Go With the Flow

~~~

Flowing, Star, and Captain Misty all exited out into the bright sun as quickly as they could.

Flowing hopped off Starry’s back when they were close to the guard-rail looking down over the ocean, quickly scanning the waters for any signs of movement. There was a swirling motion in the water around them, waves cast up that did not seem to match any natural ebb and flow, and instead indicated... Something else, stirring them up.

Captain Misty was surrounded by a few members of his crew, griffons and ponies alike, all speaking over each other in a panicked slurry of voices. From their tones, it was clear that none of them really knew what was going on, but they weren’t getting anywhere with the current trajectory of conversation.

Flowing looked to the skies, dreading the sight of an airship looming close, but thankfully there was nothing but sky and thin, wispy clouds above them.

Beneath, the ship shuddered again, harder than any of the previous occurences. Ponies were swept off their hooves, some even had to use the guardrail to not go falling into the drink below. The griffons and the few pegasi who could fly had already done so, taking to the air and hovering above the deck of the cargo ship. Something felt as though it was being dragged slowly against the hull, like a mighty claw scratching against the metal beneath.

“There’s something alive down there,” Flowing said. She didn’t say it very loudly, but it seemed the intense words, spoken by the strange creature, was enough to cast them into silence all the same.

They looked among eachother and at Flowing. None of them spoke up until Star Point himself did.

“How do you know it’s not a rock or a reef?”

“Too unsteady,” Flowing replied. “If it was a fixed surface, we’d be striking it in a rhythm, with the waves. And look...” she pointed a fin into the waters, swirling and uneasy. “Don’t look like any normal waves to me.”

The crew of the ship shared another look, and several of them had joined Flowing, peering over the side of the ship into the depths below.

“Gonna go take a look.” She put both of her fins onto the guardrail, propping herself up with her tail and preparing to dive in, but Star stopped her by wrapping both of his hooves around her torso.

“Oh no ya don’t.”

“Lemme go, Starry. I need to see what’s down there.”

“Like Tartarus you do.” Star Point shook his head firmly. “C’mon, let’s--”

If there was more to Star’s statement, it was lost as the ship suddenly keeled upwards, like something had lifted it from beneath. The bow of the ship seemed to raise upwards into the sky, for but a moment, and the unspeaking silence on the deck was broken by the sound of various affairs clattering about from the commotion with the nearby superstructure.

In the cacophony, Star’s grip on her lessened, and Flowing took the opportunity to kick her tail against the deck of the ship, and send herself flying over the guardrail. She sailed for a few moments through open air, bracing herself just as she struck the water and submerged, tail fin already churning the water urgently. She could faintly hear Star crying out her name and demanding her ‘come back to the gods damned ship!’, and while it pained her to hear his voice with such indignation and urgency in it, Starry’s cries were quickly hidden the further into the blue water she sunk.

Stupid, she knew. She was being stupid, and reckless, and he’d be furious with her when she resurfaced no doubt. But she couldn’t just sit around and wait for whatever was done there to keep on harassing the poor cargo ship!

The water this far out was darker than it had been when they’d stopped at the lighthouse. It made it a little harder for Flowing to see, and she imagined the others watching the little pinprick of light from her angler lamp vanishing into the depths as she swam on. The entire water surrounding them seemed murkier than normal, as if something enormous had been stirring up sand far below them. In fact, she figured that was exactly what was happening.

And then, she saw it. It had eased into view from the veil of sandy waters, visible at first only as a mass of movement swishing through the murkiness. Then, a pointed head--like that of a large great white shark, but with an elongated snout and a squid-like spade shape at the tip. A tall, jutting dorsal fin rose above it, the same general shape as a shark’s, complimented by similarly shark-like pectoral fins.

In place of a shark’s tail, however, was a great mass of tendrils trailing behind it, idly swishing away at the water. They all appeared to be strong and prehensile, but at the moment they were simply flowing behind, as it instead used them to swim. There could have been a dozen tentacles for all she knew, it was hard to really say with the creature in lumbering, terrifying motion. The entire creature was the size of Star Point’s fishing trawler, and while it was technically a good deal smaller than the cargo ship above, Flowing had little doubt in her mind that it would be able to drag it into the depths without much effort.

Flowing could see her angler light reflected in it’s single enormous squid’s eye, glaring back at her with intelligence and greed in equal measure.

“Ah,” she breathed out, bubbles floating to the surface. “That tracks.”

The eye narrowed as it focused in on the single little pinprick of light looking back at it. Easy prey, a tempting little appetizer, no doubt. Flowing didn’t really stick around to ask if it preferred its fish with or without soy sauce, she was already furiously beating the water with her tail by time she could feel the tell-tale sign of rapid changes in water pressure as it began to swim furiously towards her.

She did not want to breach and have it collide with the cargo ship in it’s pursuit of her, though. Instead, just as she came close to the ship, she banked off, swimming downwards into the depths for a few feet. Then, she banked again, and breached, knowing that the sudden change in momentum would at the very least prevent the beast from striking the cargo ship too hard.

Flowing was flooded back into the bright sun as she broke out of the waves, and when she did there were already a few griffons waiting for her. She was grateful, since she wasn’t sure her little manoeuvre would have given her enough speed to actually make it back onto the ship as it was.

She was dumped into Star Point’s hooves on the deck of the cargo ship, and before he had any time to berate her the creature hit the underside of the ship, sending it keeling over violently. Any harder, and it might have been enough to capsize them... Already, Flowing was glad she’d taken the extra step to try and eliminate some of the force of its impact.

“It’s a lusca,” Flowing panted out, as so soon as Star had recovered from the keeling of the ship and resumed gripping her possessively, clearly worried she’d jump over the side of the ship once again. “Territorial buggers... And rare, too. Unlucky, seeing one here.”

“The... Things we were talking about earlier,” Star Point said. Behind him, Flowing could see the other ponies and griffons looking on intently. “Grabber sharks."

“Yeah. Dunno why it’s taken issue with your ship, but, uh...” she looked sympathetically at Captain Misty. “But we’re gonna need to chase it off, I think.”

“...Chase it off.”

“Yeah. Like I said... territorial bunch, luscas. What it’s doing... It’s trying to warn you to leave,” Flowing explained. “Those were warning hits.”

Captain Misty nodded rapidly. “Well, I’ve pulled anchor. I’m already getting us out of here full throttle...”

“But it’s a cargo ship,” Star said. “We won’t really be movin’ away very quickly.”

“Not quickly enough. Luscas... Angry ones, anyways... Ain’t as patient as they are mean,” Flowing said. “Assumin' ya don’t have a lot of things to fight it off on board, eh?”

Captain Misty shook his head sadly. “Few harpoons, maybe? Nothin’ suited to fighting a sea monster.”

Flowing gave a single nod. “Then I’ll go back in. I’ll chase it away.”

“Oh no you won’t!” Star replied, and Flowing felt his grip around her tighten. “Just about gave me a heart attack!”

“Ma’am, if there’s a beast in there... You’re safer in here than...” Captain Misty jerked his head towards the depths. The entire time he did, Flowing was half expecting that enormous sharktopus head to come breaching through the waves behind him any moment, or a tentacle to grip him and pull him over the deck. Safe here her fishy behind.

“No I’m not,” Flowing said. “Listen, Starry. Not tryna be rude, but we’re safer if you let me do my thing.”

He kept holding onto her, eyes locked on her own and expression dire and intense. “Flowing, how do you know it won’t just leave us alone after it notices we’re leavin--”

Another strike, as violent as any of the other times. Starry stumbled over and Flowing fell on top of him, smushing him against the deck of the ship. Beneath them, the ship let out a mighty groan, as the material the hulls were made from were audibly singing out their displeasure from the constant abuse. They did not have long.

She gave him a little peck on the cheek. “Starry, I love ya, but you’re bein’ a wee bit naïve towards the patience of angry sea monsters.”

She flopped off of him and over to the deck of the ship. Ready to dive in once more, but this time she didn’t want to do it without a proper little mutual ‘good luck.’ She didn’t like leaving him worried about her, but she found it impossible to simply hunker down in the ship and ‘hope for the best.’ Seaponies helped. And if she didn’t do that, then what was her purpose on the waves?

He was beside her in an instant, moving faster than she could with her haphazard flopping, but when she felt his hooves on her shoulders it wasn’t to hold her back this time. He gave her back a gentle pat.

“Y’know I don’t want you to do this, right? Y’know I think it’s stupid as Tartarus.”

“Yeah, but it’s not my first time outswimming a lusca, Starry,” Flowing promised, taking his hoof in her fins. “I can do this.”

“If you’re sure, I can’t stop ya. What can I do to help, Flowing? From up here?”

“Distractions. Lusca’s have great eyesight but shit hearing, they really rely on feeling vibrations in the water,” Flowing explained, not bothering to get into the specifics of the science. She could have educated the ship on the usage of the statocysts of squids and luscas, but she figured time was of the essence. “Sudden sharp changes in the water is gonna throw it off and overwhelm it, which might discourage it from continuing the chase.”

It was a guess, of course, such was never really a luxury Flowing had during her previous encounters with the underwater beast. Yet even so, the tactic for escaping them had been the same--split up, make lots of movement, and generally be a pestersome nuisance. Something Flowing was good at. The harder a catch you were, the less the lusca would want to continue the chase.

She just had to be a tempting enough catch for the lusca to abandon the ship for her, and a quick enough swimmer to not wind up a catch in the first place.

No pressure, right?

“Good luck, Starry.” Flowing gave him a kiss on the lips. She let go of his hooves and put both fins on the railing.

“Be safe, Flowing. If it gets too much...”

“Come back in. I gotcha.”

“My griffs and pegas are gonna be flyin’ right above ya, Miss Flowing,” Captain Misty piped up. “If it’s getting too much for you, we can swoop you outta there in a pinch.”

Flowing smiled. “Then I shall count on your tactical swooping when the necessity arises.”

She could already see the lusca approaching, ready for another ram at the ship. She wasn’t going to wait and see if it would be able to sustain another, though. Without any further hesitation, Flowing flung herself over the rail once more, hitting the water swimming.

The lusca was right in front of her as she did, and she banked to the side the moment it noticed her. It, too, abandoned its path towards the ship to instead give chase to her, its shark maw opening to let out an indignant roar. Flowing didn’t dare look back, she simply swam as fast as her tail and fins could take her. She swam straight down, back into the murky depths. She was swimming at a steep diagonal, aiming to put some diagonal distance from herself and the ship as well as vertical.

At least for now. She did not want to stay alone in the deep waters for too long, with a lusca on her tail. The closer she was to the surface, the closer the others were to saving her. If the lusca grabbed her with one of its tentacles this far into the depths, she was done for.

In the moment, though, it was simply about getting some distance to work with. She finally afforded herself a backwards glance, and she was instantly grateful that she did. One of the lusca’s tentacles had abandoned it’s role in swimming, and instead had outstretched forwards, intend on swiping at Flowing’s caudal fin. She brought her tail in close and shoved all of her weight to the side, swimming off in a quick barrel roll directly beneath the lusca.

The motion brought her uncomfortably close to the beast, which was like an electric jolt of adrenaline through her system, made even stronger by the furious roar it let out at being so close to it’s catch, only for it to suddenly slip away. Flowing swam in between flailing tendrils, which swiped and swept at her. One actually brushed against her tail fin, which caused her to quickly wrench it in closer to the rest of her body.

Then, she was away, swimming furiously like her--well, she supposed her life did depend on it.

She looked up for a brief moment, and high above, against the light from the sun above reflecting through the shimmering waters, she could see the outline of the cargo ship, some hundred or so meters above her. She hoped the griffons were getting ready for action with the time she was currently buying them. Either way, she was grateful the lusca had taken the seapony-shaped bait so easily.

Now, she just had to keep up the lead.

After successfully weaving through the forest of urgently flailing tentacles, she was on the ascent once more, racing towards the ocean’s surface with the lusca still in hot pursuit behind her. She’d apparently aggravated it enough that it wasn’t keen on letting her get away easily. That was fine.

The constant swims to Herring Harbour from home, practically every other day, were something she was grateful for now. Her swimming muscles felt toned, strong, capable. She was frightened, yes, but gods it was nice to let loose and swim for all she was worth.

It was a good thing she’d been resting aboard the sailboat for most of her day, though, instead of swimming alongside it. It was a strange thought to have in the midst of danger, but she’d have to offer Starry a thanks later for his accidental wisdom.

She breached the water, and before she even hit the water again, the lusca did, too. It must have been quite a sight, to anypony looking from the cargo ship. In the few seconds she was above the waves she could see a few griffons and one pegasi had been skimming over the waves, and when they saw the sudden breach they instantly banked and beat the air with their wings.

Then, she hit the water once again.

The lusca impacted the water behind her with enough force that it actually interrupted Flowing’s swimming pattern, swaying her off course and gumming up the rhythm she’d been cultivating. It might not have seemed like much to the non-aquatically inclined, but keeping a steady rhythm and flow was essential to one’s successful swimming. While the body and fins moved independent from eachother, it was all in service of one fluid, flowing motion.

And the interruption of it was enough to temporarily slow Flowing’s escape.

She yelped out as she felt one of the lusca’s tentacles wrap around her tail. Once again, she made a furious attempt to wrench it in close and swing her body out of the way, but this time the lusca seemed to have predicted the movement. It’s tentacles were splayed out in every direction, making every single possible route of escape a dangerous one. Flowing flailed urgently, and as she did the tentacle gripped around her tail tighter. Her heart started to pound furiously in her chest, and with a terrified cry, she once again yanked her tail away from the lusca’s grip, finally achieving some purchase and slipping out of it’s grasp. It roared, and another tentacle moved to join the effort of restraining her, and she wasn’t about to wait to see how successful it might’ve been. Already she was swimming away, straight into the path of the other tentacles practically caging her in close proximity with the lusca.

Her head was a flurry of the same desperate and obvious observation. 'This is bad this is bad this is bad--'

...Her terrified thoughts were interrupted suddenly when a heavy weight hit the water from above, a mighty splash splitting through the waves. A barrel, thrown into the ocean from the skies above, fell down and struck the lusca directly in the head. Not enough to really injure it, Flowing could tell, but certainly enough to distract it. The barrel had impacted the water with enough force that Flowing could feel it’s vibrations, and how they affected the water around them, causing the tentacles to sway. She ducked under one and swam away at the fastest speed she could and had already put some distance from it when she reached the surface of the ocean again.

Two of the griffons were waiting for her there, ready to grab her out of the water, but she waved a fin mid-swim. “I’m fine! Just got me off guard! Nice goin’, fellas!”

They glanced at each other, shrugged, and flapped above her. The lusca had recovered from the temporarily shock, and this time it had devoted some of its tendrils to trying to swat at the griffons hovering above the waves. They flapped up quickly, gaining some altitude, and Flowing decided to take advantage of the lusca’s temporary shift in hunting priority.

A sideways bank, and she was swimming headlong towards the lusca. It roared, she roared back, and then cut her approach at the last second, swatting the lusca across it’s sharky snout with her tail as hard as she could.

“Leave us alone!” she hollered. She didn’t know if it could understand her, but if the squid part of it’s brain had more presence than the shark one, it wasn’t out of the question. Clever buggers. “Go feed someplace else!”

She got another roar for her trouble and another flail of tentacles, but she wasn’t making the same mistake again. She swam past it, lengthwise along it’s body, and it had no choice but to sacrifice it’s attempts to grab her in favour of mobility, twisting itself around in a full 180 degrees to keep on her. Now that she’d gone and smacked it right in the snout, she’d proven she wasn’t just prey, she was prey that was going to fight back.

“Ya like that, pal?” Flowing hollered out, swimming off. It responded to her taunt with a flail of its tendrils, trying to grab her as she sped off through the waters, breaching to give the griffons a wave. She rode the waves while they kept up beneath her, looking down with concern and intrigue and disbelief on whether or not she’d really just gone and smacked a sea monster in the face with her tail.

“You doin’ alright, miss fishy?” One of the griffons called out as they both raced over the waves, above and below.

“Peachy!” Flowing returned. Behind her, she heard a mighty splash as the lusca surfaced, too. “Hey, I’ve got an idea... Y’think you two can pick me up for a sec?”

No sooner than she’d said it, were the two griffons clipping their wings and coming down towards her. Her forelimbs weren’t really doing anything at the moment besides staying flush against her side, and so she spread them out as the griffons approached and let them grip onto her, one griffon using his left talon and the other using his right. She was surprised they had such a tender grip for how sharp the talons looked. Her only experience with griffons prior had been fighting with them over fishing rights, so it was a bit of a leap of trust allowing herself to be pulled out of the dangerous path of an angry lusca by the avian predators, and she was instantly relieved her trust was rewarded.

They flapped their powerful wings several times and soon enough her tail was dangling over open air while the lusca’s tentacles swatted upwards at her. One of the tendrils grazed her tail, wrapped around the tip, and started to tug her back down. The griffons, noticing this, quickly beat their wings harder and faster and pulled her out of harms way and into the sky a dozen or so meters above the ocean’s floor.

“Now what, ma’am?” One asked.

“Hopin’ you’ve got a plan!” The other added. “Dunno if throwin’ ya back in there with that thing is a good idea.”

“Well... Er. I do have a plan,” Flowing said, and it was true. She did. A silly, ludicrous, and dangerous plan, sure. But a plan all the same, and weren’t those the best sorts? The ones craziest enough to work? “Y’think you can... Dive bomb down to the water? And let go of me just as you do?”

She had a visual in her mind, of her flying into the water like a torpedo just so she could slap that lusca across the face with her tail even harder. A nice visual in her head. She was praying to the Sirens it would be as nice in practice.

The griffons shared a glance. One of them shrugged. The other managed a little chuckle. “Think you’re a wee bit crazy, ma’am. No offence.”

“Your lad might kill us both if we letcha get hurt.” The other added.

Flowing laughed. “Then be ready on the swooping. But that jerk’s been hitting your ship somethin’ fierce, why don’t we give him a taste of his own medicine?”

The griffons both grinned at that. A shared nod, and they turned and swooped in a graceful arc made a little less graceful by the heavy seapony still in tow. And then, they were racing downwards closer and closer towards the water, towards the lusca, the distance closing quickly...

Flowing hit the water at a mighty speed and twisted herself around as she did. Her trajectory was directly at the lusca, and her sudden movement meant that her tail smacked it right in the neck. She was aiming for the siphons--the ‘altitude’ control of the beast, where it took in and released water to keep itself centered and in control of itself. Her aim was true, her tail hitting the small but sensitive area with a mighty force. The creature screamed out in surprise and indignation and pain, and it did so again when it saw that Flowing was already out of it’s grasp before it could react further.

When it gave chase for what felt like the dozenth time, Flowing could tell it was slowing down, and losing the drive to continue the chase. She didn’t slow herself, swishing her tail gracefully and swimming down, down, as far down as she could. She could tell from how cool the water felt that there were near fathomless depths for her to descend into, and she did so with as much speed as she could. Soon, she was past where the light of the sun could penetrate. She didn’t turn to look for the lusca, for she could still feel it’s mighty tentacles swishing through the water as it chased her. Her angler lamp was her only guiding light, and the only point of reference the lusca had on where she was, even with its excellent squidy eyesight.

Flowing descended deeper and deeper until even she could feel the weight of the ocean around her. She had no idea how much deeper she might have to go to reach the bottom—nor did she know with utmost certainty that there wasn’t more horror waiting for her on the bottom of the ocean.

Instead of finding out, she decided to take one last gamble. Taking in a shaky breath to calm herself as best she could, she extinguished her angler lamp and swam off to the side.

Her fins went flat against her sides. Her tail stopped swishing the waters. She dare not even breathe, out of fear that the sound of the water rushing in and out of her gills might be heard by the lusca. She could feel it’s lumbering weight as it continued to swim, continued to assault the salt water with its tendrils, continued to roar and rumble as it searched for its seapony prey…

And, as Flowing lay motionlessly suspended in the deep sea waters, she could feel the pressure of its swimming fading…

It felt like its current swept past her. And then, instead of stopping to engage the idling seapony, it continued downwards, and she felt it getting further from her.

She dare not take in any more water through her gills until the last traces of its movement had vanished. But… once it had… She quickly caught her breath and let herself start to float upwards. Her tail swished at the water as silently as she could at first, but once she’d gained a hundred or so meters of aquatic altitude, she swam faster, while deep below the lusca no doubt continued to hunt the depths for its seapony target that it no longer even felt particularly motivated to chase.

She surfaced. The two griffons nearly started as she did, but she flashed them a smirk and rose both of her forefins. “Ride back, boys? Think I gave him the slip.”

~~~

“Hey, Tempy?”

“I have warned you multiple times not to call me that, Cirrus Bolt.”

“And I continue to ignore your warnings, dastardly bird that I am,” Cirrus smirked. They were both making their way off of the deck of the Thespis, after Tempest had ordered it to be taken up river and out of sight from anypony approaching from the ocean. Harder to repair it in an isolated spot, but she didn’t doubt her crew’s capabilities to do so regardless.

Moving the ship had meant they’d had to trek back into Broken Beak Cove, a walk of fifteen or so minutes which Cirrus had insisted on accompanying Tempest on. He’d been with her practically constantly, since they’d left the tavern, stopping just to grab his travel pack and drop off his room key. The prospect that the hippogriff would be bunking in the Thespis wasn’t one that filled Tempest with much joy.

“...well, so...” Cirrus was continuing. “You’re not expecting your seapony for a little bit, eh?”

Tempest glanced back at him as she walked. Besides him, they were alone, which Tempest was at least grateful for. “Yes. They will be swimming, and she will have to take breaks where they are available. I imagine this evening, or sometime tomorrow morning.”

“So, time. Time to maybe...” Tempest heard a rustling of paper behind her, and when she turned, she was Cirrus fishing out one of the posters he’d tucked into his bag earlier. “Whaddaya say? Quick bounty in town? Debt collection gig, nothin’ complex?”

“I do not think that splitting our focus between a primary bounty and a ‘time killer’ bounty is a good idea, Cirrus.”

“Right, but. What’re your plans then? Scope out the docks, all day and all night?” Cirrus kicked off the ground, flapping ahead of her and holding out the poster with both claws. “Come onnnn, a quick little job. Pay’s good, too, look at that! Three hundred bits, that’s one fifty between us! Just to go rough up some griffon noble? That’s like, easy money.”

Tempest didn’t reply. She kept walking.

“Come on, Tempy. Can’t tell me you don’t need the bits, too.”

“The Storm King keeps me well compensated.”

“The Storm King keeps your allowance on a tighter leash than my fishy folks did,” Cirrus replied. “And think, when we’ve got your seapony in captivity, we can go actually celebrate!”

“This isn’t a game, Cirrus. This is a turning point. I know you don’t care about anything, but I can’t afford to not take this seriously.”

“You take everything seriously, Tempest.” Cirrus let the poster fall a bit, but didn’t stow it away yet. “It’s really... Kinda dull, to be honest. I know you’re not that much of a grouch deep down.”

Tempest narrowed her eyes. “Cirrus, we are not friends. Don’t delude yourself of that notion any longer.”

“Ain’t asking for your ‘fwiendship’, Tempy. I’m asking for your help on one job. I dropped everything to help you, and I promise we can have it done before the sun goes down. Two hours, tops.”

Tempest was silent again, save for the sound of her armoured hooves crunching against the road weaving into town. These little fishing communities lining the coasts of the Griffon Empire were similar to the ones across the pond to Equestria, and different in many ways, too. Both resolved themselves into craggy, rocky cliff-faces, but around the Griffon Empire they were far taller, sharper, and practically obscured anything past the coast itself. This meant that maritime traffic was usually funnelled into the winding rivers that made their way into the landscape, with the rest of it impassable to beings incapable of flight. The Thespis would be well-hidden.

And, even if Flowing and her stallion managed to slip past her at the docks, there was nowhere for them to go inland, besides following the river directly into the nets of the Thespis.

“One job, fine.” Tempest sighed. Loathe as she was to admit... A bounty hunting job seemed a good change of pace after so long on the waves and wayward sea breezes.

Together they made their way back into town in relative silence, the scent of salt water and freshly caught fish wafting to Tempest’s nostrils just as the flimsy, brightly coloured little shanty village came into view over the craggy hills that formed the harsh Griffonian landscape. Tempest idly caught herself wondering if the dreary grey rock that formed the majority of the landscape was the reason why griffons and ponies both desired to paint their buildings bright reds and blues and yellows. A vain effort to return some colour to the coastline.

Broken Beak wasn’t an enormous settlement, but it was still one of the most populated this side of the ocean, simply by virtue of its location at both the oceanic coastline, and one of the larger streams of fresh water that made their way inland. Tempest imagined a couple hundred griffons lived there—and perhaps a few dozen ponies, too. Strange, more griffon-like ponies compared to across the ocean; with crueller senses of humour, stronger livers, and more interesting stories, but ponies all the same.

The sorts of pony Tempest reckoned she was.

Soon enough, they were in town proper, Tempest’s hooves leaving the dirt path and venturing onto the old, cracked cobblstone streets instead. Beside her, Cirrus flapped down to land next to her.

“So. Debt collection,” Tempest said. “Who are we looking for and where are we looking for him.”

They passed the front gate into town. Beside them, a few lonely farm houses on the outskirts of town passed. One of them looked abandoned to Tempest. Whatever in Tartarus they were trying to ‘farm’ out of craggy rock, it seemed it hadn’t been fruitful enough.

“Name is… er.” Cirrus fished out the flier. “Gabriel the Griffon. Seriously, the Griffon? Do they all go by that? What if there’s two griffons with the same name?”

“I presume he has a surname and us knowing it is irrelevant. Where is Gabriel the Griffon?” Tempest almost cringed as she said it.

“Gabriel the Griffon can typically be found drinking at the Crooked Claw Cavern.”

“A typo of Tavern?”

Cirrus snort-laughed. “Or somegriff really wanted the alliteration to work.”

Tempest almost laughed, but she caught herself and rolled her eyes instead. “Have you been there before?”

“Once, cause there was a nice, juicy, ‘technically kinda sorta illegal’ high stakes poker game that I wanted to put a few chips into.” Cirrus winked. “Skeevy place. If you can enjoy a drink without a bar fight breaking out, you’re a lucky patron.”

“And this is where our ‘griffon noble’ is.”

“You ask a lot of questions about a job you were trying to pretend you weren’t interested in ten minutes ago,” Cirrus said, shooting Tempest a sideways grin. “But yes. If we’re lucky.”

Eventually, the two cut into a back alley, away from the main ‘drag’ of Broken Beak. It was only the middle of the afternoon, but it felt much later, owing to the way the cloud cover above them had thickened and blotted out the burning maritime sun. Dark, grey, and low in the sky… they would no doubt have rain before the end of the day, Tempest figured. If she was lucky, it would delay her seapony catch further, and ensure she still had plenty of time to get into position for her capture.

Along the way, Tempest stayed behind Cirrus and let him lead the pack. She was staring straight ahead, while the hippogriff was a bit more alert. Ears flicking about, and shooting the occasional glance behind himself as they travelled.

For somepony so accustomed to aerial combat on the deck of an airship, Tempest nearly slapped herself across the face for missing it.

“Don’t look,” Cirrus said, looking straight ahead now and trotting forwards without slowing. The alleyway was surprisingly lengthy, forming an alternate route through much of the town’s marketplace. “But the same griffon has been tailing me since I came back into town.”

Tempest frowned, and continued following Cirrus as he led the way forward. “You sure?”

“Well. I thought I saw him tailing me earlier. Him and a few others. And then I met you in the tavern, and we left town for a bit…” Cirrus clicked his tongue. “And now he’s back.”

“Shoot.” Tempest’s first instinct was to berate Cirrus for—something. She wasn’t quite sure what. Being followed? Raising trouble? She didn’t have the full picture, which made it a little hard to pass any dire judgment.

Then again, Cirrus’s status as a hippogriff perhaps didn’t mean she had to. Wasn’t she chasing a seapony for the same reason? Sure, she’d arbitrarily made the decision that Cirrus was off-limits, but why the blazes would some other random griffon bounty hunter have thought otherwise?

She’d left her armour back in the Thespis, too. It was the only symbol that really identified her as a servant of the Storm King. Without it… well, she was just another rival bounty hunter to anyone else watching.

“Why?” Tempest ventured. Maybe Cirrus had an answer, after all.

He didn’t. “I don’t know. Wouldn’t be the first time a someone put out a bounty on, er…”

On another bounty hunter. It was true, of course. It was a cut-throat world, out here on the fringes of the legal and illegal.

They continued on towards the tavern. They passed the sign for the Crooked Claw—an indeed quite skeevy looking place that was accessible via a dirty and darkened stairwell into a dank underground… perhaps cavern really was a fitting moniker. Cirrus didn’t stop, though, and Tempest didn’t blame him. If the place was as sketchy as he suggested, perhaps getting cornered within wasn’t the best option.

She became more aware of the sound of wing beats above them in the alleyway. They were a near constant sound in the town proper, but the alleys had a way of muffling the sounds of the surrounding town. The sound, background noise to her once, took on a new meaning when she knew they were being followed—and judging by the amount of wingbeats, not just by one griffon, after all.

Soon enough, they crossed from the alleyway back into the main marketplace. It was busier within, so Tempest trotted closer to Cirrus so she wouldn’t lose track of him.

“They, uh. They’re still following me,” Cirrus grumbled out.

Tempest finally afforded herself an upwards, backwards glance. The sky was busy with griffons flapping to and fro, but it was pretty easy to distinguish which ones were on normal-marketplace business, and which ones had… other designs. They were amateurish, Tempest thought, in how obvious it was that they were bounty hunters on a trail. Tempest spotted a blunderbuss hanging from a strap over one of the griffon’s necks—relatively expensive weaponry within the Griffon Empire. Bulky, loud, unsubtle, and not as reliable as their power would imply… Tempest had greatly found herself preferring her own hooves herself, but she had at least enough experience to know that seeing the thing around the neck of a griffon tailing her wasn’t really an encouraging prospect.

“Think we can take them, Cirrus?” Tempest asked, keeping her voice low and hoping the sounds of the marketplace would drown out any potential eavesdroppers. The hustle and bustle wasn't as dramatic as either had seen it, and Tempest wasn't entirely confident the two of them wouldn't still stick out amidst it. “Ones got a blunderbuss. Could just be for show. Don’t wanna find out.”

“Maybe. Don’t gotta do that, though, Tempy,” Cirrus replied. “Don’t wanna get you into more trouble.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I can handle myself fine. In fact, I can handle myself so fine that I suppose I’ll have to handle you as well.” She jerked her head behind her. Not caring now if their pursuers knew they were found out. “Come on. Let’s find out what they want.”

Cirrus gave her a single nod, looking both surprised and grateful. He whistled for her to follow, and then he was venturing off into another side alley. Tempest was right on his talons, the idle chatter of the marketplace once again going quiet. There wasn’t much to this particular alleyway, it continued around a corner and ended there, a few trash bins against the tall concrete wall of some sort of factory or bakery.

Tempest turned to face where they’d come from, putting her own back to Cirrus’s, internally bracing for some sort of exciting escalation to the current tenseness.

The two griffons landed into the alleyway, too. The one griffon had already wrapped a wing around the handle of his blunderbuss as soon as he landed. Not pointing it at them…yet, but letting them know it was there all the same.

“Help you guys?” Cirrus ventured.

“Sure hope so.” The first griffon, the one with the blunderbuss, said. A male, judging by his voice. “You Cirrus Bolt?”

Cirrus looked back at Tempest. She shrugged. With a lengthy exhale, Cirrus gave a single nod. “Uh huh. To who do I owe the pleasure?”

“To a couple of 'griff’s who know a hippogriff when they see one. A dangerous, bounty hunter of one, but one all the same.” The second griffon piped up. While her plumage made it a bit hard to tell, Tempest knew this one was female. “And, y’know. I told my partner… ain’t there a price on information 'bout the hippogriffs floatin’ around?”

“Not this one,” Tempest said, stepping forward. “Off limits.”

“Yeah? Authority of who?”

“Tempest Shadow. Lieutenant of the Storm King’s First Insurgency Battalion.”

The two griffons shared a look, followed by a laugh. A laugh that may as well have been the griffon telling her they believed her as much as they believed Cirrus was Princess Celestia.

Tempest rolled her eyes at their laughter, cutting it off before they could get some stereotypical quip in. “Look, either bug off and leave us be, or let’s stop wasting time and get this over with. I have things to do.”

Behind her, she could feel Cirrus tense. Evidently, he wasn’t entirely on board with her own impulsive, callousness, but she didn’t really feel even a little bit intimidated by these two bounty hunters. They simply radiated arrogance, and incompetence, and she couldn’t deny the urge to put the two fools in their place.

And then no sooner had the thought crossed Tempest’s head, did two other griffons flap into view, swirling around to land behind Cirrus and surround the two of them.