While Gilda would have been more happy to just lay back for a bit after her bath, she still felt at ill ease. She thought she could maybe try to make sense of what was going on--or more likely find new ways to gripe about it, either way was fine right now.
As she lay back, wishing for better answers, she found that big cake in her room had other ideas. The griffon just seemed to notice it after she turned over in her bed. This cake was like the last one, it too labeled “Not a trick”.
“Oh no,” Gilda said with wide eyes, then looking up to find Pinkie Pie on top of the bed’s headboard. The pony’s forelegs were across it as she looked down at her. “Not you again,” she moaned.
“Aw,” Pinkie Pie looked disappointed. “You peeked!”
“Get off my bed!” However Gilda didn’t care what the pony was thinking at this point. “I already feel like I’m losing it,” she yelled.
With a leap and a cartwheel Pinkie was on the floor by her tail, limbs out in a proud pose. The griffon only face clawed.
“Good point,” Gilda said absently, giving up on the logic as usual. This felt old already to her. “And what’s with the cake? I figured you’d be as ticked as the other ponies in town.”
“Kinda,” Pinkie said sadly as she went back to her feet. “But you seemed sad enough too with what’s going on.”
“Eh?” Gilda replied with a bit of shock. “What’s that supposed mean?”
“Even I’m surprised how much she hates you,” Pinkie said, looking sympathetic. “Did you two have your own kind of Pinkie Promise? Didn’t you know...”
“It don’t matter, alright?” Gilda cut the pony off. At first she just wanted to leave, getting up from her bed with hope the pony would leave her alone.
At least before deciding to just sit down with a groan, remembering what happened last time. Why run from the weirdness? She thought. It just going to find me anyway.
“I made her mad enough, end of story,” Gilda sighed in defeat. “So what are you trying to do anyway?”
“Why do you make ponies so mad so much, Gilda?” Pinkie asked with her head tilted, trotting over. “Have you ever tried being nice, or friendly, or inclusive, or polite, or…”
Gilda leapt out of bed and put her claw over the pony’s mouth to shut her up, not interested in a lecture. But, somehow, the lecture still happened.
Gilda’s beak popped open to continue, moving as Pinkie spoke through her. “...and not being a tough chick all the time. I mean, sure you are part bird but…” Horrified, Gilda let go of Pinkie Pie. “...You don’t always have something to prove,” she continued like nothing happened to the upset griffon. Not even missing a beat.
“Don’t...do...that!” Gilda said, low and slow in agitation as she backed away. “Geeze, how’d you even do that?”
“Give advice?” Pinkie missed the point and the griffon sighed again.
“You got advice beyond self improvement crud?” Gilda asked with another grumble and a claw on her face.
“Nope,” Pinkie said simply. But, as Gilda was about to growl, the pony gestured the griffon to the cake still in the room. “I just got a cake, if that helps.”
“It’s a start,” Gilda said with a sigh, putting her claw down. “So, you got a knife?”
Without a word, Pinkie Pie handed her a sharp one, and with it Gilda got to cutting a slice of the cake. As she cut, she heard movement and saw the cake pop open to to reveal--a toothless gator with a white, tied soft cloth hat. For a moment, the griffon stared at it, at least until it bit down on her beak. Pinkie, for whatever reason, was humming an odd tune as the griffon pulled the creature off.
Gilda was at least glad it had no teeth.
The griffon didn’t let it phase her, she just cut herself another slice and sat down. She wordlessly handed Pinkie, who was now next to her, the knife and the pony then hopped out off to the cake. Pinkie did as expected for once and got herself a few slices as well. All while she was still wearing her own cloth hat.
While Gilda just wanted to eat, the pink one had other ideas.
“So, I know you gave that first cake to Angel,” Pinkie said as Gilda ate.
“And?” she replied while still chewing. “You making something of it?” Gilda took another bite.
“Well, I know why you’d give it away,” Pinkie said looking down, then up again cheerful as usual. “But I also kind of thought you’d be more mad when you found out you missed out.” She paused. “Then again, I did kinda plan for you to try to share it with someone! I knew you wouldn't eat it alone with how paranoid you are!”
“And?” Gilda took another bite as she tried not to let the pony get to her. “So the rabbit got it? So what?”
“Did ya ever have the idea that you became friends with him?” Pinkie answered, and Gilda looked a bit shocked at that fact. “I mean, how many ponies can play checkers with him? Well, Fluttershy sure, but who else?”
The griffon didn’t answer, she just got up to cut another slice or two. After she sat back down, she found Pinkie had already downed the slices she had on her plate, before putting a hoof on the griffon’s back.
“Few ponies know, but down in Ponyville they say, that Gilda’s heart grew…” Pinkie’s rhyme was cut off by Gilda flicking the pony’s nose with her claw. While she was clearly upset, Gilda sighed on how little it helped.
“Most ponies aren’t too happy with me, Pink,” Gilda deadpanned. “And last I checked I can jump into a lake. Probably freeze to death too.” She now looked at the cake she had, but just didn’t feel the appetite for it.
“I said some!” Pinkie said in unhappy defense. “And that stings too!”
“Yeah, yeah…” Gilda said to calm things down. “So, why aren’t you? Even that Fluttershy pony seemed pretty ticked after that fight.” She chowed down of one of the cake pieces she had now.
Somehow, during that moment, Pinkie had already gotten back with more slices and already digging into them. After putting two in her mouth at the same time as the griffon watched, the pony spoke up.
“Things change, G!” Pinkie said with a shrug, her still mouth full. “At least I hope so, things aren’t as much fun otherwise.” She swallowed. “Maybe you still can too! And it’s not like Fluttershy was angry at you forever!” she added happily. ”She’s ok to forgive you if you know what you did wrong.”
“Yeah…” Gilda added as she kept eating. “...right.”
It was quiet for a moment, likely as Pinkie had filled her plate and was eating two pieces at once as Gilda looked down. While part of her saw this as a challenge the pony’s statement, she shrugged. She didn’t have the energy right now.
Unfortunately, after the pony’s plate was licked clean, Pinky was back to chatty mode again.
“Were you one of those griffons that celebrate holiday nights alone? And what do you guys celebrate?” Pinkie asked with interest. “What did you do last year?” Despite a dislike to 20 questions, the griffon felt she may as well answer.
“Well, last Hearth’s Warming or two had me spend them drinking dragon bowls…” Gilda said as she finished her last piece of cake. Somehow, part of that story had the pony next to her holding her face in shock and horror.
“Made from real dragons?!” Pinkie Pie shouted back.
“No, heck no,” Gilda answered as she shook her head. “Why would….It’s a cocktail, just a drink mix with alcohol,” she explained.
Pinkie calmed down, letting out a “phew”.
“Next you’ll panic about fried dragon rolls…” Gilda added, and realized her mistake.
Oh snap, Gilda thought as Pinkie Pie looked scared again. “It’s just fish, vegetables, rice, in a roll, with fried bits and sauce. Geeze!” Gilda sighed after her long explanation. “Will you stop doing that? This is why I get sick of ponies.”
“Heh,” Pinkie said with humor, now slightly more calm. Or as calm as she gets at times. Even so, ignoring Gilda’s protest. “So why don’t they call them something else? Like fried fish balls? Or liquid dragon fire?”
Gilda shrugged. “Less cool sounding I guess,” was her answer. “How should I know?”
“I still don’t think I’d drink those, even with a cool name,” Pinkie said looking disgusted, her tongue out. “Those kind of drinks aren’t sweet at all. There all just bitter and icky.”
“It dulls the pain,” Gilda said off hand.
“Really?” Pinkie Pie asked as she tilted her head, curious.
“Nope,” Gilda’s answer let the air fall out of the pink pony’s hair with the sound of a deflated balloon. “Oh, go eat more cake you big crybaby,” Gilda dismissed with her claw.
“But the cake is all gone,” Pinkie replied, and when the griffon looked, she found this was true. Despite the situation, Pinkie’s smile countered Gilda’s frown.
“I had like four pieces…” Gilda moaned sadly. “How many did you have?”
“The rest?” Pinkie answered. Gilda face clawed at that answer.
“Guess it was good while it lasted,” Gilda muttered looking aside. “You still sticking around, or you got other ideas?”
“I think we had a good talk,” Pinkie said with a smile. “I think you should hug more!”
“Whatever.” Gilda rolled her eyes. “Next you’ll be saying I’ve gone soft,” she muttered. “Seeing as I haven’t yelled at you enough today…”
At first, it looked like Pinkie would make a softy joke but decided to do something else.
“You're a mean one, Gilda bird, you’ve got…” Pinkie sang and Gilda gave her a playful jab at that grim tone the song had.
The griffon even she got a crack out of that, having a good laugh for once.
“That’s the spirit G!” Pinkie Pie said with glee, jabbing back. “See ya latter, after all it’s time for dinner.”
“What?” Gilda asked as the door to her room was knocked on, causing her to turn around to the sound.
“Um, Gilda?” She could hear Fluttershy say. “Dinners ready.” Gilda didn’t need to look to know Pinkie had already left the room. Somehow she just knew.
“The sick part is I’m getting used to this…” Gilda said to herself as she opened the door.
“Used to what?” Shy asked without knowing any context of the griffon’s words.
“Forget it,” Gilda sighed with an off smile. “So, what’s for dinner? I’m starved.”