happening in their party. I can also say that you’re going to find weird things pleasurable. Like, a bit of pain… But then, not. It’s weird. Just do what you like, understand?”

“Got it! Hum, I think.” Grunhilda beamed, and again the siblings nodded at her words, making mental notes, but trying not to show it too much. Good enough for Gilda.

“Ah, also… Just because you want to try things, it doesn’t mean you can’t stop if you don’t like it. They’ll either understand, or I’m going to murder someone. Or Lady Geena will. Either way, you three will be safe. Alright?” Gilda’s smile twisted into a frown. “Uh… Just help me too if that Gevorg guy turns out to be a creep.”

Grunhilda giggled and did her usual happy tap-dance. “I will!”

“Use that sword of yours on him!” Georgia giggled, but Godwin didn’t show any reaction. He just seemed ready to leave already.

Satisfied she had done the best she could, Gilda chuckled at the other’s excitement and the three hurried their way down the stairs. Past maids speeding through their jobs and guards who had resigned to the fact they would be stuck working during the night of the festival. They had changed, though. It was another shift, so it was not so bad.

Gjarma sat by the Manor’s doors. She waited patiently and Gilda noted the hungry looks Godwin kept getting from the Manor’s servants. He completely ignored them, but Gilda supposed he would learn to notice it. Geena’s assistant Loremaster even complimented Georgia on her good taste with her dress and soft highlights on her feathers. Gilda just hoped she wouldn’t be too disappointed if her cute dress ended up ruined at the end of the meeting. Then again, it probably belonged to the Manor, so whatever.

Outside, the celebration seemed to have invaded the keep’s walls. Several griffons shielded themselves from the cold near a couple of bonfires and mingled under the watch of the guards. Someone had assembled a stage before the guard’s barracks and there was a lot of happy dancing and singing in there. Hopefully, none of that would disturb her pet roc inside the Aviary, as it was well inside the range of all the festivity. The place seemed shielded enough. Another thing was the hippogriff situation, but she couldn’t do anything about it yet. Gilda shoved those thoughts out of her head so she could enjoy the night without turning into a nervous wreck.

A small band played a cheerful march, and a good crowd of around fifty griffons had joined. They danced on the wood and straw covered yard, along with the troupe of merry dancing and singing griffons on the stage. A bunch of happy chirps and wiggling feathers and butts. At the front was a ‘Griffonstone tan’ queen with yellow highlights on her white feathers. Her yellow, jubilant eyes… Wait a second.

“Gertrude?” Gilda gasped and walked from Gjarma and the others, weaving her way into the crowd. “Gertrude, is that you?!”

“Oh, hey! It’s the Swordmaiden of the Shaddani!” The griffoness stopped dancing, although all the tall feathers on her headwear and golden sequins in her dress still jingled. “Hi Gilda!”

The group stopped the performance, and the griffoness hopped from the stage to hug Gilda. Soon her older partner in crime, Grizelda, came down too, with her purple feathers. Gilda hugged them both, careful not to ruin their entire wardrobe of accessories. She shook their paws and beamed while the others caught up with her. The crowd gave them some space, and some griffons smiled or grinned with excited comments at the scene. “You guys made it here!”

“I guess the northerners weren’t so unfriendly to a pair of southerner hookers.” Grizelda chuckled while Gertrude hugged Gilda again. “Actually, we were in your caravan, but we didn’t want to bother you. We were in the single female tent. You know, the one that was already giving you so much grief.”

“You should have told me!” Gilda frowned. “I would have put you two in the Manor!”

“Nah, don’t worry about it!” The older Grizelda waved a paw at Gilda. “We’re fine. Lady Geena got us working for her, and it’s great. Plenty of work to do, though. And you are busy!”

The quick, happy meeting raised Gilda’s mood further. Quick, but nice, even after they said their goodbyes and she marched along with Gjarma. The loremaster led them to the previously mentioned Old Temple. That was a bad name. ‘Old’ barely scraped the surface of what that place looked like. It was ancient. Just the sight of it stirred memories inside Gilda’s head.

It was about as large as twice the main hall on the Manor, with short wings at the back and a square tower, also at the back. The battlements at the top of the tower had broken in a few places and a corner of the structure had slid off and crumbled apart. All made of old stone, exposed for so long, it seemed frozen. A part of scenery. A part of the plains and soft mounds of snow. They replaced the original glass on the windows for thicker ones. And the doors too, for solid wood capable of withstanding the cold. Parts of the roof seemed to have undergone maintenance, but it was difficult to see in the night's dark. Locals had placed torches and pyres to light the way again, as well as the building itself. Those had trouble beating the overcast, starless night, but made for a mysterious and wondrous atmosphere. Had Gilda any say, that place looked cool enough for a total renovation.

A pair of Sky Sentries stood watch before the door and another opened it for a couple of griffons to enter from a small agglomeration in front of the building. Locals and visitors chatted while they waited as one of the older loremasters sat at the door, examining griffons before letting them in. Gilda knew what she was doing: making sure only the ones who qualified would enter. It didn’t bother Gilda as much as she had thought it would. There was plenty of fun to be had outside.

Gjarma took Gilda, Grunhilda, Godwin and Georgia around the dense pack of chatty griffons and along the way, Gertha joined them. She gave Gilda a hearty grin the tan griffoness responded in kind and Gjarma nodded at them. Good. Gilda would’ve made a scene if one of her friends wanted in and couldn’t. Fortunately, Garnet was nowhere to be seen. It was a delightful bonus.

Soon after, from the middle of the waiting griffons emerged Gilda’s ‘date’. Capitan Gevorg, covered with his smoothly brushed charcoal coat and perfectly preened silver feathers. He had his vibrant purple eyes on Gilda and approached with a measured elegance. He carried himself with confidence on his steps and a raised head, still smelling of oak. The picture-perfect boyfriend she wanted while she was in school. If he was good at mathematics, she might as well mate him.

“Ah! Lady Gilda!” His enormous, eager grin was the most noticeable part, though. He coughed and got his enthusiasm under control with a sideway glance before he smiled confidently at her again. “I’m glad you came. And. Ah… Unaccompanied?”

“Actually, we are with her.” Godwin cut Gilda off before she barely smiled at the captain.

Gevorg laughed. “Sorry, kid. I meant that Gilda didn’t come with another adult.”

“Yeah…” The young tom sighed. “I suppose not.”

While Georgia and Grunhilda undid themselves with cackling laughter, the big male grimaced and sat on the ground, waving his paws frantically. “Sorry! I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant that… Uh…”

Gilda slapped Godwin behind his head and pointed at the door, walking right after him and coming closer to deliver some angry whispers. “The last thing I need is you getting jealous. What the heck was that? You’ll soon be up to your neck with some horny little queen to worry about big ladies out of your league.”

“Sorry Miss Gilda!” He whimpered and pressed his step with her trailing behind. The others followed, with Grunhilda and Georgia cheerily greeting Gevorg and spending meaningless banter with him. Gilda kept her angry glare behind Godwin’s head, but she would be lying if she said his jealous outburst hadn’t lit her ego on fire.

Giggling like a dumb pony on the inside, Gilda shared a smile with Gertha and Gjarma, escorting Godwin to the door where the old griffon lady waited. Raising her eyes from the clipboard, she cast a curious stare at the small group before her. As expected, she addressed Gilda first.

“Welcome, Lady Gilda. And you must be...” The older griffon lady by the door, blue and silver, scanned a clipboard. “Ah, Lady Gertha?”

“Just Gertha is fine!” The pink griffoness held her beaming grin at the Loremaster.

“Welcome!” The older griffoness also smiled warmly at Godwin and Georgia, but mostly at Grunhilda and then at Gevorg. “You are welcome, Captain. Welcome all of you! Please, step inside.”

One of the Sky Sentries opened the door, but it was hard to see details in the shade and under their armor and helmet. Gilda wasn’t there to look at the guards and led the group into the building. Behind the door, the ancient walls were gray with white mortar in between. A pair of red flags with the black and white wings of the Cult of The Harpy hung from either side and another set of doors, partially open, led to another room. Their feet walked on a nice and fluffy red carpet. Tables on each side, under the banners, had pitchers and towels and griffons used of the water to clean their paws. A candelabra hung from the ceiling. While doing the same, Gilda looked at the light source hanging from the ceiling. Little brass griffon cubs, each holding a candle, hung from the exquisite wooden ceiling. Nothing old other than the structure’s charm. And with such good taste.

They had erected a small room near the door with planks for walls. Little more than a counter with a nice griffon lady waiting to take clothes away to storage and with a collection of transparent crimson vials. The queen, all steely gray and wearing the blue cape of the Loremasters, beckoned them closer. Gilda coming to the counter, she picked one vial in her fingers and offered it with a smile. “So you get nothing nasty in here, milady. As clean and mindful of their health as griffons are, such things are a reality.”

Gilda held the little flask and contemplated it with a smile before showing it to the younger griffons at her party. “See? Like we talked about!”

Finally, Gilda pulled out the glass cork in the shape of a flower, downed the spit-worth of a potion, and returned the vial. Not wanting to get ‘anything nasty’, the others did the same.

“If you have nothing you wish to leave here, have fun!” The griffoness on the other side of the counter grinned and waved goodbye as another group approached.

Gilda would not part with Mythical, nor Georgia would part with her cute dress. The difference being that Gilda had taken a weapon with her, but she didn’t care. Mythical was her symbol of how outstanding she was, and once the others finished washing their paws, Gilda led them into the next room. And what Gilda saw made her happy the town’s Loremasters had the meeting in that place.

While Gilda herself had little idea of how a temple ought to be, the Loremasters inside her head and the distant memories of past lives agreed with that place. Black-and-white marble for floor, with a central red and golden carpet running through the hall. A vast table took over the center of the room, covered with food and beverages. They might as well feed an army. A pompous and horny army. The smells of strong spices and fresh fruits reached all the way to the entrance with the spicy aromas of aphrodisiacs.

The pillars before the stony walls flanked luxurious canopy beds. Enough space for some five griffons to do whatever their vivid imagination could conjure up in the privacy of colorful curtains adorned with decorative patterns. Thankfully, not a heart in sight, nor horseshoes or stars. Each had little rampant bronze griffons, holding out their talons and with open beaks, screaming in fury along with elegant and curvy patterns.

“Yeah…” Georgia grumbled, turning to Godwin with a deadpan stare for the ages. “This is gonna get awkward. I’ll stay in a corner of the room, and you stay in the opposite one.”

“As if I’d want to hear you making noises.” He rolled his eyes as Gilda chuckled at them. They weren’t usually like that; it was probably the event that got them so snappy.

“Come on, guys.” Gilda resumed walking to the table in the center, where most of the griffons had congregated and made noise, talking, and laughing. The others followed, despite the siblings’ sudden exchange. “Come on. Let’s mingle.”

The group exchanged greetings with several griffons of different ages. Gertha attracted some attention. If Gilda had become as good at reading griffons as she liked to think, both because she was a strong and attractive queen, and because she didn’t quite fit. However, the latter raised no complaints, and all agreed to just have fun.

Brief bursts of conversations happened as greetings from locals and quick exchanges about their past and expectations about the Meeting happened. An atmosphere of festivity and excitement filled the great hall. Older griffons escorting their young talked amongst themselves as the young griffons held their own congregations. Often some older griffon would comment at how handsome or adorable someone looked, or old griffon friends would hug and talk over the food and beverages. Newcomers presented themselves and listened to locals as they always seemed to have something to say.

All under the eyes of another imposing and domineering sculpture of Mother Harpy. It sat in the back, at the top of an altar, flanked by two doors leading further into the building. They would certainly lead to the ‘adults’ party’ for the older griffons, but Gilda was there for the younger griffons at the moment. Older griffons went through the doors while sons, daughters, brothers, and sisters stayed behind with their friends. And tutors, Gilda supposed.

Leave it to the northerners to turn their kids losing their virginity into a social event. It held the usual combination of northerner foods, but little meat and a vast selection of alcoholic beverages. Not surprising at all. Gertha, even less surprised than Gilda, immediately grabbed a flagon of fruity mead for herself as soon as conversations and greetings gave pause. When Gilda and the others stared at her for a few seconds, she stopped chugging down the drink and stared back at them. “It has just occurred to me I’m old enough to be one of these little queens’ mother. I need some of this before I can start thinking about lewds.”

The pink griffoness showed her neck, beak up, downing the entire flagon in one go. On the other side were Georgia’s cute blue eyes and youthful loveliness, staring at Gilda with innocent curiosity. Truth be told, Gilda was not so old as to be her mother, but she totally understood where Gertha was coming from. Thus, Gilda also grabbed one flagon for herself and started downing it.

Gevorg blinked at the two, filling themselves with alcohol, and shrugged. “I don’t think this is really necessary, Miss Gilda. You’re both definitively on the younger and attractive side. Ah… Most northerners will prefer a mature queen to a young one any day.”

“Dude, if you’re gonna call me ‘miss’ while we fuck, I better have seconds.” Gilda mumbled from her flagon, stopping for only a second so she could talk.

In the end, all four of Gilda’s companions too followed Gertha’s example. Before they knew it, they were again hanging out in the middle of the local and newcomer griffons, talking like they had known each other since they were born. Eventually Gilda found Gia, and like the Loremaster she was, she had attracted a bunch of young griffons seeking guidance.

Unfortunately, Gia showed her usual standoffish suffering at the fact that others existed. “Just don’t do anything stupid, like clawing each other’s eyes or testicles off, and you’ll be fine.”

“This is a special day for them, Gia.” Gilda sat next to her, noticing the annoyed young griffons glaring at their loremaster. “It’s your job to guide them. Can’t you be a little less ‘you’?”

“No, I can’t.” Gia sniffled and then gave off a tired sigh. “Why don’t you take it up, o Swordmaiden of the Shaddani? You’re supposed to be a fancy Loremaster-Swordmaiden hybrid griffon or something and another.”

“I know that inside you just act like an asshole because you’re insecure.” Gilda touched Gia’s chest. Maybe it was the alcohol talking. She had had her fill back at the race, but her words sure felt sincere. “Will it kill you to be nicer? I mean, I’m a jerk myself, but I can be nice.”

“Yes. It might actually kill me to be nicer.” After another deathly exhausted sigh, Gia flashed a forced smile at the young griffons. “So, does anyone have questions?”

While most of Gia’s audience just stared at her with ostensive annoyance, one of the young males showed really interested eyes. A cute, although strong, white, like Grunhilda, raised his paw with an enthusiastic grin. Gia cut him off with a tired tone. “No, you will not penetrate her womb. You can’t fill her with your cum. Just because you had an orgasm, it doesn’t mean you are in love, nor that she or he loves you. Yes, you can have oral sex after penetration, and clean yourselves after anal sex. There is a reason there are plenty of soap and napkins available. Yes, you can have sex with as many partners as you want, don’t feel jealous and don’t accept or make mating proposals. You’ll be laughed at and if you accept, you will later regret it. Finally, no beating. You can pretend whatever your little hearts want, but there will be no violence. Are there any proper questions?”

As she was done, a couple of heartbeats of awkwardness passed, and Gertha made a grimacing frown. “Who hurt you?”

“Never mind Gia.” Gilda shoved the green griffoness aside with an angry glare. Why was she angry? Maybe because educating them was the goal, and she had actually grown responsible. And half-drunk, but that was beside the point. Maybe it was because Gia got on her nerves. Perhaps it was because Gevorg was watching. Or it was a combination of all those things. Who cares? She was there to have fun and the young tom had a question. Showing off her understanding of stuff was fun too, and Gilda grinned at him. “What was your question?”

The white tom had blue eyes like Grunhilda’s, but clearer, and he took a couple of steps forward, out of his group of young toms and queens. His face held the same young naivety as the others, but he seemed… More. Maybe it was how he looked like Grunhilda, missing her cute crests of small feathers. To be honest, he looked like the kid that would get bullied in school.

“My big brother told me I should do the mating dance because it makes the females go crazy.” He smiled as he spoke, and the others in his group frowned at each other with confused murmurs.

“Uh, dance?” Gilda looked at Gia, who shrugged.

“Well, give it a try!” Gertha grinned. “It can’t hurt, can it?”

With that, the young male raised his head and filled his lungs while the others took a couple of steps back. After a small hop, he opened his wings with a noisy flap and his gaze turned into a dead-serious glare and frown. His feathers rattled with his vibrating wings.

“Prrcoo.” He purred and cooed like a deranged pigeon. He flapped his wings and turned on his feet, flapping his wings again. “Prrr-ooooo!”

Another hop before swaying his head left and right, down and up. “Coo-ooooo!”

Five steps forward, but not normal steps. Forceful, exaggerated steps, throwing his forelegs forward with which one. “Prrcoooo-ooo!”

A quick spin around and five more steps followed. He kept bobbing his head and staring with huge, soul-consuming, wide eyes until he stopped. Next, he plopped his ass on the floor and wiggled his body, rocking his head from side to side and making a guttural warbling noise.

And I spent millennia teaching griffons…

Gilda summoned all the willpower on every ounce of her being not to laugh at Mother Harpy’s words. Meanwhile, the white tom stood again and flared his wings before and over Grunhilda, dancing from one side to the other, covering her face with one wing and then the other. All while still sounding like a wacky pigeon.

Gertha giggled. “Is it working, Grunhilda?”

Big Girl hummed nervously and frowned, pulling back her head from his shaking feathers before she gave him an angry glare. “I am feeling something. But it’s not very nice.”

“Unfortunately,” Gilda put a paw on the dancing griffon’s shoulders, “it seems that the mating dance doesn’t work. The good news is that you don’t need it.”

Gia still held her deadpan, bored stare. “New rule. Don’t try the mating dance.”

“Shut up, Gia.” Gilda smiled at the white tom and elbowed Gevorg.

“Oh. Right.” He coughed. “Good moves, but it’s not really needed. Instead, offer a compliment. And find a pleasant subject to have a conversation about.”

“I have another question!” Another tom raised his paw with an impatient glare after the other’s performance. A scrawny little dude with a shiny, deep brown pelt and latte feathers peppered with little brown dots. Yellow, unamused eyes and a bit of a frown. “What if we don’t have a partner?”

“Yeah.” Gia rolled her eyes. “Nobody ‘has a partner’ here. You’re meant to experiment, so you’re free to go around and meet others. If you really want it, one of the older queens will put up with you for the night. Just don’t expect one of them to carry a cub for you.”

Gilda raised her paw and caused Gia to sigh. “What?”

“That’s a thing?” Gilda raised an eyebrow at her own words.

“Yes. That is, indeed, a thing. Some of the young queens come here with that expectation. Sometimes an older griffoness will take the opportunity and help teach them. Some toms want it too, not necessarily with the whole faffing of getting mated. They’ll be just happy making a cub.” She turned back to the brown tom. “All you have to do is sit in the corner and look abandoned. One of them will find you eventually. Or just ask Lady Geena. She should be around soon. Plenty of Loremasters with a kink like that. If they ask you if you want to go to the private room, say you do.”

“Just go around and do mingling things. It’s going to click and before you know, you’ll be humping someone’s daughter. I recommend some alcohol, though. It greases the social gears.” The green griffoness started shooing them away with both paws. “Shooo! Go copulate with each other into oblivion. I got more clueless neophytes to induct into adulthood!”

Just as she said it, Lady Geena walked over with a sad stare about her, looking at Gia. “You’re missing the point, Miss Gia. Teaching the young is supposed to be fun.”

“She does have fun.” Gilda glared at the green Gia. “She just pretends she doesn’t.”

The younglings chuckled at Gilda’s accusation, and so did Lady Geena, but Gertha spoke in a piercing tone. “My theory is that Gia knows she is utterly unlikable, so she acts like this. In her head, it sounds as though she is willingly driving others away.”

“Sounds legit.” Georgia chirped, and the others nodded amid more giggles.

“Whatever.” Gia huffed. “Lady Geena, if you don’t mind giving me my assignment... Then I’ll find Geary. The rest of you try to miss me the rest of the night, please.”

“What is the point, though?” One of the young adults sighed. “My pa and my ma are in the next room doing lewd stuff with their friends and… Uh… What is so special about today? Why today and not whenever? Does it have anything to do with The Cry of The Harpy? That was cool, but… Uh…”

Geena, with her luscious cape of cyan silk and swan feathers, sat before them with a motherly smile and raised a finger before Gia could ruin it all. Somehow, she even kept her stately aura about her. “See, this is a good question.”

“The short of it is about traditions calling back to the olden days.” Geena smiled a little more broadly, with all their attention at her. “The Cry of The Harpy is a way for all griffons to understand the Harpy’s Commandment. And since all griffons will meet, at least once in their lives, Lady Gwendolen has seen fit to have the Meetings on the same night. Griffons are happy. Their moods are soaring with the festivities of the Gathering Storm. Makes sense, doesn’t it? Spirits are high and everyone is having fun.”

High was right… But Gilda kept her smile hidden and her thoughts to herself.

“All over Snow Mountains, griffons do the Meeting. Even if they are not in the Court of The Harpy, nothing is keeping them from participating with the others. But in Griffindell, the highest members of nobility do the Wild Hunt. Lord Gilad and Lady Gwendolen will lead their closest subordinates on a savage and dangerous hunt for some mythic wild animal. They will kill it and eat of its flesh, much as I consumed the raw heart in the ceremony. The blood has a euphoric effect on our brains. They let go of their inhibitions and simply ‘exist.’” She explained with the mellowest of smiles and the most mysterious of tones. Gilda saw it for what it was: another fish for griffons to jump at, higher than even the most powerful griffon of Frozenlake could reach. Such was the Cult of The Harpy. After every conquest, another bait, another more exclusive club to join. Not that Gilda thought it was a bad thing, and Lady Geena continued. “It is reminiscent of how griffons used to live before we civilized. The way Our Mother made us in our purest form.”

“It is dangerous.” Geena added a mischievous tone to her voice and smiled like she was sharing a secret. “The prey is dangerous. Most of all, griffons are dangerous, wild things that thrive on violence and taking lives. And while deaths are not supposed to happen, they are not unheard of, and injuries are quite common during the Wild Hunt. Settling grievances and giving in to lust is incredibly easy. You all know how it is. The very powerful have their proclivities. Some like special meats, others would like to indulge in particular tastes in sex.”

Gilda felt cheated. She had no memories of such things. “Uh… I don’t remember any of that.”

Geena giggled. “Well, that is because Lady Gwendolen introduced the idea in recent years.”

“Sounds like a life achievement!” Gertha piped, holding a flagon of wine in her paw. And Gilda rolled her eyes. She and Gertha had just played into Geena’s baiting.

Geena giggled again. “Well, the usual meetings of the Court call back to the wild orgies Emperor Grigor had with his courtiers in honor of The Harpy. That the general population mimicked. Celebrations with music, wine, and semen to last the whole week, in the palace or in the town square. It is a way The Harpy found to promote diversity among castes.” Geena shrugged. “In the end, don’t worry about it. Just have fun and let others have their fun.”

“How in the feather does an orgy honor a goddess?” One of the young griffons deadpanned. Vibrant bronze fur and white feathers, and a frowny stare of someone who smelled bullshit.

Geena smiled again and gestured to Gevorg. “A fair question. But, how about now that I have shared the official version, you tell them the common folk’s perception, Captain?”

Gevorg gave a nervous smile at being put on the spot like that, but went along when Geena encouraged him with a smile. He cleared his throat and hesitated for a second before speaking. Only after Geena told him to speak freely, he actually did. “Well… Ancient traditions, loremasters teaching the young, rites of passage... Some griffons say it’s hogwash. It’s ‘casual sex night.’ Griffons that rarely do it may do it, significant others that would normally forbid their mates may allow them. Lady Geena gets to pretend she’s not mated, and Lord Graham gets out of her way. Uncompromised griffons can indulge, griffons in stable unions can use it to get out of the routine. You’ll see mated couples using it as an excuse to go wild, even if only among them. All flavors of horny included. The thing is that life is too short, and we’re supposed to live it… I just think The Harpy is about as horny as we are.”

“Perfect.” Lady Geena grinned with a gesture, offering his explanation to them as Gilda grinned at just how brutally honest he was. Better yet, Lady Geena agreed. The local lady still had more to say yet, though. “Now, if you will excuse me, I must talk to Lady Gilda and the young griffons under her charge privately.”

Oh boy, here it comes. Something in between the lines, business as usual. Gilda remained calm, even though the siblings immediately tensed and shared worried stares. Gertha elbowed Gevorg and giggled at him. “Come on, Captain. I’m in the way of the blue-blooded griffons, and I’m too scared to be left alone in this place.”

He chuckled and followed her, with Grunhilda trailing behind. The other griffons that had been listening cleared away. Couples smiled at each other and solitary griffons went their ways to hunt. The cute white ‘dancer’ found himself with a cute blue queen talking to him. Gilda stayed with the sneaky loremaster and the two siblings. The pair glared, two sets of beautiful eyes, not friendly at Lady Geena, but the loremaster smiled. “I must ask something that may not be entirely befitting of the culture you have grown up with, younglings.”

“No.” Georgia spat plainly.

“But I have not even said what it is!” Geena’s surprised outburst made Gilda chuckle as her dignified visage changed for pure surprise. Gilda let the siblings handle whatever it was.

“I will not mate with my brother, you psycho!” Georgia growled, much to Gilda’s and Geena’s surprise, but the latter pouted in the most innocent way possible under Georgia’s angry growls. “Or any weirdo I haven’t met since I was a cub!”

“That is not what I was going to ask! We rarely do that in the North either!” Geena glared at the younger queen, but rather than continuing, she smiled and shook her head. “I need something from you before you meet your dates.”

“Is this some jus primae noctis bullshit?” Geena’s words didn’t disarm Georgia and the younger one let her wings rise. Enough to be rude, but not outright aggressive. “Because the answer is still no! Geez! You wanted mom to pledge to mate me to some dude before I was even a teenager during the training camp! I remember that!”

“Why don’t we just let Lady Geena tell us what she needs, Georgia?” Godwin shot an irritated gaze at his sister. “She wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

But instead of pushing forward her request, Geena backed down. To Gilda’s surprise. The white griffoness put forward her paws and smiled most graciously. “It’s no matter. It can wait. I can’t tell you what it is, but I can assure you it is very important. Harmless and not dangerous at all. Therefore, I would like both of you to consider honoring my request. I know I haven’t told you yet, but give me a chance. Lady Gilda should escort you to see me before you engage with your dates. I will be in the side room. To the right after the altar, before the second great hall. You should take them with you… I do not wish for them to be disheartened and think you fled from them.”

Geena needed something. That much was clear. And she needed it so hard she was not willing to let them deny it on an impulse. She wanted to dodge the knee-jerk reaction and have them go to her, rather than try coming to them. Most important, she included Gilda, who Geena knew might have an interest in a favor. And the sneaky catbird was right. She probably didn’t know about the hippogriffs, but whatever it was Geena wanted, she would give Gilda a free wish for her help in getting whatever she wanted from the siblings.

Yeah… If the stupid fight in the caravan had been Griffonning one-oh-one, Geena was Gilda’s teacher for Advanced Griffoning.

With their exchange concluded, Miss Geena graciously excused herself. “Even tonight I must see to some important matters. Please enjoy the festivities. And please, kindly mind my request.”

As she walked away, Gilda decided another drink was in order. Maybe two with all the drama. She started with them on the way to the table with the liquid courage and the siblings followed Gilda like cubs might follow their mother.

“Holy Georgia…” Godwin frowned at his sister as they walked. “You could have been nicer to Lady Geena.”

“Nope!” The sister shook her head emphatically. “Once we cross the ‘please marry my friend’s son once you are of age’ line, we’re done.”

They argued back and forth while Gilda guided them to where Grunhilda, Gevorg, and Gertha waited at the table. Thoughts refused to leave Gilda’s mind, though. In the end, what Gevorg’s earnest appraisal failed to see was that it was, yet again, another way The Harpy controlled griffons. And some griffons liked to play the game within the game, like Lady Geena. Yet, even she did as The Harpy wanted. Gilda could bet her tail whatever she wanted involved some kink. Several lessons to be learned. It was probably intentional too that it picked Gilda’s curiosity.

“Heh. I’ll be damned if it isn’t working…” Gevorg asked Gilda what she had said, but the tan griffoness only winked at him and turned her attention to the table. There was a reason all that alcohol was present, and it seemed more convenient each minute. And there was the table itself, though. Sturdy and hefty as though they expected griffons to be doing things tables normally shouldn’t have to withstand. Or maybe the alcohol was already twisting her thoughts, and she saw sex everywhere.

There was also the centerpiece. A giant ice sculpture of a beautiful couple of young griffons dancing. Open wings, happy, singing beaks open and lots and lots of naughty details, from cute little nipples to the dude sporting a boner.

“Huh... I guess it fits?” Gertha chuckled.

“I hope so.” Grunhilda added. “It looks big.”

“No. It’s not that big.” The pink mercenary retorted mindlessly.

“Wait, what?” Godwin gasped.

“Don’t say these things, Gertha.” Gilda calmly reached for a flagon of mead. “You’ll sap the kid’s confidence.”

“I’m not… You know what? Never mind.”

“I kinda like it…” Georgia blushed, examining the images. “I mean, as an artist, of course.”

“Yes, there is a certain aesthetic quality to them that is greatly appealing in an emotional sense. A dynamic fluidity in their movement, in contrast to the guttural, base desire they represent.” Godwin raised a finger. “Still, it shows a dynamic levity represented in the dance that is both opposite and fitting to the act of carnal consummation.”

Godwin got some chuckles, speaking with a stuffy voice and a faux-arrogant expression of disinterest. Then Georgia’s new artist friend from the fair arrived showing precisely the same expression Godwin had. Except not ironically. “Yes!”

“Yes!” The artist griffon propped his orange self in front of the statue, flared wings and gesturing to it with his thin forelegs. As though he wanted to hog all the second-paw embarrassment to himself. But he changed to a faux-servile and submissive bow to Georgia. “That is it! The very essence of the Meeting of the Court of The Harpy! Why I used you as my inspiration, my muse!”

The griffon guy sat and lowered himself before Georgia and her furiously blushing cheeks, holding her paws in his own. “Georgia! Hear the new name of the Griffon Muse of Perfection! I should never have sold this to Lady Geena for a couple of dozens of Electrums! I should have gifted it to you! It is perfect!”

“Dude, I was speaking ironically…” Godwin went unheard.

Funny that the artist guy at his tent in the feast seemed much more collected. The smell of alcohol explained it, though. Not that Georgia minded smiling at him with a soft gasp. Too busy gawking at the orange griffon to realize he was talking about the statue, and not her.

Gertha came to Gilda in a whisper. “Oof. Douchebag alert.”

“Whatever.” Gilda whispered back and shrugged. “It’s just a dude to pop Georgia’s cherry. Just let them have fun.”

With that said, the pink griffoness and Gilda turned to the two lovebirds. He still talked about the ice sculpture, and Georgia kept staring lovingly at him. Yeah, Gilda’s bullshit detector kept beeping inside her head, but it was not her business, and the dude was quite attractive. Gertha seemed less convinced. With a frown she then forced into a smile, approaching the two.

“Hey, I suppose you two are ready to have some fun.” The pink griffoness said it as though it was not awkward and then she herded the couple towards one bed. The artist bird put a wing over Georgia’s back as they walked with Gertha behind them. A stray thought made Gilda wonder if the adults were supposed to make rounds looking for young griffons having issues. Truth be told, she felt like she was in excess in that place as the young barely needed help to get naughty. Was she doing the northerner thing right?

“Is it wrong that I don’t want that dude touching my sister?” Godwin sat next to Gilda.

“I guess not, but it’s not your choice. You heard Lady Geena. And just because he has a high opinion of his work, he’s not a bad griffon. Heck, these statues look amazing. Most importantly, he knows lewd stuff and can make Georgia happy tonight. It’s about getting experience, I guess. Or better yet, experiencing, learning.” Gilda turned around to talk to him, and her eyes widened. “What the feather?”

Behind Godwin stood five young queens of different colors and sizes. He, too, gasped when he turned around to see. An older version of each accompanied Godwin’s suitors, and Gilda supposed they were mothers and older sisters. The pearly-rose Gilda had seen a few times with Godwin was in the middle. An entire rainbow of cute griffon ladies had crept up on them while Georgia’s date had them distracted. The collection of young ladies shuffled with uncertainty, shifting from staring at Godwin, Gilda and themselves with worried eyes.

“Godwin, my man!” Gevorg laughed and punched Godwin on the shoulder. Gilda laughed. The older griffonesses Gilda supposed were mothers or older sisters laughed too. The young ones didn’t laugh, though, and stared at each other like they were about to jump at each other’s throats. Speaking of griffons learning how to griffon…

“So, you want to draw straws or something?” The others laughed with Gilda again.

“I brought a gift!” The rosy cutie beamed. Her pink eyes shone, and she raised a little white box in her paws like it was the Idol of Boreas.

“Do I get to say anything about this?” Godwin glared at them.

“Unfortunately, no, cub.” A big northerner, with a muscular build of a soldier or a hunter, all blue and with yellow eyes like an eagle, put a paw on Godwin’s shoulder. “Nobody is going to believe you if you say you don’t want all five. It’s also not a matter of who, but when. And it’s Lady Gilda who gets to decide, being your guardian.”

“Shocker…” He groused sarcastically.

“Well, the gift I brought,” Rosy-pearly started with a huge winning grin, “is for Lady Gilda.”

“Now we’re talking!” Gilda beamed and put out her paws to get her gift promptly delivered.

“This is unfair!” A lanky, black and tall griffon lady whined. The others complained, their mothers laughed. Griffons will be griffons.

Opening the little white box with a pink ribbon, Gilda found a cute golden feather nestled on a little white cushion inside. She grinned and stuck the accessory to her feathers on her crest and smiled at Godwin. “How do I look?”

“Like you stuck a golden feather to your head.” He rolled his eyes.

“You look pretty!” Grunhilda giggled.

“If I knew I was supposed to bring a gift, I would have brought a better one!” A watermelon-y green and pink griffoness complained.

“Why don’t we just make a big orgy?” The shorter, pudgier one of Godwin’s applicants spoke almost as though she meant not to be heard. A cute, and rather round, young thing. Covered with yellow like burnt sand and white that really regretted being heard, looking away and taking a step back.

“I like the way you think!” Gilda grinned. Inside, she sighed. The alcohol really started working its magic in her head.

Oh, well… Don’t go out in the rain if you don’t want to get wet. Or something. She supposed she ought to escort Godwin and his little pride to Lady Geena and see what it was she wanted.