Chapter 2: Why We Should Be Friends
“...and that’s how the signing of the Fourth Hooves And Talon Trade Accord at Aquila lead to the intermingling of our economies!”
One hour.
One whole hour.
Rainbow knew the risks. There was always a fifty-fifty chance in coming to Twilight for help. Sometimes she dispensed advice and sent you on your merry way. The other half of the time though…
“So, any questions?” Twilight beamed a bright smile. “Oh!” Rainbow yawned and watched Twilight delight in unfurling graphs and charts. “So, who wants to hear about immigration trends?”
Rainbow buried her face in her hooves. “Twilight…”
The alicorn continued scribbling on the blackboard.
“Twilight!” Rainbow repeated louder, finally pulling her friend’s attention away from the impromptu lesson. “As thrilling as all this stuff is, don’t you think this is all a bit...umm… You know what? This is boring, Twilight! Dull and boring!”
Gasp! Twilight’s chalk fell from her magical grip to the floor.
“Boring? I’d hardly call highlighting the most important treaties in Pony-Griffon history boring, Rainbow Dash. Everyone knows that increased trade is one of the best ways to strengthen friendships between nations. You understand, girls. Right?”
Apple Bloom lay snoozing, hooves batting the air while Sweetie used her as a pillow and Scootaloo snored into an open textbook.
Twilight offered a sheepish smile. “Okay, Maybe I might have gone a teeny-tiny bit overboard,” she admitted as the two adults went about shaking the girls awake.
Spike raised an eyebrow. “Really? You think so?”
“Look, Twilight,. I brought the girls here so you’d tell Scoots all about how griffons and ponies first met and became friends. Not… Interdependent Economics,” she read off the blackboard. “I mean at Junior Speedsters I became friends with Gilda when we were fighting over the last piece of cantaloupe left in the salad bar, but I don't think cantaloupe is in season now.”
“So who got the cantaloupe?” Scootaloo asked with a groggy yawn.
Dash puffed out her chest. “Me, of course. Got scratched up real bad, but it was worth it.”
“So…” Scootaloo rubbed her chin. “You want me to make friends with him by stealing a piece of fruit?”
“Yeah. Oh, wait. No. Um…” Rainbow mouthed, “Help Me!” in the alicorn’s direction.
“I don’t think that’s quite what she means, Scootaloo.” Twilight clapped her hooves. “Wait here! I have just what we need!” and called up the stairs, “Spike! Did you unpack the trunk from our trip to the Griffon Kingdom yet? And make some cocoa, please.”
“Gilda did get me back though,” Rainbow continued after the alicorn rushed upstairs. “Next day, stole my chocolate milk. So I stole her fries. Eventually, the principal dragged us both into his office and gave us a choice: Get used to each other or get kicked out of flight school. He also said something about liability insurance, I think.”
Several steaming cups of Spike’s Special Seven-Spiced Sumptuous Cocoa infused the group with enough sugar and caffeine to recover from Twilight’s “scintillating” lecture.
Scootaloo sipped from her cup. “So I should steal his milk too?”
“That just sounds likes a recipe for detention, if y’all ask me.”
Sweetie offered another idea. “What if you gave it back later?”
“Look, girls. No stealing, okay? Lets just wait for Twilight, and it’ll all make sense.”
Twilight teleported back in with a distinct pop! “Annnd I’m back! So, maybe Economics was a bit much, so how about I read you the story about the first griffon to meet a pony?” Then, an embarrassed smack to her forehead, “Silly me, I almost forgot,” Twilight winked out and winked back in dressed in...
Rainbow fell off her cushion laughing. “Geez, Twilight, did you make a quick trip back in time to grab those duds? The Canterlot Renaissance Faire isn’t for two months.”
Twilight was dressed in a forest-green hooded robe with puffy sun-yellow sleeves covered in clashing red stripes that assaulted both the eyes and good taste. If that was not enough, there were even tiny bells wrapped all around everything, including the pink pointy shoes as garish icing on the fashion disaster cake.
Part of Dash really, really wished that Rarity would walk through the door in that very moment. The screaming and raw panic would have been hilarious. Fire would most certainly also have been involved, although Dash was fairly sure Rarity would remove the clothes from their wearer first.... Probably.
Sweetie Belle set down her empty mug to cheerfully applaud. “I think it looks neat.” Further proof of Rarity’s once drunken assertion that she was secretly adopted.
“Lame,” countered Scootaloo, filling Rainbow’s heart with sisterly pride.
“I’ll have you know that this is an authentic Griffon Storyteller’s outfit!” Twilight twirled her garish red cape with a jingling of tiny bells. Every time they rang, a fashionista dropped to the pavement dead in Manehatten as a ritual sacrifice to the gods of good taste. “It was a gift from King Aether on my last visit to Griffonia. Before schools became common, Royal Storytellers visited towns and villages, teaching children about their cultural history through stories, many quilled by the King himself.”
“I think the outfit’s pretty snazzy.” Showing that Spike did not understand Rarity as much as he liked to think, the little dragon was attired in a costume almost as breathtakingly 'rustic' as Twilight's, only with the addition of a somewhat out-of-tune lute which he insisted on strumming. “Ladies love a guy who plays the guitar.”
“A lute, Spike,” corrected Twilight. “And I’m not sure you’re playing it correctly.”
“Wow…” Rainbow whistled. “You got to meet The Sky King himself? Lucky.”
“What’s the big deal?” Scootaloo asked, voice thoroughly unimpressed. “I bet you could beat him in a race, Rainbow.”
“Hate to burst your bubble, Scoots, but no one outflies The Sky King. Not even The Dash.”
“Just as Princess Celestia and Princess Luna guide the Sun and the Moon, so too does King Aether command the Great Winds,” Twilight told them. “A single gust from his wings would hurtle Dash to the ground or shatter her against a cliff.”
“Total crash and burn, Scoots.” Rainbow sent her hoof spiraling to the floor. “Blam! Splat! Rainbow pancake.”
“Not that he would accept the challenge, of course,” Twilight explained. “In fact, it’s considered a tremendous breach of protocol to challenge the King to any physical contest. You wouldn’t think it at first glance, but King Aether is quite a gentle griffon. He’d feel terrible if he injured anyone.”
“What if he gave her a head start?” Scootaloo suggested.
Rainbow snorted at the mere mention of a handicap while Twilight shook her head. “That wouldn’t work. You see, Scootaloo, in griffon society everyone is expected to give their best effort no matter the task. To throw a contest on purpose, even to a friend, is seen as a grave insult, both to your opponent and to the competition. So, no, he wouldn’t hold back. Honor wouldn’t allow it.”
Apple Bloom raised a hoof. “This is interesting and all, but what do your fancy duds have to do with tellin’ us a story?”
Rainbow sighed as a familiar grin split her nerdy friend’s face. Had Apple Bloom learned nothing?
“That’s a very good question, Apple Bloom, with a long, complex answer—”
“No,” Rainbow deadpanned.
Twilight pouted. “But I have notecards—”
Eyes narrowed in suspicion. “...How many?”
“...Only several—”
“Well that’s not so bad.”
“—dozen.”
“No, Twilight.”
“Oh c’mooon!”
Her whining left Rainbow unmoved. “You have ten seconds, or I’m taking the girls home.”
With a hmmph, Twilight agreed, complaining under her breath about learning opportunities wasted and unappreciated. She placed the heavy tome down on the floor and motioned towards the bright yellow cover with the inscriptions of griffins and pegasi flying in formation around a tall mountain peak covered in fluffy clouds. An iron talon clasping a brass hoof held it closed.
“The book is locked with an old griffon enchantment. Only by completing the traditional song and dance of the storytellers will it open.”
Her explanation was again met with narrowed eyes from Rainbow. “...You just made that up, didn’t you?”
“Please, Rainbow. She just wants to spread a little knowledge,” Spike whispered, nudging an elbow towards the quiver-lipped Princess of Friendship. “Is it always interesting? No. Just let Twilight have this. She asks so little.”
“Ugh… Fine,” Dash grunted, eyes rolling. “Go ahead, Twilight. Egghead away.”
“Yay!” The now gleeful Storyteller Twilight Sparkle skipped to the center of the room and nodded to Spike, who started strumming his lute. Wings were unfurled, throats were discretely cleared, and Rainbow Dash put her hooves over her ears, just in case...
(*) for a given quality of 'dance,' that is. Had she been near a medical facility, she might have received the same attention as a stroke victim or someone having an epileptic seizure. A rooster, it should be noted, would have dug her boogie and proposed on the spot.
And Twilight danced⁽*⁾. Her cape fluttered, creating swirls of loud color as she twirled. Her wings flapped and her bells jingled with each step, and she sang.
♫ Come little cubs. Come gather gather. Gather and hear the tale of how we met our best friends so true.
Come little chicks. Come gather gather. Gather and hear the tale of how we met our siblings of the sky.
Come little fledglings. Come gather gather. Gather and hear the tale of Hildegarde and Grey Feather. ♫
☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁
Once upon a time, long ago, there lived a young griffon named Hildegarde, a mighty huntress with no peer, most skilled in the land.
She was blessed by the Eagle Father with wings so broad that albatrosses cried out in envy. The Cat Mother granted her a lion’s size and strength thrice over, and she encountered neither beast nor griffon who could match her skills and power.
Yet, all her success made Hildegarde prideful, and she shunned the company of other griffons, preferring to hunt alone.
“Hildegarde, my proud daughter of the wind, “ her father told her one night. “You are a great hunter. This I do not deny. But to hunt alone, ‘’tis folly most great. You should hunt alongside friends, for a flock is watchful of the shadows which strike from behind.”
But Hildegarde did not heed her father's words. What need had she for friends? She was far stronger than any of the other griffons. True, the other hunters viewed Hildegarde with great admiration, and while some had approached her with offers of companionship, she rebuffed them all. Hildegarde had little time for such foolishness, instead spending all her time honing her skills with spear, sword, and net.
Then one day, a herald arrived in the village from the capital with a royal proclamation: ‘Be they peasant or highborn, whomsoever returns to King’s Nest bearing a prize deemed worthy of the King shall be inducted into The Iron Talons, the royal order of knights.’
The next the morning she packed, for she wished to fly far, far away to places unexplored, for surely there lived prey worthy of The King’s approval.
Her father was fraught with worry, and gave warning. “Hildegarde, my reckless daughter, do not fly there alone, for only danger awaits and your song will not carry. Your mother worries a grandmother she will never be. Why not set aside this folly and be wed?”
Again his words went unheeded. “I fly alone and never have I sang out for the aid of others.” She laughed. “My heart yearns not for friendship or love; it yearns for glory. What need I for a mate? Let one come who can snatch me from the sky. Let one come who can best me in a fight and has the strength to pin me to the earth. That one I shall marry and gladly bear their children. For now, fame and glory call, and my heart demands I answer.”
So she flew, for days and nights. Far, far from home to the edge of our lands in search of a worthy prize. One morning, Hildegarde made camp near a hot spring. While bathing in the steaming waters, she felt unknown eyes resting on her from the clouds above. Quick as an arrow’s flight, the mighty huntress spread her wings and took to the sky, only to find the cloud empty. Yet flapping wings drew her attention.
Hildegard knew of many beasts but this one was beyond her knowledge. Color of ash one might find heaped around a blacksmith’s forge, the handsome creature reminded her of a winged-doe, yet stockier. But it was the creature’s flight which mesmerized her. It flew with such grace and agility, and possessed such speed it became a dark speck against the sky within moments.
Her blood grew hot. Hildegarde knew this was the trophy she sought.
Quickly, Hildegard threw away her weapons and armor. As the Cat Mother commanded: Let those who hunt only for glory leave the trappings of steel behind and meet their prey as equals, for the skilled hunter needs naught but beak and claw.
Hildegarde flew higher, riding the thermal currents. The graceful beast was fast, but she knew it would soon tire.
Her prey proved wily, diving amongst a copse of needletrees, their canopy masking him from her sight. A hawk, she dove after him, but here her proud wings betrayed her. While he darted between trunks with the ease of a swallow, the much larger huntress was forced to slow, lest she crash.
For the first time, her pride was wounded, as her prey had escaped her grasp. Most vexed was she, but also filled with excitement. “For the harder the hunt, the more satisfying the taste of victory."
The next day, to her surprise, she awoke to him circling her tent, and the huntress once again spread her wings in chase. This time she was sure she would catch her quarry, and called on The Eagle Father to grant her speed.
And answer her prayers he did as she flew faster, growing closer and closer still. But this turned out to be an illusion. Just as she was within reach, he put on a burst of speed, evading her outstretched talons.
This happened numerous times. Each time she would draw near, and each time her talons would snatch only air. With each failure, the proud huntress grew more and more frustrated, her patience worn so thin she did not notice the dark clouds ahead.
By the time she realized her mistake, it was too late. The violent storm made her its plaything, casting her to and fro.
Her quarry reared back and struck a cloud. With the sound of thunder, a bolt of lightning shot forth. She had only a moment to wonder what sorcery allowed one to coax lightning from a cloud as a farmer milked goats before the powerful bolt struck her in the chest.
Stricken, the once invincible Hildegarde fell from the sky, and watched as the creature’s brethren appeared from their hiding places inside the storm to circle her like wolves. The hunter had become the hunted.
When she awoke, Hildegarde found herself inside a prison cell, the floors and walls miraculously built of cloud-stuff, but when tested felt hard as stone. The bars, crafted of lightning, were her only window to the outside world, and what she witnessed was truly amazing.
“Tis a fortress made of clouds. These creatures be not beasts, I can see it for true. Their coats may look soft and remind of flowers in spring, but their weapons look sharp and their pennant flies high. Surely this a conquering army be.”
And she sat in her cell and lamented her foolish pride as her father’s words rung true. She was alone. How would she warn her people? She was so far away and her song would not carry.
Hildegarde was not surprised when the ash-grey winged-deer entered her cell. Now far, far different from the wild animal he’d played days prior. Fine armor he wore now, more ornate than his fellows.
If he felt any fear of her, he hid it well, entering her cell alone and speaking to her in whinnies, nickers, and neighs.
Not that there was much she could do to him. The bolt of lightning had drained her might and left a full claw-width of charred flesh burned across her chest, while the fall had broken both of her wings.
Believing he wanted the glory of her death for himself, she made peace with the Cat Mother and Eagle Father and asked forgiveness for her arrogance.
But the cold bite of his blade upon her neck did not arrive. Instead, gentle hooves tended her wings, and a soft touch dampened the burning pain in her chest with soothing cream. Her jailer left her fish to eat and water to drink, and returned later laden with parchment, book and quill.
Each day he would visit to tend her wounds and teach her their letters, remaining by her side as they supped from the same plate.
Weeks passed and Hildegarde learned much. His name was Grey Feather of the Pegasi tribe, one of three amongst the pony race, and ascribed each feats beyond her imagining. Earth Ponies, who willed life from the soil at their touch. The Unicorns, who held sway over the heavens. And finally, his own tribe; they who bent the skies to their will.
Hildegarde would have scoffed at such boasts if not for witnessing the fact with her own eyes and feeling the power of the clouds on her own breast as the pegasi built a great fortress in the sky.
Grey Feather shared tales of his home, a land far away, across the ocean, ravaged by eternal winter, and of his leader, The Hurricane, who ordered expeditions to seek out a new land for their tribe. As the best scout, it fell on Grey Feather to lead this expedition.
In turn, she told him of her hunts and the many beasts she had overcome. When she arrived at the King’s proclamation, he laughed deeply, for he had only acted the wild beast to better evade discovery. To be considered a prize worthy of knighthood was most amusing. He’d feared if she returned to her people, an army would fall upon his soldiers. So, knowing he could not match her strength, the cunning soldier had lured her into the storm where his comrades had lain in wait.
Hildegarde felt her ire lessen at being bested by a worthy foe. Yet she vowed, once her wings healed, to escape.
But her injuries proved most dire, and as time passed she grew weaker; until on one visit Grey Feather found the huntress collapsed, burning with fever. The pegasus grew most worried. During their time together, he had grown fond of the griffon, although he had wisely kept his distance from her shackled limbs. But no longer. Stripping away the chains, he declared, “Do we not share the same warrior’s spirit? Just as I am son of the clouds, she is daughter to the wind. To let such heart pass into shadow would be a grave sin indeed.”
For weeks he remained constantly at her side, caring for her as a mother would her own chick. When her head grew warm, he offered wet cloth. When her body grew cold, he warmed her body with his own.
As she recovered, the pegasus did not retreat beyond her reach, nor place the chains back upon her limbs, for a bond had been formed between them, and the mighty huntress found herself troubled. Each time he left her cage, she felt a hole grow in her heart which she had never felt before. With each passing day it grew, a longing void which remained unfilled until his next visit.
One night, while between the sleeping and waking worlds, they were overcome by passion, and in the quiet night, they journeyed to places no other pony and griffon had ever visited. No longer captor and captive, but now something else, an emotion she had never experienced had come into their relationship, and she was no longer consumed by thoughts of escape.
The next morning, Grey Feather shook her awake. Outside, horns bellowed, and she watched the soldiers scramble about. When she asked him why, his face was grim.
The Hurricane had landed.
Grey Feather painted a bleak picture of his leader. Commander Hurricane was a bloodthirsty warrior who craved battle and would love nothing more than conquest over her kind. “My love, I bid you warn your king. Though letting you go shall mean my head, I do so gladly.” He offered her his lips and his sword before departing alone.
But Hildegarde did not flee. To abandon one’s mate is not our way. Instead, she did as her captors once did, and hid high amongst the clouds surrounding the fort.
Her quarry was easy to spot. The Hurricane towered as a cub amongst his toys, a full head and a half taller than his warriors. Clad in ornate silver armor and helmet crested in grey, he strode through the encampment with an authoritative air, followed by Grey Feather who matched his steps with an apprehensive expression.
More interesting was the robed unicorn who followed them, for she held parchment aloft in a strange glow from the horn on her forehead. Yet as interesting as the sorceress was, Hildegarde worried for her love and watched him to the exclusion of all else.
So focused was she that Hildegarde failed to the notice the patrol until it was too late. She cursed her lack of attention and attempted to flee, but the pegasus warriors swarmed her like bees. With nets and ropes they bound her again like captured prey. Although her claws could have made them pay a terrible toll for their assault, she found herself unable to draw blood against them. Even so, it took five pegasus warriors to drag her from the sky.
She was brought before The Hurricane bound in irons. The Commander took one look at the pony-forged blade she carried and flung it at Grey Feather’s hooves, wroth with fury. “Treason!” he cried. “You dare strike a pact with this monster against me? For your crime, there is but one punishment!”
She watched in dismay as The Hurricane’s guards threw Grey Feather to the ground and his leader raised his sword. Again, her pride had led her to folly, and now her love’s disgrace.
Hildegarde’s heart ached and she sung out, not for aid for herself but her love.
The Cat Mother, hearing her plea, blessed her and filled her limbs with power. With the roar of ten lions, Hildegarde burst free of her chains, scattering her captors to the winds. Powerful talons snapped The Hurricane's blade in twain like dry kindling, and her great wings unfurled, casting shadow enough to cow any soldier foolish enough to step forth.
Yet the Commander refused to back down. For he was The Hurricane, and cowered before no foe. Seizing a fallen spear, he thrust it at her exposed chest, a mighty blow that would have sundered even the thickest armor. But she was the Cat Mother’s blessed, the blade shattered against the power of her love, and The Hurricane found himself lifted off the ground as if he were a newborn hatchling.
With just the strength of one paw, she held aloft the great pegasus by the neck. From the other, her talons extended, for he had dared to threaten her beloved and she intended to exact a dire price.
Blood would certainly have been spilled at that moment if the horned one had not spoken.
“Cease!” Though slight of build, the unicorn’s sorcery was powerful, and the command echoed throughout the camp with the power of a thunderclap. Even the mighty Hurricane ceased to struggle in her grasp, casting his eyes away from the talons which were poised to end his life and towards the unimposing pony who seemed so soft and weak to the eye.
“Be at ease, stranger. We seek not conflict with you or your kind.”
Sensing peace in the robed unicorn, Hildegarde released The Hurricane, but stood sentinel over her love.
“Commander, withdraw your soldiers,” the unicorn ordered. “Have we learned nothing? Our tribes fought amongst ourselves for so long and through so many misunderstandings. Now we stand before a new people. Shall our first act be to repeat the same mistakes and start again down the road of hatred?”
At the unicorn’s sage wisdom, the ponies did withdraw.
Hildegarde learned later her name to be Clover the Clever, chief advisor to the Princess of the Unicorns.
Clover repeated Grey Feather’s tale of escape from a land of eternal winter and the search for a new place to settle. Through the power of friendship, the once warring tribes had unified. She had accompanied the Commander across the sea in search of the lost Pegasi expeditions so that they might return home to their new country of Equestria.
What followed should be well known to you. Both Clover and Commander Hurricane made themselves known to our King, and King Aether in his wisdom recognized the Pegasi as fellow children of the Eagle Father, offering welcome to any Pegasi who wished to stay in our lands. Many chose to do so and from them was established the first embassy our kingdom had ever known.
As for Hildegarde, the huntress was true to her word, marrying he who had bested her. Under the royal gaze of King Aether, Hildegarde and Grey Feather were wed, the first of many such unions, and went on to bear the world’s first hippogriffs; a sign from Eagle Father and the Cat Mother that the bond between Griffon and Pegasus is truly blessed.
☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁
“And they lived happily ever after. The End.” Twilight closed the book. “So what did you girls think?”
“I thought it was romantic.” Sweetie’s expression turned thoughtful. “But how do you kiss someone with a beak?”
“Carefully, Sweetie.” Rainbow unconsciously pursed her lips. “Very carefully.”
“I thought it taught an important lesson about friendship and not judging others.” Apple Bloom nodded. “Right, Scootaloo?”
The girls turned to Scootaloo who fidgeted. “...I guess the part where she busted free of those chains was kinda cool,” she acceded. “And how she kicked Commander Hurricane’s tail to save Grey Feather, that was pretty awesome. Even if was kinda mushy,” she added, making a face.
Rainbow stood up and ushered the fillies towards the door. “C’mon, girls. Twilight Time’s over. Dinner time is now.”
“One last thing, Rainbow,” Twilight laid a hoof on Scootaloo shoulder. “So, do you know what you're going to do the next you see your griffon classmate?”
The filly thought for a moment then nodded. “Yup. I totally know what to do. Rainbow, can we skip Sven’s house? I want to apologize myself tomorrow.”
Sven was enjoying lunch on his second day at school seated at a bench with the other colts from class. They’d been most impressed that he’d managed to win a fight with the toughest filly in school. However, for his part, Sven felt embarrassed.
After he’d arrived home yesterday, his parents had scolded him about fighting with ponies. These were their new neighbors, after all, and it would not do to make a poor impression. Wing language was different between griffons and pegasi, and he had likely made a fool of himself. It was rather confusing, but he hoped she’d accept his apology. Just as he thought about her, the same little pegasus marched up to his table and grabbed the orange from his tray.
“Hey, kid.” She wore a clear challenge across her face. Tossing his fruit up and down, she flared her wings proudly, and he felt his blood rise at the display. “If you want this back, you’re gonna have to catch me.” With a wink and a cocky smile, she became a cloud of dust in the distance.
And a new hunt was on.
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Wow. There's a lot here to love, from the griffon beliefs to Scootaloo's understanding of the story to Dash not knowing how to operate the scooter. (Seriously, I love to see that last one. And the steering doesn't make any sense.)
In all, a great job and a great read. Thank you for it.
The shipper in me wants more.
But the reader in me recognizes a quality ending to a high-quality fic.
Another marvelous story, Seether. Don't really know what else to add, but... Oh yes, your description of Twilight's dance was absolutely marvelous and taught me a cool new trick I can use when needed.
Great story, here.
"Writes at the speed of molasses." I'm with you there, brother.
5383225 5383756
5383071
Thanks. I wanted to do something different instead of the usual 'Griffons are the bad guys' kinda thing. I still don't know how Scootaloo steers that thing. Heck, we've seen her go in reverse.
5383541
The first paragraph is always the issue. Blank Gdocs are intimidating.
Very nice piece of world building, I thoroughly enjoyed it!
Most enjoyable. And if you pick up on this idea again, somewhere down the line, I am there.
I like your lore. Very entertaining. If I had kids I'd make it a bedtime story.
5383835
I am glad you enjoyed it. It was a good exercise in world building for me. We know next to nothing about the Griffons. Hopefully more will come at some point.
5383994
That is exactly the style I was shooting for.
Woohoo. Headcannon accepted.
5384067
Corrected. Thanks.
Small issues in this one:
whomsoever returns to King’s. And missing a quotation mark at the end of that sentence
Need a quotation mark to end that sentence.
Same
As for the story itself, really glad to finally get around to something from you. It's certainly a fun piece that really captures the characters well. There's no question who's who in their actions and voice, it all comes through marvellously well. The story within the story was also very well told, the language there showing the style one would expect.
*Snerks*
Nice.
This sounds 100% accurate for what one would expect of a dance originating from catbirds.
Did you borrow the Eagle Father and Cat Mother from Augie, or are they from elsewhere that I haven't seen yet?
So, yeah, in the end, really liked this a lot. Well earned up and fav.
How does one fire a bow with no arrows? (Reference to the cover art.)
5384182
Huh. The typos appear to be reproducing like rabbits. Anyway, yes, Augie's story was an influence. I believe others have also used the concept of the Eagle Father and Cat Mother, but his is the one that sticks in my mind.
Old school home-made scooters were often made with skate wheels nailed to a plank with a box at the front. You steared the same way you stear a skateboard. They were a popular thing up until about the 50s. Remember that scene in Back to the Future, where Marty takes the scooter thing, rips the box off the front and rides it like a skateboard? Those thing actually did exist.
Scootaloo's scooter is just a more modern variation. Look up "skeeter skate".
5383773 Here is a trick to get over the intimidating aspect of a blank document.
Write a scene that you have already fleshed out in your head, then go back and write the beginning of the passage. It works for some people. It might work for you.
5384336
Huh... that's actually a good idea. I'll try it out. Thanks.
A story within a story, explaining lore and such was really quite nice. Also liked that ending, it was cute.
5384214
Like I said before:
It's nice to see Cat Mother and Eagle Father getting out and about. A fun, fun story here!
Mike
5384196
Magic. Nuff said
Amazing story. Liked and faved. Very much enjoyed. And I love what scoots did in the end.
your story has reached a new rank:
hale’s own!
(basically god, gg m8, luv’d it)
Well done. You have earned yourself a favorite, and possibly a follower
5384479
On the next episode: The Eagle Father and Cat Mother go on a road trip.
CM: We've passed that same tree three times already! Just admit you're lost and ask for directions.
EF: I am not lost! I don't need directions! Quiet, woman!
CM: Mother was right about you!
It was cute. Had a good "vintage" angle to it, wich worked well..
With the title i expected to drop this derpicdn.net/img/2013/12/6/490827/full.jpeg
as a joke, but the story went with it first! Hopefully the rest of the.. "lesson" will have flown way above Scoot's head.
This was cute, I liked it a lot.
A creative and charming work.
Awesome story bro! It was good from start to finish, but like all good things it had to end. I would love to see
MOAAAR
I normally can't stand things that deal with griffons, or griffons as a whole for that matter. (They are definitely not my favorite race in the MLP universe) However, this story is absolutely beautiful, and the entire tale of Hildegarde and Grey Feather was my favorite part, such a tender story...
This story actually makes me like the griffon race just a bit more. Thank you for writing this beautiful tale. 
we need a Griffon(s) tag.
5385553
And when:
The little griffonlets in the back start mewling and squawking, Ma and Pa can threaten to pull this whole metaphysical reality over to the side if they don't shut their beaks!
Mike
Hmmm...
Not sure if it was The Power of Love, or if the Cat-Mother & Eagle-Father thing has some truth to it.
Either way, cool story.
5386070
The power of love is a curious thing
Make a one man weep, make another man sing
Change a hawk to a little white dove
More than a feeling that's the power of love
I had logged off already, when I saw this is the feature box. I HAD to log back in to favorite, upthumb and save the chapters for later reading.
Any time I see "Griffin" and "Romance" I am all over that.
5386088 And I'm old enough to have heard that song on the radio.
There needs to be more griffon love in this world. I like the background you've given on the culture of the catbirds. Looking forward to more griffon stuff in the future!
"away from the"
Extra "the" here
"an embarrassed"
Sounds like something designed by Star Swirl.
5387824
Yup, yup. In total agreement. Working on something right now, actually.
5387845
Some styles transcend cultures. Who wouldn't want more bells?
I believe Star Swirl once responded to an invitation to the Griffon Court with, "I'd love to come. I'll be right over with bells on."
5387845 Oh Starswirl didn't desing his wears. He said to have "found" them. Maybe it was from a griffin troubadour lost luggage.
The talk of a race between the Sky King and RD made me wonder if it would be a fair race if she was in her supercharged Rainbow Power form. But even Rainbow Dash is too responsible to unleash unfathomable cosmic power just for a silly contest.
A good story well-told with a decent moral. That ending was perfect.
5388444
would, but from the images of the new castle in those sketch sneakpeaks made it look like they'd be realeasing phenomenal cosmic power every other day. Besides, if King Aether is the aspect of the wind, the fastest pegasus powered up to a level that has more raw power and less affinity should be fair.
Little Miss
'Us', not 'as'.
'Iron talon' and 'brass hoof' don't need to be hyphenated here. I believe those are only used for descriptors that have an unusual air about them, such as the 'winged-deer' descriptor you used later in this chapter.
'What need have I for a mate?'
'At the King's proclamation,'
One too many 'and's', there.
The 'the' I underlined there should be deleted.
Little bit of a misappropriation regarding 'claw' and 'talon'. With griffons, their forehands, despite their scaly, avian appearance, are still colloquially referred to as 'paws' as far as I'm aware of, while their talons are their nails. It should be that she held Hurricane up with the strength of one paw, and that she extended her talons with deadly intent.
Should be either 'and went on to bear to the world the first hippogriffs;' or 'and went on to bear the world's first hippogriffs;'
Should be a question mark at the end there, instead of a period. And it should be 'the next time you see...'. I would also have Twilight say Scootaloo's name to add weight to her question: 'So, Scootaloo, do you know what you're going to do the next time you see your griffon classmate?"
Apart from those minor errors, I thought this was a great story overall. It had some really nice world-building for griffons and I loved your take on how peace was established between the griffons and ponies. I read in one of your comments to someone else that you've got another griffon-centered story in the works. Gotta say that I'm looking forward to reading that; there's a serious lack of good griffon-centered stories on this site.
*Grins* Very cute and fun as always. Bravo.
5389985
5389637
Corrected!
*scratches head* How did I miss these? Oh well. Yes, there needs to be more griffon-centric stories. Griffons are the best. Better than the rest.
You know, I think everything about this story might have been perfect. The Dash & Scootaloo interaction, Twilight Time, Twilight's dance, the neat backstory, the brotherhood of the sky between the pegasi and the gryphons, everything. And especially Scootaloo's interpretation of the lesson.
Excellent job with this, Seether.
Headcanon accepted.
And Scootaloo learned her lesson, sort of.
svootalo
She sounds totally hot! I'd love to roost in that nest if ya know what I mean!
*in the long-distant past, Hildegarde gets a sudden sensation of looming terror...*