Gryphus

The fighter soared through the sky. Its latest challenger spiraled down in flames, leaving behind a trail of inky black smoke as it plummeted to the ground. Greta Silverbeak giggled as a gust of wind tossed about a paper plane hanging from her plane by a string. She sat in a wooden mockup of a monoplane, tied to a wooden post outside the school’s dirty white main building.

It was recess, and two dozen hatchlings were busy running amok in the schoolyard. A few hatchlings were climbing in the trees, but most were playing war in the grassy field surrounding the school. A simple wooden fence separated them from the empty field outside. Holding sticks like rifles, they dashed about, shouting and screaming and running in circles.

“You don’t want to play with them?”

Miss Stela, their teacher, had snuck up on her. The yellow griffoness had wrapped a thick woolen scarf around her neck. Dressed in a simple brown coat, Stela’s head swiveled around as she tried to keep track of the goings of every hatchling under her care.

“I’m good,” Greta answered.

“If you say so,” Miss Stela said. “You have been there for quite some time. If anyone else wants to go, let them.”

“Yes, Miss!” Then to Greta’s delight, she saw a cow approach from around the school’s main building. “Amanda!”

The cow, brown and white in color, wore a simple white dress. She had wrapped a red kerchief around her head, covering her short mane. Greta was jealous of the cow's thick coat, which always kept her warm.

“Hi,” Amanda waved at her. To Miss Stela she said. “Everything is ready for the next lesson.”

“Thank you, dearie.”

Greta thought it was weird that someone as old as Amanda went to school with the little hatchlings. Why hadn’t she ever learned to read? Maybe she should ask her dad. He had said that cows were often treated poorly. She had no intention of asking Amanda, she was already so busy. As the clearly oldest student, she had some extra responsibilities to take care of. Amanda didn’t seem to mind, which Greta couldn’t understand. It took time away from her recess!

Her thoughts were interrupted by a low rumble. From the clouds emerged the black shapes of planes. Two. Four. Ten. Twenty.

Greta cheered, wishing she could fly among the planes. Stela’s face darkened. Although they were far from the front, the war still made itself known.