• Published 12th Jan 2012
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Days of Wasp and Spider - Luna-tic Scientist



No humans. In Equestria's past, ponies exist only to serve their creators. One such pony is accidentally released from her mental chains, but how can one mare save herself and her people if she doesn't even know she's a slave?

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06 - ...but you can't take the raptor out of the gryphon.

Days of Wasp and Spider
by Luna-tic Scientist

Author's note: this chapter contains some graphic violence.

Could it face that again? To what end? It knew it could build a new home, but what then? There was nothing left to do, nothing new left to discover. The Pattern bent its considerable intellect to the problem and eventually found a solution it could live with... in a way. What had to happen was that it needed to become less than it was. It inspected its creation looking for a possible starting point; the creature had to be large enough to accommodate some small fraction of the Pattern, enough so it would still know something of itself.

There was a tunnel dweller, mainly bipedal, with long, clawed paws and an elongated head with heavy jaws. Some things had to be changed, of course; the brain case was too small and the forepaws didn't have the dexterity to be a tool user. Not yet, anyway.

=== Chapter 6 (remastered): ...but you can't take the raptor out of the gryphon. ===

Shock Diamond stood frozen with fear as the creature bore down upon him. A crazy mismatch of parts, half big cat and half monstrous bird, it galloped straight at him with wings flicking and tail lashing. Some small part of his mind noted the bulky equipment harness, armour vest and tubular device attached to one shoulder, that said this was a tool user and could be reasoned with. A far larger part saw the horn length talons on the forelegs and the cruel, sharp beak and was screaming run, run, RUN! Leg muscles locked solid he could only stare, mesmerised by the large, yellow eyes piercing his soul like the lights of an oncoming cargo floater.

When the lesson had started there had been no hint of the nightmare to come. Single Crystal, Base Pair and himself had joined the rest of the current crop of soon to be Blessed ponies for an evening practice session in some of the higher energy magics. Shepherded by Random Walk, they had all flown to the centre to investigate where they thought their special talents might lie; Shock had tested high for field effects and was eager to practice some of the more unusual types without the risk of further property damage.

That had not been his finest kilosecond. That field had been perfect -- spherical, strong and very thin -- but he'd not taken into account the nearby wall when he'd created the bubble. It had taken two adults to dig him out of the rubble; the structural supports were sliced cleanly where the field had passed through them. His parents had complimented him on his skill - then put him to work fixing the damage, banning any further experimentation outside of the training centre.

There was a subliminal thump from over his left shoulder and something flickered in front of his muzzle with a blur of motion. Ahead, only a few lengths from where he stood, the horn light of Phased Array vanished as she collapsed in a heap. Then the screaming really started. There had been shouts of panic when the creatures had dropped from the darkness to encircle the class -- apart from one who had misjudged his landing and scattered the herd -- but this was different. Phased's high-pitched keening wail cut through the ice in Shock's mind like the weather team clearing an unplanned rainstorm. The little blue colt bolted.

Dashing through the confused melee, Shock pumped his wings and became airborne. The wings of ponies his age were too short for them to be particularly fast fliers, but this, coupled with their light weight, made them immensely manoeuvrable. He caught a glimpse of his pursuer out of the corner of one eye; the thing had spread its wings and was closing the gap with frightening speed. The colt's wings blurred to humming-bird speeds as he tried to accelerate, but the monster was faster. A flash of talon and he turned on one wing-tip, evading the grab at the cost of a few indigo tail hairs. This gained him a few precious seconds and he dived around the side of the darkened training centre, momentarily out of sight.

Casting about desperately, he spotted that one of the maintenance hatches wasn't completely closed; he dove for it, hitting the door and slamming it fully open with a crash. Stunned for an instant, Shock Diamond rolled to a stop at the bottom of a steep set of metal stairs. He lay there panting in the darkness, eyes fixed on the pale shifting radiance coming through the open hatch. Something big and bird-like cast a momentary shadow across the opening. The colt let out an involuntary whinny, then clamped his forehooves over his muzzle in horror as something landed outside with a rush of feathers and a puff of grass-scented air.

There was the sound of claws scratching against the stone slabs that encircled the building, then for an instant there was the clear silhouette of a hook-beaked head against the reflected light. The head turned with a quick, jerky motion and appeared to scan the short corridor leading up to the stairs. The colt held his breath, hoping the near absolute darkness would hide him, but then the rest of the creature stepped forward, completely filling the opening and blocking its meagre illumination.

"Hey, pony, I'm not gonna--"

He didn't hear the rest. The raspy voice ran through Shock Diamond like a lightning bolt, and he wriggled to his hooves and scrambled up the stairs, slipping and sliding on the metal mesh. At the top he rammed an unseen wall head first and collapsed in a heap, knocked senseless for an instant. The world came back in a rush with the sound of something heavy stepping on to the bottom step. Shakily standing up, he generated a brief flash of light, then galloped through the first available opening. One more flash showed a narrow passageway lined with racks of silent machines arranged in an irregular pattern, shadowed alleyways opening between further racks and branching off into a room that appeared to occupy most of this floor. He couldn't see far before the passageway made a sharp turn to the left, and even that was rendered indistinct by the light haze of smoke hanging in the air. Closing his eyes against the irritant fog and trying to resist the urge to sneeze at the smell of burnt plastic, Shock extended his wings out and forwards. Letting the primary feathers brush against the metal shelves he trotted into the maze, taking turnings at random in total darkness. Behind him he could hear the creature step into the room and close the door.

"Come on, pony, don't make this harder than it has to be."

The voice echoed from the hard metal surfaces, sounding tired and irritated. Shock Diamond slowed to a hesitant walk, placing each hoof carefully and wincing with each hollow clop.

"This is pointless! I've got a detailed map and infra-red here, there's no way you can hide from me." The voice, horrifyingly close, had softened and become almost gentle. "Look I know you must be scared -- I would be in your place -- but you've nothing to fear from me."

This was too much for Shock. "Liar! You shot my friend!" he screamed, then lit his horn and cast around wildly, looking for a way to escape. Through a narrow gap between two racks he saw another door, bigger than the first he'd used, a dark shadow marking where the panels had parted slightly when the powered locks had failed. Leaping forward, he wedged himself into the gap, wings folded all the way back and twisting his shoulders frantically to get past the banks of equipment. The racks were quite deep; he'd managed to get his entire body into the gap, muzzle just poking into the far side, when he felt the scaly claw grip his trailing hoof. The colt whinnied in shock, jerking convulsively but completely failing to dislodge the iron hard grip.

"Got you, you little--"

Shock Diamond struggled violently, the sharp edges of the racks scoring unfelt scratches in his hide, but to no avail. Slowly he was drawn back out of his hiding place and, in desperation, he pushed backwards with his magic while kicking out as hard as possible with his hindlegs. There was a wordless yell and the sudden, complex sound of something falling into a stack of fragile instrumentation from behind him, then abruptly the pressure on his ankle vanished. Propelled forwards by his telekinetic shove, Shock popped free of the racks just as a taloned foreleg grasped at the space he'd just vacated. A brief backwards glance showed only a yellow eye, glittering with rage in his blue-white horn light. The eye's owner hissed loudly, wrapping its talons around the nearest rack and pulling violently. The whole stack moved slightly, its anchoring bolts pulling free of the floor with an ear-splitting metallic screech.

Trembling, Shock nosed through the double doors, then hesitated. He was standing on a landing halfway up a flight of stairs, with no clear indication what was above or below him. Down leads back out to the... things, up goes to the roof? He peered down into the dark, then up. At least that way there was some light, the same shifting, multicoloured glow he'd seen before. Biting his lips indecisively, the colt headed up the stairs, hooves suddenly silent on the richly carpeted floor. At the top was a large open space, a single big, circular room lined with wall to floor windows. Inside the floor was arranged things he'd only seen images of; the odd shapes of furniture designed for the Master's weird bipedal form amid rows of heavy looking desks.

The colt looked at the stairs and the inward opening doors at the bottom, a wild idea forming in his head. The desks were far too heavy to lift directly, but he could reduce their mass a little... Putting a shoulder against the nearest one, he lifted up with his magic and shoved as hard as possible, sending it tumbling down the stairs to rest against the doors. Just in time too, as something angry pounded on the other side. Heart in his mouth, Shock Diamond watched as the doors flexed and bowed with each impact, but the piece of office furniture had wedged itself against the bottom step, and the panels wouldn't open more than a hoof's width. Wasting no time, he started to back to get another table, when a yellow eye appeared at the narrow gap.

"Pony," the gravelly voice said tiredly, "I'm going to have to demolish this door, so I'd step back if I were you. Why don't you trot off and look for another exit?"

The blue colt stared in confusion. He's telling me to escape? he thought, then backed away nervously, suddenly worried by the lack of noise from the other side of the door. For a moment he contemplated trying his force bubble -- at least up here the walls were far enough away that he wouldn't destroy anything -- but then he'd be unable to escape if it wasn't strong enough. There was a series of bangs, so close together it was practically a single noise, then a tight cluster of holes appeared at the top corner of the door frame. Shock's eyes widened, those holes had pounded the upper hinge to scrap. He turned tail and ran, looking for a way out.

The room really did take up the whole top of the training centre building. Shock's gaze flickered around the room, looking for something, anything that might let him escape. A quick scan showed him nothing -- the central stairwell appeared to be the only way in or out -- but before he could run around the room for a closer look he was drawn to the moving glows outside the windows. Off in one of the distant pits he could see three ponies and a handful of bipedal shapes, but more interesting was what was happening at the base of the building. He could see the little horn glows of his class-mates, many in a tight herd guarded by the cat-bird things, but a few were still in the air and evading their much larger pursuers with some success. There was another burst of noise from the stairs, then another and another, followed by a crashing, ripping sound.

There was a dragging noise, then the sound of heavy steps on the stairs. The colt shrank back as a beaked head cautiously poked around the wall surrounding the stairwell, followed by the rest of the creature. Now, with any hope of escape gone, Shock Diamond's churning mind finally recalled a half remembered description of the military forces used by the Masters. The things were gryphons, the Hive's front line shock troops; aggressive, fast and deadly. He wracked his brain for any information he could use; they had no magic, that was obvious, but more than made up for that with claws and a vicious beak.

The gryphon stood at the top of the stairs, staring at the blue pony. "What's your name?" he said softly.

"Sh... Shock Diamond," the colt replied, cursing the hitch in his voice.

"I'm Adigard Alfgeir. You did good, colt, staying ahead of me like that. There's no shame in losing in a situation like this; you put up a good fight, that's what matters." The gryphon settled down on his haunches, starting to root around in his equipment harness. "Ah, here it is," he said, pulling out a tangled collection of slim plastic straps and meshwork. "Blasted things," he mumbled, giving it a shake and pulling at it with both foreclaws. "There we go. I'm sorry about this, but I'm going to have to bind your wings. Think of it as respect for a worthy opponent." Seeing Shock back away another few steps, the gryphon sighed and pulled the tube mounted on his back forward on a rail, grip the protruding handle in one claw and point it at a desk near the pony. A brilliant spot of green light appeared on the desk, followed by a loud thump and the shock of a heavy impact. The spot appeared on a chair on the other side of the colt and again there was the thump and impact, the chair spinning wildly on its pivot. A slim, dark grey cylinder, end flattened to the width of an adult's hoof and velocity almost spent, bounced away in a lazy arc. The little spot of light moved to Shock Diamond's chest and he cringed away, but it tracked him unerringly.

"I'm really good with this," Alfgeir said. "I don't want to shoot you, but I'm done chasing. Come here and I won't have to."

A flare of light distracted Shock before he could reply. His eyes were drawn to a pin-point of orange, bright enough to cast distorted shadows and leave multicoloured spots dancing in his vision. That's Random Walk, he thought, if anypony can help, it's her. Keeping one eye on their teacher, Shock walked slowly towards the gryphon, dragging his hooves as much as possible. A sudden rattle of gunfire, muffled by the windows, made him pause and the colt watched open mouthed as a square of light appeared between Random and one rapidly retreating gryphon, flickering in time with the shots. More light flashed and the gun was ripped out of the gryphon's beak, the soldier flung tumbling in a high arc.

"Ignore the light show, pony, let's get this over with." Alfgeir, who had been keeping his eyes on the colt, reached forward and grabbed Shock Diamond by the neck, dragging him the last few paces. In quick, practiced motions he dropped the harness on the pony's back, snapping the locks closed at throat, withers and hip, before pulling the straps as tight as they'd go. Putting two claws between the straps and Shock's coat he gave the contraption a tug. "Hmm, you're not quite the right shape and you're too small -- but I think this will do." He looked thoughtfully at the last part of the restraints, the part designed to stop its normally beaked occupant from biting, then snorted and detached it. Finally the gryphon pulled a short line from another pocket, clipping one end to his equipment harness and the other to the locking point between Shock's wing roots.

The gryphon relaxed somewhat, releasing his grip on the pony's indigo mane. The little colt had ignored him all through the fitting process, transfixed by the fight between Random and the other gryphon. Abruptly the pony stiffened, wings flaring uselessly against the mesh panels holding them down, then turned to Alfgeir with a look of desperation, one hoof pointing out the window.

"You've got to stop him, he's going to kill Random!"

The gryphon looked in that direction, just in time to see one of his squad-mates stamp heavily on the chest of a fallen pony. Cursing, he held down the button connecting him to his sersjant, then spoke rapidly before the other could acknowledge.

Shock Diamond didn't hear a word of what his captor said, his mind was too full of the horror unfolding outside. Unable to blink or look away, he watched the gryphon bend down and take a firm grip on Random's wing with his beak.

===

Gunnulf glided into the darkness, the mad, noisy rush of his initial velocity quickly bleeding away to the steady soaring pace his kind were known for. Through the display on his visor - already flashing flight path commands and a search zone -- he could see the shadowed landscape, all gentle rolling hills and patches of woodland interspersed with unnaturally dark buildings. A few points of light broke the darkness, multicoloured candle-flames illuminating quadrupedal forms in strange ways and casting monstrous shadows against the single large, cylindrical building at the centre of the target area. Glancing around to check the positions of his squad-mates, he reached back with his left claw to unfold his autogun's forward controller, pulling the gun forward on its track to click into 'ready' position, the controller's bite trigger next to his beak. Another flick selected the high velocity standard ammo rather than the fat, slow 'nonlethal' antipersonnel thumpers, then he was back to scanning his designated zone for anything hostile.

Two taps on his chest control pack opened a synthetic view in the visor over Gunnulf's left eye, a polychromatic false colour image to add to the targeting reticule the gun already supplied. Bright sparks of red marked both herds of ponies, barely perceptible pulses of violet flickering between them from the magic that always seemed to surround them. He could also see the Masters, dark bipeds embedded in glittering polygons of purple light, taking up positions around the smaller of the two herds. There was nothing else. No movement, no heat sources, no crystal thaumic signature, no electromagnetic leakage. His command collar vibrated twice in its silent 'combat mode', then a synthesised voice spoke in his earbud.

"Orders revised: no hostile forces expected, contain all pony or civilian contacts for immediate collection by Hive Security."

Gunnulf growled deep in his throat. Typical, knew it was too good to be true, he thought bitterly.

Stowing the autogun -- trying to land with a beak on one's bite trigger was a recipe for friendly fire -- Gunnulf 'whiffled', tilting over suddenly to spill air from his wings and loose height rapidly. Below him the ponies were milling about in one of the flat areas between the circular pits, maybe two dozen in total, most seeming smaller than he remembered. They seemed skittish, the little horn glows visible to his unaugmented right eye moving chaotically.

The gryphon's beak parted in a cold smile. Let me at least give them something to remember us by, Gunnulf thought with savage glee.

Whiffling again, he dropped forty bodylengths in a couple of seconds, wings biting air just above the ground and letting him land with a sudden crash close to the herd of ponies. Perhaps too close, he realised, as most of the small forms scattered with high-pitched whinnies. Aw crap, he thought, that's torn it, as his squad-mates spread out to catch the fleeing ponies. A confused babble of commands were already starting to sound in his earbud, but so overlapped that he couldn't make anything distinctive out. Orders are orders: immediately and no high velocity. Squatting back on his haunches, Gunnulf pulled his autogun back into its firing position, gripping the forward controller with one foreclaw while the other flicked the feed from standard to nonlethal. He'd just settled the reticule on one of the fleeing figures when a heavy impact knocked him back onto his tail.

"In the Master's name, what do you think you're doing!? They're only foals."

This came from one of the few ponies not to gallop off away from the gryphons. It was bigger than the rest, but not quite up to the size of an adult, Gunnulf realised. This pony, with tan coat and a short black mane, had just shoulder barged him. Him! A sudden blinding fury filled him and Gunnulf reared up and snapped his free foreclaw out to catch the insolent herbivore on the side of its stupid head. The open clawed slap bowled the lighter pony horn over hooves into the grass, where it lie there and didn't move. Kicking the fallen pony with one hindpaw, Gunnulf turned away from the motionless figure and brought his gun back up.

"Come to me, my little pony," he crooned, dropping the reticule over one of the foals, its faint, flickering horn light providing a perfect aiming marker. This one swayed back and forth on its hooves, seeming uncertain as to what it should do, shadows swelling and shrinking as its head swung from side to side in confusion. His claw stroked lovingly on the trigger and the gun bucked once, the shot startlingly loud even over the sound of the gryphons chasing the other ponies. The figure dropped to the ground and curled in on itself, screaming with a high pitched wail that ripped through the air like an attack siren.

Gunnulf grinned. "Bit of a challenge next, I think," he muttered. Swinging the autogun around he settled the cross-hairs on a running foal, one keeping a few paces ahead of its pursuer. Despite the uncertain light, the combination of his predators' eyesight and his visor's enhancements meant he could clearly see the terror on the little filly's face, her eyes wide as she dodged her much larger hunter yet again. "You are an agile little thing, aren't you? Still, I'm here to help my friends..." His autogun thundered and the pony tumbled to an untidy heap without a sound.

Suddenly, a blur of bright, orange light filled his gunsight. Pulling his head away from the autogun Gunnulf hissed in irritation, wondering which of his squad-mates had been stupid enough to walk into his line of fire. Beak dropping open in amazement, he saw the young pony he'd knocked down just a clawfull of seconds ago. It, no, she, was standing there on splayed, shaky legs, an expression of almost mindless rage on a face made demonic by the fierce orange light that burned at the tip of her horn. Blood, appearing black in that lurid glow, flowed freely down the side of her muzzle from the three gouges that tracked from just below her horn, across the side of her face and down her neck.

Bringing the autogun down from his shoulder, Gunnulf levelled it at the pony, the stubby, paw sized muzzle pointing squarely at her chest.

"Try that on somepony closer to your own size, you monster!" she spat, blood spraying in a fine mist where it flowed over her mouth and nostrils. The pony advanced towards him, stiff-legged with fury.

Gunnulf's grin returned, wider than ever. "Works for me -- shooting your foals was getting boring anyhow." With one quick motion he flicked the feeder to its other magazine and pulled back hard on the trigger.

The gryphon's autogun was a marvel of the modern age. A clever fusion of science and crystal thaumic systems, its superconducting magnetic barrel could take anything from the fat, bean-bag 'non-lethal' thumpers to claw sized hypersonic tungsten needles, able to punch a hole through a paw's width of armour ceramic. Couple that to a shock mount that distributed the recoil force over the whole of a gryphon's body and a fire control system that could dynamically alter the exit trajectory of each projectile... The result was a gun that could fire a ten round burst in less than a hundred milliseconds and put each bullet through the same hole, all while the wielder was running or flapping around the battlefield. That would rely on the first shot being accurate, of course, so what the gun actually did was to place those ten rounds in a nice, horizontal line centred on the aim point.

That being the case, Gunnulf had every right to expect that the pony would drop bonelessly to the ground, almost cut in half by his fire. The gryphon's eyes bulged as a sloped plain of orange light flickered into being, its pulses in time with the stuttering roar of his shots. Dirt flew up where the rounds were deflected into the ground.

The figure grunted as if it had been punched, but didn't stop advancing. "You think I'm stupid?" the pony hissed in a tone that sent shivers racing down Gunnulf's spine. "Let's see how you like it!"

Gunnulf transferred the autogun's forward controller to his beak and back pedalled rapidly to get away from the enraged thing in front of him. The small part of his mind that wasn't panicking was wondering how he, a heavily armed soldier -- a predator for the Maker's sake -- was running from a pony. He got off another few bursts, all of which were deflected harmlessly, before an orange nimbus appeared around his gun's barrel, yanking the controller out of his beak with brutal force. Still attached by the recoil mount he could only close his eyes and turn away as the glow brightened suddenly. Flickers of white and the smell of burning insulation caused him to glance back at the gun; the orange glow was still there, but it was joined by blue electrical sparks as the barrel was systematically crushed and the superconductors shorted out.

With a curse, Gunnulf slapped the quick release and jumped at the pony, talons extended to rip out her throat. They'd trained to fight force field protected enemies; what mattered was the total momentum of the impactor. Gunnulf didn't understand the maths but knew the results -- a portable field that could stop a small, high velocity bullet would fail when struck by a big, slow object. He passed through where the field had been, talons hungrily reaching for pony flesh, but not quite making it. An orange haze surrounded him, held him in a soft yet unyielding grip that was like wearing a form-fitting suit of steel lined with foam rubber. A sudden push, so hard his vision greyed out, sent him tumbling beak over tail feathers across the battlefield in a high ballistic arc.

With a shake of the head he cleared his vision, wings stroking rapidly to stop the tumble. Trading this free height for speed he dived, turning in a tight spiral to hit the pony from behind. For a few long seconds he had a wide view over the training centre, dark shapes were chasing down the remaining foals and herding them into a milling cluster inside one of the pits, then he was upon his target. The stupid creature had turned her back on him and he flashed in to hit her squarely between hindquarters and withers, a strike that would break her back and end this cleanly.

Gunnulf had never actually dived on living prey before, if he had he would have paid more attention to the mare's wide spread eyes that let her see almost straight backwards. She saw him at the last instant, a subliminal flicker that spoke to her hindbrain and dropped her to the ground. These ancient reflexes from before her kind had been tampered with saved the pony's life; the blow that should have killed her instantly instead knocked her tumbling across the grass, cutting a fresh set of claw-marks across her back in the process.

Twisting his wings, Gunnulf dumped his forward velocity, turning sharply to land a few paces from the prone pony. She was lying on her left side, horn light dimmed and flickering erratically, legs kicking weakly and eyes rolled back in her head. The gryphon hurriedly leapt forward to finish her, his beak wide and reaching for her throat, but hesitated for a fraction of a second when he saw that eye roll forward and focus on him. Too late he saw the now horribly familiar orange haze and felt a sudden pressure on his head, just as if the quartermaster had given him a too tight helmet. The rest of his body was free to move though, and he dug his foreclaws and hindpaws into the dirt, beating his wings in a frantic effort to escape. Nothing worked; it was like his head was embedded in a block of invisible concrete. Trapped, was his last coherent thought, as panic rose up within him.

Helplessly, he watched the pony climb to her hooves, his eyes casting wildly about for his squad-mates. No help was forthcoming; the foals were leading the rest of the soldiers a merry dance. Many had been herded together and were held in a frightened huddle, cowed by the three gryphons standing over them. Unfortunately, the rest had scattered widely, all taking to the air to avoid their hunters. This had the effect of making the gryphons chase them down individually -- you couldn't use a thumper on an airborne pony and expect it to land safely. In a straight flight the gryphons were faster, but the ponies were more manoeuvrable; the result was an aerial game of tag that looked to last for at least another few tenth kiloseconds. The glow around Gunnulf's head flared and the gryphon was slammed down to the ground, lifted up and slammed down again.

By the fourth impact he'd given up trying to scream, the telekinetic beating had driven all the air from his lungs. His armour stopped the impacts from breaking bones, but did nothing to block the pain. Gunnulf was just starting to slide into blissful oblivion when it stopped and he was flipped upside down and lifted high into the air. In sudden realisation knew what was going to happen next; the extra height would translate into extra speed and he'd be driven head first into the ground like a talon into a rotten log. No way his armour would protect him from that. Wide eyed with terror he stared down at the pony in desperation and horror. Please don't, he pleaded, but the words died still-born when he saw the rage and complete lack of intelligence in her eyes.

"Yes, Master."

In Gunnulf's desperate state the hoarse voice was barely audible, the distant tones sounding like they were from the bottom of a well, but the instant he heard it the orange glow faded and he was rotated right side up and dumped on the ground in a heap of feathers and fur. Someone was babbling from his command collar, but his earbud had become dislodged and his ears were still ringing and he couldn't make it out. Shaking his head to clear his vision, Gunnulf struggled to his paws and staggered towards the pony. She was just standing there, staring at him with fury in her eyes, but her horn remained dark as he approached.

Tentatively he stepped forward, reaching out to nudge the pony with point of one talon. She flinched, but didn't even turn her head to look at him. Gunnulf started to laugh as he realised what must have happened, then savagely lashed out with his foreleg to sweep her hooves out from under her. The pony landed heavily and Gunnulf reared up and brought his foreclaws down on her chest with as much force as he could manage. Something gave with a sickening crack under his weight, the pony giving a strangled gasp as her breath wheezed out. Savouring the moment he stared down at her for a second, blood welling up where his talons dug into the big muscles on either side of her right wing root

Gunnulf reached down to grip the pony's wing elbow in his beak, blood coating his tongue where its razor edges cut through the thin, feathered skin. He pulled back and twisted, a greasy click, more felt than heard, marking the dislocation of the pony's wing joint. Under his body she twitched then bucked, a breathless whinnying scream muffled by the dirt in her muzzle. The gryphon released the mare's wing, bending down to strop his beak and leaving bloody streaks on her fur in an action unchanged from his raptor ancestors.

"Flysoldat Athils Gunnulf, stand down!" That bellow of a voice was from of his sersjant and at any other time he would have obeyed without question. This time, however, the violence, hunger and the proximity of helpless prey had flicked some set of ancient switches in the gryphon's head and he ignored it like you would a fly. He took a fresh grip on her wing, just below the shoulder this time, tensing his neck and forelegs in preparation for the convulsive heave that would pull the limb fully off.

Blue-white lightning flashed from under his command collar, accompanied by a harsh buzzing crackle and the smell of burning feathers. Nervous system well and truly jammed, Gunnulf went into a seizure, muscles spasming and beak opening by reflex. He tumbled off the pony, twitching and jerking but unable to scream as the pain went on and on until he finally blacked out.