Chapters

Where
Why
When
Which
Whine
Who
Return
Rebirth
Renewal
Recursion
Recess
Resuscitate.
Re: Heterodynamic

Where
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Floating Down

Where

Feathers amuse me. They are tiny little leaves attached to a body for warmth and for flight. They are perfect pens if you use them right, and they make great things to worry on with my mouth. They make the most delightful blankets and they fill a certain part of me that I hardly even knew existed.

Let me introduce myself. The name is Cale. I do have a last name, but it would be terribly boring if I told you every meaningless smidgen of detail about myself right away, wouldn't it? Besides, I'd rather have more of a multiple choice backstory.

Maybe I was an amazingly talented teenager who had everything come easily to him and never had to struggle, but I was secretly depressed and constantly put down my admittedly meager achievements?

Or maybe I was a dreamer with my heads in clouds sculpted straight out of the freedom of the soul. Velvety blue skies beckoned my name with every step and every wind's whistles.

Or maybe I was a life saver that many owed more than can be described to. Disgusted with how little I actually achieved I became more of a cynic, standing to the side and only interfering in the way fate plays out when completely necessary.

All you really need to know about me was when things actually started happening for me. You know, the exciting bits. The real one two punch lines where good triumphs over evil and the hero nabs the girl and they stride off into the sunset.

Wait, that's not my script. Er.

Starting a story like this is about as difficult as relating to you what the inside of a train wreck that happens in zero gravity is. You don't care about the conductor, you don't care about the why.

Because really, like many things in life, a train is only interesting once it fails.

To cut short a few endless metaphors, on the fateful day it all began I was awakened from a nice dream by a completely natural sensation.

Hunger. I was hungry.

It was a light hunger, the kind that graces one when one misses breakfast. The same lightness that you could easily ignore. Still, that was what awakened me.

There was the sweet sound of bird chorus off in the distance. It was almost unnatural how natural it sounded.

The air was crisp and sweet, sugary sweet honey pervading the air. Allergies were sure to follow shortly.

I was resting on something rough and hard.

The air itself tasted of peace and tranquility.

This is how the train wreck of metaphor began. Not with a bang, but a whimper.

I opened my eyes and hot bright sunlight almost shattered my ocular orbs. Or maybe I should just say that my eyes felt like someone had poured salt on them.

I threw a hand up over my eyes and felt an odd waver in my positioning. I adjusted my weight instinctively and regained balance.

Once again, I opened my eyes.

My body was filled with a curious, general lethargy. Like a cat hiding and waiting for the right time to strike.

There was a burst of tension through my thoughts as my eyes focused on where I was. Or rather, where the ground was. Which was below me at a distance that I was more than a little bit uncomfortable with. Suddenly, the bird song made a bit more sense. I was in a tree, after all.

I was draped over a tree limb.

Surprisingly, I was more than calm about that. I was more worried about the taloned appendage that graced my forehead. The one that twitched when I tried to move my fingers?

Those ones. Yes.

I tapped my forehead with the talons and winced at the sharp pain that lanced through my skull in response to them. Makes sense, talons hurt. I waved them around for a bit, listening to the keen whistle the movement evoked.

Delayed panic response kicked in after a few seconds when it suddenly hit me that I was hanging off of a tree limb with eagle talons that had apparently replaced my hands.

"Shards!" The voice was unexpectedly feminine. I latched on to the branch with my hands and was more than a little dismayed when the branch unexpectedly gave way before me. I rolled off.

Not exactly what I was going to say, but it suited my mood.

I plummeted the ten or so feet to the ground and felt my self shift my body, by instinct, shifting like a spinning top so I could land on my... feet... which I had four of...

I landed smoothly without much pain

“Hello.” Again with the feminine voice.

Which was a bit bad. Ok, bit of an understatement, it was very bad.

Ok, let’s back up a bit to the previous night.

A tiny bit of backstory maybe won’t hurt this, right? At any rate, there was a meteor shower the night before.

Which I had a masculine voice to ooh and ah with whilst I stared at the pretty star lights. As well as a human body, though you probably already guessed that.

There was also the fact that I didn’t break all of my bones when I fell out of the tree. I was a good ten or twenty feet in the air...

I looked down at my talons and for once had it sink in that something was wrong. My perspective shifted slightly as I took into account all the things I knew about my situation.

I was some strange thing with talons. A better examination, better than the glance I had earlier.

Correction, strange thing with talons and brownish fur.

I craned my neck around, a few vague hairs away from going into mental shutdown mode.

…My neck hurt.

Fur covered every inch of me aside from the white feathers that graced my neck. I let out a huff, and cracked my head to the side. With a sound like cracking bones, the tension in my neck disappeared. I did the same for the other side, relaxed at the sound. Something familiar, at least. I could focus on that.

“Right.” The voice was still wrong. I blew a bit of hai- er... feather out of my face and watched it drift back down. I growled under my breath.

Growling. This is a thing now. Good to know. I sounded a bit like a ticked off cat, but still. Growling.

Back to the list of things I knew about what was going on.

Lion paws at the back. They probably had claws, or something equally sinister in them. I wondered how I was standing so easily and promptly fell over on my side in a lump.

“Griffon.”

The name rolled off of the tongue. I quickly bit said tongue and was forced with the realization that I had a beak to match the eagle talons.

Gorey details aside, I was now a griffon minus the tip of a tongue. My tongue, if you want to be specific.

“Ow.” Rather simple response, no? Still, female voice.

I had an idea of what was wrong with my voice at that point, but I allowed myself a few more moments of denial.

But only a few.

“My name is Cale.” Well, at least I knew my name. Good to have that going for me.

The voice was still not my own, and of all of the many things that could bother me, it had to be that. I mean, the new voice sounded like something out of a cartoon. Cartoon.

Cartoon, like that newscast from last week. The one with Celestia and Luna. Lauren Faust. Tara Strong.

Like I said, with a whimper, not a bang.

Instead of pondering the fact that I was now voiced by a popular voice actress in growling soprano, I attempted to pull myself to my feet.

Which was hard. You know what? Having two not matching pairs of feet makes balance a little weird. Like balancing a plate of flaming cacti on your nose. That’s a horrible way to describe it, but the mental picture alone should convey the difficulty that I encountered, and the wounds to my pride that I suffered in the process of learning how to stand on my own mish mash of avian and feline feet.

Long story short, I was slightly bruised when I regained the ability to stand on my own four feet. Which was alright, because in the process, I had noticed something next to me in shattered pieces. My glasses. Clearly, I was oblivious or brain damaged if I didn’t notice that I didn’t have them.

Or you know, something could be messing with my head in a way that would prevent me from noticing obvious things.

Or oblivious.

I’ll go with oblivious.

I didn’t need the glasses, truth be told. Or at least, I needed them before hand, but my vision was now better with the whole new eyes thing. Which I assumed were avian. Maybe.

I remember a news cast from a few days ago. If Celestia and Luna wanted the mane six to go to New York... and I was in New York...

I snapped the thought process shut in the manner of a teacher snapping a ruler down on a bad child’s hands; with no remorse or regret.

Forest in New York. Great place to go camping with a few friends. Great idea. Get away from the world that seems to be going insane over ponies. How lame. Get away from the psychos. Have fun. That’s what they said.

Friends. Camping with friends who weren’t entirely happy at the thought of people being turned into cartoon ponies.

Well, I’m cooler than some ponies, I guess.

Not that it matters. My stuff is back there. I made my decision without really realizing it.

I realized my thought processes were jumping around and tried to still them, seeking the source of the issue. A nice tight knot of panic lancing through the thought trains and sending them into a cacophonous array of light and sound and screamy noises.

“Cale?”

That was not my voice. The tight knot of panic was a bit more agreeable, and the crimson metallic taste in my mouth was not helping to settle my nerves or stomach.

“Er.” I managed to get out, not really sure what to say.

There was a loud shuffling sound from a convenient pair of nearby bushes, arranged in the common cliche of being impenetrable to the naked eye unless parted.

I took a nervous step backward when an alien sensation overtook me in a golden wave of glory. Pride. I had pride again. I was strong, I was fast. I had no need to fear anything, much less a simple human.

Just as quickly as it flicked through, I realized that I had taken a step backwards. Which was a pretty big accomplishment, considering that I had just managed to figure out the correct way of standing upright.

The bushes parted and a head poked out with brown hair draped across the face of it like greasy ivy. “Cale?” Our eyes met.

There was a moment of sheer awkward silence. “What the F-?” He swore, violently. There was another silence, broken only by my attempts at a reassuring smile.

Which came out more as a face that looked like it was going to tie him to a rock and devour his liver for the rest of time. Prometheus, eat your heart out. Well, liver, but anyway.

“What the F-?” He repeated again.

“Shhhh.” I tried. Of course, considering I was a bird lion hybrid thing Griffon it didn’t really work that well. It came out as more of a hiss.

He went pale at that. His eyes, wild with fear and probably stupidity, (I do not have the greatest amount of faith in him) latching on to the sight of the crushed pair of glasses. He seemed to draw courage from the waste of money, time, and glass and expanded like a balloon made of skin.

“Cale?” He croaked again. To his credit, I was an angry lioness bird thing GRIFFON. I probably would be panicking if I were the one staring at me.

That sounded creepy, like I was planning on checking myself out. That interpretation sounded creepy. I had to wonder where these thoughts were coming from if my friend wasn’t staring at me in shock.

“You killed Cale!” He screamed, stumbling back into the bush and taking off into the trees.

Taking chase seemed like a great idea at the time. Get him. There was a moment where I doubted whether I could even walk well enough to give chase before I casually executed that thought with a mental double tap from a mental revolver. It’s metaphysical corpse dropped to the ground and I rushed after him, mismashed legs working just as well as my legs had beforehand. I vaulted over the bush.

‘Course, it was more like I was just watching it happen. Less like I was the one forcing my legs to move and more like I was just riding shotgun in my own head. There was a thrill to it, like a rollercoaster. It was a nice happy feeling.

I felt pride in myself.

I was a griffon. For a brief few faltering moments I looked over the brim of mental breakdown and greeted the griffon inside of me with a good smile.

You know, right before she mauled the hell out of my mind.

Metaphysically, of course. I retreated to my safe haven and resumed the chase, the griffon within seeming content with controlling my limbs and placing a wicked grin on my beak.

Gilda.

Gilda the griffon. I was Gilda the griffon and I had something to hunt.

I was happy.

Anytime you wake up on top of someone and you have no idea why is bad. That’s a rule of thumb, or talon. Pretty common one, as well. Normally followed up with insinuations of being great last night, or being a dirty little boy and or girl.

‘Course, he wasn’t naked. Which was points in my favor. Not knowing why I was on top of him, or why he looked to have cried himself to sleep were not nearly so encouraging.

I stood and took stock of the situation.

“Ok. What.” Anger. There was anger. I have a few trigger spots, and not knowing what happened was one of them. Completely understandable.

Not really caring that I was standing on top of the friend that I won’t name for sake of anonymity, I pushed him to the side with my talons, feeling a nice bit of amusement over how easily his shirt shredded.

We were a ways from camp. Easily out of earshot. This explained why I had been able to pin and, apparently, cuddle the distraught human without anyone coming to his aid.

Cuddle wasn’t the right word. A certain part of me growled at just the thought. I had pinned and... restrained him? I really wasn’t sure if there was a descriptor that didn’t sound absolutely terrible.

Pin? Pin sounded more like something a ferocious creature would do. Pin, followed by ravaging. No. Ravage sounds like rape.

Hm.

In the end, I turned away from the conundrum of my ferocious cuddling, Cuddling is lame, and look through the trees towards a stream nearby. I was pretty sure following that stream would lead me back to camp.

Then I remembered I had wings. Great wings. Strong wings filled with blood pumped from a powerful heart. I was strong. Pride flowed through me like blood through veins.

I turned back to the downed teenager and stared at him for a while. I would probably need him later. The real question was, when was later?

Focus on the situation.

Humans are becoming ponies. Newscasts tell them to go to New York. I am a griffon. Where do I fall? I’m already in New York. New York forest. Camping.

Shut up and actually do something. Idiot.

Walking. Walking was something to do. Surprisingly, walking was pretty easy this time. I had a handle on the most of it and was just about as graceful as your average drunken college student. You know, the annoying one that comes in and vomits all over your new couch while you angrily swear at them?

Foot after the other. Taloned foot after lion foot. It was a nice pattern, actually. Relaxing. Let me think.

Camp wasn’t too far off. All of my things were back there... including my phone...

Do talons work on touch screens? For that matter, do talons work for other more important things? If talons won’t work on touch screens, can paws work?

Does it even matter? It’s a goal. Go do it.

I decided to simply get it over with, and worry about how it could’ve gone better later.

I stalked through the bushes like the giant cat GRIFFON that I had become.

The tip of my tongue was still sore. It has stopped bleeding, but the amount of blood I had had to spit out had dappled my fur with streaks of it. This shortly became far more than a hygiene issue, however. I had been wandering in the general direction of our camp for long enough that I had started wondering if trying to fly would be worth the risk.

Suddenly, a movement and the sound of shifting branches behind me startled me out of my daze, causing me to spin around and come nearly face to face with my other friend. He was holding a large branch and seemed less than inclined to ask me if I needed help finding my way back to camp. He seemed quite a bit more inclined to hit me over the head with that stick.

It hurt. A lot. However, knocking someone out is not so simple. Especially when they are as filled with pure awesome as I am.

The roar knocked him off his feet. He literally fell on his flank, er, bottom. I stalked towards him and decided to tell him off.

“What, exactly, do you think you are doing, dweeb?” I growl. What the hell? Wait. Where?

“A.... A.... Avenging my friends!” He squeaked pathetically. The smell of his fear was enticing, like an electric current tempting me further and further. I’m not. Wait.. What?

“Pfft. Idiot.” There was a flicker in my head. It stung a little, like a second attack.

There was a moment of silence until he dropped the stick and ran screaming like a little girl. I snickered. That wasn’t nice... Not that I am nice.

Distantly, through the distortions of a closed tent and through the forest I heard something a little odd. Voices.

There was a curious feel of sliding glass and suddenly the world was a little different, and I was breathing hard. “What’s... happening?” It was the question.

Heh. You’re in my body and I decide when I get to have fun. Got it, Dweeb?

...Gilda?

That’s the name. Beats Cale. What’s that even mean, anyway? It sounds like a vegetable.

I just...

Ignoring that. Yeah, ignoring that. Just...

I went forward without thinking, walking through the brush and forest. Forward and onwards, trying not to think of anything...

Ok, I was panicking. So sue me.

I was at the tent flap before my mind really returned to me. It was one of those zip up models. There was someone inside of the tent, by the sound of it.

I realized, coincidentally, that I was hungry. That is a bad connection. I have to wonder what people taste like. Probably salty and why am I even considering this?

There was a faint smell of blood in the air. From myself, I was sure. It made my mouth water.

I needed to focus on getting my things.

“Well there you have it. After being brutally assaulted, they appear to be in good condition and thanking everyone. This is Andrea Moris for channel five news, signing off.” Newscast. It was a repeat. He was watching it again for some reason.

I suppose, while I have the chance, that I should address my feelings towards ponies. I was... I used to watch the show a little before I was yanked out of it by friends. I valued them over said show, and shared their recently developed beliefs that people becoming ponies by sheer chance was a BAD thing.

There was an attack on Fluttershy.

She was heading to New York. There was a broadcast telling them to head to New York.

The entire thing reeked of a trap. What would stop said group that ATTACKED her from setting a nice trap and snaring the rest of ponies heading there?

I was already in New York...

Fluttershy was in Kansas. Assumedly, she was heading for New york.

I had a few days to check out the situation. If I could... If they were all really so trusting, I had to find a way to stop them from coming here. Or at least, figure out if I was right.

New York City.

I had a destination. I may not have my sanity, my friends, or my home. But I had a goal.

That is all I needed.

Why
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Floating Down

Why

Blood. It is an interesting fluid, to be sure. The sight of it provoked myriads of reactions from the witnesses, ranging the extremes from hysteria to arousal. Let it be known that the sight of blood is an interesting thing for one who has just so recently become a predator. Invigorating.

Disturbing.

Remember my nice little multiple choice backstory? I don’t know which one is correct. It isn’t my place to decide what type of person I am, that is for others to judge. Harshly and unfairly. Either way, I was not the type of person to smell blood and say “Oh goodey, what died?”

No, I liked meat but this craving was... unsettling.

I had smirked at hunted animals and the like before, roadkill didn’t make me flee in terror, but the urge to hunt something down and pin it to the ground with my claws until it’s body fell limp, before ripping its hide from.... I was concerned.

More than concerned, I was terrified.

Heh. Dweeb. A dark voice smirked in the back of my mind.

I decided not to give her the satisfaction of knowing that her voice upset me.

You’re a griffon. We hunt. We feed. That’s how it works. There was the feminine hiss that accompanied the voice of the body. It sounded darkly pleased, like it wanted me to squirm. ….Not some lame veggie ponies. Just like that, the fear was gone.

Hunting. Feeding. The very words evoked a tapestry of dark imagery that left my head buzzing with adrenaline. It was an odd feeling, to be sure. That such concepts that I hadn’t given more than a few thoughts to beforehand were now so all encompassing...

Do something interesting or we hunt. Deal? Either one of those could involve your friend in the tent here. There was a long awkward moment where I tried to understand what I could possibly do to him that was interesting. I had a feeling that she was laughing at me.

My indecision chose for me; the tent flap started to unzip. Out popped the head of yet another of my friends. Memory has blurred exactly what he looked like, I didn’t know him that well. He was all for the whole anti pony movement thing, PAPA I think it was called. Still, you think that I would’ve taken notice of it.

Do you take notice of what you eat? Do you think about how it had to die for you to live? Pft. Of course not. He looks like he has some meat on his bones, come on.

The offset commentary from the main body was more than a little off putting.

His eyes widened almost comically before he pulled his head back in and zipped up the flap. There was an errant click that filled me with a bit more fear.

Camping. A bunch of adults and teenagers out in the middle of nowhere. Guns. GUNS.

My body dove to the side before I could even properly clarify just how much it needed to.

POUNCE!!!

I was away from the tent before I really knew it, paws and talons digging against the cool ground to aid in my flight.

My stuff was still back there.

He had a gun.

My memories spun like the toys of children, showing examples of exactly what a gun could do to Gilda.

Yeah, that would be bad.

Thank you Gilda for the obvious. I stared back at the tent.

My friend was standing outside of it, holding his firearm and scanning the trees around him. I could hear his breath coming out in pants. If I strained I could hear his heart. I did strain. His heart was beating like that of a tiny bird’s ripe for the plucking from the air.

Prey.

“Stop.”

He stopped searching, sure, his face turning instantly to see me. Probably not the best course of action to tell him where I was, but it was better than the rather appealing option of flaying him and devouring him.

“Who are you? Why were you standing outside my tent?” He calls out. He paused before shaking his head.

I was concealed better than I thought. That, or he was some flavor of stupid. I’ll go with him being stupid. “Cale.”

“Cale isn’t a girl.” Well, that was a nice point against me. I was going to have to go with willing suspension of disbelief at this point.

“A large angry griffon.” I stated. Still not the best decision and I immediately regretted how thoughtless the description was. Accurate to a point, but thoughtless.

“What the fuck?” Ok. Reasoning with someone when you are hungry and he was starting to look like he was delicious was an even worse idea.

“Look, just step away from the tent for awhile and I’ll steal Cale’s stuff.” Why not an appeal to the ridiculous?

“...” He lurched and stumbled. “I’ll... just... go throw up now.” He stumbled off drunkenly.

Seriously? I was worried about a drunk? Well, a drunk with a gun. Still, odds were he was going to-

There he went, he vomited. A few seconds later he passed out next to said vomit.

Huh. I was honestly expecting that part to go on for a while longer.

I carefully padded along to the tent and opened it, quickly looting it like a character from an mmo.

Most importantly, besides the bag of jerky that I was eying, I realized that I had my phone again and yet another unconscious human male.

If this was going to be a running theme, I hoped Gilda was a lesbian.

That thought was something that I didn’t need to think. Cale?

She referred to me by name.

Stop wondering that. Eat the jerky before I make you eat your friend over there.

I looked back at the human. Honestly, he looked about as tasty as said jerky.

Suddenly, it occurred to me that it was probably less than safe waiting around for someone to discover me standing in a tent rooting through a human’s belongings.

Ignoring Gilda’s goading, What’s the matter, scared?, I swept up the few supplies I actually wanted into a canvas duffle bag that I assumed had held the meat on a previous trip. This was assumed from the blood stains that decorated it like an old butcher bag.

I make note of this only because I do not want to make note of what exactly else I brought. That would ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it?

Fine. All I brought was a few wristbands, a rather ornate and expensive looking pocket knife, some jerky and my phone.

Speaking of my phone, it was a nice little touch screen device made from the company named after a fruit. I plucked it from the bag after I had walked a distant that I assumed would be safe.

Said bag was looped around my neck in a way that felt entirely too demeaning. I agreed with Gilda on this.

I leaned against a tree and flicked at the power switch, wincing as the talon scratch the paint job of even that part. The phone turned on, displaying a rather sensible percentage left in the battery. Smiling for once at my good fortune, I flicked the screen with my talon.

Two things happened. The screen cracked and the phone itself squealed with a sound of glass being cut. The sound was agonizing, like nails on a chalkboard inside of your head while kittens were set on fire and brutally decapitated.

I dropped the phone and watched it bounce on the hard ground, spider webbing cracks shooting against the screen.

Good job. You broke it, idiot.

“I’m sorry we can’t all be perfectly flawless like you, your highness.” I growled back, sweeping the phone back into my talons. I looked down at the sharp almost blades that tipped my new hand things with a bit of hatred.

Then I looked at my back feet, tipped with softer lion paws. There was a moment of silence, followed by a grunt from Gilda.

Tartarus no.

I carefully rolled on my back, keeping the phone in my grasp. Working my back legs, I hooked them so that I could almost lick one of them and then carefully placed it against the slide lock on the device. I twitched a toe and was delighted to find that it responded to my commands.

Of course, you have to picture a griffon rolled on its back cradling a phone a bit like it is a ball of yarn and then cheering when it did something as simple as unlocking a phone.

Still trying to make sense of the proper input to use my back paws as fingers, I managed to dial the number I was after.

The phone rang thrice before it was answered by a familiar voice. Not the one I had explicitly dialed, but close enough.

“Hello?” The voice asked.

“Hello, mom.”

When
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When

There was a long pause. “Who are you?” There was a large dose of confusion tapped in with the tiniest trace of fear.

We had had talk about the world, about how people were changing. We didn’t approve of it at all. To be honest, I was trying to get a hold of my father, who would more than likely be agreeable.

He wasn’t as xenophobic as we were. Or rather, as she was, and I wasn’t now. Kinda hard to be terrified of yourself for long periods of time.

Actually, having an angry griffon in your head that could take over whenever she wanted and also had a stated ignorance of the dangers around you was terrifying.

Not ignorant, I just don’t care. Now talk. Your mom probably thinks you are a stalker or something.

“Cale.” There was a sound that resembled something deflating from the other end of the phone. I felt guilty already and we hadn’t even gotten to the specifics.

“Cale? Cale is a-” I cut her off, I’d already gone over this with the drunk.

“Yeah, not anymore. I’ve tran-” My turn to get cut off.

“You’re a pony now?” There was a deep vein of disgust to her voice, that which wasn’t probably on the verge of tears.

Way to make me feel good about myself, mom.

“I’m a lion thingy GRIFFON.” Gilda forced the words out of my beak into the phone with such force that I probably almost made her deaf.

I could imagine my mother recoiling from the phone in half pain and more than half pity. “So.”

There was more of an awkward silence as both sides of the conversation tried to figure out what to say.

Wimp. Just tell her that you’ll miss her or whatever sappy thing you had planned. Just sitting here isn’t going to help you any.

Sound advice for the one who almost got us shot.

Shut up. I regret not dying since it means I have to deal with you.

Ouch. That would’ve hurt if I knew you didn’t almost wet yourself when you figured out what that gun would’ve done.

“I’ll miss you mom. I’m staying in New York with a few friends for the time being.” I acted like I wasn’t going to start crying after this.

“I thought I raised you better than this.” There was venom in her words.

“It’s not like I asked to be turned into a griffon.” The words were flat. There was no real return to venom, like I had lost the will to converse.

“I want my son.” Like a fist smashing into my face with the force of a hay maker, I lost more and more of my confidence.

“I am your son. I am CALE.” I shouted the last part, my voice breaking. I was losing everything that I cared about in mere hours. Next thing I knew I was probably going to die without a soul who would care and no-

SHUT THE HELL UP. LEAVE YOUR WHINY LITTLE HISSY FIT FOR ANOTHER TIME

The griffon in my head was angry, genuinely.

I stared at the phone in my talons blankly.

“You aren’t my son.” I would look back on this day with sheer horror.

“You aren’t my son.”

I was so focused on the phone that I hardly noticed the gun shot going off beside me before the bullet ripped through one of my legs.

The phone tumbled numbly down like a falling leaf. It hit the ground in the same instant that I jumped up, anger and rage clouding my vision and numbing the soon to be overwhelming pain.

Gilda and I roared as one, surging past just being on our feet and rushing more towards the shooter in a couple hundred pounds of ticked off lion bird griffon.

It was the friend from before, the one I had said went far too easy? Yeah, he was back, and nursing a nasty hangover. The gun was still recoiling in his hands; The world had slowed down while my leg was injured. Adrenaline pumped through my body.

END HIM! The rage inside of me hollered.

The gun flew to the side as we collided, the close range making such a weapon all but useless anyways. Claws reigned supreme at close quarters.

I was moments from ending his life, but I managed to hold my razor talons before they went that far. He was bloody, knocked unconscious and in need of medical attention as much as I was with the hole in my leg, but I had not killed him.

Finish him. Make him die. Consume him. He is prey, you are predator.

I had to physically restrain myself from doing just that.

There was a voice still coming through the phone. Someone was screaming.

“C-cale?” I looked down at the hole in my leg without much comprehension.

“CALE?” Of course, NOW she cares.

I looked away from the quickly bleeding wound and towards the gun. Small caliber. Pistol. Most likely a through and through shot, no need to pull a bullet from my leg.

Not that it mattered.

Gilda was silent. Distantly, I could imagine her thrashing about in agony and rage, livid with anger.

The phone was still shouting my name.

I stared at it blankly. It still didn’t make much sense. Things were happening for too quickly.

I had to get help or something. Odds were there were still a few ex friends wandering the forest wondering where I was and or planning to kill me.

I was shunted to the side as Gilda took over, easing passed the waves of panic that I was giving out.

I grinned widely through the pain as Cale, annoying as always, finally released his grip on my body. I kicked the human in the side hard enough to draw more blood, flipping him on his back. I wanted him to drown in his own blood for daring to hurt me. With as much grace as I could muster, I grabbed the still screaming phone device and put it in the bag with the jerky.

I limped off to go somewhere to lick my wounds. Simple as that.

I’d survive. It takes more than just a bad leg to down a griffon.

Let me in control let me in control let me in control it is so dark in here please let me back in the light the pain it hurts can’t move

SHUT UP.

I let him take control again, growling at the masculine presence once more in control.

I felt in control again, the pain fresh and agonizing.

Phone. I grabbed my phone. I remembered a few things. Facebook page. I looked at the forest, trying to remember the name.

Couldn’t call police. They might not want to deal with a griffon.

Paranoia ate at me and I scrambled to try and figure out the way to the place I was looking for. Where was I? New york state forest.

Which one?

...The name was escaping me and there was so much pain. The blood was in the smell in the air full of copper and pain.

Needed relief. Help. Needed help.

Before I knew it, I was on my back again, trying to use my other back leg to type out the right place on my phone.

“Erica Fluttershy” the image is of a yellow and pink pony wearing a blue baseball cap and a smile, and the profile has a series of markers tracking a trip east from Nevada.

Too far from where I was. Needed to let people know that I was hurt. Still. Odds were she had access to others.

Today was Thorsday.

Username: Cale

Friend request sent.

Amazingly enough, she accepted immediately.

I managed to mess with the messaging system.

“Downed in New York forest. Shot. Gilda.”

Message sent.

So much pain.

Minutes later, a message came back, from Ericashy.

“If you can make it to the factory outside of New York City, Rainbow and Twilight should be there. If you cannot make it there then message me back with your location as best as you can and I will try to send help. I am so sorry.”

“Hurt. Blood everywhere. I.don’t know where I am that well. Forest.” There was someone out there who cared. Pain.

“You need to get to a road or something, your best bet may be calling the police for help, I have a lawyer here who would help you out if you need legal defense.”

“Tell my parents I’m sorry.” I sent it before I understood what I typed. How would she find them? I was a stranger talking to some person who might not even exist. I was bleeding out in the middle of a forest while an unforgiving griffon decided to take pot shots at me and here I was worrying about my family.

You really don’t value your life that much, do you?

I had to agree with her.

Even sought help from the Flutterfail. Pathetic. I’ll take care of this.

Wearily, I was shoved to the side. I slept.

I was in control. I shook off the pain and started walking, the bag of supplies looped around a wing, the phone slipped inside securely.

Cale slept peacefully.

Which
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Floating Down

Which

There was a meadow that seemed to span the entirety of forever. It was beautiful unlike anything else. Hundreds of different flowers seemed to spring up from the sea of green like tiny stalks of purity.

It was mine. All mine. Every single foot of it was bits that I had fought for, every step a memento. It was all mine.

Not that it mattered.

What was the point of the bounty if there was nobody to share it with?

Pain. More pain. Waves of pain.

I panted, reaching forward for the edge. My wings pounded with agony. Just a little bit more to reach for, just a little bit more. I could make it. It wasn’t far at all now.

Even my tail hurt. I was drenched, a storm was tossing me around the sky. It felt great to be out of control again. I was so close to my goal, I could almost feel it.

Pain. Something crackled and something exploded.

I let out a relaxed sigh, my tongue flicking out to clear away the specks of gore from the rabbit. My talons were still reddened from it, but I didn’t pay it much heed.

I stumbled and limped forward, still trying to ignore the fact that I was down a usable limb. Here, alone in a forest I felt more at ease than I had the entire time that Cale had been awake. Even with the pain I felt better.

It was hard to mess things up if nobody was watching, after all.

Not that I cared about that.

There were flashes of light and sound disorienting beyond regard. It didn’t make sense. The memory read it as being music but the noise just hurt.

There was something wet trickling down my face.

His face.

I was in the human body. I was in his body looking through his eyes. Instantly, the familiar waves of loathing washed through me like streaming sunlight.

They weren’t my waves of loathing. No, the best part of it was that they were coming from the human. Somehow, the human and I agreed on something.

We both hated the human.

Something danced at the corner of our eyes. A knife, flashing in the dim light like calling card of grace itself. There was no hesitation. We seized the knife.

We both wanted him dead.

There was a brief sensation of pure elation and then there was blood everywhere. A feeling like tearing paper. The knowledge that all was well once again with the world.

The pain was sweet.

The blood was red.

A surge of heat.

A soul was dead.

My heat pounded rapidly. I panted, leaning against a tree. My vision was blurred.

I was back in the real world.

I panted a little more, thoughts swimming.

I was Gilda.

"I am a griffon forced to deal with an apparently suicidal human thing." I muttered out loud. It helped.

Slowly, the world swam back into focus.

Cale.

Get the fuck out my head. You pathetic little worm.

What?

Oh look, I'm Cale, nobody likes me so I'm going to go hide out in my room and cut myself. Pathetic. I growled under my breath.

You. GET OUT OF MY HEAD.

Why? So you can kill yourself?

...Shut up.

No. I'm not letting you anywhere near anything dangerous. You know what? You're not getting control again.

WHAT?

Oh please, listen to your self. Like anyone with half a brain would ever let a pathetic delusional idiot like you do anything important. Oh wait. That's right. You already think that about yourself.

SHUT THE FUCK UP!

Pathetic. I taunted, feeling a spiteful grin split my face. You sat there and cried yourself to sleep at night and pretended that nothing hurt.

...at least I did more than sit on a mountain for a few years...

...get out of my head...

HOW DOES IT FEEL WHEN I BRING UP YOUR MEMORIES?

GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HEAD YOU TWERP.

Pssshht. Twerp?

I shut my eyes and counted back from ten. Each number was complimented by a series of images that should shut him up. I could almost feel him recoil away in disgust.

Answer me this, Gilda. Who is better? The one who actually went out and did things, or the one who hid away on a mountain.

Shut up.

I think you're angry because I'm better than you.

I am better than you will ever be.

I think you're mad because you know that I'm stronger.

I leaped to my feet, my wings snapping out on command.

Of course, I still had a hole in one of my back legs. Which I just jumped on to. "SHARDS." I swore, looking down at the puffy wound. It wept.

Oh? Is the ickle Griffon hurt?

I snapped out my wings and took to the air. Almost instantly, my wings locked up, sending my plummeting back to earth. I landed hard on my bad leg, forcing tears to my eyes.

You bastard. Let me fly us out of here.

Oh no. I may not know how to fly, but I do know that you need to move your wings for that. I'm not letting you move those until you admit that I'm better.

Obviously, I wasn't going to do that.

Aren’t you just hurting yourself here?

You’d have plenty of experience there, wouldn’t you?

Oh? I’m sorry. I can’t hear you over THE SOUNDS OF YOU CRYING ON A MOUNTAIN

Shut up.

Speechless, huh? Well guess what, Gilda?

I hate you.

Same here. Just as easily as you can be a bitch, I can keep you here.

I struggled to my feet. Every muscle felt numb and deadened. “Cut it out.” I muttered.

Admit it. I’m better than you.

I’d rather die than say that lie.

Alright.

For a while we stood there, for a long while. Thoughts of bleeding out and estimates on total blood loss flickered across our mind but we did not address them to each other. They simply were there.

I guess you will get your wish in an hour or two then.

I guess I will.

I am not weaker than you. I grit my beak. But I might as well give up this body to you if the worst you can do to it is kill it quicker.

Like that, I was back in control. The pain slammed me to the ground before I could remember to breathe. Heh. That was easier than I thought it would be.

The stunted growl from Gilda made me smile a bit. Then I frowned, looking down at the hole in my leg. It was swollen. Puffy. I put pressure on it. I went back to my feet, slowly taking a few halting staggering step forward.

There was pain. Tears sprung to my eyes eyes and trickled down. I clenched my grip on the ground and let out a gasp. The talons dug into the ground. I felt a smug sort of satisfaction from the griffin.
Give up yet?

I growled. It felt natural. I took another step, just to spite her. And another.

You really just don’t know when to give up, do you? Come on, you've got knives for fingers, end it already.She was bitter.

And again. And again. Every step was another strike against her. She fell silent, it almost felt like she was surprised, or confused. “What’s the matter?” I grinned. It felt good to be her.

It hit me then that perhaps we were a bit more alike than either of us would ever admit.

What changed, Cale?

“Huh?”

Why are you even trying? What happened to the kid I just helped cut himself?

I stopped. There was an almost hesitating tone to her voice. Despite knowing it was probably cliche, I voiced it aloud. “I grew up.”
The silence in my head spoke volumes, but I could feel my wings twitch.

We should probably get to a hospital.

There was pride in my step. Something I wasn’t entirely used to.

Hey, remember that multiple choice backstory? Let’s mix it up.

I pick all three.

Whine
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Floating Down

Whine

Metal bars.

It was as though I had just laid my head down and now I was back, a pause and fast forward during which I was unaware. Passed out. The world was a blur of metal bars that tore themselves apart and turned to waves through the distortion that was omnipresent in every segment of my reality. Reality... Another topic of confusion for the time being.

I was Gilda. It helped to remember that. Gilda.

My head hurt. Ached, memories were disjointed. Flawed, cracked, shot through with pain.

The air was cold and tasted of a dense and suffocating fear, seasoned with cynical delight. It was animalistic. There was the inkling of a thought, that I wasn’t supposed to know what that smelt like. But I found that there was a lack of impact or reaction from that part of my mind. A warning light without a label, to be dismissed until further notice.

After all, I had more important things to worry about. There was the faintest trace of urine to the fear. Numbing smells as well, as if the alcohol and chemicals could wipe clean whatever travesty had assuredly happened in this place.

I pressed my face against the metal bars, I would say I feel against them but I still have my pride. My beak could barely fit in between them, let alone the sides of my face. I came to notice a dull roar in the background of my hearing. Taloned fingers wrapped around these cold bars. The metal didn’t budge no matter how much I pushed or tugged. Those fingers ached by the end of it, deep imprints from how tightly I grabbed them engraved into the tough scaly hands I now possessed.

I stood up; the feathers on the top of my head brushed the ceiling. Big cage. I was in a cage. There goes my pride.

I was caged and everything smelled like death.

I took a step back and my rear leg, the one that had so recently acquired a bullet hole, clunked against the ground. Curiously this noise was not followed by the customary jolt of pain. I turned and looked at it, my neck being rather kind and allowing me to do so. My leg was wrapped in a cast. Hard cast. Plaster of some sort.

My leg was also numb enough that I could not feel my own talons run along the exposed fur as I slumped against the corner of the cage.

I was not in pain, this could only be considered as progress. The cage was temporary, even if I was meant to be a pet, I only had to play meek or sick until it was opened... Unless I was simply shot and disposed of.

I slammed my body against the cage bars, my eyes wild and panicked as my heart rate increased, I had never been claustrophobic, at least not to this degree, but my wings now battered against my prison in a frantic attempt to feel the wind, my claws scratching deep grooves against the wooden floor.

I must have alerted my captors of my alertness.

A light split into the gloom around me, making me stop for a moment to look for its source. A door had opened, showing me that I was in a concrete floored room with multiple cages around its edge, wood walls, and no windows. The one door now held an outline of a woman who vanished before reappearing, holding something.

“Hey, hey I have some food for you, calm, calm. We don’t want you breaking a wing.” The woman cooed, keeping her voice calm and level as she approached. Oddly, her voice did calm me, though I still backed into the darkened corner of the cage, heart racing and claws digging into the wood.

“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you. This food is for you, it’s got some meds in it too, enough to keep your leg from hurting... Hope you can at least leave the cast alone, I don’t want to see what those claws can do to plaster.” She was just talking, not at me but to herself as she laid the raw meat just outside my cage and backed away.

I’m not really sure why, but she seemed lonely. It was an out of place observation for me and I quickly shoved it away so I could better deal with the situation in front of me. I carefully pushed myself away from the back of the cage, watching her closely. She had gotten me into the cage, or rather, she was outside of the cage and as such was to be treated like she had gotten me in there. She hadn’t let me out, after all. Another step, then another. The cage was about a pace or two in length, a wing length away from me if I was in the center.

At the edge of the cage I sank my talons into the meat and yanked it inside, staring down at it, then back at her.

“Go ahead, it’s for you.” She said, before smirking a bit. “You won’t even taste the painkillers. Go ahead. It’s okay.” Even when talking about the drugs, her voice was level and calm. It was almost offensive how much it felt like I was being talked down to. There was a moment of tension where I couldn’t decide whether she genuinely thought I was a stupid animal or whether she was just trying to keep me calm. Either way, the voice was as grating as it was soothing.

I sniffed the meat, almost poking my beak into it. It smelled like, well, meat. Nothing more, nothing less. I growled under my breath, then glared at her, opening my mouth.

“...” My voice was a rasp.

“Hey, no other... whatever you are here to scare off. No screeching. Eat, it’s fine.” She kept on in her terribly soothing voice.

I growled again and shoved another glare in her direction. Dumb animals don’t glare! Get the hint, Ms. Oblivious.

“I know you probably think I am some sort of threat or something. I’ll leave, just eat.” She said, slowly backing towards the door.

I shut my eyes tightly and silently cursed everything. I looked back at the meat and sighed, helping myself to a meal.

A short time later, the door opened again, and the woman peeked in. “Oh good! okay, so since the meds have probably kicked in, the light shouldn’t hurt your eyes.” She flipped on a light, illuminating the whole room in an old halogen yellow glow that popped and crackled as the bulbs warmed up.

I finally got to see my captor. She was puny, even for a recluse vet. Roughly four and a half feet tall, she had short cropped brown hair that looked like she cut it with a knife, and a perpetual smile. Her uniform showed that at some point in time she had been a park ranger, if not currently.

“That too bright?” She asked jokingly.

I shook my head. My eyes adjusted quickly enough, though the flickering light from the strip over head was almost nauseating. After adjusting, I looked up to realize she was staring at me in shock.

“Did... you just... no way. Can you understand me?” She asked breathlessly.

I rolled my eyes and nodded. Duh.

“Oh, oh! Crap, mythological creature shows up and I assume it’s just an animal! Um... Listen, I can’t let you out quite yet, but I am so sorry for this mix up. Do you have a name?”

I growled, and pointed at my throat. I had a distant flash of screaming, a memory half garbled.

“Right! You need water, something with your throat is messed up.” She ran from the room, leaving the door open, and returned a moment later with a large cup, water sloshing over the side. “I brought... A throat lozenge too, in case that’d help, but um... Do you promise not to claw me if I hold the cup for you?” She asked nervously, eying my talons.

Lozenge. What is a Lozenge? I blinked. I shrugged, looking at her. Nonverbal communication was not exactly my best talent, so I nodded.

She slowly approached and held out the cup, extending her hand into the cage a bit to let me lap up the water. Her hands shook just enough to make it difficult though.

I gently lapped at the water with as much poise and grace as I felt needed for the action.

Once the cup was about half full, it was pulled away and the vet held out a small candy-like object that smelled of honey. “Don’t swallow it. Keep it in your mouth... er... beak, and swallow the juice as it melts, it will coat your throat and reduce swelling.” She explained, waiting to see how I would remove it from her hand without destroying her hand as well.

I plucked it up in my beak, resisting the all too welcome temptation to see just how strong her fingers were. It tasted about like it smelled; sweet. I nodded at her, oddly wondering just what her story was.

There was also the issue of knowing where I was.

“That should help.” She said awkwardly, sitting cross legged a few feet from the cage as she watched me with the fascination of a biologist studying a new type of tree.

I stared back at her. She had the gaze of someone unused to seeing many new things. Tired wasn’t quite the right word to describe her, but energetic was also not the right word. I pointed at her.

“You need me to do something?” She asked quickly. “Are you still hungry?”

Scared, maybe. Or isolated. I pointed at her again. “...who...?” I rasped, then clutched at my throat.

“Oh! Who am I? Well... Thats not an interesting story.” she chuckled. “Well, my name is Trudy. Short for Gertrude. I am a park ranger, in this region I am the only full time park ranger. I grew up nearby, in a small town you probably haven’t heard of. I didn’t like the town, or living around people, so I found a piece of land for sale in the woods and built this with my savings. Luckily I had a job that was made easier by the move, not harder.” She explained. “I’m just a park ranger, nothing special here. You are a Griffin though, a mythical creature that shouldn’t be possible, much less intelligent and hobbling around the forest with a bullet hole in her leg.”

I blinked. She should look at herself in the mirror sometime if she thought I was impossible, and in what world was I supposed to be stupid? I shrugged at her, not wanting to make my throat hurt again.

We sat in awkward silence for a little longer, before she startled me and herself by speaking up “Oh! Do you know how to write?” She asked eagerly.

I carefully and calmly reached behind me and plucked out a feather from the back of a wing. It was sturdy enough. I pressed it against the ground, then paused, nodding.

“Oh wow, you write with a quill pen, I should have guessed that. Um... I have some cranberry juice that will work as ink, though a little runny. Let me get some paper.” She sprinted out of the room again. This time her return took quite a bit longer, and when she returned she had a bottle of deep red liquid, a sheaf of paper, and several other items.

“Okay, so this should work.” She poured some of the juice into a small bowl, then laid out the paper in a line to make it easy to use several pages at once, then she turned to me and bit her lower lip. “I... Have to let you out... But I have to put a collar on you. Is that okay?” She asked.

I twitched at the mention of the collar, my tail smashing into the cage with an audible thud. I shook my head hard.

“O...okay... but if you run away or attack me, I’ll have to shoot you instead of stunning you with the collar. I don’t like shooting.” She cautioned, and for the first time I noticed the small pistol on her hip.

I nodded, memories of my last tangle with something like that drifting through my head.

“So you won’t attack me? Promise?” She asked me.

I nodded again.

She took a deep breath and opened the cage, stepping back to put the paper between us as she eyed me like a dangerous animal.

I looked at her in an odd way. I realized I couldn’t quite categorize the mix of reproach and the slight feeling of fear from the weapon on her hip. I walked out all the same however.

“So... Can you write your name?” She asked curiously.

I nodded again. I felt a bit like a doll, just nodding without putting any real impact behind it. She just waited, looking between me and the paper. I dipped the feather in the juice and stared at the red for a second before calmly writing out my name. Gilda.

“That’s a beautiful name. It sounds like a human name, right? Where did you come from?” She rattled off, eager to find out more about me.

I wrote a little more. “Mountains. Griffon territory.”

“There is Griffin territory? Where?” She asked, confused.

I paused for a moment. “Where am I?”

“You are in a national forest in New York, in the United States.

“What’s a New York?”

“Um... Well, it is a state, like a region of land within a country.”

“What’s the country?”

“The United States. What country are you from?”

“Not from one.”

“Is there a country near Griffin territory? A landmark of some sort?”

“Next to Equestria.”

“Equestria... I’ve never heard of it. Sorry, but I have no idea where you are from. You can stay here until you are healed up though.” She said with an apologetic smile.

I actually tried to smile back for a second before an overwhelming surge of revulsion washed through me. Was I actually trying to be FRIENDLY? To some random person who had trapped me in a cage? Where were my survival instincts?

“Oh, you don’t look too good. Do you need more medicine?” I stared at her for a second. On one side of the issue, I could probably take her out. On the other side, she could probably hit me with more bullets and then I’d be even worse off.

“Medicine?”

“If you feel sick, I can give you something to calm your stomach. Pretty mild stuff, used for stomach aches in a lot of animals, safe for both birds and large felines.” She assured me.

“I’d like that.” Where the hell was Cale?

She nodded and gathered all the writing I had done so far, laying out more blank paper and leaving to the main room. Through the doorway I could see a wooden floor and a window. It was dark outside.

Cale?

There was no response. Typical. The one time I actually want to talk to some annoying idiot they aren’t even there to talk to.

Trudy returned with a pill and a glass of water. “Here you go.” she said, holding them out towards me, so I could take them.

I sniffed at the pill before placing them in my beak and following it quickly with the water. The pills were bitter, just like every other medicine.

“Let me know if you need anything. Can I take your picture for the records? I have to record every animal or... or person I treat.”

I nodded and she took out a small digital camera, taking a picture of me, as well as a close up of my leg. “That’s all I need. I have a guest bed you can sleep in if you don’t try to leave. You shouldn’t be going anywhere with that leg.”

I growled under my breath. I wanted to say something, anything.

“How is your throat feeling?” She interrupted.

“Like cut glass.” I scrawled on the new sheets of paper, realizing that candy stuff must have finished dissolving some time ago.

“I’m really sorry. rest is what you really need. Come, I’ll show you the bed.” She gestured, inviting me into the house proper.

I followed her cue and walked inside. The air was instantly warmer, and I could see a small fireplace set in one wall, heating the place. It was a plain cabin, with its few decorations being a Bear’s head on one wall, and several paintings hung on the opposite. In the middle, a couch faced the fireplace and behind the couch an old computer sat on a desk, next to a phone. The one door seemed unusually sturdy, and the windows looked to have bars on the outside.

“Upstairs is my room. The couch folds out into a bed.” She removed the cushions and pulled out the bed, replacing the cushions as pillows and throwing down several blankets. This put the bed comfortably close to the fireplace but still a few feet distant of the paving stones that surrounded it.

“I figure, trying to get upstairs would be a pain with your leg. If you knock on the wall or call out, I will come down and get you some more water, or food. Anything you need before I head upstairs?” She suddenly seemed very tired, as though she had been forcing herself to be upbeat the whole time.

I shook my head simply.

She nodded back and put her hat down on the table before dimming the lights to barely being on at all, and making her way up the wooden steps.

I stared at the bed for a moment in quiet trepidation of the serendipity that had led me here. I gently, and casually lay myself across the bed and tried to get comfortable. After a while, sleep came all too easily.

Who
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Who

I am sitting on a rocky ledge above a howling wind swept valley, the jagged peak behind me capped in a dusting of snow. The air carries a slight chill, but the speed of it is what robs my breath until I raise a wing to shield me. Looking through narrowed eyes, I see a copy of myself on a ledge further away. She is watching me, the wind not even phasing her as her gaze cuts through the chill to me like a dagger. Not a glare, but certainly not friendly.

“You’re making me weak.” She accuses.

We are hundreds of feet away, yet I hear her as though she is whispering in my ear.

I say nothing. There is nothing to be said. Her words carry the undercurrent that she believes it wholeheartedly with no doubt at all. Snow blows by with tiny iridescent flecks like bone shards shattered from past fractures of the mountain’s peak.

“Yet the woman let us stay. Your kindness got us shelter and food.” She continues, still unwavering in her gaze and stance, but the wind eases slightly, to where I can lower my wing.

I nodded. “It was your kindness.” I said without pause. “I had nothing to do with that.”

“I have never thanked anyone in my life.” She says with a smirk. “I think you had something to do with that.”

Then there was a flash of insight that told me point blank that that had been a lie. “Oh? What about Dash?” The words were out of my mouth before I even had a chance to think about them.

She managed to keep her composure well enough to only raise an eyebrow. “Well. I guess you got me there. We can’t stop this, Cale.”

I didn’t want to understand. “Stop what?”

“My sudden willingness to apologize, my understanding that in the past I have sacrificed a lot for my ego, that I wish I hadn’t. Your sudden confidence and ability to feel when I lie to you. I felt that too. We can’t stop it.” She said, looking away from me and out into the valley below.

I could see that the wind did not touch the trees down there, and wondered why I was staying up in the mountains, when life could be so much easier down there.

“I don’t like this.” I muttered. It was just as clear to her as her whispers were to me. The valley would be nicer, sure, but would we lose each other trying to go down hill?

“I don’t either, and I’m usually the one jumping into crazy situations claws first. How do you think I feel knowing that I am a character from a show? This has bad idea written all over.”

“Look on the bright side. I could be one of those creepy guys who actually watched it.” I added, almost in humor.

She simply resumed her glare. “Uh huh. Dweeb.” Though the glare had turned into a small smile.

“Yeah yeah, Dweeb yourself, Gilded.” The dream crumpled and folded like torn paper.

There was a lot less of a distinction between us now. I was Cale.

Cale. Good to remember who I was.

Was.

I shudder at the thought and look around at the trees surrounding me.

“How the hell did I get down here?” There was the moment of panic of unfamiliar surroundings which subsided quickly to the familiar feeling of being lost. Trees.

I was supposed to be indoors. With a ranger. Big iron on her hip. Gun. Danger. Short. Lonely. Lost.

I had been taken into a cabin, a warm place with a bed. Ah, I must be asleep still.

That was a better idea than being lost. It would explain the snow on the ground as well. Crunchy snow. Deep snow. The top part was hardened ice that actively fought to keep from being crunched. It resisted until collapse and the pads on my front feet were submersed in freezing ice and snow.

Yet I do not fear the cold. It is not something that can hurt me. This valley seems familiar, as though I had seen it before.

There was familiarity and there was home. Somehow...

I was home. Wherever Gilda was, this was where she wanted to be, to go back to. To return.

The trees shook, as though from an earthquake, and the dream started to dim.

I missed the snow.

Gilda.

Cale.

Gaile.

Calda

I was... Gilda. Everything else just sounded... Dorky. Horrible. LAME. Except for Cale, but still not as cool as Gilda.

There was a bed. It felt good. Warm.

“Hey sleepy head.” A now familiar voice said from somewhere nearby. I jerked my head up so quickly that my neck let out an audible pop. Oddly, this eased the tension considerably.

The forest ranger was standing next to the bed, holding a steaming mug that my senses soon confirmed to be coffee of some sort, smelled sickly sweet though.

I stared at her for as long as it took for my eyes to adjust. “...for me...?” My voice was still a fine mix of pebbles and smashed glass.

“Sure, though I don’t know how you like yours, so there’s a pot over there. I like mine with three sugar, three cream.” She was smiling. It was... nice...

I growled under my breath. NICE? ARE YOU SERIOUS? Yes I am serious, calm down. At least she’s not shooting us.

“You want some?” She asked after watching me stare off into space for a moment.

I nodded. There was a certain horrible humility to not being able to talk.

“Sugar and cream?” She asked as she walked to the kitchen area, watching so she could see if I nodded or gestured.

I shook my head. I barely knew what coffee was. Most ponies liked tea more than anything.

She returned a moment later with a cup of dark liquid that smelled strongly of earthy aromas. “Here you go. It’s hot but I don’t think you need to worry with your talons.”

I sniffed it, then threaded my talons through the handle of the cup, bringing it up to my beak. Fun thing about the beak is that it isn’t the most sensitive thing in the world. My first sip, therefore, scaled my tongue and made me drop most of it down on my chest, then on my arms.

“....” My silent scream was pretty apparent.

“Oh crap, sorry.” She got the cup from me and set it down before grabbing a cup of cool water. “Sorry, sorry.” She apologized as she handed it to me, using a towel to mop up the coffee from my feathers.

My white feathers were stained an ugly shade of coffee brown. I shut my beak quickly after my little scream, feeling ashamed by my action.

“Oh man, I should have figured you wouldn’t have a way of testing the temperature, I am so sorry.” She kept rambling as she tried to wipe off the stain, fruitlessly.

I tried not to glare at her too badly. It wasn’t her fault she was too stupid to realize something that obvious. My righteous indignation faded almost as quickly at that thought, filling me with just more shame.

Was I growing a conscience, too? Talk about an inconvenience.

“...It’s... ok...”

“You’re just being nice, I am sorry but I’ll make it up to you, okay? Even though I haven’t got a report back from headquarters yet, we can go outside today, maybe stretch your wings out a bit as long as you don’t fly off.”

I managed a pained smile for her.

“Thanks for being so understanding, what with being locked in a cage and all.” She said, as she took the coffee covered towels to a dirty hamper.

I blinked slowly, following her with my eyes. “...” My growl was all that was probably needed to get across that I didn’t like being caged.

After cleaning up a bit, she finally walked to the door and opened it, letting in a slight breeze and the smell of pine needles. Through the door, a path and the corner of a truck could be seen. “Do you need help to get up?”

I stumbled to my feet oddly, my toes prickling with disuse on my back legs, the long taloned fingers on my front just barely resisting the urge to sink into the ground and rip and tear. “You’re just... letting me fly?”

“Well, it’d be hard to fly with a cast on, but I figure you can glide, or at least get some excersize instead of sitting around the cabin.” She says as she leans against the house and pulls out a cigarette and lighter.

I walked outside and followed her, and stopped and stared at the fire. “What are you doing? With that fire?”

“Smoking, bad habit, but it helps me ignore the stress of being out here alone.” She says, taking a puff of the cig and blowing it away from me, assumably so that it didn’t bother me.

“Are you afraid of changing? I think I heard on the news that those who changed are more likely to be around those who change...” Cale? CALE? STOP TALKING THROUGH MY BEAK!

I growled under my breath. My talons sunk into the dirt outside and I knew I’d have to go through the process of painstakingly extracting the dirt from my claws. I wondered where I was supposed to get a chunk of obsidian here, the best stuff to use.

“Changing? What do you mean?” She asked, confused.

I wrenched control from Cale’s feeble grasp. “I wasn’t always a griffon. Or rather, this body wasn’t mine to start with. I’m from another world, but this body used to be a complete dweeb’s.”

“So, that place you’re from, is on another planet? But what do you mean not your body? Do you have like... multiple personality whatsits?” She had an odd look of curiousity.

“You could say that, I guess. Not quite the way I’d put it. It’s like having a constant Downer Dweeb ranting about how he hates me.” I exaggerated, to the chagrin of my body sharer.

“Wow, that doesn’t sound good. This has been going on since before you got shot? What caused it?”

“...I don’t really remember...” I muttered, looking away. “Look, it doesn’t matter.”

She fell silent and finished smoking her cigarette, pointedly not looking at me but instead scanning the trees.

"...Well? are you going to say anything to that?" I felt... bad almost.

“Well... It does matter. If you were just some bird or mountain lion, I’d have you locked in a cage at risk of a concussion. For all I know you could have a tumor or something. I’d rather talk openly with you since I dcn’t do that with the animals.... well they don’t talk back at least.” She said with a sad smile.

I wrinkled my face. "Tumor? What's a tumor?" I sighed. "Why do you think I have a concussion?"

“I don’t think you do, but it’s my job to find out if you do. Don’t worry about the tumor thing, you’d be a lot worse off if you did. Just an example.”

"Uh..." I sighed. "Flying. I should do that."

“Yeah, get a bit of a stretch. Be careful on the landing and don’t go too far. You didn’t let me put the tracking collar on, remember?” She says gently, though ominously patting the revolver on her hip. I have to say it looked like it would to a lot more damage than a limp.

"I'll be right back." I promised, though grudged her with a half glare. I'm not stupid, I get the message. Bow your head to the one with the bigger stick.

I shook my head for just a moment, then crouched down, balling up as much force as I could before taking off in a leap. I thrashed more than flew at first, desperate for the skies

Not so fast.

I was about 50 feet in the air. Cale?

No flying.

My wings locked straight out, into a glide that I could barely control.

“Stop it Cale. Let me have this, I’ve had to put up with you already, let me control my own body for a damn minute.” I growled into the wind, squinting as I tried to wrench control away from him.

Land. I want to breath again. All I can hear is your heart beating.

“Let me fly for a bit, and I will let you have control when we land, deal?” I hissed, furious that I was bargaining with my own wings, but knowing that a few moments of glorious flight would be worth it. Being land bound is torture.

LAND OR I MAKE US LAND. I WANT TO TALK TO THE RANGER.

I couldn’t help but tear up, because of the wind. I roughly slid to a stop across the pine needles of the forest floor, a hundred feet from the ranger, and wiped the water from my eyes. I must have gotten a bug in my eye. Damnit. I finally flung control back to him, with enough force to daze him.

"Oh Hell yes." I growled, back in control. Glorious muscle.... glorious air. How long had it been? A day? Two? Did it matter?

I was almost tempted to make a run fir it from the ranger, to run and enjoy life to the fullest. To feel the wind whip at my wings... Mmm....

I was before the ranger before I had a chance for treason. I was smiling from ear to ear, I imagine, almost high on the joys of life and living.

Which you stole from me. I could swear her thoughts sounded like they were choking back sobs. Not like she had tear ducts in my head anyway.

“You enjoy your flight? You looked like your wings froze up, or is that just how Griffins fly?” The ranger asked.

I swatted at Gilda in my thoughts like hitting a cat with newspaper. "Oh, that was just her losing control. Funny thing, that."

“Her... What do you mean?” She asked suspiciously.

I leaned slightly. "The name is Cale. and it feels great to be alive." Did I look manic? I don't know.

“Ah, so Cale. Gilda and I have an agreement. She is staying here until she recovers. You seem to have opened your stitches, will you let me patch you up?” She asked, her hand near her revolver though not on it. Very cautious.

I nod at her. My leg was starting to hurt, and medical treatment couldn't make it worse. I limped slowly inside and looked around the room that I had only seen through a sort of distant mirror before, before feeling a slight pinch on my hindquarters.

"Oh, and I checked you earlier. You're in heat." The ranger said with a sympathetic tone.

Well. Shit. I forgot about that.

“What the...” I looked back to see a large and now empty syringe sticking from Gilda’s, or my, rump. “Oh well when I... did.... and...”

I will never know how that sentence was supposed to end, because I passed out.

Return
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Return

Iron bars were holding my captive again. This was never a good sign. Most of my story so far has been made of the opposite of good signs, so I took it in stride to be a captive again.

We really need to stop meeting like this. Gilda quipped from the back of my mind. I could almost feel her tired sarcasm like a wet towel on my head.

Well Gee, you think? I quipped back in much the same way. There were things to be tired about, and the added strain of fighting a war in my head... er, her head, or our heads? Or... How is this even described?

Whatever. The added strain of this mental nightmare was not helping with adjusting to be being a girl and a griffon.

Oh, and add ‘in heat’ to that list, and honestly I can’t wait to watch you make an absolute fool of yourself since you would never ever drop your ego to ask me for help. I can feel my face drawing into a smirk of her doing.

I forced the smirk away. “And what the hell do you mean by your help?” I growled out loud.

Crap. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. Wait, where am I again? I walked over to the edge of the cage, curious. I looked around. Right... Back in the Ranger’s hut. That’s good. Or bad. I’m still locked up. Hope they don’t dissect me. Or shove me into a breeding program or something or...

I shook my head hard and managed to crack my neck.

Yeah, thoughts like that. You are going to have a lot of trouble thinking of much else for a while, and I know how to make it easier on the both of us, maybe save some of my already shattered dignity. Maybe keep you from trying to mate with every living thing in your path. She seemed to be having a lot more fun with this than I would have liked.

I ducked my head low to the cage floor, feeling humiliated. ...Fuck you. I sent the thought in her general direction. I’ll figure this out myself.

Okay. Oh, you should probably stop pressing yourself against the bar of the cage, the ranger might walk in. She mentally laughed as I felt something cold on my hindquarters and realized what I had been doing with a furious blush and an even angrier scowl. I hope you like being out of control. I nearly broke a tree in half on my first time. Thankfully I could tell she was exaggerating, but that still didn’t help much.

With a single move, I sat on my rear. Look... Maybe I’ve been a little stubborn... PLEASE HELP ME BEFORE I DO SOMETHING I REGRET?!!?

Dear lord, this was freaky as hell.

Let me take control. I won’t shove you away or anything like that, but let me take control enough to move. She said, forcing herself to be as civil about it as possible.

Surprisingly, I was more than willing to retreat from control. Seriously, some things were just NOT right. There. Control. HAPPY?

I felt myself slip away from the forefront.

Unlike before though, I wasn’t sent to that dark unbreathing place, and I could watch and feel as Gilda moved her talons into view and flexed them before closing her eyes and taking a few steadying breaths.

“The key is to force yourself to be aware of your own body. Unless you have medicine, you simply have to impose your will on your body, which is ironic since there are two of us and we still can’t do it any better than before.” She took a claw and pricked her arm. Not hard enough to bleed or really hurt but a sharp sensation that made me very aware of that point of contact.

She kept her breathing steady as she pricked herself across her wings, neck, arms, and stomach, not saying a thing.

I forced myself to try and figure out what was going on. Nope. No idea. Nada. Zero. Zip.

“My mind, or yours, whatever, is now more focused on that sensation than mating. For a time. Now we can pinch ourselves if we start sliding downhill again and it might help. Again, this is all we can do without medicine.” She took the time to stretch leisurely.

And uh... what if we run into a male griffon?

“Oh then we mate with him. No choice really. I mean, even with your reluctance, you wouldn’t put up a fight against these hormones, would you?” She laughs, examining her talons again and scratching away a bit of dirt from our previous hard landing.

That is disgusting! I shuddered, or would have shuddered. Ugh...

“Really? Huh, and here I was thinking that you were enjoying the thought, even if just a little. Oh nevermind, that was me.” She says with a smile as she curls up on the floor.

Sh-shut... U-up...

“Fine.” She says with a sigh. “We don’t need to make this any worse than it already is. So she just locked us up in here and leave or something?”

I don’t even know... I frowned. Or... You know what, you get the idea when I say I frowned, but I didn’t actually frowned because I wasn’t in control, right? I would’ve shaken my head. Tell me there is another way out of heat... Odds are, we are going to run into a griffon, just because the world hates us or something.

“Getting pregnant or running away at that point are the only real options. Running away sounds pretty damn good if you ask me, I don’t want to be raising the most awesome kid on the planet with a messed up head.”

… Shit.

That pretty much summed up that part. Shall we wake up the ranger or something? OR DO YOU HAVE ANY OTHER THINGS YOU WANT TO TELL ME?

“Oh, you are asking for my help?” She perked up, grinning.

YES. PRIDE IS GONE, I AM FREAKED OUT.

“Okay, okay. Don’t scream in my head.” She sighed. “So first off, you nearly killed me when you locked up my wings, that was a terrible idea. I get that you were upset but you don’t just snip my feathers to make a point.” She growled. “Second, if you are stuck in my head then you really should stop seeing me as some terrible monster that you want to domina... defeat.” She said, pinching herself on the arm.

… What. I caught that. Dominate?...

“Yeah, that’s how you’ve been acting, some hot shot male that thinks he has all the answers. I used to beat the crap out of guys like you just to make a point. Well that isn’t an option anymore.” She grumbles.

Fine. Fine. I’m a pathetic little eggling, or cub, or whatever who has no idea what’s going on and is trying to make sense of things. HAPPY? There. You want me to do anything else? Or do you want me to grovel?

She pinched our arm for me to dispel the mental image that conjured.

“No. I also don’t need an apology. I just need you to see me as someone who is stuck in the same situation, okay? I didn’t ask for this any more than you did, and I am not trying to ruin your life, like you seem to think I am.”

Fine. Fine. Fine. Where do we go from here, then? How are you going to help me, or how can I help you, or I am so fucking scared right now...

I heard a rare bit of sympathy from the griffon as she replied. “Hey... It’s okay dude. I’m scared too... Do you want to be in control again? Stretch and relax? I know it helps me. Wow I feel pathetic for being so nice to you... But we can’t deal with being in heat and ripping into eachother at the same time.”

No. You take control. It feels better here, I can blame you if anything goes wrong.

She shook her head with a sharp laugh. “Fair enough dude. Fair enough. So... there is one other thing we can do-”

I cut her off, so amazing was my joy. WHAT IS IT?

“You aren’t going to like it... Seriously, that’s why I didn’t mention it before.” She said glumly.

I paused. ...Is it better than getting raped by a random griffon?

“Depends. How freaked out are you by being in a female body?” She says with a grin.

Oh... oh no, nonono, not that. Anything but that.

Half an hour later, we lay half asleep on the floor of the cage in a semi comatose state, but at least our shared body wasn’t screaming at us to mate anymore.

On another note, I now had a surprising knowledge of griffon anatomy. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing, but I felt a bit like vomiting.

“Nah that’s just because we haven’t had any good food for a while, your... stomach? Our stomach will settle once we get in a good raw meal.” She purrs.

… She was purring. That was creepy. Oh god. I felt so dirty.

“RANGER WAKE UP!” I took control of our mouth and shouted on a whim. Please please distract me!...

I could hear footsteps in the distance and a moment later the door opened. “Oh, good morning. How are you feeling?”

Gilda had apparently decided to let me share control for as long as I wanted.

“Rough...” I muttered. What am I supposed to say?

I don’t know. Tell her that we need raw meat or something. Gilda replied lazily.

“Meat. I want meat...” I felt a bit like screaming. ...Can you not be... that content? It’s weird...

“Oh... okay, I’ll get you some food. Raw or cooked?” She asked as Gilda chuckled mentally.

Hey, if I feel good, I enjoy it. Why put on a fake front when it doesn’t matter anyway?

… I hate logic. “Raw. Yeah, raw.”

“Okay, I’ll get some for you. Not letting you out of the cage yet though, I have gotten in touch with command and they say you have all the rights of a person, but that I have to keep you in a cage until they can get someone out to do a psych eval on you. Standard practice for cases where we find a wild griffin wandering the woods.” She says with a smile.

“...They have a standard for griffons?” I asked, a little confused.

The ranger laughed. “It was a joke, but yeah we do now. Be right back.” And she left, closing the door behind her.

… Well. That happened. Kinda.

The purring started up after another minute or two

So uh... What now?

Well, I’m happy. Do whatever you want. Gilda said with a smile.

… You’re kinda... not angry when you’re like this. I pointed out.

She casually took control of her body to yawn and stretch again. “Why would I be angry? I feel fine, we are getting food hand delivered, in my opinion this is better than equestria.”

Well. For one, you’re stuck with me.

She laughed as she rolled on her back and splayed her wings out across the cage floor. “And? We are cool now, no biggie, right? After all, we did just....”

YEAH, stuff, anyway.... I cut her off.

Wait, seriously, you think we’re cool now?

“You could have made this a lot worse, but you finally stopped acting like a dweeb and I think this could work out, so yeah.” The door opened and the ranger returned with a plate on which rested the most beautiful of sights. An uncooked new york steak. “Oh hell yeah.” Gilda muttered as it was set down in front of the cage.

Oh hell yeah...

Rebirth
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Rebirth

Hell yeah.

An agreement. Not something I was used to, and I dared to hope that maybe there would be more agreements of the sort. That in of itself was of a pretty good nature. Like the worst of the clouds had passed in front of the sun, and soon I’d bathe in the ultraviolet rays of the sol that kept everything I could dream of alive. That was the feeling.

The worst was over, and I was free. The worst was beginning, and I was chained. The worst was over, and I was free. The worst was beginning, and I had no part in the struggle for it.

The pain of living, the struggle of remaining just barely above defeat, that immortal spirit of spite that bound those around me together, humanity’s spite... That was fading. Something new was happening, something new, a better understanding, crystalline reasoning outside of the realm of mortal thought, something serpentine slinking through, slithering, hissing, scales on scales feathers on fur, something primal was watching from afar in wonder, wonder at what was happening to the world.

Then I was else where.

It was dark. It was dark and there was no smell, no sound. No light. It wasn’t the absence of them, either. They didn’t exist. There was no knowledge of why they didn’t exist, there was no such thing as light, as sound, as smell, as taste. If there was a taste, it was that of blood.

There was time, however. Time to think.

How much of my life had I wasted waiting for something to happen? How was I supposed to progress ahead if I was always waiting for someone to reach out? I was the one to blame, here. Not Gilda not anyone else, just myself to blame. And I did. There was pain, somewhere. I was there.

Then suddenly...

There were feathers. One or two, in sight. Long, beautiful, golden feathers. White ones, too. They glowed with inner light and summoned me forward. Here, here there was hope.

If there was a smell, it was blood. That was to be certain, you can’t mistake it. So much copper, so much salt.

I was on my own two feet. Human. I was human, I was apart from Gilda, in this place without dimension. This was a new place, but an old one. It was both long and wide, and short and stout. I could see stars, but there was no light that could get past the walls that surrounded me. Dark brick, Ivory white.

I stood on my feet while laying down, and walked forward while crawling backwards. What my eyes could not see my mind could. What my mind would not think my heart could. What my heart could not beat, those are things that are not to be talked about.

Not to be talked about at length.

And here were feathers in this citadel of solemn silence, with the quiet screams of the people next to me playing out their thoughts and whispers of my darkest light.

I walked forward, following the feathers. They were change, and I had the feeling that something special was happening, something unique, something terrifying, something that was new, something old.

But they were the same thing, so it hardly matters what you call it in the end.

And isn’t that something, after all? Two very different people, two very assertive, very mindful of themselves, both wanting to be the one face up on the coin that they occupied.

But isn’t it better to be the side on the ground? You won’t tarnish as fast, if you were like that.

But isn’t it better to be the side facing up? You’re the side everyone cares about. You’re the side that wins bets.

But what coin lives thinking that it will always land heads up? What coin pretends to be ignorant of the other side being the same coin that it is? What person, indeed, doesn’t care about his other half? What person believes that using only his right half will get him farther than using his left side? Or even his wrong side.

I followed the feathers, ignoring the voices of friends who spoke of coins and people. After all, whispered screams are not exactly what you’d expect to hear at anytime, much less while in an odd land far away from others.

Feather after feather, step by step, mind the door. Opened the door, I did. The door was stout, purple even. Shiny door knob.

It hit me I was dreaming, or something was terribly wrong. Or right. And for the life of me, I couldn’t even begin to think why.

For a moment, I thought that Cale was pretty cool. Bad choice of wording. That he was... relatable. Sure. That’s more like it. I could understand him for once.

That, and his little freak out was pretty hilarious. That was a plus. Really though, I could’ve been stuck with worse people. Rapists. Murderers. I’m stuck with a teenager with a bad case of depression, and angst. Not the end of the world for me.

That moment ended when Cale’s presence slipped out of my mind like water through clutching fingers.

Cale?

No response.

“That’s not so good.” I muttered, then flicked my gaze back at the ranger. I was full, meat was delicious, yadda yadda yadda.

Cale...?

The ranger looked at me. What was her name again? Might be polite to the lady with a gun... Uh... Turdy... No... Trude? Trudy. Trudy, yeah that sounds about right.

She jerked her head to look at me, at any rate. “What’s not so good, Gilda?” She had a note of kindness to her voice that brought back some horrible memories of the days before I lived alone.

She reminded me of Fluttershy.

“...” I was going to tell her what was going on, figuring that she probably knew more about people clinging to my body and occasionally possessing it, when I remembered that she had been the one to stab me with a needle and knock me unconscious.

I looked at her and I really couldn’t figure out whether to snarl at her or half heartedly wave a talon at her or just break down into tears. There was a curious emptiness in my head that I wasn’t used to. He wasn’t being silent, he just wasn’t there.

I was worried about him.

In that instant, I did my best to stuff that worry into a flaming pit. Ha. I didn’t worry about anyone.

Except yourself.

That was my own thoughts, taking over for Cale’s sarcasm. Okay then.

I was brought out of thought by the ranger snapping her fingers a few times. “Are you alright? You were acting a little out of it when you came down from flying.”

“Out of it?” I asked.

“You called yourself Cale.”

I froze up at her words, then racked my head for a response. Smooth, Gilda. Just like always, ruining it with your words and actions and SHUT UP.

Damn. Cale messed me up more than I thought he did.

Good riddance.

I wish I could say that and mean it, too.

“That was nothing.” I lied. It was probably written all over my face, too. Was never the best liar. Even back at flight camp...

“Right... Nothing.” She said, with a slight amused smile. “Cale is nobody to you. He’s certainly not the same name of a kid who recently went missing, according to a few campers who were around here who were also the same campers who reported you as being, and I quote, ‘A horrible man eating lion thing.’.”

For once, words failed me in their simplicity. “I have no idea what you are talking about.” In the cage, I tried to back away. I backed away into the cage, by logic, but really, I was trying to back away into safety and protection. There was probably something really symbolic about it, but hell if I knew what it was.

“I got a call from dispatch. They explained that people have been turning into animals, or ponies and such. I’m going to guess that you are Cale. You said as much, and I think you didn’t kill anyone.” She says, getting onto her knees in front of the cage.

I growled at her, a little grumpily, I suppose, not anything too dangerous in its tone. “... I’m Gilda. Cale took a nap or something.”

“So he’s fine. He’s just... in your head, right?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Or care. Can I get out of here already?” I narrowed my gaze at her. “And what do you mean oth-” Ah, memories of a newcast drifted through my head. My eyes widened for a second, just long enough for a chain of thought to drift through.

Here’s your shot, Gilda.

That was my thought, not Cale. Hard to tell the difference sometimes.

You can find those ponies, Dash. Shy, her friends, they’re probably tied up in this, and you can make amends with them.

“-er ponies...” I trailed off.

She raised an eyebrow. “Other people have been turning into ponies all over the world.”

“I’m a griffon.” I said, with an almost insulted tone to my voice. Really, I didn’t mean to put it there, but there it was. “And I need to leave.” I repeated. Here was purpose and holy broken shells it felt great to have it again.

She let out a laugh. “I’m all for that, but I have the feeling that you mean more than just leaving the cage.”

“...I need to try and...” The rest of the words clung to my throat like raw fish, and my pride welled up like thick molten rubber. “I need to see... friends...” I was choking up, and badly. “... I need to track down some friends and... say I’m... … sorry...”

I was almost in tears by the end of that. Man. I felt pathetic.

Her eyes seemed to melt in sympathy, and after a moment she opened the cage. “Okay. Hell, I wish I’d had the courage to do that, I might not be alone in the middle of a forest. I’ll give you some supplies and medicine, as long as you promise to take it as directed, and you can go.”

“...That’s it...?” I muttered, feeling oddly... sad... “... Keep in touch?” That was a human gesture that seemed fitting at the time.

She chuckled, offering her arms in a hug. “Yeah, i'll give you my phone number, you can call if you need help.”

Awkwardly, I realized that hugging while still in the cage would be a little demeaning, and was unsure how to address that without breaking the mood.

“Come on, you can come out.” She says with a smile.

I walked out, a little cautiously. What was she planning on doing?

She pulled me into a hug and patted the back of my head in a motherly sort of way before letting go. “Come on, lets get you a backpack and some supplies.”

...She hugged me? That was.... … … nice...

“Alright.” I muttered.

She led me to the main room and I got a chance to rest on the pullout bed again as she fetched supplies. “What are your friends’ names?”

I growled under my breath, feeling a little cowed. And pathetic. “Rainbow Dash... Fl-” Was I still friends with her? I never really got her reaction... Where’s Cale? I could really use him to poke holes in my reasoning. “Fluttershy.” Sure. Let’s called her my friend.

“Sound like nice people, or ponies? Griffins?” She asks as she loads a camping stove and a few cans of pop top stew into a backpack along with a medical kit.

“Ponies.” I nodded, watching her. “And that phone number?” It might come in handy. Words like character reference came to mind.

She gets a sticky note and writes down her number, before sticking it in a small front pocket of the backpack. “Certainly, call me anytime you need help.”

Finally she finishes packing the whole bag to bulging with supplies and zips it up. “Too heavy to fly?”

I gave it an experimental heft, then did a few scenarios over the weight in my head. Light enough to turn well enough. Light enough for me to stay in the air...

On a hunch, I managed to find what remained of the old supply bag Cale had made up and pulled out his phone. Ignoring the fact that I had to manage to type with my back paws, I went through what I remembered, and was soon on that human thing called Facebook. I went over to the shy pony’s page and left her a little message.

Gilda is better. Watch out, I’m coming for you, Shy!

If she found that ominous, then she was even more of a wimp than I remembered. With that taken care of, and the ranger’s giggles at the awkward position forgotten, I was soon on my way.

Next stop?

New york city, if I was lucky.

I took the first few steps out of the cabin, bag pressing against my back like an iron weight and was immediately struck by a sense that something had changed about me that I was not entirely sure was a bad thing. There was a sense of purpose now, and that was something joyously new to my step. It was with purpose I strode into the new, and with purpose that I touched off from land and took to the air.

A little low, perhaps, but that was less from the weight of my mental baggage and more the weight of my physical baggage.

A voice, unlike any I’d ever heard before, decided to chime in from my left.

“Catching the redeye out of new york, gilda?”

I jerked, almost falling out of the sky. THE HELL? I turned my head and saw an odd mashed up mess of a creature laying down on a cloud that somehow was both keeping pace with me and giving the appearance of standing perfectly still. “...The hell?” I vocalized my question.

“No, not hell. Equestria. I’m from that magical pony land as well, my good friend.” It explains, grinning with a single fang as it floats alongside me.

“...Right. So are you... one of the human dweeb things turned into a monster from Equestria?” I guessed. That, or maybe I had finally lost what little remained of my sanity.

Where the hell is Cale?

“Oh not at all, I am more of a... Background character, in every way. You know how that is, I’m sure. But I have a great deal of power due to this crazy... character I got mixed up with. I was wondering if you’d like to help me deal with some of those Dweebs.” He proposed.

… “Hm... Whaddya got in mind, exactly?” I was a little... there was something off about this.

“Some pranks, just messing with them some, maybe you could drop by and say hi to that rainbow colored one, your character was her friend, right?” He asked with a confident smile, lounging on his cloud.

“...Character?” I blinked at him a few times, blankly. “... Huh?” There was something about a Tv show in memories. Didn’t mean much.

“You know, Gilda and rainbow dash, sitting in a tree?” He asked, looking at me like I was missing something obvious.

“...” I growled at him. “We weren’t like that, creep.” I backed away in the air, ever so slowly. He was giving me the creeps.

“Okay, okay. But I think you should go see her. I can help get you there.” He coaxes. “You just have to do something for me.”

Where the hell are you Cale? I REALLY needed him... Ugh. I sound like such a dweeb. “Such as...” I rolled my eyes, trying to pull my bravado back to front. “Come on, you’re starting to bore me.”

“I want you to stop the pink one. The one that gave you so much trouble in the past. I just want you to slow her down, maybe drop her off somewhere to slow her down. Then I’ll get you to rainbow dash.” he explains. “No need to hurt anypony, and you get your payback.”

I cocked my head to the side and thought it over. “Anything else I need to know?” Pinkie... what was her name? Stinkie eye? Pinkie rye? Something about a bakery pun. “Anything at all? And well... Where are they?”

“Oh, I’ll get you there too. They are staying in a hotel, but they will be coming out of the hotel soon.” he shrugs, sipping a drink that appeared out of nowhere.

“And... My job is to... stop them.” I was trying to make amends, after all. Maybe this could... work? “Also. Heal my leg, or it is a no deal.”

“Just keep them from continuing on towards New York.” he says “And I’ll fix your leg, sure.”

I nodded at him. Huh. That went better than I thought it would. “Say... What’s your name?” Privately, I wondered why on earth he was talking to me about it. I mean, seriously. Send some other dweeb to ruin Fluttercry’s day. Like a stiff breeze. Yeah. She’d probably start bawling if the wind picked up too much.

Listen to yourself. Good. You’re already back to making fun of everything.

Shut up, Self. Just wait til Cale gets back from... wherever.

“My name is Discord.” He says, snapping his claws and instantly making my leg feel a heck of a lot better. “And I can’t wait to see how this turns out.”

Then, with a crack of thunder, I was falling through darkness.

There were feathers around me, and I felt a little lost there. There was nothing, and there was everything.

And all I could do was watch.

Renewal
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Renewal

SUP NERD?

I know it is never a good way to start something like this, but hey.

And then I was on a rooftop a fair distance away from the hell forest I used to be in. And by fair distance, I mean, like, the air tasted different. A good... 300 miles or something? The air tasted sweet. Yeah, sweet. Candy.

With open eyes I surveyed the world around me. Yeah. Rooftop. That’s what I thought. Overlooking a... Shop... Thing... Mall. That’s the word. Stupid word. There was a crowd around the mall, swamping my view of the doors. Lame. Laaaaaaaaaaaame.

“What have you gotten yourself into this time, Gilda?” I muttered, kicking the top of the roof. “Weird place, no excuse on how I’m here... No bullet wound.” Shit. I forgot the bullet wound? How the hell was I supposed to explain that away?

I’ll claim something something griffon healing.

No way that’ll-

Stop thinking it and just do it. With that, I was a predator again, and oozed confidence from all my pores like fine cologne. The good stuff in the fancy bottles I loved to smash if I could. I grinned widely. Here we go!

My keen eyes locked on to something that could only be ponies. Looks like the snake thing was right on target here. Ponies and humans and so many...

I landed behind the crowd and listened in for any reason on why they were blocking my prey. They were asking questions, so many of them that my ears were starting to hurt and my nerves were starting to twinge in that they hadn’t even noticed me standing behind them.

“All questions will be answered later!” A rather young voice, I could pick out through the low cacophony of the crowd. A few other words were snatched away like they were in the wind.

Then something strange happened. Like an electric shock, a bolt of lightning, something tingled at my very core! There was something in the air, magic, wind, something to get carried off by, like the very world itself was a stage for me.

...Shit, it’s a musical scene...

Oddly, it wasn’t overpowering, or any kind of similar to any of the other songs I had ever experienced. Gone were the dream drums of the heartbeat, gone was the simple harps which made up the most of the griffon music.

“Boys and girls of every age...” Hey wait a minute, I knew that voice... Wow. This was going to be an easy mission. Pinkie Pie herself, my quarry, belted out the first line. Go figure, right?

“Wouldn’t you like to see something strange...” She finished, looking a little amused for herself. I could just barely see her through the sea of reporters, and quite frankly, she looked absolutely ridiculous, with something weird helmet on her head which probably did nothing to help with her vision, and covered in... blue paint. And black paint. And white paint.

Snazzy as always, Pie.

“Come with us and you will see, this our town of halloween.” Shy? Is that... shy? She seemed... not half as pathetic as I remembered. Huh. Maybe she grew a spine? A flash of amusement broke through me as I considered alternatives. Or maybe someone else gave her a spine? Heh...

At this point I decided that announcing myself would be the best idea for me. After all, it wasn’t like this crowd of idiots with cameras were going to be moving anytime soon. I shoved my way into the mass of morons.

I heard a stifled REALLY get shouted out by someone, clearly young. I paused. How many ponies was I about to run into?

“This is halloween, This is halloween, pumpkins scream in the dead of night.” Someone said, a little exasperated. Oh come on. You’re doing it wrong, whoever said that! You don’t just interfere with the music! You embrace it, have a great time with it, use it to get things done! With music, you can overcom-

I sound like a sappy loser.

“This is HALLOWEEN! EVERYBODY MAKE A SCENE.” I took my feeling of inadequacies out on the loser camera people who DARED to restrict my passage. Screw them, this was my moment to milk all of the glory out of. They could all go to shards.

I heard ‘Shy make a gasping noise and almost knew for certain that she had taken a few steps back. Ha. Knew she didn’t actually grow a spine. I guess ponies can’t change.

A tiny voice in the back of my head pointed out the fact that I had been about to change myself and apologize to Dash when I got drafted for this mission, but I told it to go jump off a cliff with broken wings.

Almost as if Pinkie was somehow that voice in the back of my head, she was suddenly hurling herself through the air with more grace than I would ever have given her credit for, landing on my back. Ouch. “Trick or treat, till the neighbors come and die of fright!”

That was her singing, not me. I barely resisted the urge to seize her body and hurl her into the chat like some piece of rotten meat. Ugh.

“It’s our town, everybody scream! ...in this town of halloween.” A male voice called out, with a tone that reminded me of authority. Well, authority if authority decided to turn into a teenager with a sore throat. Eh.

“I am the one hiding under your bed, Teeth ground sharp, and eye glowing RED!” Stinkie Pie said from ON TOP OF ME. It was then that I had the feeling that she was doing this to tone back the intimidation factor of one as ferociously awesome as one such as I.

As such, I barely resisted the urge to see just how well she could recover from a hard talon fist to her singing face. Can’t interrupt the song after all.

HA! The crowd had parted and I was in front of Shy herself.

Shy, just like Should-be-off-my-back Pie, was in a ridiculous costume. Like a gothic doll or something. Honestly, she didn’t look that bad in it, but since I knew it was Shy trying to pull it off, it didn’t work at all.

“I am the one hiding under your s... stairs, feathers like snakes and spiders in my hair.” Pfft. How pathetic. She was trying to put a little distance between herself and I. And this was the pony who Cale had so desperately sent a message... to..

About getting shot...

I turned and shot Goth-Shy a hungry grin, a wicked one, a hungry grin, full of beak. Worry about it later, you idiot. How could you forget about that!

Well, you didn’t expect for Shy to be right next to the Pink Plague, did you? Of course you didn’t and of course they were together. Hell, they could be... dating...

I was so preoccupied I missed my line and someone else took it in a chorus.

“This is Halloween, this is Halloween, Halloween, Halloween, HALLOWEEN!”

Dammit, I needed some drums in this song. I could barely carry on.

“In this town we call home, everyone hail to the pumpkin song!” Annoyingly squeaky and certainly-in-need-of-a-throat-lozenge chorused out, not even that bad.

The pink plague of any party used my back as a springboard and pounced, well, almost pounced on Little miss Gothic Shy. “In this town, don’t we love it now? Everybody’s waiting for the next surprise!” She spun like a stripper. I swear, with her body paint, she looked like a stripper with headgear.

Shy spoke up this time, taking another opportunity for my line. Dammit Gilda, get with the game or you’ll lose everything! “Round that corner, man hiding in the trash can, Something’s waiting now to pounce, and how you’ll...”

“SCREAM!”

I swear, if there was ever a time I wanted to agree with the portable party ruiner, it was right then and there. Shy jumped in the air like a marionette.

“This is halloween, red black and slimy green.” AND HERE’S MY LINE:

“AREN’T YOU SCARED?” ... Damn, I was hoping for a bigger line. I was aware, again, of the throngs of idiots pressing against me. I pushed them away. They were bloody lucky I didn’t make them unlucky and bloody.

Female voice this time spoke the next line. “Well, that’s just fine.” Then she took to flying. What the hell? And alicorn? What was I dealing with here? “Say it once, say it twice, take a chance and roll the dice! Ride with the moon in the dead of night!”

A regular human belted out a line. “Everybody scream, everybody scream!” Well, regular so much as he was human. He was dressed as the party plague.

“In our town of halloween.” They had enough voices in this song to be a miniature army.

“This is halloween, this is halloween, Halloween! Halloween! Halloween! Halloween! Halloween! Halloween!”

An adorable filly, I mean, annoying filly dressed up in a green tunic like some kinda... I don’t know, whatever, broke out into a line. “Tender lumplings everywhere!”

“Life’s no fun without a good scare!”

“That’s our job...” Dinkie Pie stated, cutting off mid way.

“But we’re not mean...” FairyShy finished. She looked ridiculous, really, what was she even thinking?

They finished it again. “In our town of Halloween.”

At that, the music called me to take to the air. So I did. Look, I know it’s a little lame, but you don’t deny the music anything. ANYTHING. I would seriously do just about anything if the music demanded it. If you didn’t follow the music, well, bad things happened. You became the butt of the music, the down pouring of rain would follow you about like bad luck while every other person was blessed with the resolution of whatever problem summoned the magic to make everything resonate with song. As it was, I had probably already botched it, and bad luck was sure to follow me around. Dammit.

Call me superstitious, call me stupid, but just look at what happens when you aren’t a part of the singers.

“In this town, don’t we love it now? Everybody’s waiting for the next surprise...”

I was joined by another, and we were compelled to sing another line. This was kinda laame...

“This is halloween, this is Halloween,Halloween! Halloween! Halloween! Halloween!”

I don’t claim to really understand exactly how it worked out, and am really quite ashamed to admit it ever happened, but somehow, I found myself in the middle of a pyramid of ponies.

“In this town, we call home, everyone hails to the pumpkin throne.” Annoyingly squeaky spat out. I really needed to learn her name.

“La la la, la-la la la la, la-la la la la, la-la la, la-la whee!” Somehow... Somehow...

Fine. Pinkie pie was on top of me, and so was the little filly. Happy? I admitted it.

The song stopped, and all was quiet for a few moments. Then the reporters burst into applause. Ha. Felt good to be admired.

As I sat there, and the applause died down, the pyramid fell apart. Flutterfail grabbed the tiny squeaky pony and carried her down from the pyramid, and then I jerked myself out of the pyramid, hoping that the pink abomination fell down and hurt herself.

Not badly, though. That might provoke another musical.

“Oh, and also, we’ve decided to go around this city and ask for candy while wearing funny costumes. Is that alright with everyone?” Pinkie said, after a long moment.

Hell to the no. NO. NOOOOO.

“Hell no, let’s talk.” If I had my way with it, I’d make sure they never moved out from here.

Recursion
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Recursion

“Hell no. Let’s talk.”

Flutterfail seemed to almost shrink at that, with her characteristic umming and her characteristic ...Dweebitude? Is that a word? It is now, while I’m being all bitter about it.

Ugh. “Um... so yes, we will be trick or treating, thank you everyone!” She led us, and by led, I mean I followed, no way she led me around, behind a... giant metal thing set on wheels that I kinda thought resembled a cart. Cart. Word sounded about right and without Cale, I wasn’t exactly in possession of an adequate thesaurus of human stuff.

Right, back to what I was going through, she ducked behind the... cart thing and shot me a look. “So.... You said you got shot in that message.”

… SHARDS. SHARDS SHARDS SHARDS SHARDS! The message? Why on... FRACTURE YOU, CALE.

“I did. I got better.” I leaned against the metal cart and did my best to give out that nearly patented aura of awesomeness that I projected. Oh yeah. I’m Gilda. I’m baaaaad. “Why, you worried, Flutters?” I took on a tone that should unnerve her. Maybe I could get her to drop it?

Heh heh. When did everything go wrong?

She stopped in her tracks and looked away, just as planned.

The... big bad and not at all threatening pony spoke up next. Yeesh, I’m in rare form today with the insults. “Why are you here? You should be headed to New York with everyone else, or headed somewhere else instead of coming here to antagonize Erica.”

Erica? Erica... erica? ...Erica... Erica...shy? Ericashy? What sort of a portmanteau was that?

Better question, since when did I know what a portmanteau was?

The pink ru- Frackture it all, let me just call her Pinkie Pie since she was still dressed up in her absolutely ridiculous costume, spoke up with her normal ear splitting voice. “Hey, what? She got shot? Wait wait wait, sorry, back up here, when did this happen?!”

Dang it, Pie. Can you not ruin something? IS THAT TOO HARD FOR YOU TO LEAVE WELL ENOUGH ALONE? ...Wow. I’m getting emotional. Keep cool, Gilda. Worst you can do right now is blow this. “Doesn’t matter,” I said with a bit of an aloof feel. “I can’t exactly let you get to New York, you see.” I looked away to hide my regret over just how far this was not helping me to get back to Dash... and make friends again. “Pretty obvious trap.”

Man, I was getting sappy.

“Yes. I get it. Dissy’s playing a fun game.... you got any better ideas?” I didn’t actually, but I was not about to let Pinks in on that little tidbit.

Erishy...? Meh. Flutters spoke up, for once saving me by doing so. “It does matter. When did you got shot? Because if it was when you sent that message, it was only two days ago or so.”

Wait what. Two days? I was knocked out quite a bit more than two days, I had to have been!

I blinked. “Only two days? Felt a whole lot longer than that, Shy. ‘Sides, I had it treated. Found a friendly ranger...” I shook my head a little, as if to discourage any pursuit of that discussion. “Really, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

Pinkie spoke up in ridiculous outfit. It had been a while since I had been around this many ponies and people in general, so my patience was starting to wear a little. “Uh huh. Alright, you can play tough girl for a little while longer, but if you start hurting from your obviously makeshift healing... whatever, you tell us or I get to bop you on the head. Welcome to the caravan, by the way!”

Welcome to the caravan by the way!”

I paused. Seriously? Even I knew that you couldn’t heal from a bullet that fast. Did they seriously buy that line? Suckers... “Caravan?”

Someone else spoke up that I didn’t know the name of. Harold, was his name, as I would later learn. “We have three cars and three drivers... well, four if you can drive.

The tiny pony... Looked kinda like an apple pony... Wait... I think I know her name... Apple blood? Appleblood. Naw, that’s too cool for a pony. Applebloom? “Ah was one of tha drivers... til this mornen.” Yeah. Definitely an Apple.

Pinkie sniffed the air a little suspiciously, and I smoothly brought myself out of her range of divination.

Finally, I brought myself to ask the questions. “...What’s a car?”

Everyone moved to stare at me with such blatant incredulity that I felt like I had actually done something wrong.

After a few moment of this, Pinkie Pie spoke up. “...Where’s your human?”

Human? Cale? For a few seconds I felt the most profound feeling of loss that I had experienced on a long time. I experienced this just long enough for me to shove it aside and snap its scrawny neck like it was a sick animal.

I didn’t respond.

“A car is one of these. A cart that moves when you press a pedal. But really, what happened to your human half? We all had to go through it, no need to be embarrassed, Gilda.”

For a moment, I felt a deep tang of bitterness that I could hardly even recognize in the slightest as being from me, and I tried to bring it up like someone dredging up the richest of black oils from the depths of an ocean.

Then it was gone and I realized that I was still standing before everyone. I growled, mostly at myself for being so dweebish as to zone out during a conversation. “I’m not embarrassed.” I spat out, quickly. “I have no idea where the hell he is.” If possible, I sure as hell tried my best to look even more ferocious. “Where the hell is that ungrateful shard monger.” I muttered the last bit as a side note.

“...That... can’t be good... a mind just... deleting itself.” Pie said, summing up my feelings on the matter near precisely. Eh. Except for the deleting part.

...A girl dressed up as flutters spoke up. What, is Flutters some sort of... popular thing? Come on, she’s Fluttershy! Oh, maybe it’s some sort of holiday? That might explain why everyone looks absolutely ridiculous. “Yeaaaaaah.”

Armorhead spoke next. Or... Strider. Strider? Hm... Strider. “Wait just a second. There was a human mind there, and now it is gone?” Way to state the obvious, armor boy.

I shrugged, a little fed up with all the restatements. “Look, he just hasn’t done anything in a few hours. I’m sure he’s just sulking or something. He does that.”

Apple Bloom face palmed. Facehoofed. Eh.

Pinks sniffed the air again, then again, her face making something that resembled that of a cat smelling something it shouldn’t be. Then she turned straight to me with the same odd look and opened her mouth. This, I might add, her opening her mouth, was never a good sign, from what I had found through experience. “You’re in heat aren’t you.”

To my credit, I didn’t slam a fist into her face for pointing that out.

Apple Bloom shoved two hooves into her face. Yeesh. Masochistic much?

Erishy, as I was now going to call her by her stupid portmanteau, blushed, then facehooved.

Pffft. I wonder...

Oh wait, crap, I’m supposed to get angry at this, not zone out. Donning my best anger look, I burst. “Shut up. Really? You gotta tell EVERYONE here that? Dweeb, maybe I DIDN’T WANT PEOPLE TO KNOW?” I managed, again, to my credit, to appear even more angry.

Cueing forth another facehoof, this time from Strider Hiryu.

“...actually, on second thought, nothing I could say could fix this situation, so I’m wiping the last half minute from my memory. Let’s go trick or treating!” Wow. Did she like, grow a brain or something? No way.

She also... pulled out a pumpkin... basket... and hopped away. Merrily. I was honestly a little surprised she wasn’t whistling a tune.

Don’t you dare even try to brain that, she just had it suddenly. Whatever.

Then the Shy Eris tackled me into a hug.

…

Wow. She’s actually pretty soft. I was expecting her to be more bony and clumsy. Eh. Time’s treated her well, I guess.

I blinked at her a few times before she spoke. “Come trick or treating with us. Please?” She begged, her eyes wide with... what’s the word I’m looking for that doesn’t make this weird... Adulation?

When the hell did I learn that word? I blame Cale.

“...The hell? Seriously? Fine.” I... forced myself to wince at the hug, and fought off the urge to shiver. Well... This trick or treating thing... I was supposed to stop them from moving forward... What’s the worst that could happen to me?

Apple Bloom spoke up. “Sorry ‘bout him... he was awkward before tha whole... Pinkie thang.” Talking about Pinkie Pie, obviously. So... having a guy human tag along was the standard?

Erishy finally released the hug, the hug that I had, for the most part, started to disregard as even happening. “Oh yeah, so the human halves...” Wait wait wait. Halves? What the hell is THAT supposed to mean? The only thing Cale was half of was a pain in my neck. “Pinkie’s human half is named Reid. Mine was-” Was. WAS? WAS?!? “-named Erica, This here is Ian, in Apple Bloom’s body. Cadence’s human half is Linda and this is Julien in Shining Armor’s body.”

Pssssht. Julien? Who in their right mind names someone Julien?

“Actually, Julien and Shining are... um... the same, now...” Princess ‘Mi have an annoying voice’ Cadenza, I remembered her invitation to some sort of royal wedding that I most certainly never received said out loud, which caused another stab of shock, a bit of fury and quite a bit of... fear? Yeah. Fine. I’ll admit it. I was scared.

Juliarmor spoke after a moment. “Oh yeah, forgot to make an announcement, But anyway...” I barely resisted the urge to stab something.

“The same? That h-happens?” Oh, listen to yourself, Gilda. You sound like a stuttering hatchling.

“I know how you feel... Look, no offense against you, GIlda, but you’ve got to figure out what happened to your human before you lose him entirely.” Like hell I was going to care about Cale after hearing that bit. I was so not going to... merge with some snot nosed emo brat. Ugh.

Out of the corner of my eye EmoShy snuck off.

“... I honestly don’t give a care for him. Jerk almost broke my wings.” I looked away, pointedly, to hide my disgust. That’s all.

Then, Then, Linda flipped out on me and turned into every griffon’s worst nightmare. A magic toting psycho pony. I was pressed up against the car rather savagely which sent a large spike of phantom pain through my leg, you know, the one that was only so recently mended from the bullet? Yeah, that one. “And I DON’T give a FUCK about your shit, I’m not letting anybody die if I can help it.”

I had a snappy retort all planned and ready to hurl in her face about how much of a hypocrite she was being by almost killing me right then and there, but really, I couldn’t speak due to the pressure pinning me there. Bitch ponies. See, this is why I don’t trust so easily. They always take their chances to cheap shot you the second you let your guard down. Dammit. Dammit.

I felt a solid molten steel spike of anger come from the emotional forge of my mind. Grrrrr...

“DOWN GIRL!” someone screamed.

Cadence ‘Mi is very crazy’ snarled. “Shut it!”

“Honey. Bubbles.” My... knight in shining armor... groan... spoke up, Shining Armor, that is, and said perhaps the lamest come back ever said ever. Honey bubbles? Seriously? If those are the last words I hear before I die I will never live this down in hell.

Honey. Bubbles. Are you fucking kidding me.

“Bubbles, what? What do....” My oppressor, my jail warden, my executioner said in a most... bubbly of tones.

Are you kidding me. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? And then she passed out, slumping over. Then she hopped right back up.

…

Seriously?

“Sorry about her.” The pony who almost killed me said, in a markedly different manner. What, is this some sort of freaky alternate personality thing? Like, is her Cale a murderous bitch?

All I could do was grunt at her while gasping for breath on the ground.

Author's Note

Recess
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Recess

For the first time in a long time I felt the bare cold upon my body. I felt the wind whistle over bare skin, the bare wind, everything was so very very bare. I was bare to the world. It felt great.

I eventually stood up and realized that the reason why I felt so bare was because I was human again and I was standing up on two legs. I was in the snow.

I was in the snow and everything was cold and I was bare to the world and the world was examining me. I couldn't tell if it liked what it saw or not, nor did I know whether I wanted it to think I was to be liked or not, nor did I imagine the consequences involved in that judgment.

I did not think more than I was. I knew that I was a man... Teenager... close enough whatever. The point was that I was human and I was on a strange mountainside that was covered in snow and I was being examined.

It was looking at me. It was watching me. It was indescribable... It was there.

After a while of staring at It, I decided to take a few steps on my humans legs and try to impress It that I was worthy of It's affections.

The first step was easy. Practiced. I wasn't out of practice from a few days of walking on all fours, and my body was perfect for walking on two legs only. It felt great. Perfect. Terrific. The wind whistled and I finally got up the nerve to look up into the sky.

The moon was hanging low in the sky and seemed as large as the mountain was. It seemed that I could almost reach down and grab it, that I could feel how lonely the moon in the sky was.

The moon was lonely because there were no stars.

I think that was symbolic of something. I didn't really know what it could be other than heavy handed dream symbolism and I honestly thought that the creator of this little dream was pushing it on how the moon looked so lonely.

I felt for the moon, though. It had to share the sky with the sun.

There were no stars and it was one of the clearest nights I had ever seen. As I watched, and I must've been watching for hours on end in the snow that wasn't as cold as the wind nor cut at me like the crisp zephyr, it passed behind the mountain. It left me cloaked in darkness apart from the light that emanated from It.

It was brighter than the sun and the moon and all the stars combined. I couldn't stare at It but It stared at me.

I stared back at It and It only stared through me and looked disappointed that I didn't know what It was.

I stared back at It and It only stared and remained silent.

"I am Cale." I finally thought to say.

It must've been an echo from the mountain which hid the too full moon but I heard the reply; "I am Cale." It seemed to say as in echo. It was impossible that It was I, of course. I was me. There was no real way to describe it, but I knew that I was who I was and that It was not me, that It couldn't be me.

I had the sudden feeling that It was a He. He was staring at me. He was disappointed that I didn't know who He was.

He stared at me and He spoke. "Hello Cale. I am Cale."

I took a perilous step towards what was to greet me.

Then another.

There was a distinct smell of blood in the air. It hung thick and heavy like a cloak in the snow, like a few drops of crimson ichor that tainted the purity of it...

Then I saw a feather floating down from the sky.

Floating Down.

It was a bloody feather floating down from the sky.

It passed in front of Him and I finally knew what he was.

He was an egg.

I was staring at an egg.

"Do you understand, Cale?"

It was a gryphon egg. I was perfectly calm. I could barely breath. This... this was special. This was something that I could finally understand, could finally be in control of... it was a promise, it was pure... purity... pure... I... I...

"Yes."

The egg cracked open and I came out.

Resuscitate.
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Resuscitate.

Resuscitate.

“Find your human if he can. If not, I am sure he will be able to fend for himself, the spell that is doing all of this doesn’t seem inclined to let either party die.” Except for it not protecting from bullets. That, that right there was a flaw. Asshole. Your... wife thing just tried to kill me AND ALL YOU CAN SAY IS THAT I SHOULD FIND CALE?

Ugh... Right... I panted on the ground, my chest heaving. He was right, I needed to find Cale. It would be better then.

What? No it wouldn’t!!? We would just go back to fighting immediately. Not that it would be a bad thing to be stuck with him, but...

My eyes widened in intense disgust. No. No way in hell.

I was thinking of Cale in terms of a mating partner.

… Heat. Blaming it on the heat.

“I’m sorry, what the fuck just happened?” Ginny... or whoever spoke up. She was probably just talking about my near death experience. Yeah.

The pipsqueak, Ian or whatever... “...Ah’m thinken’ maybe Ah should fine Reid.” She spoke and ran off. Suddenly, I wasn’t feeling very good at all. Ugh... Just like my stomach had dropped out of me and I was trying to scoop my intestines back up like they were spaghetti. Oh...

“W-what....ever... Can I g-” I cut myself off and tried to hold in the sudden urge to vomit in my nausea. Ugh... When was the last time I had eaten? A day? Longer? I needed some meat... Er, right, there was something going on. “I...”

Interrupting Pinkie Pie, that is, she interrupted me, appeared with... bags. She looked incredibly pleased with herself that she had found bags. Good for her, I guess. “I just realized none of you have loot bags!” She chirped out. I was surprised that she wasn’t bouncing about.

Shining Sucker took his bag from from the Pinkie... goblin thing. Really. This was some sort of costume thing.

After awhile I decided to take the bag into my talons. “... Alright.” I must’ve looked pissed and or noxious.

Pinkie started talking again and I shut her out. Seriously. It wasn’t like she ever said annything of any importance.

Shining Dumbass broke me from my tuning out of outside distractions with all the subtlety of a sledghammer to the face.

“Well, let’s go, you can figure out your internal existential crisis while we are on the move Gilda, this is a military operation. No rest for the weak!” … Fuck you too, asshole.

“Gather as much candy as possible and... er... try not to grab onto Shiney too much. His wife’s right there.”... REALLY? DID YOU REALLY JUST MAKE THAT COMMENT? I managed to make myself puff up a little in anger, but I decided to not go after Pinkie with all the murderous force that a griffon could bear for fear of making her think up another inane heat based comment.

Murder psycho Cadence summed up my thoughts with a bit less rage. “...Pinkie...”

“...How did I get into this mess of lunatics...” And those were the words that I said. I followed after Shining asshole as well. ...Should I just refer to them by their real names? I was running out of nicknames at the time.

“It must have been fate!” … That was Pinkie. She... regrettably also followed me.

Fluttershy appeared from out of nowhere it seemed and picked up Ian and totally joined out group with a few empty headed reporters following after me. They probably took pictures of my sexy ass.

Cale would probably want those. I mean. SHIT. DAMMIT HEAT.

“....sooooooo. Um. Griffon, huh?” Ginny, who honestly was probably the only remotely cool member of the party... caravan... whatever I was in decided to start talking to me. For once, I almost felt guilty for giving the automatically gruff reply.

“Yeah. Griffon. Got any other smar- Any questions?”

“Fucking sweet.” That’s a good girl.

“Language! Fillies present!” Up yours, Pie.

“TWENTY! AH’M TWENTY!” Said the incredibly screwed over little pony.

“I mean, you must be a real badass, right? Fighting dragons and sh--stuff like that.” Truly, a mare after my own heart.

“Yeah. I guess!” Then reality kicked me in the face and my often abused self consciousness awoke. “Never fought a dragon.”

Something was tickling at my head. They... Dammit, I needed Cale for this. He was supposed to worry about shit, and I was supposed to be the one who actually did shit. They... They had to suspect me already and I was really just trying to make friends and graaaaaah... Thinking was hard all of a sudden...

“ARE YOU CALLING ME FAT?!” ...Thanks Pie for interrupting me.

Ian twenty year old filly person spoke. “Eeeeeeyup.”

“From the mouth of babes...”

“You do have a bit of pudge, but you pull it off quite well.”

Finally, I spoke up, realizing that I hadn’t in quite some time. “Look, you’re not fat, Portly Pie.”

Erishy spoke as well, nailing the fact that Pinkie was FAT.“I... Do you want a ride, Pinkie? I mean, I’ve carried Twilight before and that wasn’t too bad... You are skinnier than Twi after all...” HA! Totally lying.

“You know what? I’m WALKING.” What a drama queen.

“Excellent observation, Pinkie, you are walking. We all are walking. You also happen to be giving the entire caravan a great view of your painted posterior. Jackie, that your handiwork?” I didn’t give a damn who Jackie was, but I had a feeling that was the name of someone in the group I hadn't bothered to learn yet. And seriously, stop talking about asses. The only ass I was going to give a damn about was my own until this heat was through.

I facepalmed and most definitely did not look at Portly pie’s painted posterior presented presently. “... You guys are worse than the ranger was.”

Pinkie turned... pinker in embarrassment an scuttled her way to the back where she hopefully wouldn’t bother anyone ever again.

Princess Mi a very psychotic spoke her venom and added it to the equation. “Dear, don’t tease her.”

“She was quite twitchy actually.” Said Jackie.

“SO! Gilda! Would you like a funny hat?” Pinkie piped her pestilent voice.

For a brief moment, an errant thought attempted to take root in my head regarding whether or not I looked well without being painted. I suddenly wished that I wasn’t there as I clearly wasn’t a part of this group, nor should I have been at any point in time a part of the group. Then, realizing that I was just going to be depressed again, I blotted it out from my mind. “...Hat?”

“Halloween! Costumes!” Way to grammar, Pinks.

Shy, for once, rolled her initiative and walked up to the nearest door. “Um... Trick or treat?” What. Did I really just use the term roll for initiative? Ugh. I feel... dirty.

Of course, there was no answer.

Which is why I took over, walked over to the damn door and slammed my fist into it. There was no pain, since you know, I have proper fists.

Pinkie shoved me to the side and I took the time to exercise my will to not strangle her. Of course, the door opened long before she actually knocked, so she fell flat on her face in a display which made me almost beam in approval.

Oh. Also, some dweeb with a pony shirt answered the door. Pinkie was an elegant as ever with her incredible stupidity and merely said… “uh. hi. So …. um…”

“Is this heaven?” He looked like he had orgasmed. Seriously. He looked like the heavens were falling down upon him. Like he had been touched by the hands of GOD!

Ugh. I’m ridiculous.

“No, if it were heaven, we’d actually be coming in instead of mooching off candy.” Pinkie pie was even more ridiculous than I was.

And then the brony person saw me. His eyes lit up like a rare treat or something. Which was a little weird, because then he said my name.

Brony. Where did that word come from? I’d blame Cale, but that’s more or less cliche and token by this point.

“Dude, Gilda?” Why did he know my name? “Wow. you guys are amazing… and in my town, too… Just a sec…” He walked back into the house.

“Oh… this is so nice. Getting to meet new people.” Erishame said without a hint of nervousness, which was really against her character from what I could tell.

I was now decidedly uncomfortable about everything. I was missing something. “...I never understood how these people know about us.”

“I’ll explain later, just smile and wave for now.” That was rich. Since when did Pie ever do anything but ruin anything she tried to make better?

The … brony… came back with a huge supply of candy and gave it out a handful at a time to each pony before stopping in front of me. For me, he dumped the entire bowl into my bag. You know, because he apparently liked me or something. Whatever. “Don’t let the dweebs get you down.”

Pie better have a shell of an explanation.

I snapped out of my thoughts (again) and blinked. Then I looked at the bad. “Sure… Go on… being cool and stuff. Yeah.” I looked surprised.

We walked to the next house, the brony behind me waving us on.

“I should forewarn you, Gilda, you’re a... controversial character and some of the peeps may not like you at first. If that happens, let me do the talking.”

I paused, but kept following the group. “Character. There’s that word again.” What. I… I had… Character? I was…

I felt like I was forgetting something.

“Relative fictionality. Basically, from their viewpoint you’re a storybook character that hopped out of a book. But you’re real too, so don’t have an existential crisis, okay?” And then suddenly a huge wave of bile seemed to blast up from the back of my throat and my head spun as something tried to lash out against my head.

It happened in just a brief second. Just a second was all it took for me to lose my composure.

“Wait. So what did they see, exactly? In this, book thing?”

Pie… looked visibly uncomfortable. “Ah... technically, all the main characters are ponies....”

“They saw the one visit to ponyville gilda, but with me here... well the main reason why some of them get upset with you is because you yelled at me, which is stupid, I mean I was in your way and everything.” Oh fuck no. Nononono. No. No. No.

The world did NOT see one of my biggest failures in life. I refuse to believe that. No way. No how. Just no. No. No. No. A thousand times no. Nonono. God no. NO!

Pie. “Shy? Just...Nevermind, that works.”

No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. I said something. “...” I turned away. “Let’s keep going.” I was surprised anyone could hear me.

“...a lot of them assumed you were, um... had a thing for Dash.” No. No. No. It wasn’t a thing. We were together, and then we weren’t, and nothing really changed. I didn’t understand what happened. Nono. No. I didn’t. No. No. No. Just no. Please no. Stop. Stop.

“Drop it.”

“...hey, they redeemed Nightmare Moon, you... probably... I’m making this worse, aren’t I.” No. I was not just compared to a genocidal lunatic tyrant. I was not just called a lesbian. No. No.

Please. Make it stop. Nono. No. NO!

No.

I was shoved in front of a door and I frantically tried to pull myself back together.

“For the record I fucking loved that episode and how you acted in it. Aside from the yelling at Shy thing.” … Ginny.

After awhile, I knocked on the door. Out came some weirdo who looking like he had been kicked in the face. He was wearing a shirt that said PAPA. That was that anti pony group, right?

“...and this is the part where we run!” Coward. Fucking Pie. Of course, she didn’t have anything to prove, did she? She didn’t have one of the worst moments of her entire life broadcasted to millions. No. She didn’t. Maybe she should just run the fuck away like a pony. Fucking ponies. I can see why griffons used to eat them. Useless. Useless.

I’m so useless.

“I’m a griffon. Fuck off.” I said it more to myself than to the person in front of me.

The man looked confused. “Yew... yer not ah pony?”

“Give me your candy and I will make sure no pony comes to your door. Fair deal?” WHAT THE FUCKING HELL?! SHATTER THE FUCKING EGGS. SHATTER THEM ALL. I WAS REALLY IN A WORLD THAT SAW FIT TO KNOW MY WEAKEST MOMENT?

Then he gave me candy. “Shoot, sounds good nuff fer me, yew griffuns ain’t bad as dem ponies.”

Gilda. Calm the hell down.

I didn’t care whether I said that or if Cale said that. I… I don’t recall what happened. I took the candy and then I was back to the group. It suddenly occured to me that I hated this group. Hated them. Always had. Just wanted to tear them limb from limb to try to stop the pain.

Oh… Dash. We were close and then I said something wrong. Then we were friends. I didn’t understand anymore than you did and all I can say is I’m sorry.

But I didn’t see you again, did I?

I’m so useless.

“There we go.”

“Go back to sleep.”

Useless.

Make it stop.

I think.

Can't.

Breath.

No.

The moon is so bright sometimes I think I can see my soul in it. Sometimes I don't have one.

Re: Heterodynamic
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Re: Heterodynamic

A long time ago, there was a boy. He was a lonely sort of boy, always thinking and always with something in his hands, fiddling with it.

Sometimes, he broke it. It didn't matter. He didn't have anyone to play with anyway.

A long time ago, there was a girl. She was a lonely sort of girl, always racing around, trying to get to the bottom of things or to be on top of things.

Sometimes, she made it. It didn't matter. She was never good enough for anyone anyway.

They were never good enough for anyone anyway.

A long time ago, there was a boy all alone. He was sitting under a tree with a cold wind in the air. He shivered without a care, knowing that nobody would look for him. He wondered what it would feel like to just let go.

Someone found him, and they became fast friends.

A long time ago, there was a girl all alone. She was perched by herself with a sky full of know. She shivered without a care, knowing she had hours before anyone noticed she was gone. She wondered what it would feel like to just let go.

Someone found her, a blur of blue in a sky of grey, and they became fast friends.

A long time ago, there was a boy/girl all alone. S/he was in her/his house/cave, wondering about life. He/she was never good enough for anyone. One took up a knife.

The other took to flying, to dull the pain of life.

A long time ago, there were two friends. One needed the other far more than the other needed him/her.

Then the one left.

A long time ago, there were two parents who cared entirely too much for someone. Their offspring was never what they wanted them to be, and disappointments at their best.

He/she was always distant. Always aloof and looking to leave.

After a while, it stopped hurting to just give up on ever reaching them.

A long time ago, there was a question given.

Did he ever give you his last name? Did he ever tell you the truth about who he was?

Was his story ever even worth reading?

Did you even know her story? Did you judge without knowing? How can someone be so cruel to someone so similar?

A long time ago, there was a choice made.

He refused to give in, and lived like an empty shell.

She gave in, and lived like an empty shell.

So similar.

Too different.

...~~useless~~

Sometimes, the moon is so bright I can see my soul in it. Sometimes, we don't have one.

"You are such a flip flop! Cool one minute, and lame the next." I shouted at her, indignation filling me so thoroughly it seemed like I was on fire! How dare she turn me away? HOW DARE SHE?!

But she did, and she calmly narrowed her eyes and I felt like something was breaking in me when it hit me that it was my turn to walk back into the shadows again.

And I didn't know how to feel about that honestly. There was this curious feeling, like my heart was brewing up some vile bile. I spit it out. "When you decide to be cool again, you know who to call." And then I walked out.

Then paused. I paused as soon as I was out of sight and listened. There were a few murmurs of concern and I remained still, listening, desperately wanting to take it all back.

Then I heard that pink menace let out a cheer.

Then.

Then they were celebrating.

They were celebrating. They were already celebrating, seconds after I had left.

There was only one real excuse. This was a set up from the very beginning. This was no party for me! Just as I had thought, this was just a gesture to get me to go.

Dash was never my friend in the first place.

And it burned at me, and it ached at me. Seconds after I had left, they were celebrating like nothing had happened, or rather, they were celebrating because I was gone.

These ponies. These ponies were TRYING to get me to go away. They didn't... I had tried to stay around.

My temper is horrible, I was trying so hard to not lash out, but every action against me felt coordinated. Every single action felt like it had been targeted at me.

And here, here was proof! My oldest friend, the one who had always been there when I needed someone, gone. Forever. Normally, this would destroy me, like an egg shattering against the ground, but now? Now!? I was just angry.

So... angry.

My one and oldest true friend.

"Go on." I paused, trying to blink the tears out of my eyes before I turned to look at whoever was talking.

"Nobody wants you here, anyway." I knew this guy. He was one of my old friends. Jack, I think. He had a mop of brown hair, and a red shirt, and a sharp tongue.

I glared at him, knowing that my face was reeking with what I had been doing.

"I'm honestly pretty sure that the only reason anyone even invited a loser like you here is because they pitied you."

The words stung like I had thrown my fist through a mirror. "Pffft. As if."

My temper was always an issue. I just couldn't believe I had... done that.

"Really. I'm pretty sure that Mark only invited you because he wanted to see if you were still cool." He chuckled. "Nice little thing you shouted there. Do you really think you're ever going to be forgotten for that?" Jack took a step closer to me.

I took a step back. "Coming here was a mistake."

"Got that right, little baby." He taunted me. I remembered him now. He was always jealous. "I bet he'll never forget what you did."

I shouldn't have come for a visit.

"Now go on, get the hell out of here."

And I did.

My one and oldest true friend.

And we did.

Like knife scars dappling skin as white as snow, and as pure as ash.