Anchor Foal II: Return Of The Cringe

Zephyr considered himself to be a creature of the night, and that was why he currently (and absolutely) hated being awake under Moon's too-soft glow. Trying to make his way through the same park, in the dark, on hoof because... well, because realistically, if you were having enough trouble seeing to make trotting through an area difficult, you really shouldn't be flying through it. Even invoking the thermal side of his vision wasn't helping much. It was possible to spot some of the animals that way, but...

Trees had their own temperature. The outer -- bark? -- mostly matched whatever the air was doing, but the core of a tree held steady at the level of a really nice day in late spring. And that seemed to hold true no matter what the tree looked like on the outside. They all had the same inner heat.

It was a little weird, especially when compared to the outright chill of clouds: something which made the life which resided upon them stand out all the more. In the park (which might as well be an all-out forest once you left the paths, or a wild zone), there was a constant background level of warmth. The fine shades of inphrārēḍa and beyond were -- everywhere. And between unexpected thermal sabotage, the fact that Moon could probably shine a lot brighter than this if it wanted to, and stupid overhead leaves intercepting what little of that light there was...

Picking out the path again was turning into work.

And he was already on-shift.

His parents -- and why did so much of the weather team want to hear about them? All IST stories were exactly the same, including the part where they took place really far away and you had to leave your kids for --

-- anyway, one of the many things about being international stormbreakers was that his parents didn't exactly have regular work hours. They went out when the government (or someone's government) said they had to, and came back at some point after it was all over. It was possible for them to get time off, and that was a blessing directly from Sun because everypony needed to do something which wasn't work. ('Sometimes' at a minimum, with 'never work again' as the ideal -- but even with the best plans, you usually had to do an almost ironic amount of work to get there.) And if they hadn't been able to take vacations -- well, no sensible stallion wanted to think about his parents' sex lives too much, but he'd heard a lot of stories and then done some rather basic math. No rest stop in Yakyakistan to recover strength before heading back, and the world would be suffering from a total lack of Zephyr. As much to the point, Zephyr would be suffering the same lack, and he wasn't sure how to deal with that.

No scheduled shifts, because emergencies didn't seem to have those. Instead, IST members were permanently considered to be On Summons. They were expected to keep their skills sharp: extra training time, regular reviews, and a few light sessions with the local weather team were usually considered to be enough. But outside of those requirements -- an IST pegasus went to work when someone was potentially going to die. Maybe a lot of someones. And they never seemed to think about the fact that one, or even two, of those deaths might wind up being --

-- his parents had always come home.
Some IST ponies didn't.
Everypony knew that.
So why would his parents just keep leaving?
Over and over again, while the kids...
...waited.

Maybe his parents had just been lucky. And nopony could be lucky forever -- well, almost nopony. There was a mark which guaranteed that kind of luck, but it was once a generation at best and Zephyr didn't have it. Not that he usually minded too much, because his own mark had gotten him this far -- although he'd recently taken to reminding the icon that if it wanted some version of normalcy back, it really needed to start putting in some more effort.

Or maybe it was. Marks worked in strange ways, and it wasn't as if his had ever tried to talk back --

-- stormbreakers went when and where somepony told them to -- but if the global atmospherics were relatively calm, then there was a chance for several moons to pass between disasters. Zephyr, who was currently, reluctantly, and rather more normally -- employed... had assigned hours.

And they kept changing.

It was apparently some sort of rule. The weather schedule covered a full cycle, every cycle. Rookies needed to learn all of the fine details, along with how they were applied across all of the shifts.

In direct practice: if the Sphere had assigned a certain set of conditions to be present when Sun was raised, then Moon got to watch Zephyr suffer through setting a few of them up.

He'd already been at the Too Bucking Early team meeting, and the part which had really stung was that the boss hadn't been there. The briefing had been given by Thunderpain (and in an additional cruel twist of fate, it turned out that the older stallion's mane just looked like that when he got out of bed at night too). Zephyr had gotten the impression that having somepony take over for the boss at awkward hours was a fairly common event. And he totally understoood not showing up Too Bucking Early for work, along with the whole 'rank has privileges' thing -- but it had ruined what he'd been hoping would be the best part of the experience: seeing how the cyan streak looked when she had to be up at that hour. It didn't even have to be all that good. There was a certain honest appeal in a rumpled mess, especially when you knew it could be groomed right out again. Or preened.

Not having the boss present for predawn meetings didn't feel like a particularly rare occurrence. And from what the others had been saying before Thunderpain showed up...

Get a great view. And then his thoughts went (justifiably) sulky. Lose a great view.

Maybe. It didn't sound like anything was settled yet. But it wouldn't have surprised Zephyr. The low-altitude world as a whole seemed to be surprisingly cruel and the lower you went, the meaner it got. To snatch that away from him...

Then again, maybe that was his cue to operate a little more quickly.

Not that he had the chance right now. Because work. And, very much to the immediate point, because griffon.

She'd arranged for the current meeting time, and had done so while not showing the least bit of caring about what it meant to him. Futhermore, she'd done so before Zephyr had been told that his rookie duties were going to have him awake under Moon -- at one of his favorite hours, and now that was ruined too.

Under normal circumstances -- the ones he was fighting so hard to restore -- Zephyr loved seeing this final segment of night. Because to be awake in this part of the cycle usually meant you'd been having a good time. The party had gone on, the mares had been pretty, and the fun just hadn't stopped. Still, the good time had to end eventually, because you sort of needed rest if you were going to have another one later.

So... if he was leaving the party at this kind of hour, and things hadn't gone perfectly enough to let him be following a mare home... then in Cloudsdale, he might just find himself with certain things to himself. Like Cloudsdale. Be in the right section of town, staying away from the night workers because those poor souls needed all the peace they could get, and it was possible to wind up as the only pony in the air paths. Looking down at a whole city of happy homes and sleeping kids, resting in protected peace.

It was a beautiful thing. Zephyr loved the experience of it. Being with a mare was better, but a quiet moment of perfect serenity under Moon wasn't the worst consolation prize.

So he'd pause. Drink in the night. Sure, you only had so much lifetime, but what was a better use for it than appreciating beauty of all kinds?

Sometimes he'd maintain a degree of hover until Sun started to come over the horizon.

And then he'd go to bed.

Zephyr loved the deep night -- if it was the last thing he saw before he went to sleep. Having had to get out of bed in order to reach it was taking a certain something off the experience. And having had to sneak off...

He'd actually gotten lucky there. Thunderpain was temporarily in charge, and that meant he hadn't been able to pair up with Zephyr for the night. Pretty Good-Looking Stallion Boss (not that Zephyr was attracted, but you had to acknowledge what worked) was stuck in the office until Real Boss finally showed up. Zephyr had been given a solo assignment, and so hadn't had to create an excuse to get away for an hour. Still -- the griffon really needed to consider his needs, including the one where he'd finally have a reliable way to contact her. Previous experience told him it was pretty easy to fake a temporarily illness once, but if you had to keep skipping out...

Zephyr had forced himself to conduct some basics in his assigned area. (He was paying more attention to the local weather now, because he had also been forced to take completely unfair responsibility for a portion of it. And it had just occurred to him that he might be able to request the park for a future assignment because if he had to work anyway and meet the griffon here, then he could at least arrange for a little extra meteorological personal comfort.) Enough so that if somepony did check on him, they'd see effort had already taken place and probably just conclude he'd temporarily flown off to find a friendly toilet trench. And then he'd headed for the park. Skipping out on some degree of work, while still getting paid for that time.

The tiercel often acted like he worked for her.

Which meant he was doing work, while at work, in the middle of dodging work. And only getting financially compensated for half of it. The less crucial half.

An intelligent stallion could get a headache from thinking about that one too much. As bad of one as he was getting from trying to maneuver through the night-blackened vegetation.

He moved his hooves languidly. You didn't want to shift your legs with too much force when you couldn't be sure of what they might contact at the other end. There were things to dread in the forest.

But there wasn't much point in looking for the worst of the hazards. It was too dark to see much of anything within the grass and when it came to heat, corpses cooled quickly.

The fierce, six-limbed breathing fire stalked through the night, blazing brightly through the half-shroud of cooler trees. And Zephyr watched.

He wasn't quite in range to call out yet, and saw very little need. She was -- clearly busy.

...were griffons nocturnal, and that was why she'd wanted to meet him at this hour? Probably not: they'd met during the day before this. But just about anyone could probably change their waking schedule if they forced it...

Maybe they were at least a little nocturnal. Or it could depend on the griffon. Component parts. Wasn't there some kind of bird which was most active at night? His sister would probably know, because useless information was most of what she had. So if there was a griffon whose avian portions came from that bird --

-- he didn't know and if he'd ever learned it, then he didn't remember. That usually meant it wasn't important.

(Or maybe it hadn't been important until just now.)

But he could see her, when she probably couldn't see him. (He was almost sure there hadn't been anything in International Studies about griffon vision, but... he could barely remember International Studies as a course title.) Watching her heat as the body moved, and she was warm indeed. Noticeably hotter than a pegasus, to the point where she shone within the trees -- or rather, within the grass and between the bases of the -- he was almost sure the word was 'trunks'. But in thermal sight, the strangest thing was the beak. It -- kept changing shades. Shifting up and down the scale, and seemingly doing so in response to the ambient temperature. Zephyr didn't know why.

He also wasn't sure why she was so low to the ground, especially for someone who had wings. (There were ways in which the tiercel was an extremely alien form of life -- but at least her presence didn't make him continually fight the urge to check her flanks for amputation scars.) Keeping her entire body down, as the thermal trail of the tail (which went all the way to the tuft, and then stopped) wiggled a little. It was like she was looking for something she'd dropped in what he felt had been fairly tall grass --

-- he heard a rustle, instinctively glanced in that direction: left and down, in front of the griffon. Something small, quadrupedal, the tail shape was weird in a different way but it was definitely warm and alive and starting to move away --

-- the griffon pounced.

Liquid heat sprayed across the grass. A faint, oddly-shaped protrusion of warmth extended from the variable heat hues of the beak...

There were spots of steadier warmth on the beak now, and the tongue. But they cooled quickly, Just like the motionless remnant was doing on the cold ground, as keratin-coated bone edges tore at flesh and the fever of life found its final cure.

Because this was where it all ended.

Dead forever, on the ground --

"-- you're not as quiet as you think you are," arrived as a sort of temporarily-satiated low purr.

He did his best to swallow back the acidic tide, and felt the bile burn his throat.

The vomit had been forced into retreat, at least for the moment. But he couldn't seem to move, and he didn't understand why.

"Would it help," asked the bemused purr, "if I told you it wasn't a pet? Because we look for collars. For grooming." She paused. "And we also memorize every animal which ponies might keep as pets, and then we don't eat those. Because we're keeping most of them as pets ourselves. Plus it didn't talk. That's the other rule, right? The international one. If it talks, you don't eat it."

She paused. It was possible to hear her licking the grass.

"So maybe," the tiercel wickedly added, "this might be a really good time for you to say something."

"I --"

"-- for the sake of the Treaty Of Menagerie," she cut him off, "let's say that counts."

More of the fast-cooling blood soaked into the ground. The tiercel's beak went to work.

She was going to have blood on her beak when she raised her head into normal sight. So much blood --

-- she was just eating. He was trying to tell himself that it was just normal eating. And there were no mindless cries of agony coming up from the base of the swaying blades. She hadn't tormented her prey. She was just -- rending a corpse. Over and over.

The tiercel ate. Then she straightened, pulled herself up to her full height, and moved towards him. There was something about the way she moved. Half of it was a sort of ground-based power glide being done with paws and talons. The rest vaguely reminded the pegasus of watching somepony get out of bed. Right after they'd shared it with him.

Zephyr's frozen legs did a magnificent job of holding unwanted ground, and he thought to congratulate them. But it still really should have been sky.

"So let's talk," the griffon said. "Mutual update."

"We..." He swallowed again, and instantly regretted it. There was just enough of Moon's lights to make the reflections off the griffon's beak look oddly -- liquid.

"We?" It almost came across as a tease.

"We should do something about that."

"...need a better way to arrange stuff," Zephyr forced out. "Meeting times. Maybe places. My... work hours keep changing. I'm supposed to be on shift right now..."

She shrugged. "Next time you're in the office, get a look at the master schedule. I can tell you where she probably keeps it. That'll have your hours written out a moon in advance." And, before he could say anything, "Not that you want to be at this for a whole moon, right? But we don't have to keep using the park. I could always just drop by your place. If you think that's private enough."

Where is she staying?

He could ask the question, and maybe the answer would even be suitable for hooking -- for meeting up. But it would probably just make her press all the harder on his current quarters. Unless...

...how much did she know?

She can't know.

"It isn't," Zephyr said.

"And I'll take your word for it," she offered with openly false magnanimity. "So let's talk. Mutual update."

The griffon had just said that --

-- maybe it had been for emphasis.

"What have you learned?" she asked. And waited --

-- for about two seconds.

Talons raked across cold soil.

"Talk," the griffon suggested. "Let's start with anything you've picked up on the job. And don't take too long. Still not my problem if you're late getting back. And it's spring. They'll start checking on you when Sun's here, and Sun-raising is going to be earlier than you might think. And a little earlier every day."

Which would mean having to see the fresh blood in two ways...

Zephyr talked. The griffon listened and at first, she looked -- well, it was still hard for him to tell, but the slight sagging of her eyelids suggested the upper half of her head was somewhat bored.

Then he got her attention.

The wings flared out to full span, doing so as the tail twitched and golden eyes went wide.

"Might be leaving," she said. "You're sure?"

"It's not a rumor," Zephyr quickly clarified. "The Sphere ponies already had her at the Canterlot offices. She's got some kind of --" what had the weather team ponies said? He really hadn't paid full attention, and that totally wasn't his fault. Learning he might lose his view before getting the chance to experience the closeup version hadn't exactly been happy news. How was anypony supposed to concentrate on listening after that?

"Some kind of what?" demanded the irritated tiercel.

"Part-time job," was the best Zephyr could do. It felt accurate and at the moment, that was just as good as being accurate. "Somewhere else. And the Sphere wants her to pick. This or that."

She took a deep, satisfied breath.

"Good," the griffon exhaled.

"You think so?" more or less slipped out. Of course, it wasn't as if she had to worry about losing a perfectly great view, and obviously any chance at sex had been forfeited at the moment of griffon birth -- hatching?

It probably wasn't important. Even to the griffons.

"I think it could be," she considered. "I've got to think about how to use it, though. Right now, it's just another possible avenue. But that could sunder a few chains."

She stopped. The golden eyes unfocused.

"...unchained..." she considered.

The beak was slightly open now. Not at the level which represented a smile. Just -- hanging there.

There was a little more light available: not Sun on the approach just yet, but Moon having been guided into a better position. It gave him a clear look at the blood-spotting, across beak and feathers and some of the fur. He tried to make himself look at something else --

-- her grooming was somewhat better than it had been at their first encounter. Still nowhere near what he would have considered acceptable for his own person, but she'd clearly made some degree of effort. He decided to take it as a compliment. Not that he was interested --

-- the beak closed. She blinked.

Guess she really needed the food.

"Give me some time on that one," the tiercel said -- and followed it with an order. "And find out all you can about the details on why she might be cut loose. And where this other job is."

It was like she thought he worked for her. They both had goals -- even if he still wasn't fully sure what hers were. Just that if she got what she wanted, then so did he. So at worst, it should be a partnership. Or maybe he should be the one giving the --

-- admittedly, being in charge was basically work. Anypony who had a sister that couldn't look after herself would understand that.

Still, it was easiest to leave things as they were for now. And when it came to getting things back to how they should be...

He wasn't sure this was going to -- this word was coming up way too much -- work. He certainly hadn't seen any direct benefits yet. So if the tiercel wasn't making any progress towards Zephyr's ambitions, then...

"Anything else?" the griffon quickly asked. "How about the little giant? Any information on her?"

"Yes," was as far as she initially let him get.

"Oooh," she teased. "The quinella bet may actually come through for once! We're going to have first and second place! What did you get?"

He passed it on. She listened. He wondered where her ears were. There was no visible structure. He'd grown up among ponies, and the lack of griffon outer ears was just one more thing which made it hard to read her expressions.

"Recent arrival," she finally summarized. "About sixteen, seventeen moons. A veterinary student who's getting practical experience with live-in classes." Paused. "And there was something about monsters where nopony's got the full details, but most of the town thinks she was going out with your sister before that."

"I don't know what she did to my sister," Zephyr tightly said.

The unicorn laughed at me.

Because since when was his sister interested in -- well, anypony? She was too frightened to be in a relationship. Frightened of -- everything.

...well, everything important.

Not that Zephyr had anypony at the moment. But he could always get somepony for a night, if he really wanted to. (Anypony who refused hadn't been wanted enough.) And when it came to the long-haul flight, you needed to find the right mare. The one who could pull the air carriage with you in it. And if that wasn't going to be romantic, then --

"-- veterinary student," the griffon pondered, and there was something questioning in the tone. "That -- feels like it's... a little off to the side. But -- maybe..."

"So anyway," Zephyr began, "if there's nothing else --"

The wings briefly spread, and feathers went through an irritated rustle. "I heard a couple of things myself."

"Like what?"

"For starters? She's supposedly from -- Drayton."

The griffon now seemed to be waiting for something.

"Drayton," she irritably repeated. "Dray-ton. And you're just going to stand there with that 'Huh?' look, like you're just waiting for someone to answer the question you didn't ask. Does anything about that name sound familiar, colt? And if it doesn't, would you just go and say that? Or do you really want me to try spelling it first? Because I can speak and read Equestrian, but your spelling is weird."

If you went around looking like you wanted a question answered, then you usually didn't have to ask one. Some ponies would just try to help. Being helped was not only like being given stuff for free, but could quickly (and deservedly) escalate to Actual Freebies.

Zephyr was completely familiar with both that philosophy and the more positive side of its results. And it proved he wasn't stupid, because it was amazing how many ponies lacked the intellect to reach the utterly sensible conclusion.

"It's a place, right?" he technically tried, and watched her face for signs of confirmation. It didn't help. He couldn't read that either. "In -- Equestria?"

She snorted. The rigid nostrils gave the sound an odd touch of reverb.

The followup of "Oh, talons and claws," was just barely audible. "At least the other one's a good listener..."

"Huh?" Zephyr expertly reasoned.

He felt he knew the next look. It was almost the degree of beak parting which represented a smile.
Almost.

"We're both looking for information," she said. "I've picked up my own source. It might be useful later. Especially if she wants it back."

"Huh?" was practically guaranteed to get a response the second time around --

"I'll tell you," she abruptly snapped as the tufted tail lashed, "once you need to know. Which isn't just yet. Drayton. Ever heard of it?"

"I'm really sure it's in Equestria," Zephyr proposed.

(He wasn't. He'd never heard of it. But where else was a unicorn going to come from? Prance?)

"...perfect," the tiercel muttered. "So now I've got to find out if it's the dual paperwork..."

"Huh?" Third time paid for all, or so a lot of ponies said. And why would they keep saying that if it wasn't true?

She ignored him.
He hated it when anypony ignored him.
'Anyone' wasn't an improvement.

"It doesn't matter just yet," she half-snapped, and the bloodied beak clacked. "I'll let you know when it does," The huge eyes narrowed, just a little. "Or maybe you'll let me know. Because it's time to try something."

"Like what?" He was sure he had a few ideas. He just needed the time in which to express them. Preceding that with the chance to think would also help --

"You've been at this for a little while," the griffon almost casually noted. "Good, newly hardworking member of whatever this stupid society is supposed to be. Showing you can fit in. And it would be nice if we could give you some more time to sell that, but -- there's a chance you'll change bosses soon, right?" Even under Moon, the golden eyes briefly seemed to brighten. "So we've got to start now, in case there's a new one who decides to switch up some of the more recent hires."

"Start what?" had been meant to sound exactly that frustrated. Because it felt so much as if she was treating him as somepony who was stupid...

"You're pretending to change," the tiercel said, "because you want in. You want a way into that cottage, and back to your sister. You do still want in, right? And to never be closed out again?"

She needs me.
She needs me.
I need...

Perhaps the tiny dip of his ears had been enough of a response for her. He hated that. And he'd just felt his mane shift.

"You need access to the cottage," his supposed partner stated. "And we both need more information. You're the one who can get it directly from the source. So you're going to have a talk with Fleur."