//------------------------------//
// Innocence Lost 
// Story: A Griffon Named Gilda 
// by Hodd 
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Golden rays creeped through the window, climbing up Gilda's bedside, and finally reaching up to her face. Her eyes snapped open. "Ugh... Morning... Again..." Mornings had become an even she despised. After the loss of Buck, there was little motivation to get up. Often times she would simply lay there, and stare at nothing.

Gilda groaned as she forced her body out of bed, joints popping in protest. She slowly moped to her door, preparing to repeat a process she knew all too well; wake up, go to school, eat lunch, go to sleep, repeat. Desperation ate away at her conscience.

Gilda found herself once again making the trek to the classroom. Something was different however. She kept receiving the same looks from the evening prior. What is with everypony? All I did was put Fang in his place. Not like it was a big deal or anything.

Before she could mull this over any further, a mare approached her. Gilda cocked her head in apprehension as the pony managed to stumble through a few timid sentences. "Hey, uh, I just wanted to say thanks... you know, for taking care of Fang.    I mean... yeah, thanks." The timid mare scurried off, as if afraid of Gilda's reaction.

Okay? thought Gilda. She was unused to being approached, and before she was able to think through what had just occurred, another pony approached her. This time it was a colt, more confident than the previous mare.

"Hey, Gilda right?" he began. "I just wanted to say that it was pretty cool that you finally showed that Fang a thing or two. It was about time someone put him in his place! Anyway, I'll see ya round!" With that, he trotted away, leaving Gilda in even more confusion than before.

A small spark stirred in her chest, and for a fleeting second, the darkness in her cleared. Was it really that big a deal? She pondered this awhile before reaching the classroom door. 

Gilda made her way to her seat, and situated herself. A yellow pegasus colt in the seat to the left of her began glancing over, as if testing to see if it was safe to initiate conversation. "Uh, hey," Gilda said to the colt. His expression brightened at the gesture and responded immediately.

"Oh, hi! I'm Swift Breeze. You're Gilda right?" Gilda nodded, a tiny smile ghosting her face. "Well, it was pretty awesome of you to take care of Fang like that. Just thought you should know." The friendly grin on his face seemed genuine. Gilda let a small smile form on her face.

"Yeah," she said, thinking it over. "I guess it was."

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"Hey watch it!" Gilda snapped at a mare who happened to be in her way. "Sorry Gilda," replied the mare. "Yeah, next time watch where you're goin," replied the griffon, annoyed by the mare's lack of attention.

Gilda strode down the halls of the East Wing, a sense of self worth nearly palpable around her. With the whole Fang incident came a new confidence for the griffon. Within weeks, Gilda had become one of the most influential residents in the East Wing.

Ponies began holding doors open for her, agreeing with her, and doing what she said. She was in control. It felt good too. After all those years being trampled on, she finally had some recognition.

She spotter a familiar grey pony sitting in one of the living areas, still nursing the wounds under his eye. With a rather twisted smile, she approached him. "Oh hey Fang. How's the eye treatin' ya?" Fang replied with a quit groan. With a small laugh, Gilda walked away, leaving Fang to wallow in embarrassment. The same embarrassment he had left her in when she first arrived.

"You know, I thought you were different." The voice came from behind her, and belonged to a colt. "What?" asked Gilda, slightly irritated at the comment. "I said I thought you were different. When you came here, you weren't like this. You were kind, and gentle. Now look at you. You're exactly like Fang."

Gilda whipped around, and charged at the pony, pinning him to the floor, and drilled her gaze directly into his. She recognized the colt. He had been in her class ever since she was moved into the East Wing. She didn't know anything about him other than the fact that he didn't seem to talk much, and knew an uncanny amount about most ponies in the East Wing. "You listen to me," she said, seething with anger. "I am not like Fang. You got it? I'm not like him, and I never will be." The colt was unfazed by this.

"Say what you want," he said. "But you're just like him. You've changed." She let go of him, and slowly backed away. Was he right? She shook these thoughts out of her head. No. I'll never be like him. I'll show him. I'll show all these ponies! 
"I'm going to say this again," she spat. "I am not like him. End of story." The colt let out a sigh. "If you say so... You know the East Wing changes ponies... and griffons. The sooner you accept this, the sooner you can fix it."

Gilda let out an angry growl and punched at the ground. "Shut up! I am not like him!" She bolted into her room, and slammed it shut. The small lamp next to her bed cast a small, dim light across the room. She climbed up into her bed, and once again, let herself be taken away from the world, into her private sanctuary of dreams.