//------------------------------// // Friendship Scones // Story: The Second Nice Thing // by RadBunny //------------------------------// Friendship. The word was awkward to say, let alone think about. And yet, regardless of that, here I was selling scones because of it. It had been three days since Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie had visited, and it still sent a weird tingle-ish feeling down my spine to realize that they were my friends…again. Well, weird in a good way. Griffonstone was actually starting to look more together, not that there was anything wrong in the- Ok, it was a dump before. Things had fallen apart so slowly, and it was just how things were- how was I to know some baked goods could actually change a town? The houses were slowly being repaired, the library actually becoming less of a tumble of books and rubble, and more of an actual building. Strangely enough, each griffon helping had been a customer in the past few days. Nobody had said anything; just started helping. Could accepting each other, coexisting in a positive way cause such a change? The fact that I had accepted a hug from the pink terror seemed to affirm that statement. I had just forgotten, and she had helped me remember Pinkie Pie- that still spazy and slightly unnerving pony, had made me remember what it was like to actually care about…. anything. She had saved my scones from being lumps of dough, helped my business, and though I’d never admit it, myself. The memories still burned through my consciousness; my first day at the Junior Speedsters: The loneliness, The fear, The nerves, The lack of anything familiar.... I had been scared. Even though it was many years ago, I still felt…..warm when thinking about the prismatic blur that had caused me to look up in wonder. The fear had vanished, instead replaced with- I now looked to my claws, brow furrowing briefly. Was that was friendship had been? That strange acceptance I had felt when Rainbow had looked out for me? The old feeling returned as another customer approached, actually smiling Well, not totally, rather difficult to do with a beak and all that, but, the griffon’s face was less scowl-ish, and more curious than anything. A bit later, and the ash-colored citizen actually looked content. It was times like this that I realized how bad we had been off; if something this simple was causing a change, if these little expressions of happiness were so rare, perhaps, those ponies were right. Every hour, that thought seemed to slowly ring more true. Brushing some stray feathers flat, it was then on with the oven mitts, and quickly pulling another batch of scones from my portable bakery. Not one, but now two fellow griffons approached. One was the ash-colored individual from earlier- a male, and another more bulky brown dude. The dirt-colored one seemed just as awkward as I was when giving a scone to Greta. “Hey, uh, so…” He stammered out, still not meeting my gaze. Wow. Have we forgotten how to even talk to other griffons? Suppose if I’m even bothering to ask myself that, the answer is yes. “Scone?” I asked simply, raising an eyebrow and holding out one of the fresh fluffy pastries, and finding it taken and replaced with a golden bit. He took a bite, and the griffon’s eyes instantly widened; and the scone was quickly devoured. “Hey, um, thanks.” He mumbled before walking off with the other ashen one. Even a simple thank you- things long since forgotten, actually made me feel nice. That in and of itself I found rather odd, but comforting. It was like the feelings back at the junior speedsters with Dash, just not as intense; A simple acceptance. Was my life so lame as to think I had missed out on that simple pleasure? I would have smacked my claws to my face if not for holding another tray of scones. How much more of an obvious answer could I get? A pronking party pony and rainbow race-mare had shown me a pretty definite response to that. I had gone from loathing two ponies to considering them friends, and actually looking forward to seeing them again, in under a day. To say it was overwhelming and a bit freaky was a gross understatement. The grey griffon returning interrupted my train of internal monologue. He had a much softer face than the others; but still gruff enough to pull off a decent tough-guy look. Not too hard on the eyes either; but I had scones to sell. “It’s Gilda, right? Greta said you’d be here.” He asked, causing me to nod briefly. “Yea, can I help you?” The response was a bit more snappy than I intended, but hey, give me a break. I was three days into friendshipping 'stuff.' What was sadder was that these few words were the most I had spoken with anyone in length in a long time. Well, other than two certain pony visitors. “So, there’s some others at the library. Uh, if you wanted to sell some of these to them, I think they’d buy ‘em. Just wanted to let you know…” He awkwardly suggested, actually appearing embarrassed and not meeting my gaze. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who didn’t know how to do the whole friendship thing? “I’ll head over there, thanks.” I replied, softer this time, but not too soft. Making friends or not, I couldn’t help but be a bit gruff. “N-no problem.” Was the stammering reply, the poor griffon’s face feathers actually poofing slightly. It was rather adorable actually. It was a cross-culture gesture, but today couldn’t get any weirder, so I held out my clawed hand to shake his in thanks. Didn’t even know his name, but this griffon had actually given me some tips. Recent lesson in friendship: If someone helps you, thank them, even if it’s something small and stupid. Cautiously shaking my claws, the other griffon nodded, and we then went on our way. Apparently this guy was going to clean up the library as well. What I couldn’t shake though, was of how nice it was to actually have contact with a fellow griffon. Ponies were…squishy. And some certain pink ponies were a bit too much focused on the close-contact deal. Yet that simple claw shake made me feel strangely happy, as though realizing that someone else existed. That I wasn’t alone. Setting up shop near the library, I sighed, shaking my head as the Junior Speedsters memories returned. Was that all I wanted? What had caused me to be so nasty to Pinkie Pie? It was so simple, and scary…. I just didn’t want to be alone; and maybe, just maybe, selling these scones could help me in that. The faces of the clean up crew seemed almost relaxed as they cleaned, occasionally coming over to make a few short remarks with each other, buy some scones, and then go back to work. They ended about the same time I was packing up in the evening. “Hey, thanks, was nice for a snack while we worked.” Ash-feathers mumbled softly as I was packing up my cart. “Eh , no biggie. Thanks for the business tip.” Definitely had to work on a better response… “Well, see you later. Nice to meet you Gilda….” He remarked, taking off and flying towards the outskirts of the town. I stood next to my partially hooked-up card, utterly stupefied. Thanks had been mumbled to me these past few days, even a few rare praises about my scones. But somegriffon actually though it was nice to meet me? I didn’t care if he was from out of town, or wherever he came from. That was the second nice thing somegriffon had ever said to me, and I sincerely hoped it wasn’t going to be the last.