As had become her routine, Gillian awoke at roughly the crack of dawn.
Uncurling herself from her nest, the young griffoness proceeded to do a series of stretches, getting all of the kinks out of her limbs and grayish brown body. This was followed by some light grooming so to smooth out any furry patches that’d been ruffled in her sleep. Since a mirror wasn’t among the scant belongings in her nest, she did this mostly by sight for the parts she could easily bring into view and by touch for those she could not by feeling around with her talons. She found it a very imperfect way to groom, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Fortunately, this morning it seemed only the white fluff of her underbelly had been mussed up, from about the top of her stomach up to the base of where the dark brown speckling went down from her haunch past her withers and onto her neck, and thus simple to smooth out.
That all done, she strolled out of her nest and along the ridge of the schoolhouse roof it sat upon, scanning the surrounding terrain lit in the golden glow of sunrise for any creatures she’d want to either avoid or keep an eye out for. This early in the morning there were barely any—apparently most slept through sunrise—but Gillian wanted to be sure anyway, as a reassurance for herself. Her taking up residence at the base of the schoolhouse’s bell tower was starting to get around after all. She always knew it would eventually, but it seemed it was happening faster than she liked. In any case, she stood ready to act against any creature that tried to interfere with her makeshift residence, or at least beat a hasty escape if it was clear chasing away intruders wouldn’t be enough.
It hadn’t come to that yet, but Gillian still dreaded the day that it did. It would be just her luck.
However, except for a couple of early morning songbirds passing by that knew perfectly well to give her a wide berth or else risk becoming a meal or worse, nobody else was around the empty school grounds until around five to ten minutes after the sun had cleared the highest peak on the horizon. Then, like clockwork, the local mailmare came trotting up the path leading past the school. Gillian reflexively ducked away when she started coming into view, but in the back of her head she questioned if it really mattered. She had at first assumed the gray pegasus’s vision to be on the poorer side, given the lopsided pupils she sported, but apparently she was much more observant than she looked since she figured out pretty quickly Gillian was discreetly watching her deliver the school’s mail every morning.
And this morning was no different, as even though Gillian was certain there was no way the mare could see her while pressing herself into a shadowy nook inside the bell tower, the mail carrier still looked right at her as she arrived before smiling and waving a friendly hoof at her. Gillian, as always, did not return it, not about to confirm she actually was here, but somehow she had the nagging feeling the mare knew the wave was acknowledged and privately appreciated anyway. Whatever the case, this was pretty much the full extent of their interaction as the pegasus returned her attention to delivering today’s mail. That done, she reached once more into her bag and pulled out another item—one Gillian was much more interested in—and gently placed it atop of the mailbox posted in front of the school building. Nodding to herself in satisfaction, the mailmare then trotted off for the next destination on her route.
The moment she went out of immediate view, Gillian swooped down, snatched up the warm muffin—oatmeal raisin today—and flapped back up to her rooftop nest so to quietly snarf down the pastry. Gillian had been uncertain at first if the mailmare was really leaving the muffins for her specifically the first few times it happened, but it quickly became clear that she was. She wasn’t sure if it was the mare’s way of saying she was looking out for the griffoness or just a way to be friendly, but either way, Gillian’s griffon pride strongly questioned her accepting something she should be getting on her own. She justified to herself that it actually wasn’t a free handout though so long as she had to come out and grab the muffin herself like it was any other prey, and thus an exception. Besides, a tasty muffin every morning had proven to be a welcome breakfast, helping to put something in an otherwise empty stomach, and it’d just be wasted food if she didn’t.
Of course, the muffins also tended to be full of bran and despite having been eating one a day for nearly two weeks, her body was still getting used to all the added fiber which inevitably resulted in…other needs. There was a toilet inside of the schoolhouse, but the building was still locked at this hour and she didn’t want to risk getting caught sneaking in and the pony police sent her way. So she’d opted very early on to address such needs elsewhere. The row of bushes running towards the back of the school grounds, more than big enough to provide cover, suited her well enough for this purpose. She figured that, from the looks of it, the bushes could use the added fertilizer anyway.
She had to be quick about it though, because usually not long after the mailmare came Mr. Catkin and she knew better than to expect the same sort of friendly treatment from him, if he ever got the chance to approach her. So not wanting him to, she swiftly finished up her business and swooped back up to the roof to hide in the bell tower again, hidden from his view but where she could still somewhat see him. She did so today just before his arrival at the school grounds which he immediately started to survey with narrowed eyes.
Gillian had determined through observation that he was the groundskeeper for the school, and despite the flowery-sounding name, the old and graying earth pony was much more short-tempered than sweet. Mr. Catkin (he insisted upon being referred to as “mister” by anyone he spoke with) apparently took great pride in his work, to the point of not responding well to anything interpreted as endangering the domain he was so protective of. So of course he didn’t like the idea of Gillian lurking on the property and doing anything he didn’t approve of. Not that he could do much about it—Gillian was much too quick and nimble for him. In fact, she was fairly confident he’d never gotten even a glimpse of her, really only knowing she was there at all because of indirect evidence she couldn’t prevent leaving behind, the rumor mill starting to murmur about her, and of course her nest, which she couldn’t really hide from view. But that was still enough to rub Mr. Catkin the wrong way, resulting in a rivalry of him trying to catch her in the act of…well, anything he could…and her doing everything possible to ensure he never got to.
That routine was actually starting to get a little old hat, honestly. “I know you’re still here, griffon!” he began by bellowing loudly as he always did when he inevitably couldn’t see where she was. “Just because you’re out of sight doesn’t mean you’re out of mind, much less welcome!”
He paused for a moment, as if expecting Gillian to reply, but she wasn’t an idiot. She kept her peace and let the echo of his shouting be the only reply he got. Besides, she kind of liked the image of the stallion shouting at seemingly nothing like a crazy pony.
Eventually, Mr. Catkin snorted and pressed on with what he was actually here to do. “I’m still watching out for you!” he reminded while gathering his usual array of tools. “You can’t hide forever, and when I finally do, I’ll make sure you’re chased off these grounds for good!”
Precisely the reason why that was a scenario Gillian wanted to avoid. But she wasn’t especially worried so long as she remained out of his sight, since the most he could do himself was to try and remove her nest from its spot on the roof. Considering that was where what little she still had was, this wasn’t desired. But for the earth pony the only way up was with a ladder, and the last time he tried that, Gillian was able to sneakily knock the ladder over before he’d gotten very far in scaling it. And not only had he not yet figured out a way to keep that from happening again, they both knew removing the nest wouldn’t accomplish much—Gillian could just rebuild it after he’d left if she absolutely had to. Hence the unproductive shouting instead since this all left them in a stalemate, at least until circumstances changed.
Either way, Mr. Catkin ranted on as he got to his actual job. “After all, I know about what you’re doing in my bushes!” he said as he did so. “So I know to watch out for the signs of you not treating them with respect! And so help me should I ever step in something around them, because then I’m coming after you with my shovel!” he held up his very nonthreatening gardening trowel at that threat.
Gillian just scoffed at the jab anyway. She knew to cover up what she left behind after all.
Mr. Catkin did genuinely like working as a groundskeeper though, so once well into doing that, it typically calmed him enough for at least the shouting to stop. Not that he still wasn’t keeping an eye out for her, as evidenced by him spinning around at any noise or sign he thought might be her (it never was), so she was effectively pinned down until he finished, unable to leave without being spotted. It occurred to her not for the first time that she could just time things so that she’s off flying around hunting for prey whenever he was here. But she didn’t trust her nest, and more importantly everything in it, would stay safe and untampered with while he was here without her watching over it. So the waiting game it was.
The next noteworthy event of the day didn’t come until a little later into the morning, as Mr. Catkin was finishing up his daily work. That was when the schoolteacher, Cheerilee, arrived so to get her classroom ready for the day. The earth pony appeared as she always did, with saddlebags full of school papers, a yellow sunhat perched atop her pale rose colored mane, and humming a cheery tune. Humming that was always interrupted upon Mr. Catkin noticing her and immediately darting up.
Cheerilee sighed wearily as she saw him coming. “What is it this time, Mr. Catkin?” she asked in more of a groan than anything, more interested in pulling out the mail from the mailbox than giving the older stallion her full attention.
Gillian wasn’t sure if Mr. Catkin ever paid attention the mare’s tone though. “That griffon is still hanging around here, Miss Cheerilee, I’m certain of it!”
“Well, considering her nest is clearly still there, I’d be surprised if she wasn’t,” Cheerilee replied, nodding her head in the direction of said nest before focusing on adding the mail to her saddlebags.
“When are you going to do something about that?” Mr. Catkin then pressed, following her to the school’s front door. “Hasn’t this farce gone on long enough?”
“She’s not been causing anyone any harm,” Cheerilee reminded on automatic while unlocking the door.
“She’s causing my bushes harm!” Mr. Catkin argued.
Cheerilee paused to glance around the edge of the building. “Really? Seems to me they’ve been doing better than ever before.”
Gillian couldn’t help but stifle a snicker at that pointed remark.
Mr. Catkin was undeterred though. “She’s squatting on town property and you know it!”
“The town charter clearly states that flying creatures are allowed to perch wherever they please so long as it is agreed they aren’t violating privacies or causing damage or other harm—I checked.”
“This is going a bit beyond mere perching! She’s practically taken residence up there!”
“Until it interferes with the operation of this school, I’m not sure there’s a need to intervene.” Cheerilee turned to give Mr. Catkin a pointed look as she opened the door. “You let sleeping griffons lie, after all.”
“That’s sleeping dragons,” Mr. Catkin corrected in annoyance. “But—”
“I am aware of the situation, Mr. Catkin, and rest assured, I’m keeping an eye on it,” Cheerilee interrupted to make clear. “But I have always kept this school welcoming to all creatures who wish to visit it, and I’m not about to change that just because you’re annoyed about a young griffoness nesting on the roof.”
“So you’re ignoring that she’s here, then.”
“I’d much rather invite her to join my class, since she’s already here daily.”
Gillian did notice how Cheerilee said that at a higher volume than everything else, clearly hoping that she was listening to the schoolteacher’s words.
Not that it changed anything, despite the kind intentions.
“You don’t even know who she is,” Mr. Catkin objected.
“Nor do you,” Cheerilee reminded. “So unless you have a serious reason to justify forcing her away, I must ask you leave the matter to me to handle.”
She then entered the school and shut the door behind her, signaling the conversation ended. Mr. Catkin fumed about it as he usually did for a few moments, but his hooves otherwise tied, he relented and finished the last of his tasks. Then upon throwing a few more threats Gillian’s way (more or less, as he directed it in completely the wrong direction from where Gillian was actually lurking) he finally left for the day. Gillian waited for several more minutes just in case he doubled back for something or Cheerilee reemerged from within the classroom for whatever reason, both of which did occasionally happen but didn’t today, before finally crawling out of her hiding spot and plopping down into her nest. Out of paranoia she double-checked to make sure everything was still there and as she left it, even though she knew no one else had been at it today except her, then turned her attention back to the next item on today’s agenda.
Her stomach readily agreed with that plan, because while the muffin earlier gave it something to work on, it alone wasn’t enough to fill it. And it hadn’t been enjoying running at less than a full tank as of late, so Gillian stretched her wings and took flight, swooping and scouting around the land generally surrounding the school grounds. One advantage to the school’s position was that it was on the edge of the small country town that was Ponyville, where other places of residency thinned considerably and left a lot of the area’s natural wilderness more or less unmolested by civilization. A place where lots of tasty little critters had made their homes.
In fact, the area was ideal for the populations of wild field mice and other like rodents lurking within it, many of which were easy prey for a griffon. Gillian assumed it was because, up until her arrival, the worst predators they ever had to deal with were various predatory birds that’d also caught on to the spot being an ideal hunting ground. But she’d managed to chase away nearly all of those birds of prey upon proving they couldn’t compete…save for one amber-colored owl that Gillian was convinced was a local due to how frequently he appeared. And she was always sure it was him too, because while he was smart enough to not fly in her way, she could always feel his eyes staring at her like a librarian shushing a noisy patron.
Whatever the case, Gillian could pretty much snag prey as she pleased here. Maybe a bit too well even, because at first it was easy to get her fill of critters to munch on. But as the days went on, the populations seemed to get scanter and scanter and her having a harder and harder time making as many catches. Today, when she managed to catch only one undersized mouse that too easily slid down her gullet in one bite, she started to wonder for the first time if she’d inadvertently overhunted the area. Except for the morning muffins, she had pretty much been getting all of her food from solely this area since taking up residence here. She probably should’ve been hunting around a far greater range than this…but she was reluctant to wander too far from her nest, for fear of something happening to it if she was gone from it for too long.
As the one mouse settled into her still not quite full enough belly though, she told herself she’d still be able to manage. Probably. She didn’t see a ready alternative at least.
By the time she got back to the school, classes had already started for the day, having missed the arrival of all of its students. This was largely by design though, given the students gossiping about the griffoness lurking around didn’t need Gillian fanning the flames. After all, the less public attention she brought to herself the better. In fact, keeping away from the school entirely during class time was probably the smarter decision, but again, she didn’t want to be away from her nest that long and there wasn’t anywhere else ideal to build it at, not without moving somewhere further away from the school entirely.
And she didn’t want to do that. There was, after all, a reason why she chose to settle here above anywhere else, one that, for her, overruled these risks.
For now, she curled up under a makeshift awning attached to her nest and flipped through a book on ponies brought with her from Griffonstone, enjoying the cooling shade the awning managed to give her while waiting out the morning classes. But once the sun neared the peak of its arc and signaled the coming of noon, she eagerly put the book aside, double-checked to make sure no one was watching, and flew off the roof again, this time swooping around and deep into the foliage just beyond the boundary marking the edge of the school grounds (past Mr. Catkin’s precious bushes). There, where the vegetation mostly separated one’s view between this secluded spot and the school and thus guaranteeing a degree of privacy, an old and rusting garbage can sat upside-down on the ground. Gillian landed and passed the time by fitfully walking in circles around it, unable to sit still whilst the bell signaling the school’s lunch break rang nearby. This was the one time of the day where Gillian had the chance to set aside some of her self-seclusion and indulge a little in the direct socialization she longed for more than she cared to admit, a moment that took a lot of patience to wait until it next rolled around.
Fortunately, Gillian wasn’t left waiting long before there was a cautious rustling within the surrounding greenery. Soon after a grayish earth pony filly with glasses and a braid in her pale opal mane pushed her way into the small spot, a sack lunch balanced on her back.
Gillian, as her griffon pride demanded, maintained an aloof look outwardly, but inwardly she was thrilled to see the pony she’d come to know over these long couple of weeks. “Hey Spoony,” she greeted in a teasing tone.
Silver Spoon, to her credit, remained unfazed by the unflattering nickname as always, her only outward reaction being to briefly raise a solitary eyebrow. “Hey Shorty,” she greeted back in a similar tone, nodding her head at the griffon.
Gillian remained impressed by the pony’s talent at sass, something Silver Spoon seemed to have on par with the average griffon, despite herself being the first griffon Silver Spoon had ever met face-to-face. During their first meeting, instead of taking immediate offense as Gillian had expected when dubbing her Spoony (in reference to the silver spoon design the filly wore on her flanks), Silver Spoon didn’t loose a beat and returned the favor by dubbing Gillian “Shorty.” A teasing nickname Gillian found amusingly ironic, seeing she was a couple years older than the filly as well as the taller of the two. But as Silver Spoon had justified it, Gillian was still shorter than an adult griffon, which was true, so Gillian accepted the nickname regardless.
They’d become fast friends after that, despite their mutual agreement on the oddness of it.
“So,” Gillian continued, eager to get into it, “you ready to once more go toe-to-toe with an economic juggernaut?” She then, with one swift heft, lifted the upside-down garbage can from its spot, revealing a game board perched atop a short stool. Their game pieces were still safely where they’d left them the day previous, the old trash can having shielded them from the elements in the meantime.
“Well, as I recall,” Silver Spoon slyly replied as they sat down to their game of Oligarchy already-in-progress and opened her sack lunch, “I was beating you in trading at the end of yesterday’s lunch break.”
“This is true,” Gillian readily conceded as she quickly refreshed her memory on where they were at in the game. She smirked. “But you’ve still got a long way to go before you can even match my current profits, let alone exceed them.”
“Well, we’ll just have to see about that then, won’t we?” Silver Spoon confidently replied back.
So they resumed playing the game of capitalist prowess and marketing wit, exchanging playful jabs at each other along the way as they tried to outplay each other. As they did so, Silver Spoon proceeded to eat her lunch with her free hoof. Today she was enjoying an apple, some carrot sticks, and a sandwich of tomato, lettuce, and a generous layer of mayonnaise. It was a typically vegetarian meal for a pony and Gillian’s first thought upon seeing it was how much it was crying out for some actual meat to be added to it. Nevertheless, Gillian thought the sandwich still looked pretty darn good…
Silver Spoon must’ve noticed her eyeing it. “…You want some?” she offered eventually.
Gillian immediately shook her head and tried to refocus on the game, ignoring the cravings of her stomach. “No, it’s your lunch and I’m not about to take it from you.”
“Are you sure? I’m more than fine sharing it.”
“A good griffon looks after themselves. Besides, I won’t take any favors I can’t repay, Spoony.”
“Gillian…”
“I’m fine. Seriously.”
Silver Spoon didn’t look entirely convinced, but nonetheless let the subject drop as the game resumed. A couple more turns progressed without incident, but now it was Silver Spoon who seemed a bit distracted.
“Are you sure you want to keep doing this?” she asked the griffoness after a moment.
“I’d think so,” Gillian replied, having just completed a good turn. “At this rate, if I keep expanding my subsidiaries into the southern section of the board…”
“I don’t mean the game,” Silver Spoon interjected, gently placing a hoof into the middle of the board so to halt the playing. “I mean you being…out here.”
Gillian went quiet for a long moment, her golden eyes turning unfocused. “Where else would I go at this point, Spoony?” she asked seriously.
“We could try setting you up at my place. Maybe…maybe I can swing getting you into the guest room if…”
“Your businesspony dad would never go for that, me being the strange griffon and all.”
Silver Spoon frowned at her friend’s tone. “Look, my dad might be…shrewd and elitist…but my mom’s really active in charities and stuff. She’d be interested in helping if I can fill her in on your situation.”
“The mother you’ve also complained about never being around?”
Silver Spoon opened her mouth to object, found that she couldn’t, and closed it again, letting her head droop.
Gillian sighed, lowering her gaze too. “I know what you’re trying to do here, Silver Spoon,” she acknowledged solemnly. “And I…I appreciate it. Seriously, I do. You’ve been way nicer to me than you should’ve been throughout this. But…this is something I need to manage myself. It’s…a griffon thing.”
Silver Spoon’s disagreement was clear. “…and if you can’t?”
Gillian took a deep and resolute breath. “That’s not an option.” And maybe stating so would actually make it a reality. Or at least help them both believe it could be.
They went back to playing the game but with less gusto than before, the mood having been soured somewhat. Eventually it was interrupted by the school bell tolling again, signaling the end of the lunch break. Silver Spoon glanced in the direction of the noise, sighed, and began packing up her things. “I gotta get back to class,” she mumbled as she did so. She stood and started to leave but stopped to glance back at the griffon. “Same time tomorrow, Shorty?” she asked, more hopeful than teasing this time.
Gillian nodded as she recovered their game. “Yeah,” she confirmed, “Promise.”
And by Grover, it was a promise she fully intended to keep, sink or swim.
While Silver Spoon returned to her classes, Gillian returned to her nest to brood. She tried going back to reading her book, but Silver Spoon’s show of concern weighed heavily on her mind. The filly wasn’t totally wrong, after all, Gillian probably didn’t have to persist in this arrangement she’d set up for herself. But if this really wasn’t working, then her best option was to bail while she still had the chance and go…somewhere. She didn’t want to leave, though. Not when she’d started getting…attached to what little she had gotten in this town of ponies. Yet she didn’t want to put her fate fully in their hooves either. She was already indebted enough to Silver Spoon and she didn’t like owing something she wasn’t sure she could repay.
She knew the trouble that came with that. She didn’t want to add to it any more than she had to.
In any case, she managed to fitfully pass the time until the school day’s close and the students left to go back to their homes. To avoid notice by unwanted eyes, Gillian retreated to her hiding spot in the bell tower, but still attempted to watch for Silver Spoon leaving as well. The filly similarly glanced around for her, though she unfortunately couldn’t see Gillian in her hiding spot.
After seeing all of the students on their way, Cheerilee would scan the school grounds for any stragglers that might’ve been missed—maybe it was just paranoia on Gillian’s part, but it seemed like Cheerilee was taking longer to do this every day, as if hoping to spy the school’s resident griffon as well—then she’d return inside to finish her own teacher work. In the past, she’d do this for about another hour before also departing at which point Gillian would finally have the school grounds to herself, free to do her own thing with much less fear of being seen or caught. Feeling a bit stressed and ready to unwind, she was looking forward to it.
But before any of that could happen, Gillian spied someone walking up the path towards the school. This wasn’t unusual in of itself, as creatures infrequently did while on their way to somewhere else. All Gillian had to do was wait for them to pass by and then not worry about them further, initially expecting to do the same here. But as they grew closer, she abruptly realized that someone wasn’t another one of the pony locals like she had assumed.
It was a griffon.
An adult griffoness to be exact, chestnut brown with a white head and a decorative scarf wrapped around her neck. She wasn’t anyone Gillian had met before but that didn’t mean much. Being a predominately pony town in the heart of Equestria, Ponyville wasn’t exactly known for its griffons. One or two would occasionally pass through, but they were still an uncommon sight. So for another to be here, now, and also approaching the spot where she, one of the few other griffons in the area, was couldn’t be mere coincidence. And as she drew closer, Gillian could see that her full attention was on the school. It was possible that she was just sightseeing, but Gillian wanted to play it safe, make sure she was even more out of sight than usual, and hope this griffon, whoever she was, wasn’t actually here to track her down instead.
So before she got close enough to spy her lurking on the roof, Gillian darted into the safety of the bell tower. From there she watched her come closer before huddling even further into her concealed ledge when the griffoness purposefully walked up the path to the school’s door, validating her fears. From there the griffoness knocked and held a hushed conversation with Cheerilee just inside the doorway. Gillian could only catch bits and pieces from here, but it was enough to confirm she was inquiring about her—apparently word had gotten around more than she thought and the griffoness had come to investigate.
She knew Cheerilee wouldn’t be able to tell her anything she probably hadn’t already heard, but it didn’t matter at this point. Was this the end of the whole affair? Had this griffoness come to take her away? Because if she was, Gillian didn’t plan to make it easy. In fact, she was hoping that, not knowing where she was hiding, this intruder would assume she wasn’t here currently, leave to go searching for her, and give her the chance to plan her next move. That theory was soon put to the test as she heard the griffoness flap on up to the roof. Gillian tensed in her hiding spot, but again told herself to let the griffon see she wasn’t in her nest and leave before making a move. She didn’t like trusting that nothing would happen to her stuff doing that, but it was her best option, like it or not, so still better her nest than herself.
Unfortunately, the griffoness didn’t pay any attention to her nest, strolling right past it and straight to the bell tower, poking her head inside and making eye contact with the surprised Gillian pretty much instantly. They stared at each other for a moment, Gillian with a shocked, almost deer-in-the-lantern-lights look and the griffoness with a decidedly more cool look, apparently having already anticipated Gillian would be hiding here.
Eventually, she made a casual lean on one of the structural supports for the bell tower’s roof. “So…you come here often?” she quipped.
Gillian just blinked owlishly at her, frozen with uncertainty on what, if anything, she should do next.
Noticing, the griffoness gave her a friendly grin. “It’s okay, I won’t bite.” She reached out with one paw in a peaceful offering.
Gillian, however, did not accept the paw and instead hunkered further away from the intruding griffon. “How did you know I was here?” she finally demanded, deciding she needed to know.
The griffoness just shrugged. “I figured that, if I were you, this is where I would try to hide,” she answered simply. “Anyway, I’m Greta. You got a name?”
Gillian deliberately opted to not answer the question, instead asking another of her own. “Why are you here?”
“Word was getting around about you roosting up here, and I figured that, as a fellow griffon, I’d check in on you.”
“And then what?” Gillian glared at Greta suspiciously. “What do you want from me?”
Greta shrugged again. “Just that you’re doing all right, I guess.”
Gillian scowled, doubting. “I’m doing fine, thank you.”
“Mm-hmm.” Greta didn’t sound especially convinced but she didn’t press the matter for now. “So…you wanna come down from there and talk about it?”
If Gillian not budging wasn’t answer enough, her blunt response was. “No.”
Greta nonetheless waited a moment in case Gillian relented anyway. When she didn’t, she shrugged for a third time. “All right then, I guess I’ll just keep myself preoccupied.”
And with that, she ducked back out of the bell tower but didn’t leave the roof either. Gillian wasn’t sure what her game was, but if she was really going to let Gillian have a say in it, she figured all she’d need to do was out-wait her. Surely she couldn’t sit around forever after all.
But turned out Greta had other ways of luring her out, though Gillian never did quite figure out if she deliberately planned it that way. “So where’s the Hook-Nosed Club anyway?” she asked from the vicinity of Gillian’s nest.
Gillian’s heart leapt into her throat and without thinking she reflexively bounded out of the bell tower and thumped into her nest, throwing her talons over top of the small maroon with gold trim membership medallion Greta had been reading the words off of, having spied it from where Gillian had been hiding it. “Leave that alone!” she snapped at the older griffon, quickly stuffing it deeper under her other belongings.
Greta, to her credit, quickly backed off without protest, putting up her forepaws in innocent surrender. “Sorry,” she said, attempting to placate the younger griffoness. “Just saw it glinting in the sun and was curious.”
“Well, stop it,” Gillian growled, planting herself between the medallion’s hiding spot and the intruder. She decided they might as well stop playing games and cut to the chase. “Why are you here anyway?”
“I told you—I heard you were here and wanted to…”
“No, why are you here in Ponyville at all?”
“Oh!” Greta perked up a little at this and jabbed a claw back towards the center of town, easily visible from the school’s roof. “A friend of mine is opening up a soda shop here.”
Gillian furrowed her brow at that, surprised the reason was apparently unrelated to herself. “…there’s a griffon trying to open a shop here?” she asked, surprised by the idea.
“I wish!” Greta replied with a smirk. “Not that I have anything against ponies, but it’d be nice to see more griffons around here more of the time. No, Goldengrape’s a pony, but he makes these great smoothies, so he’s been saving up to open his own place to sell them at, and, well…he needs my help crunching the numbers side of the business.”
Gillian felt her suspicions rising again. “…and how exactly did you end up friends with a pony?”
“Oh, that’s a long story best saved for another day,” Greta assured. “But we’ve been good friends for a bit now, enough for him to know I can do accounting, so he offered me the job.”
“So…you’re not even just passing through, you’re actually here to stay.”
“That’s the plan!” Greta shook her head though. “But never mind that, it’s not really relevant. Besides, I could ask you the same thing—how did you end up friends with a pony?”
Gillian tensed. She must’ve figured out why she chose to build her nest here at the school. “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she dismissed, playing dumb. Last thing she needed was this griffon going and bugging her own pony friend next.
Unfortunately, Greta didn’t need to. “Really? Because Silver Spoon seems to be the one most familiar with you.” Noticing Gillian’s immediate shock, Greta motioned for her to stay calm. “Relax, she didn’t sell you out. In fact, she denied everything when I asked. I just put two with two anyway.” She gave Gillian an apologetic grin. “No offense, but you’ve not really been as subtle about all of this as you seem to think.”
This did nothing to reassure Gillian except make her wonder if all her precautions had been for nothing. Though taking care to keep her eyes on Greta, she curled up in her nest in concern. “So…what?” she prompted of Greta after a second of processing this. “What do you want from me?”
“Truthfully, just what I said before—to know you’re doing okay.” Greta’s gaze softened. “There’s a lot of creatures that are getting a little worried about you, you know.”
Gillian scoffed, feigning indifference. “What do they care? They don’t know me.”
“That’s kind of why I came to meet you, kid,” Greta pressed on, allowing herself a small show of concern, “Because I’m a griffon too, and we’re both a long way from the Griffon Kingdom, so if anyone could relate, I figure I’d have the best chance.”
“You don’t know anything about me either.” Gillian argued. She pretended not to hear the uncertain waver in her own voice.
“No, but I’m interested in finding out.” Greta paused to see if Gillian would pick up on the subtle prompt to elaborate. When she didn’t, she started asking questions of her own. “Did…you fly all the way here to Ponyville by yourself? Why? Do you have anything to your name except for what you’ve got in there?” She nodded her head at Gillian’s nest. “Do you even have anything back home? Anyone looking out for you?” Her concern grew even more visible. “Where are your parents, anyway?”
Greta’s questioning was striking a nerve for Gillian though. “All right, that’s enough!” she snapped suddenly, standing again on unsteady and emotional legs. “Are you here to take me away?”
Greta pulled back in surprise at that. “What? No! I couldn’t even if I wanted to, I don’t have the authority.” She jabbed a thumb down at the school underneath their feet. “Besides, Miss Cheerilee made it clear she isn’t going to press charges on you, so as long as you keep behaving, I guess you can keep staying here if you really want, but—”
“Then let me!” Gillian exclaimed. “I can look after myself, and I don’t need you trying to…to…butt in…just because you’re, I don’t know, curious or whatever!”
Greta studied her for a long moment, troubled thoughts visibly whirring behind her eyes. “…I just wanted to see if you needed help,” she finally summed up.
“Well, I don’t!” Gillian snorted determinedly. She turned around so to put her back to Greta, her way of signaling the discussion was over. “I can do this on my own.”
Behind her, Greta remained silent for a long moment. “Then I guess you’re a true griffon then,” she murmured aloud before turning to leave. “Too stubborn and self-dependent to even consider if you might be in over your head.”
Her words stung more than Gillian wanted them to. But Greta took flight again and sailed away before Gillian could finish considering if she wanted to reply or not. She half expected her to come back, so Gillian remained where she was for some time just in case she did. She told herself it was because she didn’t want Greta rooting around in her nest again if she wasn’t here to stop her. But as the minutes turned into an hour, there was no sign of the older griffoness returning. By then, Cheerilee had finished with her work in the school and locked up to leave. For the first time, the teacher was able to make eye-contact with Gillian, since the griffon wasn’t in the mood to try and keep out of her sight this time, but the mare didn’t do or say anything beyond give her a concerned but respective look.
Gillian, as originally expected, had the school grounds effectively to herself after that. But Greta’s visit had soured her mood, so she spent most of it sulking in her nest until the sun started to set and her belly rumbled, longing for something to be put into it. So she flew off for a bit to try and hunt, but again she found the catches slim and her distressed mind wasn’t helping. She managed to catch a small frog that didn’t really sit well on her mostly empty stomach, but at that point she didn’t care, called it dinner enough, and flew back to her nest. There, she spent the lonely evening watching the sun set and the stars slowly come out one by one. She then pulled out the membership medallion Greta had been messing with and fiddled with it in her talons, determined to keep her tears within her before finally falling asleep for the night. She told herself it didn’t matter anyway.
This all changed nothing.
The days passed. Gillian’s routine remained mostly unchanged and notably without interruption from other meddling griffons. But, as Gillian would find out, that didn’t mean Greta had given up entirely, and when she didn’t get the answers she was hoping for from Gillian, it seemed she went elsewhere to search for them.
“There have been creatures asking about you,” Silver Spoon blurted out without warning a day or so later during another lunch break session of Oligarchy.
Gillian tensed, feeling a sense of alarm building within her. “Well…can’t exactly just pop into town and not have somepony notice eventually. But so long as they stay out of the way—”
“One of them was a griffon.” Silver Spoon actually looked apologetic. “I didn’t want to get you panicked, but…”
Gillian’s head initially whipped up at that reveal, but she let it sink again in a small groan as she realized who it was. “Don’t worry, Spoony, I’ve already met her,” she assured somewhat dejectedly.
Silver Spoon winced, as if realizing how unassuring it was. “…do you think she’s here to…?”
“No,” Gillian assured. “I don’t think she actually means any harm or anything. She just…wants to know more.”
Silver Spoon took a moment to process this information. “Maybe she could help then?”
Gillian shook her head. “I’m handling this myself, Spoony,” she said as she always did. “And I’ll survive.”
Silver Spoon went quiet for a moment as she watched the griffon make a move on the game board. “But is surviving really enough?” she asked aloud.
It was only a rhetorical question that the filly didn’t seriously expect an answer to. But Gillian found she didn’t have an answer anyway. At least none that she liked. After all, she couldn’t deny that the routine had ended up presenting more challenges than she’d expected. The most notable being the surrounding land she’d been relying on for prey wasn’t so plentiful anymore. She still wasn’t sure why. Either she had managed to thin it a lot more than she thought, or the animal populace wised up to the new dominant predator and moved to somewhere outside of where she’d been hunting. All she did know for sure was that her belly had noticed the drop in food and was making its displeasure known pretty much daily now.
But Gillian had been keeping this problem to herself. She’d think of a solution eventually. She had to.
Besides, she was still getting a muffin every morning thanks to the daily visits of the mailmare, so it wasn’t like she was going completely hungry. Either way, the routine continued undeterred on into the weekend, which were a bit unique in comparison to the rest of the week. The mailmare with the usual fresh muffin still came by at the same time, but there was otherwise no classes held over the weekend. So there was no Cheerilee, no students, not even Mr. Catkin. Silver Spoon tried to spare some time to swing by and visit if her parents didn’t have her busy with something else, but this had already proven hit and miss for past weekends. It ultimately meant, then, that Gillian had a whole day free to do as she pleased, with fairly little concern of needing to maintain the usual caution about being seen.
Problem was, she usually never knew how to spend that time.
This particular weekend though, she didn’t feel like she had the energy and decided to stay mostly at her nest today. She didn’t even really feel like there was much point trying to hunt—she was hardly turning up anything now. She certainly hadn’t the night previous. She feebly reasoned in her head that maybe, if she backed off for awhile, any prey that had fled for safety would notice her apparent absence and come back, giving her something to hunt again. A long shot, perhaps, but the alternative was going further away for food and she still wasn’t ready for that just yet.
In fact, she didn’t really want to think about the problem at all today, so after disposing of a previous day’s muffin behind Mr. Catkin’s bushes, as was the routine, Gillian proceeded back to her nest intent on finding something to distract herself from all that.
Finding Greta already waiting for her next to her nest wasn’t quite what she had in mind though. “You know, you’re going to end up over-fertilizing those bushes at this rate,” the elder griffon quipped when the other landed on the rooftop in surprise.
Gillian attempted to hide her embarrassed blush at that. “What are you doing here?” she asked, trying to sound annoyed.
“Figured it time to try this all again,” Greta replied like it should be obvious. “You should’ve known I’d at least pop by to check on you again.”
Gillian frowned. “Well, it’s not changing anything,” she assured the adult. “I’m not interested in talking with you.”
“Aw, that’s too bad,” Greta said as Gillian started to turn away. “Guess I’ll just have to have these double bacon cheeseburgers all to myself then.”
Gillian glanced back at Greta in time to see the griffon pull out from behind her a large brown paper bag which she shook invitingly at Gillian. The absolutely heavenly smell that also chose that moment to waft her way proved Greta wasn’t bluffing either, and Gillian’s beak started watering like a faucet that’d been left on.
Greta knew she had her attention too. “They’re still fresh and warm too,” she promised, reaching into the bag and pulling out one of the paper-wrapped burgers, holding it out as an alluring offering to the other griffon.
Without thinking, Gillian started to reach out to accept it, then forced herself to stop partway and withdraw again with a wince. “I can’t,” she admitted with an almost disappointed sigh. “I don’t have anything to repay you with.”
“Yeah, I figured you might say that, you being so stubbornly self-dependent,” Greta assured with a grin. “So tell you what—you can have the burger in exchange for sitting down and talking with me. Deal?”
Gillian knew Greta’s game and naturally didn’t want to play, but the matter was basically settled the moment her stomach loudly informed her brain: “Girl, you’ve barely had anything to eat since yesterday—TAKE THE DANG BURGER ALREADY!” So, her choice made for her, Gillian gave in and accepted the proffered burger at last. Satisfied, Greta motioned for her to take a seat by patting a spot beside her then pulled out a second burger for herself. Gillian did so, hesitating a moment before her hunger finally drove her to just rip off the paper wrapping and stuff a large bite of the sizable burger into her beak.
It tasted just as heavenly as it smelled.
“There, now that we’ve got that settled,” Greta began as she took a more humble bite from her own burger, “Let’s start with something simple. As I recall, you already know my name, so what’s yours?”
Gillian didn’t reply right away, using her full beak as an excuse to avoid it for as long as she could. But she had to swallow eventually, especially as her stomach was clamoring to get at that mouthful as soon as it could, so she knew there would be no avoiding it this time. “…Gillian,” she finally answered.
Greta made a warm grin at that. “Nice you meet you, Gillian.”
“Mm,” Gillian grunted back before taking another large bite of burger. “Where did you even get these?” she asked, knowing burgers of any type were very hard to come by in the mostly vegetarian populace of Equestria.
“I made them myself,” Greta replied and gave her a wink. “I happen to know my way around a grill.”
Gillian didn’t want to admit it, but Greta wasn’t kidding—both the bacon and the burger were grilled to perfection. “Then where did you get the meat?”
“Know a supplier who hooked me up, then I just asked Goldengrape if I could borrow his stove.”
Gillian couldn’t help but snicker at the idea of the pony finding his kitchen smelling like grilled meat. “I’m sure he loved that.”
“Eh, he once saw me down a whole mouse, so he’s already seen worse,” Greta assured with a chuckle of her own. “Besides, I figure you needed it.” She turned more serious. “You might have fooled the others, you might have even fooled yourself, but you can’t fool another griffon…you get much thinner and I’ll be able to count your ribs from afar.”
She let that sobering thought sink in for a moment. Gillian, knowing deep down she couldn’t and shouldn’t deny it, remained quiet, focusing on eating more of her burger.
Then Greta shifted her position so to better face Gillian. “Anyway, how about you tell me how you came to be in Ponyville?”
Gillian sighed, recognizing the need to fulfill her end of the deal. “You were right before, I flew here,” she admitted.
“All the way from the Griffon Kingdom?” Greta sounded impressed.
“Well…I did perch on the roof of a train for part of the trip,” Gillian added. At least until the train conductor noticed her there and chased her off.
“Still, that’s pretty impressive for your age,” Greta observed. She poked Gillian in the wing. “Betcha you’ve got some nice flight endurance then.”
Gillian shrugged, indifferent. “I just did what I needed to,” she said. She paused to take another bite of her burger. “As for Ponyville…I hadn’t really planned to end up here specifically, but I got caught up in this big storm the ponies had set up here. Apparently they plan out that sort of thing in advance…?”
“Yeah, they’re big on weather management around here,” Gillian explained. “They’re just neurotic that way, I guess.”
Gillian snorted in amusement as she finished her burger. “Anyway, I couldn’t see where I was flying in that mess, so after nearly flying into the side of a house, I was forced to land in somebody’s backyard and take shelter.”
“…Silver Spoon’s?” Greta guessed.
Gillian nodded, avoiding eye contact sheepishly. “That’s kinda how we met, she…saw me land.” More flop unceremoniously into the grassy lawn in such a way that the filly had thought she was hurt and ran out to help. “She’s…actually the only other one I’ve told all this to.”
“And she’s been helping you out ever since?”
“…sort of. I mean, she tries to do what she can, but…”
“…but she’s still just a kid like you.”
Gillian nodded soberly. “And I figured out pretty quickly that her parents weren’t going to approve of me staying around her place, so…I built a nest here at the school. That way we could still at least see each other while allowing me to…more or less…stay out of everybody’s way the rest of the time by…looking out for myself.”
Greta nodded to herself, chewing thoughtfully on the last of her burger. “So why did you leave the Griffon Kingdom in the first place?” she asked.
Gillian hesitated. “There…just wasn’t any reason for me to stay there anymore,” she answered simply.
Greta waited to see if Gillian would say anything else. “That’s it?” she prompted when she didn’t.
“Yeah…that’s it,” Gillian replied, hoping the uncertainty in her voice wasn’t obvious. “…why?”
“I was just expecting more.”
“…well there isn’t. What else would there be?”
Greta sighed and went for broke. “Something about loan sharks demanding money, I’d think…unless you really want to claim that had nothing to do with it?” When Gillian audibly gasped, whipping her head to stare at the older griffon in shock, Greta nodded in sad confirmation. “Yeah…I know about your dad, Gillian.”
A thousand questions ran through Gillian’s mind as the realization her secret was a lost cause sank in. She gaped at Greta with wide stunned eyes for a long moment, trying to keep her panic from bursting out of her. Greta, meanwhile, patiently sat and let her process the reveal, her expression warm but somber, knowing how serious the subject was. Finally, Gillian’s mind settled on which question should take first priority—it was also the simplest to ask. “…How?”
Greta turned and pointed a talon at Gillian’s nest behind them, where the little medallion Gillian had tried to hide from her before was just visible from underneath some of her belongings. “I figured out what the Hook-Nosed Club is,” she proceeded to explain. “Turns out its just a place in Griffonstone where guys go to hang out, but I’m sure you knew that, because according to the griffons I talked to, your dad was a regular there.” Seeing Gillian’s expression going from shocked to defeated, Greta’s tone became gentle and tried to be more comforting. “They had lots of good things to say about him, Gillian, how he was a good guy trying to be a good dad. He was just—”
“—dirt poor,” Gillian interrupted to finish, hanging her head.
Greta placed a reassuring paw on her shoulder. “Look, it’s not your fault. I don’t know if it’s even fair to say it was his either because it sounded to me like he didn’t have much choice.”
Gillian curled in upon herself a little, accepting Greta clearly had learned the truth, or at least enough of it to put together the basics.“…why did you even ask me to explain if you already knew the truth?” she asked with a depressed huff.
“Because I wanted to hear your side of the story,” Greta explained. “Let you have the chance to set things straight.” She leaned down so to try and sympathetically catch Gillian’s eye again. “Can I?”
Gillian glanced at her for a moment, debating. But there was no point hiding from it now, so she relented and began revealing all. “Dad…he didn’t have the money needed to look after me, especially after mom was gone. So…he had to loan it. But the griffons he loaned it from demanded to be paid back with ridiculous amounts of interest well before he could get enough to do that, so he had to loan even more from other griffons so to pay off the first griffons, and…and basically the problem just never ended. His attempts to improve things backfired completely.”
“Why didn’t he ever ask for help out of that mess?”
“We’re griffons, Greta. We’re supposed to solve our own problems.”
Greta frowned at that. “But this was a problem he couldn’t solve on his own.”
“No…he couldn’t. But he still had to try.” Gillian buried her head in her arms. “It wore him down though,” she shuddered at the troubling memories. “Stressed him out, hurt his health, everything. Eventually it got to the point where he was pretty much bedridden, and then one day, when he was in particularly bad shape, he asked me to run and get some supplies. Just a quick run to a shop and back. Which I did, but…when I came back…” she trailed off, her sadness threatening to overwhelm her.
“…he was gone?” Greta mercifully finished for her, her voice careful, knowing how unsteady the ground they were treading was.
Gillian nodded with a groan and let her head sink even further. “The landlord, come to demand rent for the month, found his body first and had already seized our flat and everything in it as…compensation for the money he was owed. I was lucky to grab what things I could.” She sadly glanced back at the scant belongings in her nest. “I was on my own after that. But dad still had his debts, and his lenders didn’t care he was dead—they still wanted their money.”
“Money you didn’t have,” Greta surmised solemnly, “and no way of getting it yourself, not at your age.”
“So I left,” Gillian finished with a halfhearted shrug, gazing out at Ponyville laid out before the schoolhouse. “And came here, to try and…get away from all that.”
Greta nodded to herself, following her gaze. “That’s why you’re so adamant on keeping to yourself, isn’t it?” she reasoned. “It’s your way of…laying low.”
“And because I didn’t want to owe any more favors I couldn’t repay than I already did,” Gillian added, eyes glazing over a little as she let her thoughts fill her mind. Admitting all of this hadn’t helped her feel better but instead left her feeling drained, like a cardboard box just tossed aside after it’s been emptied, no longer useful. “I’d learned from my dad’s mistakes, after all.”
“I’m guessing that’s the real reason you didn’t like me getting involved, huh? You probably thought I was one of the lenders or some thug hired by them, come to track you down and make you pay anyway.”
“What was your first clue?”
A moment of silence fell after that as they gazed out at the morning horizon.
“Gillian, I get why you’ve handled all of this the way you have,” Greta then resumed abruptly, glancing at the younger griffon. “I get that you want to solve this on your own. Honestly, were the situations reversed and it was me standing in your paw prints, I’d probably want to do the same thing, out of pride and out of fear of the consequences. But sometimes…it is still okay to ask for help. Especially when you can’t get out of the hole on your own. Because its better to swallow your pride and accept the helping paw than to let yourself continue to sink into that hole until it consumes you entirely.”
Gillian scoffed at that. “What other choice did I have?” she demanded. “Even if I had tried, who could I have turned to for help?”
Greta replied by motioning at the town ahead of them in a sweeping gesture with her talons. “Truthfully, I’ve found there’s not a better place to go looking for help than right here in Ponyville.” She looked back at Gillian. “Nearly everyone in this town I spoke about you to expressed some interest in how they could help. They’ve just been waiting for you to ask. And besides, let’s be honest here.” She placed a paw on Gillian’s shoulder again, but this time for a more firm intent. “You can’t solve this on your own.”
Gillian felt her eyes start to water, knowing she was right, but she stubbornly refused to admit it. “I can’t just ask someone else to pay off those dirty loan sharks for me,” she argued, though there was no power in her words.
“Well, you don’t have to now anyway.”
“And why not?”
“Because I’ve already paid them off.”
The gasp was out of Gillian’s beak before she had even registered it was coming. She threw herself back up into a sitting position and whipped her head around to gape at Greta in shock, half-expecting to find the older griffon wasn’t serious and just pulling her tail. But Greta, though acting like it had been no big deal, had a serious look in her eye that made it abundantly clear she was not joking about this. “You…” Gillian still flabbergasted, unwilling to believe it. “…what?”
Greta just shrugged like the whole deed had been nothing more than running to buy milk. “It’s like you said—they didn’t care who they got it from, those jerks just wanted their money. So, once I knew what was up…I gave it to them.”
Gillian’s jaw worked up and down helplessly for another long moment, still trying to process this had actually happened, that this griffon she barely even knew had just paid off such a large debt for her on a whim. “But that…that was, like, at least five grand!”
“Eight, actually,” Greta clarified, but again waved it aside like it wasn’t a financial loss to her, even though Gillian was certain that was no small sum of money for her to have to pay either. Seeing Gillian’s eyes pleading for an explanation, she calmly relented. “I’ve been in the habit of saving some money for a rainy day for a few years now. Figured I could use it for something nice for myself someday.” She then made a sheepish grin. “But this was more important than that anyway, so I see it as money well spent.”
Gillian just continued to stare at her for a second longer. Then the next thing she knew she was crying, though she wasn’t totally sure why. Relief, she supposed, for it being over finally. There were probably other emotions as well, but Gillian was too overwhelmed to really try and sort them out at the moment and she wasn’t sure she cared. Right now she just needed it out of her system, and her body chose to do it through tears. Whatever the case, Greta was understanding about it, allowing Gillian a welcomed shoulder to cry on and letting her get it all out in peace without interruption.
“I know,” Greta finally murmured once the tears began to wind down, “I shouldn’t have just done that, especially not without your okay.”
“No…you shouldn’t have,” Gillian gasped, the crying having left her out of breath. Reflexively and without thinking about it though, she wrapped one wing around Greta’s back in a feathered half-hug. “…thank you.”
Greta responded by draping her own wing over Gillian. “You’re welcome.”
Gillian found herself staring into the dark chestnut of Greta’s wing for a moment, briefly musing to herself that she had a pretty plumage. “But why, though? Griffons don’t…do…this sort of thing.”
“They really should, though,” Greta merely responded back.
Gillian found she couldn’t refute that and realized she didn’t want to anyway. “…I can’t repay you.”
“You don’t need to. Don’t even worry about it.”
“…I want to though.” It seemed like the right thing to do.
So Greta gently took Gillian by the shoulders and held her in front of herself. “Then promise me that you’ll give up trying to make living up here work,” she said, motioning to Gillian’s lonely nest atop a schoolhouse. “You and I both know it’s not working anyway. Your dad clearly gave his all trying to get you this far, he wouldn’t want you to have to suffer like he had to. And I can tell you’re a smart and strong griffoness, Gillian. You deserve better than this. So please…let’s find it.” She motioned to the schoolhouse underneath them. “Cheerilee’s already said she’d be more than happy to let you join her class. That’d not just get you the rest of an education, it’d also let you hang with your friend more and maybe even get you a few more. And the place Goldengrape is opening his soda shop in has some living space on the upper floor with a whole room he doesn’t know what do with, so you can stay there, at least until we can come up with something more permanent.”
Gillian mulled upon it for a second then nodded her head. “Okay,” she said simply. It felt…weird…to be so accepting of this outside assistance after so long of constantly refusing it, fearing any strings that might be attached or dragging others into a mess she hadn’t been able to see a way out of.
But now she couldn’t help but think she should’ve done this ages ago.
Greta grinned warmly at Gillian’s acceptance and gave her a pat on the back. “It’s going to be okay now, Gillian,” she assured as she did so.
“Yeah,” Gillian agreed, smiling as she felt a warmth within her she hadn’t felt in too long, “it’s going to be okay.”
Author's Note
About midway into issue 70 of the MLP comics, a griffonness is established to have made a nest atop the Ponyville schoolhouse. But other than suggesting she'd made a friend with at least one of the students, very little else is explained about her. She only physically appears in a mere two panels total, was given no name or backstory, and thus is extremely obscure as MLP characters go. Most fan sites omit her from their lists of canon characters. Even derpibooru barely has anything on her.
But I had always wondered about her and what her story must be. Who was she? What brought her to Ponyville and why? Was everything she owned really just in that nest? Was she really able to look after herself like this? Did she have no where else she could go? Nowhere else to call home? Who of Cheerilee's students had she made friends with and why? How did they even meet? Did that mean she was of a similar age group to those students? Does that mean she's a minor? If so, did she have parents? And so on.
Naturally, that left me rather inclined to write something about her, if just to try and figure out my own backstory for her. The Non-Pony contest proved a good excuse to do it with, though I did have to make some tweaks to make it fit--I'd originally conceived the idea focusing much more heavily on that friendship with Silver Spoon and it being told from her point of view, not Gillian's...but of course I couldn't go that route for the contest and sadly had to keep Silver's role to a minimum. Fortunately, I had also thought of tying the idea in with some sequel or follow-up to another fic of mine (hence the use of Greta), which also couldn't be realized because of contest rules, but still gave me the base I needed to work with.
And ultimately I think it turned out for the better that way, allowing for the tale to come together pretty quickly. I actually had it in a state ready to post about a week or so earlier than this, but when the contest's deadline was extended another month, I held off so to continue making a few more tweaks and refinements since there wasn't a need to rush just yet. But I've reached the point that I don't have much more to tweak, so I figured that meant now was the time. So hopefully y'all enjoyed.
