It was hearth’s warming day.
Tempest Shadow was determined to sleep in.
Five came and went in darkness. Six got blue and seven had the holiday sun peeking above the horizon. As the soft winter rays streamed in through the plate glass window, the unicorn only groaned deeply and snuggled deeper into her comforter. Eight and nine rolled by and at ten she truly felt the need to tend to things. So she lifted her head up, took a moment to blink some moisture into her eyes and peered down towards the foot of the bed.
Over the covered profile of her hind legs, she could see – as usual – the big gray cat perched atop the baseboard. He was grooming the inside of his leg, then paused with leg hovering in the air when he saw that his pony was finally awake. Flinty little eyes stared back and with a glint of bemusement in her own, she pursed her lips.
“Boo.”
And like always, the antisocial adopted pet took that as his cue to jump down with a hearty thump and scurry off to one of his many other hidey-holes. With him out of the way for the time being, she could see that the wood stove responsible for heating her tiny fieldstone cottage was nearly out. Even with a long burn enchantment imbued onto it, it still needed a tender loving hoof to keep running.
She ran a dried tongue around her equally parched lips, and then pushed the covers aside. A little chill shivered through her bare body as she rolled onto bumbly hooves. Over the last few years mornings had gotten a little difficult. The days of easy energy to chase lofty ambitions had passed by and it took a bit more doing to meet the morning. A steaming cup of coffee and a good bowl of honeyed oatmeal usually set her right in that regard, but she knew of a much faster path to wakefulness. Fighting through the waking haze, she hobbled over to the back door and with a masochistic little smile, nosed it open.
The arctic blast forced her muzzle to scrunch up like an old mare and stung her eyes and ears, but she galloped out regardless. With sudden alacrity, off the snowy porch she lept, breaths already coming out in steaming puffs. Around the corner she dashed and into the outhouse she went. After relieving herself of the other night’s bit of liquid cheer and way too much cake, she cantered back to the porch and back into the warmth of her inner sanctum.
Casa Del Tempestad, Grubber had dubbed it on one of his visits.
Even though it was only a few minutes outdoors, Tempest’s teeth chattered and her hooves shivered profusely. The little jaunt to the outhouse may have blown the morning cobwebs out of her mind but she was still in need of some pick me ups before truly meeting the day. First of which was to slip into a cozy wool turtleneck, white and embroidered with herds of caribou, which instantly drove away the chill.
Next was coffee, which required a revamped fire.
Tempest pulled the door to her stove open and a whiff of smoke tickled her nose. It was quite nostalgic, reminiscent of lonely camps, airship engines, burning cities and now, retirement to Equestria. It was also a therapeutic, hooves-on affair to tuck some new logs inside and light it back up. Of course, there was no greater tinder in the world than some junk mail. Some inane solicitations found their final resting place stuffed into the openings in the oak stack, and she then pointed the stump of her horn into the maw of the stove.
It was all too easy to unleash all her raw magical fury upon errant airships and gratuitous fortifications, but that wasn’t all there was to her magic. Or to life, she humbly mused as she trickled on the power.
A few glowing blue arcs accumulated in the craggy stump of her former horn. A trickle of bright sparks followed and they were showered into the pile of wood and tinder. The paper caught instantly, burning hot and true. She could have readily poured on the coal and set the logs into a roaring blaze, but for her needs less truly was more.
With her little fire just beginning to crackle, Tempest swung the squeaky door closed and set the damper to keep it under control. For a blessed moment, she smiled at the tiny flames licking at the logs and the warm glow emanating through the window. So simple, but something I can do.
Coffee and breakfast were also things she could do, with the former taking precedence. Her trusty percolator was in its vaunted place upon the kitchenette top, assembled and ready for duty. Its fuel was in a brand new bag next to it. Like many, it was a classic gift from a coworker at city hall and this time it was the correct coarse grind for her needs. She actually was a bit excited to make it as it was one of a few limited holiday blends Jasmine sold and was a flavor she hadn’t recalled having before.
To her respect, Leaves and Beans never went out of their way to gaudy up the packaging, sticking with a single color for the bag and simple nomenclature printed upon it. A pair of crossed candy canes resided under the label. Tempest unsealed the pouch and pulled it open enough to get a good whiff of the grounds. Her nostrils reflexively flared as the pungent peppermint aroma was drawn into her sinuses. It had a rousing effect, not quite on par with her sub-zero jaunt but novel nonetheless.
If it tastes as strong as it smells I’ll definitely want to eat something smooth to balance it.
The cottage did have electricity so she could have a modern coffee maker or more elaborate machine but many of those were just too gadgety for her tastes. On her off days, she was more than thrilled for a cup of joe over the fire even though the process was more involved. And when she was on the job, a self-heating instacup was more than adequate.
The first step was to put a kettle on for nice hot water. Living in as small a space as her fieldstone cottage meant that while space was at a premium, everything imaginable for food preparation was generally within hooves reach. Her water vessels were no exception, hung from their handles on hooks below the upper cabinetry and she took the biggest one down for filling.
The echo of running water on tin rang out bright as the kettle was held under the tap. It was the sound which truly signalled the beginning of the day for Tempest. When it was filled to her liking, she turned off the water and took it over to the stovetop. The heat there was starting to build so she wouldn’t have to wait long for her water to reach a boil, so she returned to the counter to prepare a meal for another.
From the upper cabinets she pulled out two steel bowls and from the bottom, a tin of tuna. One of the bowls got filled with water and found its place near the center of the rubber mat protecting the wood floor from spillage. Next, she picked up the tin and pulled the tab, appreciating the hiss before peeling the lid back. Unlike her coffee, the stench of canned fish made her want to gag but after tending to animals with Glitter Drops for a fashion she didn’t want her own subjected to boring old kibbles. So she wrinkled her nose and tipped the fish into the other bowl and gave the tin a few good taps to get all the chunks and brine out. After chucking her refuse in the pet proof garbage can, she finished the task and called out…
“Shady! Come and get it!”
Tempest smirked and rolled her eyes. He would never come out unless any and all attention was off him. So she did what any self-respecting pet possessor would do, and pretended her cat didn’t exist.
She busied herself by retrieving a prepped jar of homemade oatmeal from the fridge and a tiny handled cooking pot to warm it through with. The jar was dumped into the pot and with a spoon, every morsel was scraped out of the jar until only a beige stain remained. Ever diligent, she immediately rinsed and wiped the jar and its lid clean, reassembled the two and placed it in the growing line of jars on a shelf awaiting the next round of meal prep.
Ears swiveled back as the first whispers of a whistle touched them. With purpose, she cantered back to the stove and inspected the fire. It was burning a bit too hot so she turned it down a little more. When it came to cooking over wood it was imperative to take things slowly, an imperative the unicorn hadn’t strongly followed until life forced her hoof all those years ago.
With the stove’s damper set to calm the rampant fire, the kettle was removed and brought back to the countertop. It was time to brew.
The percolator was a simple affair; Open the lid, remove the basket and straw, fill the base with water, replace the straw and fill the basket with a measure of chosen coffee. The mare destined to drink it liked a strong cup so she’d set it up for exactly that.
All there was left to do was to heat up her breakfast.
With both her morning coffee and meal balanced on a tea tray, Tempest took it to her favorite place to enjoy breakfast. Once again, December’s crispest air graced her face as she nosed out the door and moved on over to the little seating arrangement she had set up for herself and the odd guest. She set her tray down on the table between the two seats and then took a seat in her favorite one, closest to the door. Even with her frumpy white sweater the chill was quite prevalent, so she did as she always did on the cold days and drew her legs up to her belly.
Coffee was the first thing she indulged in and even though it had some time to steep, steam still wafted out the ramekin. She blew over it several times and then took a little sip. It was just on the verge of piping hot, just the way she liked and she savored the first taste. It did taste like candy canes – rather strongly – but the dark roast also came through to her palette in equal measure. There weren’t many other tastes she could pick out, just a few extraneous herbs and spices, none of which took away from the leading flavors.
As she took more thoughtful sips, Tempest stared out across her domain. It was a nice parcel off Sweet Apple Acres, a good few acres ringed by an evergreen windbreak. The towering pines also served to provide a decent level of privacy which was otherwise bereft of on the rolling plains north of Ponyville. Her own slice of that pie however was disused. She was no farmer; never had the time nor the patience for it. However, she did enjoy a small garden and greenhouse which was typically just enough for her needs. The rest of the land was allowed to go to grass.
When the caffeine hit, Tempest set the coffee down and exchanged it for one of her favorite comfort foods. She took her oatmeal in the same pot it was cooked in, no need to dirty another dish when it was just her. She hugged the bowl in her forelimbs, savoring the warmth against the cold. Then she grabbed the spoon and gave it a quick stir to assuredly incorporate all the ingredients. Just like with her coffee, she took a moment to savor the first bite. Even though it was a common meal for her, it hit her palette just as strong as ever. Hearty of oats, with a slight tang of yoghurt and a smoothness of honey.
As she upped her spoonfuls in accordance with her stomach’s wishes, she cast her gaze to the world beyond her realm. The distant snowy peaks of the Unicorns due north twinkled in the morning light. Northeast, the mighty Canterhorn stood vigil over the land, glistening like an ivory beacon to all its denizens. Canterlot clung to the giant mountain’s side like an awkward dancing partner, her spires clearly visible under such skies. And through the saddle between the two geologic formations, Cloudsdale was a wispy blot on the horizon.
Tempest still had some reservations about the capitol on the mountain, deeply personal ones. She mulled them over while wrapping up breakfast.
When Tempest returned her dishes inside and saw the untouched bowl of tuna, she began to wonder. Shade may have been antisocial and ornery, but he’d never skip out on a meal. Forgoing her own habit of cleaning her dishes up after a meal, she set about sticking her muzzle into all the places she thought her cat could be.
“Shade!”
“Here kitty, kitty, kitty!”
“... oh please don’t latch onto my face…”
It wasn’t hard to cover all the places a cat could be within her tiny home and none of them bore any hissing fruit. Tempest hissed herself at a new implication.
Dang it. He must have slipped out when I wasn’t looking.
Not wanting to spend any more time where it wasn’t due, Tempest huffed and cantered for the door. First, she peered under the porch for anything but found no signs of life. Then she did a lap around the house, checking over the outhouse, woodshed, utility box, and well cavity. The last place to check was the cellar, but she had the doors sealed up tight to keep out the roving coyotes and other vermin. Unlikely he got in there and if he did, it would have been through the interior trapdoor.
While she finished up her lap, Tempest resolved to search her lardars, but a little set of tracks stopped her dead. Four. Feline. Definitely him. Her eyes followed them, and they led towards the western windbreak.
Tempest trudged through the fresh blanket of snow and frosty grasses towards the line of pines demarcating the border of her land. It was much deeper out in the fields and Shade had been making flying leaps in order to traverse it. As her booted hooves blasted away the trail she was following, she tried to piece together why her cat had taken off in such a fashion.
Did the coyotes… No, I only see his tracks…
There were no other pursuing pawprints, which ruled out anything on the ground spooking him. An aerial predator could have swooped down and triggered a dash for cover, but why the trees when the house was much closer? And in a straight line?
Tempest craned her neck to scan the tops of the tall pines for any birds of prey skulking about. Apart from the usual winter bird fare, there was nothing big and scary. However, the little birds were darting about and fussing up a storm. A predator was around.
Now upon the Evergreen Line as she’d dubbed it, Tempest began to surmount the accumulated snowbank. The wind whispered through the conifers as her boots crunched through several icy layers and it was nearly up to her belly when she reached the lowest snow-laden bough. The trail dipped right under it and knowing that Shade would never just come out to her, she was going to have to take a peek under.
Tempest gave the bough a good shake to clear away the snow only for all of the higher branches to shed their powdery loads right onto her. With an annoyed snort, she shook her body free of the cold loose snow and then lifted the branch enough to peer under. It was quite dim on account of the meager sunlight filtering in through the boughs, but once her eyes had adjusted, a natural cavern of sorts was revealed. Not only was it big enough to house a cat many times over but also big enough for a mare like her to slide down into.
The little realm she found herself in felt a world away from the winter. The snow line and boughs did a good job blocking wind, thus it was considerably warmer under the natural umbrella. The crackle of dead needles underhoof and the heady evergreen aroma brought her right back to foalhood when she and her friends would pile in under their tree-fort for snacks, cuddles, and sudden naptime.
As nice as it would be to sit around and travel that memory lane, there was a cat to find. So she belly-crawled past the trunk, the dried inner boughs dropping copious amounts of loose twigs and needles upon her head and back. Once she crawled out the other side onto Apple Territory, she stood straight and with a sneer, shook as much detritus off as possible.
I'm gonna need a shower after this, she thought snidely while brushing down her sweater. Then she dragged a hoof through her mane and pulled out a nice wad of sap. Or the spa…
Not ready for any of those outcomes just yet, Tempest looked to reacquire the trail amongst the white. She found it quick and it was the same bounding beeline. This time it was alighted towards the main orchard and the buildings silhouetted against the western sky. She hoped that Shade had found something interesting up ahead as chasing him all around Sweet Apple Acres was far from ideal.
She pressed on and after a few minutes of slogging, a log fence blocked the way. It was a simple affair about head high and its only purpose was to separate the open field from the orchard proper. Shade had no problem going under, but his unicorn wouldn’t fit through the gaps. She would either have to find a break in it or clamor over it.
There may have been a few streaks of gray running through her mane, but Tempest was still well fit for her age. It was no fence, but a hurdle. One which she would surmount. So she backed up twenty paces, then charged.
Snow crunched underhoof and she ate up the distance at a speed which belied her middling age. Every hoofbeat of the gallop puffed snow up onto her boots and belly as the fence drew up on her fast At just a few paces apart she bounced off her hooves and popped up into the sky. Her impulsively tucked forehooves just cleared the top rung as her leap reached its zenith and her hindhooves followed a split-second later, the right tapping the log.
That tap was enough to dash a perfect landing and Tempest struggled to find her hooves as she stumbled awkwardly along for a few paces. Once able to skid to a sloppy stop with her rump nearly in the weeds, she threw a glance back at the fence and grinned.
Still got it… kinda. Now, Tempest looked to the orchard … About that cat…
The trail carried on through bare apple trees, with the now meandering trail resembling that of a wandering feline. Their branches full of icicles glistened under the midday sun and creaked in the wind as Tempest roughly trotted down the lane. Over the crest of the rolling hill she could see the tops of the Apple and Carrot farmsteads and she hoped she wouldn’t have to bother other ponies or surely in the case of the Apples, attend any more parties.
Oh, Tempest had been invited to plenty of Apple family get-togethers on account of her being a neighbor and honorary family member. The few she’d been to were low-key and quite pleasant, but through the grapevine she’d heard that all the Apples across the country would be in town for Hearth’s Warming. After the party at her workplace she had her fill of the holidays. There was nothing new to report for the next few minutes of travel, until the sounds of festivities touched her ears. Then she crested the hill and got a commanding view. Her eyes narrowed.
There were Apples. Apples everywhere.
Apples of all stripes were roving about the place, engaging in all kinds of wintery activities. A snowball fight in the paddock, skiing in the hills, sleigh rides through the orchards or ice skating on the pond. None of which appealed to Tempest in the slightest.
She had no idea why Shade would carry on with so many strangers about but the tracks did not lie. Somewhere amongst all the apples was her cat.
Very quickly she lost the trail. Too many hooved tracks had damaged whatever hope there was of resolving things easily. She would have to ask around for help and she already had a good idea of who to involve in the search. So she wandered about the farm, receiving waves and smiles from those who knew her. After asking where to find Applejack, her location had been narrowed down.
Like on many special occasions, a cider stand had been set up for the adults and It wasn’t too hard to find. The host of their big celebration, Applejack, was standing off to its side. Along with her trademark stetson and Granny’s old print shawl, a wool-lined denim vest kept her warm while she conversed with a hovering Rainbow Dash. The pegasus wore a much nicer wonderbolt flight over a yellow shirt and lazily sashayed back and forth as she regalled her companion with some wild tale or another.
As she approached Tempest caught Rainbow’s eye and the pegasus gestured merrily in her direction with the stein in her hoof. Applejack followed the hoof and smiled warmly.
“Fizzlepop! I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”
Applejack trotted up and extended a hoof. Tempest met the shake and accepted the hug she was drawn into.
“Neither did I, admittedly.”
They separated, Applejack sporting a quizzical look. “Were not being too loud, are we?”
“Oh no, nothing like that.” Tempest took a glance around at all the cheer and then sighed. “My… cat slipped out when I wasn’t looking and I followed the tracks all the way here. Have you seen him?”
“You mean your little Shadow?” Rainbow Dash hovered in close. “Isn’t that him right behind you?”
“You see him?” Tempest looked around frantically over her back, trying to spot the elusive feline. But the only thing visible behind besides a missing pet was her own shadow, and the titters of a drunken pegasus.
Tempest cast her gaze upon the jolly flyer, half-lidded indifference gracing her face. “Are you an Apple, Rainbow Dash?”
Dash barked a laugh and then backflipped, not losing a drop of drink. “About as much as you. Lighten up old timer, ’tis a party!”
“Heh, heh,” Applejack breathed a nervous chuckle. “I believe somepony has had a mite too much to drink.”
“Nah, I’m still good.”
Applejack glanced between Tempest and Rainbow, trying to figure the best way to defuse any budding hostilities.
“Rainbow, ah, seein’ as you’re still good, why don’t ya’ be a good sport and look for Fizzlepop’s cat. Better yet, fetch Gilda and get her eyes on the job too. Cover more ground that way.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Dash grumbled. “I can take the hint. I’m sure she’d like a break from flyin’ all those kids around.”
As Rainbow flew off while taking another glug from her stein, Applejack forlornly shook her head.
“Whelp, that should keep her busy for a bit.”
“Yes.” Tempest dragged her hoof through the gravel. “I… really should find Shady.”
Applejack giggled, then rubbed at the shawl around her neck. “You know, Granny said when it comes to cats they never do as you will. You gotta find ‘em by not finding ‘em. Know what I’m sayin’?”
Tempest was afraid she’d get a suggestion like that. She wanted nothing more than to search the area without interruption and quietly retreat back home with a naughty cat on her back. But such efforts were impractical for such a setting. She would need help and since Applejack was offering and had already enlisted two others as well…
“Yeah,” the cat possessor agreed. “I know it all too well.”
“In that case,” her host beckoned with a hoof, “how about we trot and talk.”
Things may have not been going great that day, but having some help in the matter would make the situation more bearable at the very least. So Tempest followed along and hoped Applejack had a better sense than her of where Shade could be hiding.
“I figure the first place to look would be our cookery. If he was hurtin’ for food he might head there. You’re free to have whatever vittles you like and we can certainly ask around for yer cat.”
Tempest agreed. Shade never had his tuna so food would be his priority. Why he didn’t just kill a bird or something was now irrelevant, all that mattered was to catch the rogue before he led her on any further.
As she and Applejack made their way towards a building which was a rather new addition to the property. Since the farm had become the nexus for all celebrations Apple, a lot of cooking was being done and after a barn fire a few seasons back, a park pavilion had been constructed to better and more safely serve those needs. Copious wood smoke pumped out of the chimneys and carried the fragrances of great cooking so it clearly worked out well for them in the end.
Hooves which crunched on gravel now clopped against concrete as the duo crossed under the roof. Tempest would have rather kept to the sun but she was pleasantly surprised to feel a little bit of heat rising up past her legs. The tables on the fringes had a few ponies sitting around enjoying the holiday or possibly for those with snow encrusted clothing, a break from it. Two elderly couples had also taken up shop at one, hunched over their bridge decks while some cups of tea steeped to the side.
“Have any y’all seen a big gray cat ‘round here?”
All Applejack received was a few responses, all negative.
“Whelp,” Applejack uttered. “Seeing as there’s no way he’s hanging around the hubbub out here, Im’a ask around the kitchen.”
The host of their hike disappeared through a door propped open by a rock, then yelled back. “If you want a coffee or something don’t hesitate to ask!”
Having downed one strong cup already, Tempest had no need to start sparking away with a second.
Any y’all seen a big gray cat ‘round here?
She did entertain an interest in the banquet tables laid out with a plethora of baked and fried treats in rough piles. Having vowed to never eat another apple fritter for her own health, her eyes fell upon a cinnamon bun wrapped in parchment. A bit messy but what do I care at this point.
Tempest wanted a tea or something to wash down her chosen confection, but some snippets of conversation gave her pause. She couldn’t make much of what was being said over all the busyness inside but she recognized Applejack as one speaker and certainly recognized the other.
Braeburn.
He was the only Apple Tempest wanted to outright avoid. His… hyperactivity had mellowed through the years but getting roped into another hours-long rambling conversation wasn’t in her cards this time round. So she backed off and leaned up against a supporting beam. Luckily, the cinnamon bun was quite moist and went down nicely.
I hope he doesn’t keep AJ too long.
Then a motley and very youthful bunch galloped on in. The little herd mobbed up on the banquet and immediately started scooping up limbfulls of the family’s best delectables. Their excited chatter filled the space as they started munching away at their hauls. It wasn’t just colts and fillies of the three tribes though as there were two zebras and a hippogriff as well in the mix. None of them looked to be in the family, but the younger mare in the brown bomber galloping up, ushanka flaps bouncing with her strides definitely was.
“Youse got to slow down!”
Even in a huff, Tempest immediately placed the thick accent as belonging to Babs Seed. They’d only ever spoken on two occasions prior and this would most likely be the third. Once caught up with the gang she immediately took umbrage to the pilfering.
“Hey now! Save some for ‘errybody else, yeah!”
Tempest coolly watched the adorable scene as Babs gently pushed some of the mob away and shoehorned herself between the table and the rest. From what she'd gleaned the unicorn knew that the distant eastern apple was helping the youth in her community find their calling. A noble cause but with their current display it was clear more guidance was needed.
She has the drive to reign them in, but not the authority.
It certainly wasn’t in her job description to discipline foals outside of criminal activity, but in this case she could lend a hoof with a little guidance.
“Need any help there Babs?”
Just as she was about to step in, Applejack stepped out of the kitchen and trotted over to Babs’s aid.
Babs turned her gaze upon her cousin, a sheepish smile gracing a burnt orange muzzle and a bit of relief reflected in her deep green irises.
“Jeepers cuz’, thanks for the save.”
“Hey, no problem.” Applejack trod up to Babs’s side and then cast a firm gaze upon the miscreants. “I hope you lot ain’t giving Babs too much trouble.”
The unruly band withered under scrutiny and with some grumblings returned most of the sweets. Then they took to some of the tables and consumed their candies with foalish candor.
Babs breathed out a sigh. “Eh, not too much. They’re usually well behaved or at least they were when Gilda was giving them rides. Figured I’d bring the gang here for a snack on account of her and Rainbow finding some cat.”
“Aint nothing to fret about.” Applejack laughed. “We were all young once.”
Babs looked far less stressed but a frown still graced her lips. “So what’s the deal with our star wonderbolt? Why’s she drunk?”
Once again, Applejack’s expression went melancholic. “Yeah, she’s been… kickin’ back a few bad habits as of late.”
That didn’t look to help Babs much. “I’ll say. I couldn’t have her flying the kids like that. Good thing that Gilda was there to fill in for her.
The cowpony grinned at that. “Pinkie says she has a good heart but I never expected her to be willing to do something like that. Anywho, Fizzy and I have a cat to find, so good luck with your youth group.”
“Likewise, Cuz’”
With their brief back-and-forth concluded, a brief hug was shared and then Applejack moved back over to Tempest.
“Mighty sorry about the wait. Brae is absolutely certain no cat is in the kitchen and he reiterated it five times to boot.”
Tempest mulled over that for a moment. There were dozens of places on the farm where Shade could be holed up, but the biggest one loomed ahead. It was the last place she’d expect him to be with all the music and whatnot, but it couldn’t be overlooked.
“So the barn then?”
Applejack shrugged heavily. “May as well seein’ as it's the only other place with free food.”
The barn by far was the busiest place on the farm. Through the double-doors and over the heads of a few loiterers in the entry, Festive lights and other decorations hung from the rafters and Tempest could see that the ground floor had been converted to a dance hall. It was nothing new, she’d seen it that way a few times before but never had she seen it so crowded. At least two dozen ponies had taken to the floor or were otherwise milling around the periphery along with the band which had been playing country tunes all morning.
As Applejack picked a path in, her follower grew uneasy. Tempest still followed but when they reached the snack table she laid out her issue.
“AJ! There’s no way he’s in here! He’d never stand a place this active even in hiding! We gotta rethink this!”
Applejack nodded. “Alright, we should find Rainbow and Gilda! See if they had any luck!”
They backtracked to the door, then Tempest heard her name in harsh conversation just outside the doors.
“I’m looking for, ugh, Fizzlepop.”
“Fizzlepop? Anypony know a Fizzlepop?”
“Your sheriff or marshall or whatever.”
“You’d have to ask AJ on that one.”
“Fine. I will. Bucking Dash.”
Bucking Dash is right, Tempest snarled as she stomped past Applejack and out of the barn. Can’t keep one thing discreet.
The strident speaker asking for her was easy to spot amongst a crowd of gawkers. The white head-feathered griffon stood on muscular, brown booted hind legs. Deep brown wings stretched out and behind their owner, acting as balance for an awkward bipedal stance. And overall the griffon looked flustered with puffed and flushed feathers around her face and fiercely avian eyes. A slick black leather jacket was worn over a coat of tan fur which contrasted harshly against a garish pink foal saddle strapped around her chest.
Most importantly, Shade was clutched within its fearsome forelimbs.
Tempest did not approach this griffon head on. She circled in on her at a canter instead, maintaining eye contact and affording herself a respectable space. The griffon’s head tracked the unicorn in kind. The unicorn also kept note of where Applejack was and trusted that the farmpony would let her do the talking.
All and all, she didn’t get any malicious vibes from who she now believed to be a previously mentioned Gilda. If anything, the griffon appeared to be enjoying the holiday about as much as she was.
“Alright.” Tempest halted a few paces away and faced the griffon. “You got me… and my cat.”
“Are you… Fizzlepop?”
Tempest returned a stiff nod. “Sometimes.”
The scary awkward griffon smiled in a lopsided manner which only a beak would allow, then lifted Shade. “I got your cat.”
“I see that. Hoof him over, please.”
“Oh, with pleasure.”
The griffon marched over, terrified cat squirming in her talons. Tempest trod up slowly and they both met in the middle. Shade was then held out in offering.
“There, get back to your pony.”
Tempest held out her hoof only for Shade to make a flying leap for her back instead. The puffed furball dug claws into her sweater as he took refuge behind her head. He then unleashed a nasty hiss back at his temporary captor and his unicorn was sure he was glaring.
“Yeah,” the griffon smirked. “Nice to meet you too, cat.”
In that instant, everything went back to being right. Shade had been retrieved and now they could finally go home and loaf around the fire. And it was thanks to the griffon before her.
“Gilda, I Presume?”
Gilda rubbed the back of her head. “Heh, the one and only.”
“Thank you for finding Shade.”
"Ah'll say!" Applejack plodded over. "Thought we'd have to wait all day for him to come out. Where'd ya'll find him?"
Gilda, who had just taken to four legs, pointed towards the northern treeline. "Over by that old tree house. Figured I'd check that woods as that's where I'd go to lie low."
"And where'd Rainbow get off to?"
It was a fairly innocent question but one which contained a deeper concern.
"Dunno." Gilda craned her neck towards the top of the barn. "Prolly on the roof laughing at us or something."
Not wanting to suffer through any upcoming drunken shenanigans and with her cat glomped onto her back, Tempest felt it high time to withdraw to the cottage.
"Well, seeing as I have my cat I'm gonna head home. Have a nice day Applejack. Gilda."
Applejack did allow a flash of disappointment across her face but followed it up with a warm, knowing smile. "Alright then. I'll see ya' the next time I see ya'."
With that, Tempest turned on her heel and made for home. As the problem had been resolved, she chose to take the main road back for simplicity's sake.
She then swiveled her head around to fix Shade with a stern glare, who was curled up on her back.
"Don't think for a second I've forgotten about you, mister."
