Griffon Wings

In Equestria, any creature with wings would tell that flying at night is a bad idea. Limited visibility and waning judgments made night flying a very bad idea. …Though, despite what most every pegasus told him, White Mercury still needed to get home early tonight. He flew high above the clouds, hoping that the full moon’s light and his miniscule size would work to his benefit. After such a long week of work, the currier just wanted to go home and sleep for an entire day. ...And, with his record, he probably could. The pegasus dipped under a large cloud, adjusting the rainbow colored scarf he had tied around his neck. Cities like this got cold at night. He looked around, expecting the shimmer of his silver feathers to illuminate the clouds around. …But, he immediately knew something was wrong when they didn’t.

A large shadow loomed over him.

That cloud wasn’t that large. He should have been one of very few flying at this time of night, so, what was it casting a shadow over him? He looked just in time for something to slam into him! He went down hard, happily hitting a cloud before hitting the ground. “No, wait!” he pleaded, trying to protect his face. Looking up, he found an interestingly rare sight.

A large, angry griffon loomed over him. Her feathers faded to purple atop her head and the pale purple markings around her eyes only served to accentuate their bright yellow hue. She had a fist raised and the other set of talons wrapped around his foreleg, holding him down. “No time for your old friends, huh?” she asked with a very distinctive slur, “I’ll show you, stupid flip flop!!”

Mercury was glad that only his black mane was caught by the griffon’s strike. He didn’t have to move much to avoid her fists. Reacting quickly, he grabbed her arm, making sure she couldn’t attack him again. He opened his mouth to speak to the griffon, but hesitated. “…This isn’t about me, is it?”

The griffon’s expression changed from rage to flustered annoyance. Slowly, she deflated, seeming to lose her train of thought instead of continuing her tirade.

He let her arm go, hoping she’d come to her senses and go away instead of keeping her spot over him. “Uh, you know, if you’re having problems, then I could help,” he suggested.

The griffon turned her yellow eyes back to him and almost immediately adopted her glare again. “What do you know?!” she snarled, making him flinch. She snatched his scarf, pulling it from around his neck. “And why are you wearing a stupid rainbow colored scarf?!”

He shrank away from her, sinking into the plush cloud. He’d never had anyone—griffon or pony—so angry with him. “I-if you’re really that angry, then maybe I can help.” He squirmed a little, trying to give her a good view of his flanks. “My, uh, special talent is actually mending broken hearts! If you give me a chance, I’m sure it’ll do some good.”

The griffon stared at him. She was utterly confused now. She slowly backed away, letting the small pegasus up. “N-no,” she muttered, shaking her head, “I’m not… I don’t have a broken heart!” She tried to regain her hardened tone, but his inviting smile only served to deflate her distain more and more.

The pegasus closed the gap she tried to make. “Come on!” he chimed, “I’ve helped other ponies before. I’m sure you can’t surprise me that much!”

The griffon’s eyes shifted, darting around as if looking for any pony nearby to tell of her confiding in this young pony. After a moment, tears welled in her eyes and she practically crushed the white pegasus with a tight hug. “Why doesn’t she want to be my friend anymore?!” she wailed, “I-I didn’t do anything wrong! And she goes and ditches me f-for some stupid pink pony and a big dumb wuss!!”

Pressed against her coarse feathers, he could easily confirm it: she’d been drinking very hard. “Okay, but first, we have to get you to bed so you can sleep off your hangover…”

“B-but…” she stammered, but hesitated when the pegasus used his silver pinions to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

“Don’t worry,” he requested, “Everything will be just fine.” He gently pried himself away from the griffon’s breast. “I’ve got a spare room you can use. I’ll take care of everything.”

The griffon tried to debate the thought, but she couldn’t find anything wrong. She let out a heavy sigh. “Alright, let’s go then.” She started toward the edge of the cloud, but stumbled, nearly falling off the edge! Luckily, the little pegasus was there to keep her from falling.

“Uh, maybe we should go to the ground first…” He helped the griffon to the ground, compensating for her alcohol induced coordination—or lack thereof. He leaned against her, helping her to stay on her feet. Something told him he’d bitten off more than he could chew.

Gilda couldn’t remember a night that she’d slept more soundly. She woke with a well deserved hangover and a blurred memory of most of the night before, but she had to admit, she’d actually slept quite well. Opening her large yellow eyes, she found a soft pillow under her head and a warm blanket wrapped around her. This didn’t even seem like any hotel room she’d been in. Where was she? Why were her eyes so crusty? And what was moving under her? She squirmed around and spotted an odd sight.

A pegasus was curled up in the bed with her! His black mane was short and shaggy, but his white coat was perfectly pristine. He seemed smaller than most Pegasi, but his demure size probably added to his speed.

Gilda couldn’t recognize him. She barely remembered the rainbow colored scarf still wrapped around his neck, but the silver pinions of his wings brought back some vague images. …But, then she started thinking harder about the situation. She was in a house she didn’t know, practically cuddling with a little pegasus and she felt worse about herself than the week she’d reserved to visit her multicolored friend in Ponyville. “Oh no,” she groaned, “Please tell me we didn’t…”

That was more than enough to awaken the white pegasus. As a matter of fact, he was so startled from the sudden snarl of anger, he fell out of bed. “Ow!” He jumped up, rubbing the new bump on his head. He looked up at the clearly peeved griffon. “Oh, hey, you’re awake,” he said needlessly.

“Answer me, small fry,” she growled, “Did we do anything last night?” She could remember going to the bar clearly, but her memory got fuzzy somewhere around drink number twelve.

“No,” he chuckled, raising a brow, “What? Do you think that all stallions are low lives? Please!” He turned his back theatrically. “Some of us have some dignity!” He paused. “But, you did cry a lot about that Rainbow Dash and you asked me to give you some company.” He gave her a smug grin. “You passed out before the first kiss…”

Not a word escaped her, but her yellow eyes blazed with a fiery death glare that would make a Manticore loose its bowels.

Regardless, the pegasus kept his cool. “Oh, calm down,” he chided, “You were really freaking out about something last night. You almost pummeled me because of my scarf!” He slipped the multicolored scarf off. Based on its colors and, if this was the same Rainbow Dash he’d read about in Cloudsdale, then she probably mistook him for her. “You were yelling about her being a flip flop or something…” He shook his head, bringing the fluff back to his mane. “If it’s the same Rainbow Dash that lives in Ponyville, then I don’t know what you were so mad about. She’s pretty cool to me—ow, ow, ow!!!”

Gilda yanked the pegasus back to reality, pulling on one of his silver feathered wings. “No she’s not!” She jabbed a talon to his nose, nearly giving him a new piercing to his face. “She is totally un-cool!!”

The young pegasus stared at her for a moment before gently lowering her hand. “I-I can understand why you’d hate her so m-much…” He proceeded to pry her talons from around his wing as well. He’d have to preen off the now ragged feathers later. “But, I’ve met her before, and she’s not that bad. She’s loyal to a fault, in fact…” He jumped up, taking flight to avoid the griffon’s fist. “I told you before: my special talent is mending broken hearts and the first step to recovery is facing the prob—well… The first step is admitting that there is a problem—but the second step is facing the problem!” He landed in front of the irate griffon. “Besides, did you ever consider that the problem might not be Rainbow?”

Was he really suggesting that? “What did you say?” she growled. She encroached on the Pegasus’s personal space. “Are you siding with her?!”

He shriveled, but it didn’t last. He let out a short sigh and gave her a hard glare. “As the saying goes, I can only help you if you want to help yourself.” He trotted out the door, letting the griffon follow as he failed to finish his enigmatic statement. He stopped at the front door, opening it wide. “I only wanted to help, but if you don’t want it, you can leave at any time.”

That was new. The pegasus had been so playful and inviting only a moment ago and he made such a drastic change. Gilda hesitated. She didn’t know what to say to that. “I-I didn’t… You just…” She tried to be mad at him again. He’d so randomly snatched her out of the air and practically poured salt into a very fresh wound and he was treating her like the bad guy? Who did he think he was?!

What if he was right?

The single thought quieted her growing anger. All this time, she’d been wondering what Rainbow Dash’s problem was. Why didn’t she want the griffon as a friend anymore? What was her problem? So, what if he was right and it was her fault instead? She deflated, absently sitting on the floor. She barely noticed the sound of the door closing.

The young pegasus nudged his new friend. “I forgive you,” he cooed. He trotted to his room, grabbing a journal bound in a purple cover and balancing it atop his head. “I’ve done this before, so I’ll be documenting all your progress in here. You can read it whenever you want.”

“I still never asked you for help, shrimp,” she grumbled, “And I don’t even know your name!”

“Funny since we’ve already slept together,” he mused, “You know, just without the fun stuff…” He put the book on the table in his living room and spun around to face her. “But, Gilda Gryphon, I guess you’re right about that. Since you’ve lost probably everything we talked about last night, I’ll introduce myself again.” He bowed regally. “I am White Mercury—royal messenger and local relationship councilor.”

That seemed strange. “You’re a royal messenger? Why are you living in Trottingham?” If he worked for royalty, then why wasn’t he living in Canterlot?

“Well, they don’t need me all the time,” he stated, “Besides, my flying habits are weird. I can either fly quick messages or go for a long time. It’s the gift of speed and stamina in one. They usually ask me to come to Canterlot when they have messages to send to the Crystal Empire or to Dragon Territory.” He looked at the clock and his heart nearly stopped. “But, uh, here, I’m a relationship councilor, and I have an appointment to get to!” He shod his hooves in silver and slipped on his saddlebags. “Sorry to run out on you, but I have to go. I’ll be back in about an hour and a half.” He paused. “…Please don’t destroy my house…” With that, he turned and took off, flying to his next appointment.

Gilda couldn’t help but wonder about him. He seemed too nice and his personality seemed to change a little too fast for her liking. Before she shut the door, she couldn’t help but notice it: he never answered her question—not directly at least. She let out a heavy sigh as she sat on the couch and cracked open the book he’d brought her. And to think, she was staying with this crackpot of a pony.