“Ohmuhgosh, you weren’t kidding about zebra food! I can still taste it. It’s like, weirdly delicious.”

“I keep telling ponies, but they see those stripes and ZIP, they’re gone. Being a mule, I kind of know what if feels like to be watched like a hawk wherever I go.”

Jimmy the Mule helped a very distracted Galena weave through the throngs of ponies at the bazaar. To be fair, most kept a wide berth given Galena’s massive size, sharp beak and talons. Every step brought with it not only rubberneckers, but vendor after vendor.

“Almost free!”

“Come, my friend. See my fine selection of hoof-forged shoes.”

“Buddy! Hey, are you and your lovely griffin friend looking to tie the knot? Come on, friend. A girl like that deserves something special.” At least the salesponies didn’t judge.

“No thank you, sir. Hey, Lena could you imagi- … Galena?”

Galena stood enraptured near a pony hocking bicycle parts and rubber tubes. Jimmy hurried over. “Dude, Jimmy check this out! It looks like me.” On the table between them and the peddler sat a miniature, cutesy griffin knickknack. The brass in which it was plated had patina in a little circle around one eye.

Jimmy smirked. “That’s pretty cute. You as a little griffin. What are young griffins called, anyway? Cubs? Chicks? Grifflets?”

“Heh, grifflets. Heh-heh. That sounds like a plumbing tool.”

“Pff, you goof. Pardon me, miss. How much for the little griffin statue?”

Jimmy haggled with the merchant as Galena collected the mini, golden idol of herself. She traced the lines of its tiny face with a talon. Jimmy watched and imagined her thoughts. Reminiscing about her childhood no doubt. The good old days before her life got thrown into the compost pile like everybody else.

Jimmy snatched the figurine from her clutches. “‘This is the second time I’ve had to reclaim my property from you.’”

Galena swiped the figurine back and cracked a cheese-eating grin. She shook it near the side of her face for dramatic effect. “‘It belongs in a museum!’”

“‘So do you!’” They shared a chuckle. “Actually you kind of do live in a museum with all those props you burgled, don’t you?”

“Ha! Yeah. Wh- Hey! I’m keeping them safe so future generations learn the history of the craft. Not my fault most prop departments didn’t use magic ward defenses.”

The couple zigzagged through more crowds searching for a more open area to rest for a bit. Settling on the parched fountain in the middle of the square, they sat down on the edge facing a taffy seller. A foal’s game of hoofball erupted between them and the sweet stand. With the amount of potholes and rocks strewn around, Jimmy was impressed with how well they played.

“So, Lena. What was it like for you growing up? Any siblings?”

Galena surveyed the nooks and crannies of the figurine. “Nah. It was just me and dad. Every day had a new problem to solve. ‘What’s wrong with this motor?’ ‘What can we use as a replacement blade for that fan?’ ‘What’s the best thing to snuff this oil fire with?’” She checked up on the hoofball game with disengaged interest. “Good old dad.”

The tone in her voice flew in the face of the warm, fall sunset, chilling the air between them. Jimmy held up his forehooves in a placating surrender. “I see. I see. Well, what about coming out here to the Acre? You have any stories about that? What was the impetus behind that move?”

She shot a slightly cool smirk at him. “You know? I like you Jimmy, but I don’t think we’re ready for that kind of talk just yet.”

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to open old wounds or any of that. I just want to know about you is all.”

“I realize that, but you need to chill. Let’s go back to talking about who is the best western director. COUGH, Sugaro de Poni, COUGH.”

“I can understand where you’re coming from. It happens so quickly. You get to know somebody but just like that game of hoofball, it has to end some time. And it can end any minute.”

Galena silently studied the figurine even more diligently.

Jimmy bit his lip and took in a slow breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to push you into spilling your secrets. That’s your business and that’s fine. Tell me on your own time, but may I at least share a little about myself? I just want to be as honest and open with you because I don’t want to make another big mistake with my life. May I?”

Galena craned her neck and gave a solemn, sideways nod.

“Okay, here goes.” Jimmy studied the pebbles on the ground, knowing they wouldn’t judge him too harshly. Butterflies danced a jig in his stomach. “I, uh. I was, I mean I am an alcoholic.” The little butterflies bouncing in his stomach vanished at once, gifting him the sensation of free fall.

“For so long it was really the only thing that would help, you know? Lose a friend?” He popped open an invisible bottle. “Down the hatch. Think about the futility of life? Have another. Pretty soon it got to the point that I was pounding ‘em just to remember what it felt like to smile.

“So, almost eleven years ago I was sitting on some mattress springs in some horrible saloon hotel room. No money. No goals. Just felt like dying. Not to kill myself, you understand? I just didn’t want to exist anymore. And so, in that mixed up state I decided to be honest with myself. I asked myself what I was truly afraid of. Was I really weak enough to just let my past steamroll me? Oh, Hell no.

“It took a while. A lot of time spent in the desert, just thinking. Remembering all the bedtime stories I was taught as a colt. You know those children’s stories have more layers of metaphor and truth than you’d think.

“So I thought up some life goals. That was the big one. Guideposts to aim for. With those in minds, and of course with a bunch of help from everyone from my employers to bartenders…” He reached into one of many zippered pockets on his fishing vest beneath his sarape. When he pulled out his hoof a large, bronze chip lay in it.

“Shiny,” Galena remarked, her pupils like dinner plates.

“Yep. I’ve been able to stay this way for over ten years. And it’s all because of you.”

“Because of me? We barely met just a few weeks ago.”

“Yeah, well listen. When you no-showed for our first date, I was devastated. I thought you were stringing me along or maybe you were just using your charm and unholy knowledge of film to get your friends to where they needed to go without resorting to a shootout. But then I thought, ‘you know, maybe she died.’ I lost it. Couldn’t take it. Everything meant nothing again. I was this close to taking a sip and heading right back down that path.” He held her talons and admired her golden eyes. “But then you and the rest of your company walked in. I don’t think I can even put into words what that meant to me.”

Galena stared wistfully at the young hoofballers. “I would poop the nest. I was a nest pooper.”

Jimmy’s eyebrows knitted as he chuckled. He held Galena out at hoof’s length and gawked at her. “Ha! What?”

Galena smashed his head into her chest, forcing him to look away. “Yeah. And it wasn’t just when I was a baby. It followed me long enough for the other cubs my age to call me nest-pooper whenever they saw me.”

“Cubs. So that’s what griffin babies are called.” Jimmy struggled to look Galena in the eyes. “You are so weird.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

“Let’s go get some dessert.”

“Dude, yes! I know it’ll be some weird avocado, kale and carrot combination, but yes.” Her gaze softened. “Thanks for understanding, Jimmy.”

“Anytime, honey.”