Kind Hands

Any changes in scenery had been fairly obvious throughout this journey, even more so when out on-foot. A luscious grassland had slowly dwindled with every passing minute, replaced with a vast expanse of sand and dust, the final remnants of any plant life stubbornly refusing to bow down to the harsh climate.

Even the clouds had abandoned the space below them, withholding any respite from the glaring sun overhead. Any type of shade or shadow was hard to come by, as any rock formation was always just out of reach.

Any recognisable landmarks were equally as absent in the expanse of desert, offering no sense of shape, space or direction to any weary traveller’s travels. It was a good thing that I’d dedicated my life to studying this stupid map, or else my group and I would likely have been lost to the nothingness.

“We shall stop here,” announced Blueblood after a particularly difficult climb up a small dune. It was funny how he still wore his pretention on his sleeve considering how I had to practically carry him up the last hill. “This heat is absolute murder.”

“We shall not stop here,” I quickly rebuked, not interested in humouring the prince’s purported plight. “We’re nearly there now; this ‘Starlight’s Village’ is barely more than a stone’s throw away. There’s no point in stopping now.”

“I was not requesting-”

“-And neither was I. Now move your arse.”

Blueblood dug his hooves into the sand in a juvenile display of defiance, clearly unhappy with being told what to do. Usually prideful and refined, his actions were anything but. Obviously. I doubt that he was aware of any of this; I don’t think that he possessed that level of consciousness.

“I shall not be moving another step without some recuperation.”

“And where’s that ‘recuperation’ gonna come from- there’s no shade for miles,” I snapped back at him, doing exaggerated points over my shoulder to emphasise my point. It was true- we were in the middle of fuckit nowhere. The only shade in sight was ironically closer to our objective. Blueblood scoffed at this assertion.

“I would not expect you to understand.”

With this remark, the prince closed his eyes and lowered his head. Channelling a burst of magical energy, he summoned a translucent hemisphere of magic that sat atop his head. The hemisphere served as a hat of some sort, providing a very limited amount of shade for the unicorn as he proudly looked towards his perplexed partners.

“An old trick that has been passed down for generations through my blood line,” Blueblood elaborated, not that anybody asked. He was obviously pleased with his magical prowess and saw Fairfeather and I’s collective silence as an indication that we were just as delighted as he was. Unfortunately for him, this was not the case.

“That was the one thing that you decided to learn?” I asked, swinging my arms about like someone who wasn’t melting in the sun. “Bloody hell; everything about you is a waste.”

“Of course, I have no intention in sharing this with either of you,” Blueblood continued, completely ignoring my comment. “Particularly the griffon.”

Fairfeather completely ignored this; we were all kind of numb to it at this point. Instead, the griffon turned to head towards our objective. “We don’t even want you here, dude,” he called out over his shoulder, no longer interested in the prince and his prejudices.

“Well then, we’ll go without you,” I added. “Come on FF, let’s go.”

“Is that me?” Fairfeather asked, looking around the dustbowl.

“Do you know what your initials are? Yes, it’s you- now come on.”

“You see me? I’m ahead of you.”

“Bloody won’t be for long.”

I ran up to Fairfeather and gave him a playful smack on the back of his head. It was a harder hit than I’d intended, shown by the griffon rubbing his head painfully and turning to look up at me in a mixture of shock and annoyance.

As Fairfeather stopped and stared, I strolled off towards the village with a slight spring in my step. I would’ve continued on, but an imminent confrontation behind my back caused me to trudge back to where I started.

“Spare us some water,” I heard Blueblood say behind me. In times like this, more sarcasm was clearly needed, but Fairfeather beat me to a reply with some sass of his own.

“Can’t hear you.”

“How dare you speak to me like that, you insolent-”

“-Yeah, that’s great, libertine,” I interjected. “If you need us, we’ll be going to where we’re actually supposed to go.” And with that, the two of us left, allowing the prince to wallow in his own self-importance.

“I hate that guy,” Fairfeather remarked as soon as we’d moved out of earshot. I scoffed in reply.

“Then let’s get this done before he decides to follow us.”

Blueblood’s decision to enjoy his time in the ‘shade’ had given us the perfect opportunity to advance in peace. Would you believe, the remaining steps to the village seemed that much lighter now that the dysfunctional trio had been transformed into a semi-functional duo.

Approaching the village in question, it appeared that the place wasn’t named after Starlight after all, as a sign showed the name ‘Our Town’. That was according to Fairfeather, at least.

“Well, this place looks about as cheerful as the Soviet Union…”

‘Our Town’ wasn’t too dissimilar to Ponyville; it was much more depressing. Exacerbated by the endless wasteland surrounding it, the town consisted of dirt roads and discoloured housing. Whether the houses were made from sandstone or from the dirt and dust on the floor, I didn’t care. I’d mentioned Barnsley before, but we were well past that.

Compared to the glitz and glam of Canterlot and even the relaxed reservedness of Ponyville, it felt as if ‘Our Town’ had been left resoundingly in the past. The uninspired, straight rows of dreary housing reminded me of the dreaded layouts of suburbia in 1950s America: formulaic and quickly assembled without much thought for the people living there. There were no plants, nor were there any water sources. The town really did seem like it was an afterthought and created out of desperation more than anything else.

There were ponies milling about, trying to make the most of the unfortunate circumstances that they were in. There were bakers, tailors; there was even a blacksmith by the looks of it. Full of smiles, hugs and cheery greetings, the citizens of ‘Our Town’, if nothing else, all seemed very tightknit. I suddenly felt very out of place.

“They’re all…very friendly, aren’t they?” I asked Fairfeather. We must’ve been stood in silence for a while, as my question made the griffon next to me jump slightly.

“Maybe Starbright brought them together,” Fairfeather suggested.

“Or maybe her removal did that instead. I don’t wanna stay here for any longer than I need to.”

It appeared that I was justified in feeling like an outcast. Alongside the more obvious reasons, I couldn’t imagine that these got many visitors at all. The inevitable stares weren’t unfamiliar to me at this point, but I still could’ve done without.

“I guess a human and griffon don’t come through here too often,” I suggested, slightly concerned with how the townsfolk would react to us. Fairfeather said nothing in return, instead constantly shifting his gaze, scanning the crowds for anyone who stood out.

The griffon quickly found something of interest: a small gaggle of important-looking ponies who were gathered around the remains of an old house. They were all engaged in some form of discussion, pointing their forelegs and writing on levitating notepads. “Those look like the kind of ponies we should be talking to,” he suggested, pointing at the group with his one-good forelimb.

“I mean, we don’t have any better ideas. Do you want to do the talking or shall I?” I asked, turning towards where I thought the griffon would be. He was far too efficient for my questions, however, as he had already darted towards the small crowd. I sprinted after him- perhaps too aggressively, as the group saw me coming and stiffened up.

“That didn’t help,” Fairfeather chided, having turned to watch my ill-thought approach.

“Well, don’t go without me then,” I replied. I crossed my arms for a moment before playfully whacking the back of Fairfeather’s head again. I was met with a claw poking against my cheek in response.

While we were doing that, I became aware of one of the members of the group in front of us approaching. There wasn’t much to him in terms of appearance. He had a neutral colour palette of white fur and blue eyes, as if his body was covered in chalk.

He looked to be simple in appearance, keeping his mane and tail short and sleek, although he looked more athletic than most. Lean, strong and prideful in the way that he raised his head, he must have been attractive for this world’s standards. Didn’t do much for me though.

“Welcome, friends!” the stallion called out with a wave. “We haven’t seen ponies like you before.” He gestured with his hoof as he spoke, moving between me and my feathered friend.

“I’m not too surprised. I don’t think you get many humans out here,” I answered plainly. I was sure that I would’ve been the main attraction, but this new stallion had found something much more worthwhile.

“Not just you, but this one as well. Such an interesting creature.”

The stallion took a moment to circle the pair of us, investigating his town’s bumbling intruders. Just like before, he showed much more of an interest in Fairfeather, and even as the third wheel, I felt intensely uncomfortable. I could only wonder how the griffon felt.

“My name is Double Diamond, and this is Our Town,” the stallion stated after finishing his inspection. He spun in a small circle as he spoke, clearly excited to show off the village to us. Sadly for Double Diamond, his audience didn’t hold the same esteem for the town as he did. Instead, we all stood in silence, creating a rather awkward scene for the ponies that moved around us. Double Diamond obviously felt the same, as he, again, was the first to speak up. “What brings you to Our Town?”

“We’re looking for someone,” I began as I folded my arms and looked down at the stallion. “Uh, under the orders of Princess Celestia.”

“Well, it must be somepony super special if the princess sent two of her finest soldiers. I can’t even remember the last time Celestia cast her glance towards Our Town…”

Double Diamond’s voice didn’t sit right with me. His inflections and the way he emphasised certain words made him sound as if he was constantly surprised with what he was saying. It was patronising in a way.

“…And if you have such an important mission, then everypony in Our Town would be happy to help you. Who are you looking for?”

“We’re-” I began.

“-Somepony named Starlight Glimmer,” Fairfeather interrupted. “We think she used to live here. Also, calm down, dude.”

I grimaced in pain as Fairfeather painfully prodded my side with a claw. As I resisted the urge to smack the griffon once more, Double Diamond began to speak again. This time, however, the stallion spoke with a more subdued tone.

“Now, why would you need to find her?”

“We’ve been ordered to bring her to Canterlot by the princesses. She is needed at Canterlot Castle.”

Fairfeather was calmness personified as he spoke- much to my surprise. Poor bugger couldn’t handle most social situations, but I suppose he was in the zone at that point. The griffon’s social prowess wasn’t the main thought on Double Diamond’s mind, however; his eyes wandered towards Fairfeather’s bow, clearly visible in its holster.

“You’re not gonna hurt her, are you?” the stallion asked as he took a step back, eyes shifting constantly between the griffon and his weapon. It appeared that Starlight’s name had attracted some attention as well; a small crowd had suddenly descended upon us. “Starlight doesn’t deserve that- orders or no orders.”

Whilst Double Diamond’s change in tone was nicer on my ears, it was indicative of the fact that the current situation was at risk of boiling over. “Maybe we should go get the prince,” Fairfeather suggested as he also caught on to the disturbance. “Maybe another pony’ll calm them down.”

“I cannot say that I am surprised of your desire for my presence.”

As if to answer our prayers, Blueblood had finally waltzed into town and entered the conversation. I was hoping- hoping against all odds- that the prince would keep things under control.

Unfortunately…

“And what kind of hole have you dug yourselves into? Have you found your harlot yet?”

I shouldn’t’ve expected anything else. The prince’s comment elicited several gasps from the ponies around us. Only for a moment, however, as the crowd of ponies drew ever closer.

“How could you say such a thing about our Starlight? She brought our town together,” Double Diamond proclaimed, eyes wide in shock. The crowd continued to close in, audibly enraged by the prince’s comment.

“And to have a Canterlot noble come to Our Town and insult our Starlight…”

“The best leader we’ve ever had!”

“This is the treatment we receive after so long?”

“A night in a cell should be enough to prove Starlight’s mercy!” Double Diamond cried, tilting his head to the sky as if Starlight was listening from the clouds above him. This was fanaticism of the highest order- cartoonishly so.

The stallion’s idea was met with resounding cheers from the crowd that had gathered around us. In an instant, my vision became enveloped by flailing forehooves, encasing me in their collective fury. “Now, hold on,” I implored as I raised my hands in a display of non-aggression. “We don’t need to do anything stupid.”

“I think that ship’s sailed, dude,” came the defeated voice of Fairfeather, having already laid his weapon down. “It’ll be better if we just give up.”

I wanted to protest, fearful of what these fanatics were likely to do to us, but, after seeing my friend already lay down his arms, I knew that this wasn’t my battle to win. Not everyone shared this mindset, though, as Blueblood made sure to showcase.

“Get your filthy hooves off of me, you invalids! Do you not know who I am?!”

It was impressive; even when I was actively in the process of being captured and imprisoned, the prince still happened to be the pony who I hated the most.

“Could you please hit him for us? We won’t mind.”

After several incredibly necessary hits to Blueblood’s face, the three of us were gracefully led to a small shack that could laughably be referred to as a ‘cell’. It was little more than a small, darkened room, devoid of any notable features. It didn’t even seem to be in disrepair; there was no mould, and the stone floor was well-cleaned and maintained. If it wasn’t for the lack of natural light, the room could almost be seen as ‘accommodating’.

Its only issue- aside from the fact that sleeping would be a bugger- was that it was barely large enough for us- even more so considering that the cell was already inhabited by another prisoner.

“Who’s this little girl?”

The ‘little girl’ was actually a young griffon, certainly younger than Fairfeather. Huddled in a corner at the far end of the room, it would have been easy to miss her if she wasn’t so brightly coloured. She looked practically volcanic, with molten red feathers that mellowed to a pastel orange on her underbelly. Her face was detailed with small flecks of yellow that encircled both her eyes, making them look like miniature suns from a distance.

Paired with her small frame, her bright colour scheme made her look even more juvenile than she likely was. Despite this, the colours that she possessed certainly helped her stand out in a crowd- or dark corner. It was only fitting, then, that, when provoked, this fiery challenger stepped out of the shadows and into the fray.

“Who’re you calling a ‘little girl’, you little runt?” she fired back against Fairfeather’s original question. “Calling me a little girl when your claws don’t work.” She gestured at her target’s disfigured claw, which he held in embarrassment.

“Oh, wonderful- now I must contend with two mosquitos filling my vision. How will I survive the night?” Blueblood lamented. He held his head as he spoke, turning away from us. That was the plan at least, until a claw embedded itself in his cheek and dragged him back to face the confrontation.

“Oh yeah, well, I don’t like you either, you prissy, pompous pony-prince,” the little one spat, her immature insults being both fast paced and largely irrelevant.

“Is no one here a likeable character?” I asked to myself as I also held my head in despair. I’d intended for my question to be hypothetical, but my new challenger didn’t let that stop her from turning to me, surely armed to the teeth with sensational criticism.

“And who have we here?” The best of the rest? The princess’ mascot of the month? Where are your strings, puppet?”

Her voice was youthful and full of spite. It reminded me of a child from my class: young, boisterous, mildly American and with a tone far more childlike than her choice of language. Her rapid-fire insults served as another reminder that she was likely still a child, which was concerning. In only a few days, I’d already come across two griffons, both children, alone in the wastes. These two were unlikely to be the only ones as well.

Nevertheless, I had a more pressing issue to deal with. It was time to pull out a classic teacher trick: talking down to children. I steeled myself and turned towards this ball of fire.

“Ah, you don’t really mean that,” I replied dismissively, waving my hand at the girl.

“Yeah, I do!”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yeah, I do- shut up!”

Even though she was busy losing her patience with me, she randomly wheeled around to glare at Blueblood again. This felt fairly pointless as the prince had long abandoned the exchange, but I could always appreciate some Blueblood slander. The little griffon blew air out of her mouth in frustration, flapping at several amber feathers that threatened to fall into her eyes.

“You really do hate him, don’t you?”

“Yeah! So?”

“You wonderful little fireball!”

“What-”

I scooped up the pint-sized griffon and pulled her into a strong hug. Knowing how much she must’ve despised what I was doing, I squeezed her, using my larger frame as leverage to pull her into an inescapable embrace. “We hate him too!”

Just as she had hated the prince, she very quickly came to hate the situation that she was in as well. I knew that she would; her mad scramble to escape proved that.

“G-get off me!”

I laughed at the griffon as she expertly used her modest bodyweight to throw me off balance, tossing me to the floor. In the tussle that followed, she was easily able to escape my grasp. She was very capable, it seemed, as she had practically made mincemeat out of me.

She also possessed some incredibly sharp claws, so I thanked my lucky stars that my face was still in one piece. Fairfeather and Blueblood both looked on, confused and concerned. If they were to both speak their minds, they may have actually been able to agree on something. Neither did so, though, so it was up to me once more to break the ice.

“What’s your name, sulky?”

“Don’t call me that!”

“Well, you can either tell me your name, or I can keep calling you ‘sulky’.”

“Fine. Autumn. My name’s Autumn.”

She must’ve been very young if she was to fold that quickly; I was expecting more. Her discomfort was clear: her face was red- redder than it had been, at least- and she had no interest in maintaining eye contact, instead casting her gaze towards the floor. She focused on the cracks between the stone slabs and appeared to be counting them. The rest of us watched as she traced one of her claws along one of the cracks, periodically closing her eyes and allowing her body to relax as she did so.

Much of the anger in the room dissipated during this lapse in conversation, allowing everyone a chance to breathe. Much like Autumn had, I also allowed my eyes to close as I thought about who this lost soul was. Her visible vulnerability was similar to what I’d seen in Fairfeather- albeit expressed in a different manner. I probably should’ve let her be, but I felt compelled to find out a little bit more about her.

“Autumn? That’s a lovely name.”

Autumn’s eyes shot open as she locked onto me in search of elaboration. I caught sight of her amber eyes, cautious and concerned- lacking much of the combative nature from earlier.

“No…” she started only for her voice to trail off. “…It’s stupid.”

Her voice continued to sound more and more subdued as she spoke, losing much of the venom behind her words as they dragged themselves from her mouth. She reverted to interacting with the floor, her claws audibly scratching at the slabs.

Things stayed like this for another moment. With the intermittent scratching serving as the room’s soundtrack, I moved my attention back to the other griffon. “Hey,” I whispered to Fairfeather. “Come on, mate- you’re a griffon. Go talk to her.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I dunno- go and get her onside. She might be helpful to us.”

“What am I gonna say?”

“Fucking hell, mate- you gotta do stuff for yourself sometimes.”

“Fuck you, dude. Why should I-”

“-Do you two ever shut up?” asked a frustrated voice from the far side of the room. Autumn looked over from her corner in annoyance as she picked herself up and ambled back towards us.

“For once, I agree with the riffraff,” came the dissenting voice of Blueblood, who idly flapped a hoof towards our little gathering as he combed his mane. Nobody paid any attention to the prince or his comment- and maybe it was better that way.

“Oh, yeah, uh, sorry,” Fairfeather said in a flustered fashion. “We were just talking and-”

“-I guess we were quite loud-” I interjected.

“-Shut up. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“Well, I know that. But we should probably work on the volume of our voices next ti-”

Our minor clash-of-heads was uninterrupted by a clash of heads. A very painful one as Autumn smashed both mine and Fairfeather’s noggins together, causing me to cry out as Fairfeather’s sharper facial features dug into my skin.

“That’s better!” Autumn cheerfully proclaimed, beaming with pride in appreciation of her handiwork.

“What did you do that for?!” I hissed between the bouts of pain that were shooting through my head. “Christ, that hurt.” I squatted down and rubbed at my face, lamenting my decision to engage with others on a social level.

“Perhaps you should not have crouched down to his level,” Blueblood commented from his allocated space, also enjoying the show. “It would have saved you the headache.”

“Keeping good eye contact is beneficial for my social development…”

“Very stupid,” Autumn chided with what was probably a wink. Her joyful smile did little to take the pain away.

“You can stop using that word now,” I suggested. “It makes you sound a bit… ‘stupid’.” I made quote marks with my fingers to emphasise the overused word of ridicule. The removal of my hands from my face proved to be a foolish idea, as another flick to my sensitive skin caused me to cry out again.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Autumn shouted back at me, making a show of frustration. She kept a frown on her face, but it’d lost much of its authenticity.

“I’m not. I’m just saying that you could do with expanding your vocabulary.”

“…What? Whatever.”

And there you go. Her dour mood returned as she slumped back to her corner. Or at least, she would have done- had I not asked her another question.

“Why the name ‘Autumn’?”

“What?”

“Is there a reason that you’re called ‘Autumn’?”

“…”

“…”

Autumn looked down at the floor, staring at the slabs in concentration. As I coerced the girl from her corner, she thought about an answer to give.

“…They said I looked like the Fall leaves, but ‘Fall’ was a stupid name.”

The griffon’s vulnerability was only partially visible before this exchange, yet it now shone almost blindingly. She had fully disappeared into her corner again after this latest overshare. I was probably pushing it by dragging her back out again.

“I don’t think it’s a stupid name.”

“…Both of ‘em are stupid names.”

“Of course, they’re not. Both suit you very well.”

“Yeah,” Fairfeather unfortunately interjected. “But they could’ve picked an angrier name like ‘Volcano’ or ‘Molten’-”

Fairfeather was thankfully interrupted by a resounding slap.

“Shut up.”

“You absolutely deserved that,” I commented, pointing at the injured griffon as he rubbed the side of his face. My amusement was short lived, though, as my momentary lapse of concentration left me vulnerable to a slap of my own.

“I said, ‘Shut up’!” Autumn barked at me, almost sullenly so. “I don’t like it. So, stop.” She sat back down and crossed her forelimbs over her torso, resembling a human crossing their arms.

“Alright, alright. It’s too late for any more repressed emotions anyway,” I relented. “I’m finding somewhere to sleep.”

“Help yourself,” Fairfeather gleefully gestured towards the cold stone in front of him. I couldn’t be arsed to say anything; instead, I wordlessly lay down and tried to find respite within the slabs.

“That’s twice, now, that she’s given you a deserved beating!” Blueblood concluded with renewed smugness. Like clockwork, we all completely ignored him, instead trying to find a comfortable piece of stone to rest our injured heads.

“I’m beginning to think that you all dislike me.”