Equestria Noir
“Wild Birds”
By DarkSkyz
Perspective: Grimwing
I sat at my desk, leaning back on the chair. A glass of scotch sat on the mahogany wood, alongside a picture of my family and I back in the old country. By Celestia, it has been so long since I have seen them. Since I have seen the Kingdoms at all, in fact. It may have been tough at times, but I do miss home. But, we all must leave the nest at some point. Never thought the flight would carry me here though…
_________________________________________________________________________________________
32 years prior
“Are you sure you want to go?” my mother asked me as I boarded the train.
“I’ve already got the ticket now, I can’t turn back!” I chuckled.
She looked at me with sad eyes and I realised this wasn’t a time for joking. “Don’t you worry about me,” I said. “I’ll be fine.”
“You’re 16! You’re too young to be leaving!” she argued.
“He’ll be fine,” my father reassured. He looked at me with those wise eyes of his. “Good luck out there son.”
“All aboard!” yelled the conductor. I ducked inside the door and found my way to an empty compartment. I looked out the window to see my family waving at me. I waved back, smiling at them. The smile faltered as the train began to pull away from the station. From the Kingdoms. From my family. From my former life. I looked back sadly at the tall mountains. Even with the hardships and suffering that we were made go through in the Kingdoms, it was still my home. I shook my head, trying to get the thoughts away. Those things were gone now. I was gonna have a better life in Equestria, away from the hardships of the Kingdoms. I put my head down on the seat and closed my eyes, drifting off to sleep.
The high pitched noise of the train whistle awoke me from my slumber. I looked outside at the train station. I was here. I got off the train and looked at the sign above the exit. All I could make out was the name of the place, Bitallia. The rest was gibberish. I walked outside and looked around, ponies were going about doing their daily business. All were dressed finely, the women in silk dresses and the men in suits. So this was the place that dad picked out for me. Seemed pretty good. And this was the cheapest place we could find? I called for a taxi and threw my suitcases in the trunk. I clambered into the back and showed him the address written on my piece of paper. Dad said there were a lot of griffons around that area. The driver’s face seemed to fall a bit when he read the paper. This wasn’t a good sign. He drove off and after a bit I noticed that the people on the street seemed to me getting less and less well off looking. Eventually, we crossed over a train track and the driver locked his doors. This definitely wasn’t a good sign.
After another 15 minutes the driver pulled up at an apartment block. He quickly unlocked the doors and I got out. Not a moment after I had closed the trunk after taking out my suitcases the driver sped off. I looked around. It was dark and dingy. The buildings looked like they hadn’t been painted since they were built. My apartment block looked like one of the worst. I shuffled up to the door and looked again at the piece of paper. Apartment 206. I walked in the door and went up to the reception. The guy behind the counter was fixed on reading his newspaper. He didn’t notice me till I rapped on the wooden counter.
“Yeah, whatta you want?” he said in a weird accent. He was speaking my language, but didn’t sound like a native.
“I need a key for Apartment 206,” I said, trying to sound friendly.
“Name?”
“Grimwing.”
“You’re the guy who called a few days ago.”
“Actually that was my fa-”
“I really don’t give a shit kid,” he said gruffly, cutting me off. He put the paper down. He was a griffon too. He bent over to a shelf and took a key. “Rent’s 50 bits a month, a guy will come to your door looking for it on the first of each month. Now leave me in peace.” He threw me the key and went back to reading his newspaper.
“Dickhead,” I muttered under my breath as I walked off. The lift was out of order, no surprise there. I walked up the stairs to the second floor. After two minutes of searching, I found my room. I took out the key and put it in the lock. It wouldn’t open. I tried again and still it wouldn’t open. I was about to go down to the reception when I heard a voice behind me.
“Pull the door knob as you’re putting the key in, then twist and push.”
I looked behind me to see a black griffon with a white head smiling at me. I did as he said and the door opened.
“Thanks,” I said, looking at him. He seemed to be studying me for some reason. His concentrated expression faded and the smile came back.
“The name’s Seth,” he said cheerfully. “And you are?”
“Grimwing,” I answered. “Just arrived from the Kingdoms today.”
“Ah, fresh meat off the boat, huh?” he chuckled. His face became serious then. “Why’d you decide to pick here, of all places?
“Equestria seemed like a nice place,” I answered.
“Not here,” he said shaking his head. “I mean Bitallia. Why, of all the cities in Equestria, would you come here?
“We didn’t have a lot of money back home, so this was the cheapest place.” I looked around the hall. “I can see why it is,” I grimaced.
“Yeah, welcome to the Griff Blocks,” said Seth. “Stick with me kid, you’ll be okay.”
“Why do they call it that?” I asked.
“It’s where all the griffons live. Except the rich ones, but they’re really few in number,” answered Seth. “Come on then, put your bags in your room, and I’ll introduce you to the gang.”
I walked into the apartment and quickly jumped back. I could here Seth laughing and saying something about the smell of the place. I threw my bags into the bedroom. Well, by bedroom I mean a room with a horrific looking mattress and a wardrobe. I walked out to see a giggling Seth.
“Enjoying the smell?” he snickered.
“Oh, it’s a rather divine aroma!” I replied, putting on my poshest accent.
“It’s the same in every room, you’ll get used to it after a while,” he explained. “Now come on, let’s get you introduced!”
I followed him down the hallway. This wasn’t so bad, at least I’d have other griffons to talk to. And Seth was pretty nice. Wait a minute…Seth? “Hold up,” I said slowly. Seth turned around to face me, a quizzical expression on his face. “I’ve never heard of any griffon called Seth. That’s not your real name at all, is it?”
He chuckled and looked at me. “You’re a clever egg, aren’t you?” he said. “There’s a reason I keep to just ‘Seth’, a reason I don’t feel like telling you yet. That okay?”
I nodded, and we continued walking. I was cautious of him now, watching his movement. Why couldn’t he tell me his real name? Was he in some serious trouble? Did he not trust me? Was he going to kill me?
“Here we are!” he announced, returning to the happy state that he was in before. He entered a big room and I followed. Inside a group of 6 griffons were sitting at a table, playing cards. They looked up at us as we entered.
“Who’s the new guy?” one of them asked.
“This is Grimwing,” replied Seth. “Grimwing, let me introduce you to our little group…”
_________________________________________________________________________________________
About 5 hours had passed and I was gathered around the table with the other griffons. I had got to know each of them a bit better. Despite their intimidating looks, they were very friendly. There was Boneclaw, an ex-soldier who had trained the group to be able to fight. He had many a tale of great battles that he fought in against the enemies of the Griffon Kingdoms, and his scars on his dark brown body proved it.
Pennyfeather was the only female of the group. Young, with pretty blue eyes and sandy brown fur, she was the daughter of her old town’s baker, so she knew how to cook for the boys. She was also very handy at smashing things with a rolling pin, particularly the rats that inhabited this place.
Sharptooth was the brain box of the group, a very good strategist who had escaped from prison and fled to Equestria with another member of the group, Saberhusk. Saberhusk was very handy with a knife…his tale of how he ended up in prison was disturbing to stay the least. Both of them were almost identical, with golden fur and very big beaks. The only way you could tell them apart was that Sharptooth wore glasses and had green eyes, while Saberhusk’s eyes were as golden as his fur.
Ravenspear was next, a brilliant engineer who had basically re-wired the entire circuit for this floor. His messy brown fur stuck out in several places. He said it’s stayed like that ever since he electrocuted himself a few years back.
Then there was Grafton. He was a very shy golden griffon, whose head unlike the others was brown instead of white. He didn’t say much at first, but once I got to know him a bit he was very friendly.
Lastly, there was Seth. He was the leader of this group, a very cheerful and funny griffon. There was something about him though, something off. Why couldn’t he tell me his name?
“Royal flush, bitches!” cried a very drunk Grafton, slamming his cards on the table. His demeanour had very quickly changed once he had a few ciders in him.
“Grafton, you have a 2 and a 3,” pointed out Pennyfeather.
“Oh,” he mumbled, analysing his cards for about half a minute. “So I do!” he proclaimed. “Penny, what’s a royal flush again?” Everygriffon siged and I drained the rest of my cider from my mug.
“I’d best be off then,” I said, rising from my stool.
“It’s a bit early, don’tcha think?” said Seth.
“Seth, it’s 2 in the morning,” I replied.
“Still, it’s not like you’re doing anything tomorrow…” he trailed off.
“I’ve got to find a job,” I said. “Someone’s gotta pay my rent.”
“And you can speak the local language?” he quipped back. Damn, he had me there. “Don’t you worry, Grim boy!” he chuckled. “We can have you almost fluent within a month!”
“A month? What are you, a language course?” I retorted.
“Hence the ‘almost’ fluent part,” stressed Seth.
“Well…fine, I’ll take you up on you’re offer,” I told him. “But I’m still going to get some shut eye. The train didn’t make for a good sleep, and I’m tired.”
“Take this lump with you!” Pennyfeather laughed, picking up Grafton. “Room 209, it’s open.” She gently laid Grafton on my shoulder and I slung his wing around my neck for support. We walked down the hallway and suddenly he threw his talons up in the air.
“Sweet Caroline! WOAH OH OHHH! Good times, never seemed so good…” he sang drunkenly. I shook my head at him and laughed. Finally, we arrived at his room and I opened the door.
“Now Grafton, you go into bed and you don’t come out until morning, got it?” I said naggingly. My response was very loud snoring. “Oh, give me strength,” I sighed. I put him to bed and walked up to my door, unlocking it like Seth told me. I went into the bedroom and threw my suitcases in the wardrobe, I’d unpack them tomorrow. I flopped on to the mattress and was happy to find that the cider seemed to mask the smell a bit. I smiled, realising I may have found something good here. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep…
6 months had passed since I had moved to Bitallia. Life was okay, the day was a slog working at Subneigh, and the night usually consisted of the 8 of us griffons playing cards, watching TV, getting drunk, or on the occasion all three. Seth was partly right on the language thing. I had enough Bitallian within a month to be able to take orders from customers, so Seth was able to get me a job at Subneigh. At the moment my Bitallian was still broken, but I was getting better. It turns out in Equestria, some places, like Bitallia, have their own language. The majority though, speak Ponish, which I had grasped the basics of.
It was a lovely, bright and sunny afternoon. The summer had started, so it was nice and warm outside. Normally, I’d be rejoicing, considering the harsh, icy conditions of the Kingdoms, but the sun seemed to make the restaurant boil. Everyone was roasting in the heat of the building, except our manager, Francesco, who was skiving off in the freezer. We had a few managers, but he was by far the worst. I hated when he was on the same shift as I was. Like most ponies, he was very racist towards griffons and would usually be breathing down my neck making sure I wasn’t going to steal money out of the register. Today though, he was just trying to keep cool.
“By Celestia, I wish we had air conditioning in here,” complained my co-worker Mario, fanning himself with a menu.
“I know what you mean,” I replied. “And all summer, this will be.”
“Oh, I don’t think I’ll be able to take it!” he cried. Mario was a little more overweight than the average pony, so that probably didn’t help. I laughed a bit, he was always one for overreacting. I grabbed a customer’s food from the back and put it in a bag.
“That is 3 bits, sir,” I told the customer. He handed me the money and took his bag. He walked out the door, to eat outside. I wouldn’t blame him, I can’t stand another minute in this stifling place. Suddenly, I could here strange accents coming from outside. They were very loud and obnoxious. They weren’t Bitallian, but they didn’t sound like they were from the Griffon Kingdoms either. I looked over at Mario to see if he knew, and the shocked expression on his face told me he did.
“Grimwing, can you speak Ponish?” he breathed.
“A bit, not very good, why?” I replied.
“Tourist season is starting,” he whispered. Wait, that’s what he was worried about? Tourists? What was so bad about-
Suddenly the door burst open, and a rather round earth pony trotted in with his family. A few other big families followed. I had never seen the likes of them before. Foals were running around them, screaming, and they hadn’t the slightest care in the world. Why were they not disciplining them?
“Ay, you!” the round pony said, pointing a hoof at me. I tried my best to remember the Ponish that Seth had taught me.
“Yes, sir?” I asked. Please don’t speak fast, please don’t speak fast!
“Give us some-” What came out of his mouth next was a big, long list of items, said so fast that I couldn’t understand in the slightest. I started sweating more, trying to decipher what exactly this pony was saying.
“Sorry, sir…not good Ponish,” I said slowly.
“What do you mean?” he asked, his face getting a bit red and his eyebrows furrowing.
“My Ponish…not good. Can speak, very slow?” I asked, hoping he’d understand. I looked over to Mario for help but he looked like he had enough on his plate with another customer.
“Are you retarded or something?” the pony asked angrily, slamming his hoof on the counter to get my attention. I didn’t know what the word in the middle meant, but I could only assume it was bad. Suddenly Francesco appeared at my side. He had a conversation with the customer in Ponish, trying to calm him down. I couldn’t understand much of what they were saying, although I’m pretty sure I heard the customer say “dumb griffon” a few times. Finally, Francesco turned to me.
“Why aren’t you taking this stallion’s order?” he asked, clearly angry.
“You know can’t speak good Ponish, can barely speak good Bitallian as is!” I argued.
“You will take this customer’s order, or you’ll be out of a job,” he replied, smiling. “Do you hear me, griffon?”
“Yes sir,” I said, gritting my teeth. He knew I couldn’t speak Ponish! This is all just so he can fire me. Oh, I hate his smug face so much…
“Sir,” I said, turning back to the pony. “Can order again, slow?” Oh please don’t yell, please don’t yell. The pony looked me dead in the eye and sighed.
“Two…Large subs…with…tomato and cheese…” he said, clearly getting frustrated. I understood and wrote it down. “Two…Small subs…with…cheese and hay…” I could understand this! I wrote it down under his last order. “And finally…side order of…” What came out of his mouth next I didn’t catch.
“Sorry, sir…say again?” I asked.
“You stupid griffon!” he roared, slamming his hoof on the counter again. “Onion rings! How damn hard is it to get onion rings!” Suddenly, he got up on his hind legs, reached across the counter and pushed me with his forelegs. Who did he think he was?
“Oh, you’re gonna regret that…” I whispered to myself. I leapt over the counter and landed on him, bringing him to the floor. Then, I started punching him in all the spots that Boneclaw had showed me would hurt the most. His training was finally paying off. Soon though, I was pulled off by a bunch of other ponies in line. I looked at the counter and saw Mario smiling. At least somepony thought I’d done something right. Francesco came storming out to find out what the commotion was about. His eyes bulged at me when he saw what I’d done.
“Get out!” he roared. “And don’t ever come back!” I got up and strolled out. I looked through the window and saw Francesco helping that asshole up.
“I hope he sues this store for everything it’s worth,” I said bitterly.
_________________________________________________________________________________________
“Well, I’ll give it to ya Grim, for all the reasons of getting fired, that’s a hell of a way to do it,” said Seth. He, Boneclaw, Saberhusk and I were sitting on some wooden chairs in my living room. I had just finished telling me them the story, and by the looks they were giving me, they seemed impressed.
“Yeah, talk about going out with a bang,” chuckled Saberhusk. “Pity about the whole losing all your job thing though.”
“Eh, I’ll find another,” I replied. I was a bit sad really, the job had good enough hours and I really wanted to keep it. Still, I won’t let scumbags like that customer treat me like that.
“Not without any Ponish you won’t,” said Seth. “Tourist season lasts for the next three months. No matter what job you’re doing, you’re just gonna be swarmed with Manehatteners like them.”
“Fair point,” I acknowledged. “Well, you could teach me some more.”
“I’m afraid with the way they speak, you’re gonna need more than three months to understand their lingo,” said Seth. I sighed in defeat. I’d think of something eventually but for now, I was stuck.
“The…foals…” I said slowly, remembering their antics. “The parents gave them free reign. They didn’t care about what they were doing. Why?”
“It’s not like the Kingdoms here I’m afraid,” said Seth. “Foals are let do whatever they want. You beat one and you’d be thrown in prison.” What sort of place was this? The young needed to be beaten to teach them discipline.
“I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve had enough of talking about tourists for one day,” spoke up Boneclaw. “You wanna grab a cider?”
“Sure, I’ll go down to the freezer room,” said Saberhusk. He stood up from his chair and went to walk out the door.
“Why don’t we go out for one night?” I offered. The three of them looked at me as if I’d grown another head. “I mean, in all my six months here, we’ve never gone to a pub or anything.”
“Wait, you didn’t know?” said a shocked looking Seth.
“Didn’t know?” I asked, confused. “What do you mean, didn’t know?”
“Griffons aren’t allowed in pubs,” spoke up Saberhusk. “Have you seriously not seen the signs? No dogs, no griffons.”
“What?!” I exclaimed in shock. “Why aren’t we allowed in?”
“They think we’re there to cause trouble,” answered Boneclaw. “Ponies ain’t very accepting folk, as you’ve seen from today.”
“Hell, they even won’t allow each other in sometimes,” laughed Saberhusk. “You should see the signs up in Trottingham. No dogs, no griffs, no Shirish.” The trio burst into laughter, but my face remained hard.
“We haven’t done anything to them, and this is how we’re treated?” I asked, baffled. These ponies surprise me more and more every minute. “Even more, you accept this as if it was normal!”
“It’s not gonna change Grim,” said Seth sternly. His expression then softened. “You’ll get used to it after a while.” There was an awkward silence for a few moments before Saberhusk stepped back.
“Well, I’ll just go and grab those ciders then,” he said, walking out of the room. Now I know why we had a freezer room. We couldn’t go anywhere. We just stocked up on crates of cider. What kind of life was this?
“Don’t sit there all glum, Grimwing,” said Boneclaw. “Come on, there’s a game on TV tonight, that’ll be good.” My grunt was a good enough response for him to go over to my television and turn it on. Two sports analysts came up on the screen, talking about the line-ups. I didn’t really care. My mind was fixed on other matters right now. Look at me! Seventeen years old and already it looked like my life was planned out. Wake, work, get drunk, sleep. Rinse and repeat. This wasn’t a life! Griffons weren’t animals! We didn’t deserve to be treated like th-
A roaring blast erupted outside, ripping me away from my thoughts. “What the hell was that?” I asked. I looked around; Seth’s face was frozen in fear, while Boneclaw looked ready to kill.
“I thought they were gone…” whispered Seth, looking a bit less frightened now, and more like Boneclaw. I looked out the window and saw a carriage on fire, and there were a few figures surrounding it. I squinted, trying to make out the figures in the illumination of the fire. Were they…ponies?
“Take this, and remember everything I’ve taught you,” said Boneclaw, popping up behind me and shoving a bread knife into my right talon. I gripped it and he darted off. What exactly was going on? Why was the car blown up?
“Grimwing, move your ass to the bottom floor!” shouted Seth, grabbing a knife of his own from the drawer. He ran out the door and I followed.
The floor was full of griffons rushing, most coming down from the upper floors, but I spotted a few mothers and their children going to the upper floors, presumably to hide. I felt my talon being pulled on and looked to see Seth dragging me down the stairs. We reached the ground floor and saw griffons, many armed with weapons, some unarmed, running out the door into the street. The griffon at the front desk was currently aiming a shotgun at the door, in case the attackers would come through.
“Seth, what happened? Who blew up the car?” I asked him frantically.
“A gang from a few streets away, they call themselves the Graiders. I’ll tell you more after, but we gotta help! Now go!” he yelled at me, pushing me out the front door.
The street was in chaos. Griffons and ponies were fighting around the burning carriage. Although we had more numbers, the ponies seemed to have better weaponry, and the griffons were being pushed back. I heard a gunshot ring out and a griffon fell to the ground a few metres away from me. I looked to the right to see Seth was by my side.
“Can’t we call the police?” I pleaded. “The fire brigade at least?”
“They won’t help us!” shouted Seth. “They don’t care! We’re on our own.” Two more gunshots were fired, one barely missing us.
“Scatter!” roared Boneclaw, a few metres to my left. The griffons ran in every direction, allowing the Graiders to chase down individual targets. I could here them laughing as they did. Did they think this was a game? Did they find this as sport? My blood boiled, and I charged at a nearby unicorn whose back was turned to me. He was about to fire a spell at a griffon, but my knife came down on his head before he had the chance. He went limp, and I looked around for the rest of the ponies. They were regrouping back on the road, but gunfire blocked me from getting to them. Some began to charge, while others remained on the road.The ponies who stayed on the road fired guns and spells at us, while the rest attacked us with knives and their bare hooves. In the distance I could hear a soft, trundling sound. It seemed to be getting louder, it was drawing nearer.. It must have been a carriage. Were the Graiders bringing backup? My question was answered when the carriage shot around the corner. Only it wasn’t stopping for the ponies on the road. It was going straight for them! The carriage smashed into the ponies, crushing some and sending others flying. The griffons cheered at the sight of this, and pushed forwards. The ponies left on the grass realised that their support was gone, and seeing the large amount of griffons heading for them, ran down the street. I was about to go after them, when Seth tugged on my shoulder.
“Let them go,” he said quietly. “We have to take care of the mess here.” I looked around. Seth was right. As much as I wanted to chase after those ponies, the destruction around us needed to be cleaned up. The mothers and children, hearing that the fighting had stopped, had started to come out of the building. I walked over to the carriage on the road, now broken from the impact of the ponies hitting against it. I walked up to the harness, and a bloodied Sharptooth looked up at me.
“Sorry I was a bit late,” he chuckled. I unhooked him from the harness and pulled him away from the wreckage. Pennyfeather and Grafton came running over to us to help. Pennyfeather had been slashed with a knife across her right leg, while Grafton was untouched. I suppose he hid.
“We’ll take it from here, Grim,” assured Pennyfeather. “Come on then, Grafton.” The two slung one of Sharptooth’s talons around each of their necks and carried him off. I walked on to the grass and saw male and female griffons lying on the ground. Most were surrounded by their families. Many were injured. Some were dead. I passed a family grieving over their deceased mother, who had taken the first gunshot. What kind of monsters would do this to innocents, who just want to live in peace? I felt a talon wrap around my neck and looked up to see Boneclaw, a sad expression on his face.
“If you’re wondering why I gave you and the rest of the group combat training, this is why,” he explained. “Like Seth said back in your apartment, we’d thought they were gone. They hadn’t attacked in eight months. Last time we hit them pretty hard, so we thought they’d just stopped trying to kill us…” He looked around at the devastation. “Looks like they were just arming themselves. We’ve never seen them use guns before, didn’t even know that they had them.”
“But we have guns too,” I pointed out.
“You mean the one that Carmine at the front desk has?” he asked. I nodded. “That’s our only one. He only has one box of shells for it too. It’s really only meant for fighting against one or two thieves, not a full gang of armed thugs.”
“If you’ve never seen them use guns before…” I said slowly. “Then they’re stepping up. They’re going to kill us all unless we arm up too.”
“We don’t have any guns though, Grimwing!” he pointed out.
“They got their guns from somewhere. Is there any underground gun shops around here?” I asked. Boneclaw looked around.
“Not that I know of, but I’ll try and find out,” he said. He took his talon off my neck and walked off. I looked around to see where my friends were. Ravenspear had gone into town to get some more crates of cider, so he’d missed the attack. Pennyfeather and Grafton were cleaning up Sharptooth. Seth was tending to the injured. As for Saberhusk…he was staring intensely down the road in which the ponies fled. It was best that I left him alone.
All this pain. All this death. What for? Because we were different? I was sick of being treated like shit. I walked up to the bombed carriage, which had long burnt out now. I climbed on top of it, and turned to the griffons. A few raised their heads to look up to me. Somegriffon needed to stand up and tell them.
“Is this what it’s going to come to?” I shouted at them. The talking stopped, and the wailing turned into sobs. Everygriffon turned their attention to me, wondering what I was talking about. “Is this how it’s going to end?” I shouted at the crowd. “Are we just going to let those hellspawn do this until they drive us out or we die?” All ears were listening now. “They will not stop, until each and every one of you is gone. They will show no remorse. We have seen this tonight. And we will see it again, unless we do something about it!” I could hear murmurs of agreement within the crowd. “And do something about it, we will. We need real weaponry. Guns, like they used tonight. We will show them the true might of the griffons, one that is a force to be reckoned with!” I heard a few cheers from the crowd. “Those ponies must know that this block belongs to the griffons. And it will stay that way! We will show them this! This is our home! And we are not leaving! Are you with me?!” The crowd erupted in a mighty roar, one that the griffons often used in time of war. I climbed down from the car and was greeted by Saberhusk.
“A very nice speech there, Grim boy,” he said. “But do you actually think that we can do it?”
“The griffon spirit is a wondrous thing,” I replied. “Besides, if they can get guns, so can we.”
“That’s the thing, Grim, we’re not an army,” he pointed out. “Our people aren’t disposable, they aren’t soldiers either.”
“Won’t Boneclaw train them to shoot?” I asked.
“Do you not get what I’m saying?” he shouted, grabbing my chest. “These are normal, everyday people. Fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, daughters, sons. They are not meant for combat! They are families, not soldiers!”
“I know Saber…but what choice do we have,” I said sadly. Saberhusk looked at the ground, his brow furrowed. Finally he looked at me again.
“I guess you’re right…but these are families, not battle hardened soldiers. We don’t even know how many ponies are in the Graiders anyway!” he argued.
“We’ll find out Saber, trust me,” I replied. “We’ll be okay.”
“For your sake, I hope you’re right,” he grumbled. He walked over to Sharptooth, who was sitting against the wall of the block.
“I hope I’m right too, Saber,” I said to myself, walking through the grass to find Seth. I needed to find out more about the Graiders, and he seemed to know.
