A Griffon Named Gilda

by Hodd

Alone

It was a sunny day, not unlike all others, as Gilda happily made her way back from the yard into the East Wing. Times had become easy for the griffon over the last year or so. She was getting straight A's in school, ponies began to come out and socialize with her, and Fang finally gave up on trying to harass her.

She trotted down the long East Wing hallway, a grin forming on her face. She was off to see Buck. Visiting Buck was the highlight of her day when it came to living in this otherwise dreary place. She had even taken to calling him "Big Bro." It was true, too. Buck had, in many ways, been her older sibling.

It was amazing how well the two got along. Laughs were a near constant, and arguments were few and far between. And virtually all of the arguments the two somewhat bullheaded adolescents got into ended up in a fit of laughter, and jeering.

"Hey Big Br-" she called out as she rounded the corner into Buck's room. She eyed his bed, and noted that it was empty. Furthermore, the various knick-knacks and bobbles on his end table were missing as well. Her heart sank. "Buck?" she called through the hallway of the East Wing. "Buck!?" This time a bit louder.

"He ain't here," answered a sinister voice, the slightest amount of amusement in his voice. "Fang," she said, cursing at the very mention of the name. "Or should I call you Maurice?" This enraged the greyscale pony. "No one calls me that! You got it?! You may have been able to test me with your precious Buck around, but he's been adopted, left you behind, and now, you're alone."

Alone. That word shot around her mind like a bullet. "Whatever, Fang. I know you're just screwing with me, so knock it off. I know he's here somewhere." Fang gave a small, indifferent shrug. "Well," he began, "suit yourself. If you don't believe me, fine. It'll just make it that much harder when you come back to reality, and realize that your 'Big Bro,' is gone." A vindictive smile formed on his face, as he chuckled to himself, and departed.

Gilda's heart raced. Could it be true? Is Buck gone? She shook her head furiously. No, no it can't be! He's here somehwere! She was off like a shot, down the hall way of the East Wing to her own room, desperately hoping they were caught in some silly instance of cat and mouse. Once again, a sinking feeling filled her chest and down into her stomach as she saw that her room, as well, was empty.

Panic struck her, and her breathing increased. Oh, no no no no no no. He can't be gone. He can't be! She looked wildly side to side, up and down the East Wing, desperately looking for a streak of dark blue, or a flash of yellow, indicating his person. Instead, it was the normal hum drum drone the East Wing, no sign of Buck to be found.

She began asking random ponies, ones she didn't even know, one after another, desperately trying to find an answer, but all replies were the same;
'Nope.'
'No, sorry, haven't seen him since yesterday.'
'Didn't he get adopted?'
'Nah, last I heard, a family of pegasi came and picked him up.'

Gilda was in full panic. She raced through the hallways, desperation clouding her thoughts, making her actions erratic and unpredictable. It wasn't until a hoof rested on her shoulder did she stop looking. She whipped around, to see the Warden, a certain indifferent expression plastered on her face.

"If you're looking for your friend, 'Buck,' I'm afraid he's been adopted. I'm terribly sorry. Now please, stop your searching. It's becoming a nuisance." With that, she was off, striding back to her office, arrogance nearly palpable in her bubble of authority.

Gilda, overwhelmed, trudged to her room, and collapsed into her bed. Buck, the one pony who stuck by her, the one pony who truly cared for her was gone, and the Warden couldn't have cared less. She wept into her pillow, grief enshrouding her, covering her in a dark haze. Grief slowly turned into frustration, and then anger, and then rage.

How could she be so indifferent? So cruel!? She clenched her fists in fury. Her arm wound back, and struck the wall, leaving a large indentation in it. Less than a minute later, an irritated voice funneled into her room. "Hey, could you keep it down?" The voice came from a pony standing in the doorway of her room. It was the pony who lived in the room next door to hers, the one who's wall she had punched.

Gilda inhaled and exhaled deeply, anger visible in her body language. She rose from her bed and approached the pony. Fast. "Get out. Now." Even the most dimwitted of ponies knows not to confront an angry griffon. He chuckled nervously, and backed up on his hind legs, forelegs raised in the air, as if terrified to make a move.

"Hey, uh my bad, I mean, punching the wall, that's cool. I mean, ya gotta do what ya gotta do, right?" a nervous chuckle once again found its way out of his mouth. Gilda wasn't amused. "So uh, yeah, I'll just, uh... get going." He sprinted away, past his own room, rounded a corner, and was out of sight.

Gilda huffed, as if challenging the pony to come back. She laid back in her bed, mind racing. It was evening, she realized, noting the orange glow of the sun on the shades of her room. Gilda let out a sigh, closing her eyes and concentrating. Her thoughts clouded, and her anger subsided as sleep wrapped her in its welcoming embrace.

Her slumber wasn't without interruptions, however. A certain dream plagued her mind over and over. Her eyes flinched as images flashed in her mind. Sweat formed on her brow, and mixed with the tears forming in her eyes.

She sat straight up in her bed, gasping. Her features faded into sorrow however, as she recollected her dream. Buck's face flashed in her dream over and over. Memories of their old antics flooded in. She gave into her grief and wept.

All of those memories they shared seemingly for nothing. All the adventures and talks they had may as well never have happened. Buck was truly her only special connection. He was the only one that actually took the time to understand her. Now, she was alone.

Alone. She'd never had to cope with that before. Even in her days in the filly wing, there were several fillies that she had talked with, and would even consider friends. All that was gone, however. Besides Buck, her relationships were... well nonexistent.

All this was too much for her. Her mind frenzied for options, but came up with nothing. Her future, it seems, was bleak. She knew that adoption was virtually not a possibility. Who would adopt a freak? she asked herself. She sighed, and returned her still teary eyes into the familiar comfort of her pillow. Her thoughts quieted as she wept, sleep finally returning to the broken griffon.