4 - Shared Justice
For two weeks after I ended things with Iron, I did my patrols under penalty of death. The whole time, I was ironically alone, which only reminded me of how fake of a thing time was. Thirteen, seventeen, twenty: The numbers that were given to days kept increasing, but what were they counting up to? August? Then what?
Technically, I had to make some home preparations for August—the biggest of which was a big fire to keep any sort of horny, flight-capable things from the Jägerwald from paying me a visit. That necessity didn’t bother me compared to how, since I was away from my home so often, it might turn into a territorial dispute anyway. Plus, there were trees below me; I couldn’t risk leaving a bonfire unattended for hours at a time.
So really, my life was being turned into a situation where I was being forced out of my home due to how I was stuck being a guard seventy miles away. The simplest solution, in a logical sense, was alluring, but I knew it was just bait for a trap.
If I wanted to live in Farrington, I’d be looking at having at least half of my monthly wages going towards paying for a room. At least. Then, there was the whole “not technically a citizen” thing, which I wasn’t sure how that worked—but even if I wanted to fix that, I was sure it’d cost money.
All of those problems put a notable dent in my convictions of setting aside money to live somewhere else. I’d face the same problems there, too, unless I made my home closer to that city.
For the time being, I set aside all the money I could into my growing pile of coin sacks. I’d think of something when the time came.
However, with my dream of travel slowly dying, my patrols became more and more monotonous and unfulfilling. The only real breaks I had from that gray, cobblestone blur were my sergeant, my reading, and my lunches.
Sergeant Scales, against all protocols or whatever, decided it wasn’t worth it to be a jerk to me. He was married and I’d had enough inter-rank romance to last me two lifetimes, so it didn’t really progress past a passing friendliness. Still, twice every day when I got my morning orders and evening dismissals, he at least tried to set a positive tone.
Over the two weeks after ending things with Iron, I tried three separate times to send a letter to Dash. I wanted to catch up with her, but I also had to explain everything that I’d done.
The first time, I had crumpled up the blank paper and apologized to Sergeant Scales, who had chuckled about it. The second time, I had managed a “Hey Dash” before I quit. After my third failed attempt at trying to find the words to explain everything, my sergeant had given me an awkward, hesitant smile before asking, “Uh... do you need help... with the words?”
I’d chuckled. Through some of Father’s family-wide lessons, all of my siblings had a cursory understanding of the three griffin languages. He had singled me out to learn Equestrian.
Still, even with all those languages, I didn’t know any combination of words that could get my point across to Dash—especially since we only shared the one language. After I had to decline my sergeant’s help, I took it as a sign to write that letter on my own time, then get it mailed.
Other than failing at writing, two or three nights a week, I got to butcher my tribe’s mythologies at Farrington General Hospital. It was one of the most enjoyable forms of emotional torture I’d ever endured. If they didn’t kill one another, Father would probably want to meet Sherry one day.
Despite how much they loved me and my culture, they were kids. Who were sick. They should’ve had their whole lives ahead of them... but because of some freak mining accident or something, the rest of their lives were lucky to be measured in months instead of years. Getting too attached would only end in pain.
However, as much as I tried not to, as much as I reminded myself that I was leaving soon, I couldn’t help but like the little guys. They were just too cute. I knew their names, their favorite colors, and two or three nights a week, I knew not to break down crying when they told me about their dreams of “one day, if I get better...”
A much more stable form of entertainment—one between peers, one that didn’t have imminent death hanging over it—were my lunches at my favorite diner. It was near the center of town, where the two main streets of Farrington intersected. That meant there was a good chance that my patrol would pass through a point that was close enough to let me get lunch there. I wasn’t stupid about the need for random patrols, either; I went there almost every day, but I’d throw my own schedule around by showing up as early as eleven or as late as three.
Spotlight—the pale pink mare who waitressed there almost constantly—took a while to forgive me after Starfall’s duel. Within a week, her boredom during the non-lunch rush overcame her, we talked about the duel, then some other things, and eventually she became probably the closest thing I had to a friend in that city.
Her mom had wanted her to be a miner like the rest of the family, but Spotlight maintained that her destiny lay all the way over in Manehattan as a show mare. She worked at the diner to save up for moving there which, given my current situation, I could definitely respect.
However, even days where I went to all three places, my sergeant, my diner, and my reading only took up about four hours of the eleven I spent in the city. The remaining seven were spent on my patrols, walking in circles, and trying to figure out ways to avoid getting trapped in Farrington when I was so close to leaving.
Every time I thought about leaving and what I would do outside that city, I always came back to Dash. Even though I tried to brainstorm what to send her in a letter, every time it came back to the same thing: I needed to visit her and tell her, face-to-face, about a dark secret.
Which was kind of how this whole thing started in the first place, I noted. I had the mottled-white stripe to prove it.
However, this time, my entry price to Ponyville was slightly higher. At the same time, I also didn’t really care about apologizing anymore. That came from pride, and there was something about having an entire city hate you that beat that notion out of you. So, if I apologized and they did still hate me? I’d probably have to ask Dash where to go from there, but I didn’t have anything to lose.
Still, I decided it would be best to wait until I knew for certain about Starfall’s condition—the one I had put him into. It would be crucial for telling Dash, since there was a difference between sending someone to the hospital and giving someone a permanent disability. That led me to realize how, if I told her about Starfall, I’d have to tell her about Stormglider. Even if that had been a lot less deliberate, it definitely had been permanent.
I didn’t know how I was going to bring all of that up to Dash, especially all in the same visit, so I filed it under the growing “list of things I needed to do in Ponyville.” I’d deal with that whole train of thought when I started making plans to go there.
For now, I was stuck as a guard. I walked lap after lap, day after day, waiting for either lunch or dismissal. For two weeks, other than the fleeting hours I spent eating or speaking to a room full of death, my life felt as hollow and empty as the three years I had spent alone in my cave.
* * *
On Monday, July 24, at a quarter past eleven, it had been two weeks since my breakup with Iron. I tried not to think of him very much, but I did. I tried to stay mad at him, but like everything in my life, that just cooled off into a sense of emptiness.
I turned a corner. Five more until I completed my route.
Instead of focusing on it, I used it to fuel an “indifferent” demeanor. That was how guards were supposed to act, after all, and it helped. Slowly but surely, ponies were once again starting to ignore me.
Another corner. Halfway done with lap number seven.
I was hungry, but I wanted to wait until later. The hours between eleven and one were the worst times for a crowd; Spotlight could talk more if I went to her diner when it was empty.
When I was almost to the end of the street, an older magenta mare stepped out from a side alley and made a beeline straight for me. Instinctively, I began taking note of distinctive features: her saddlebags had a strange insignia stitched into them, which included some of the same lettering that was on the bottom of my baton. Her bright white mane was tied up in a sharp, tight tail.
As she got closer to me, I saw that the fur on her left side was broken by what looked like a long, thin scar that ran back from her forelimb socket, under her saddlebag, and all the way back to her hip. And finally, her cutie mark: a sword with a dagger blade where a hilt should have been.
“You act like you’ve never seen me without my armor,” Sherry mused as she turned sharply and started walking alongside me, on the right.
I did a double-take at her voice, but then her color and hazel eyes locked it all into place. “I haven’t,” I answered truthfully. I didn’t know what she wanted, but given how our last interaction turned out, I didn’t want to risk pissing her off. My talons were growing back, but it’d be awhile before they were long enough to be usable.
“So, how have you been keeping?” Her question was neutral, but her voice’s tone was way too nice.
I shrugged “The usual.” My right eye wandered back to her side; now that we were closer, curiosity got the better of me, and I wanted to get a better look at—
“You like my little souvenir?” I looked back at her face, and she grinned viciously. “Stalliongrad Politsya’s rough on a good day. But when a mafia boss calls in a blood favor with a necromancer, you get to watch all your comrades die before they get back up and come after you. Re-killing them can be fun, if you know what they were, but it doesn’t do much for your good looks.”
I raised an eyebrow at the story, but I knew better than to press the matter. She hadn’t tracked me down to talk to me about her past. “What do you want, Sherry?”
Her grin strained into a thin line. “Is that how you want to be?”
I turned the corner on my patrol, and she sped up to keep next to me. Then I admitted, “We don’t have any good sayings about it, but common sense in my tribe is to avoid bigger predators.”
That response drew a deep, hard laugh out of her. “That’s the problem with you predators. Pride always gets in the way of logic.” She looked over at me, and unlike the week we patrolled together at the start of my career, we were eye-level now that she wasn’t wearing her boots. “It’s the defensive herbivores you’ve got to look out for. I mean, dragons prefer to eat rocks.”
We walked in silence for a little bit before she added, “But even dragons can get shot down if you’ve got enough artillery.” She waved upwards, above us, where I could see the outline of one of the four watchtowers that were placed in each of the main districts of Farrington. “You ever hear about the dragon that wiped out half this city in some sort of attempt to prove something?”
I looked around; none of the houses really seemed newer than the others. “Nope.”
“That’s because, forty years ago, they shot it down before it got the chance.”
The timeline of her story made me turn my head. “I thought you only came here like twenty years ago?”
“That’s the sort of thing that makes international headlines. But it’s not the sort of thing that we brag about, either.”
So why tell me?
My answer came before I could ask it, though. “And I’m not saying that to brag, or even as a threat. Just to tell you, when you come to this city and plan to do harm... don’t take it personally if you hit the city’s defenses.”
“You cut my talons off,” I argued. “That’s pretty personal.”
She chuckled. “Depends where you stick your fingers.” I scowled at her, and she raised an innocent eyebrow. “What? They do that out east. Aren’t they the more civilized griffins?”
“Where’s your horn?” I spat back. “Can’t Equestrians do magic?”
That shut her up for a whole city block before we turned onto a new street. “Well, I won’t apologize for it; the whole idea was it was supposed to be slightly embarrassing and make you remember. Besides, they’ll probably be back about the same that Starfall’s wing heals, right?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know how long it’s going to take him to heal. All I know is the day he is...” I shook my head. I wasn’t going to explain myself to her, of all ponies.
Sherry picked up where I trailed off. “So, you’re running away?”
“Away?” The word came out as hollow as I felt. I looked at her and honestly asked, “Away from what?”
She smiled sadly. “Are you at least going to say goodbye to Iron before you skip town?”
I occupied the next few seconds by looking around, making sure no one was breaking any laws. However, the Residential District was quiet, which forced me to think about her question a little. The first answer that came to mind was, “I don’t have anything to say to him.”
“And that’s how that ends?”
“What else is there?” I turned to her and shrugged. Having to think about the whole situation just... stung, so I pushed it out of my mind. Or at least, I tried to; failing that, I fought to keep my face straight.
“I’m not going to answer that,” Sherry said. “So instead, I’ll remind you your reading’s only one of the four parts to your punishment. Do you remember the other three?”
I held up a gauntlet and counted, “Fine, which I paid. Talons, which you took...” After a pause, I remembered, “And apology to that one guy.”
Sherry shook her head. “The talons weren’t official. But you still haven’t apologized to Officer Weatherly?”
“How?” I asked. I didn’t know anything about him, other than how he was stationed on the wall and, apparently, his name was Officer Weatherly.
She raised an eyebrow at me. “Well, you can form words to ask that question, so you know how to talk...” She paused, apparently deciding it wasn’t worth it to berate me. “As for when and where, you met him on-duty; his shift is from eight to four. If you need any more help...” She tapered off again, this time, only hypothetically insulting me.
“I’ll do it tomorrow, after reading.”
“Good.” Sherry nodded. “And don’t half-ass it. If I find out you’re faking apologies, I’ll take my old unit back from Horatio just so I can mess with your schedule.”
I didn’t like her threat, but I got hung up on, “Apologies? As in, plural?”
“As in plural,” she agreed. “Remember what I said when I told you to hang onto Starfall’s knife?”
My contempt escaped in a nasal sigh. I still had his knife. I didn’t want to hold onto it, but I didn’t want to apologize while I was giving it back. He started a fight with me, so, “No.”
Sherry turned to me with a slow, calculating look.
I continued, “I can’t be sincere, ‘cause I don’t feel sorry for that. He picked a fight because he’s got problems; he wouldn’t listen when I came here to talk, so now he’s crippled like his wife? How’s that not his fault?”
She looked forward and took a deep breath. “Wasn’t that the justification he used for ripping a filly’s wings off in the first place? ‘She came in our borders, how is that not her fault?’”
I lurched to a stop because her words felt like they slammed into my stomach. How the hell does she know my father?
Sherry turned around after walking past me; slowly, her expression turned into a triumphant grin. “So I’m right. You do know who did it.”
I blinked. “Forget me. How do you know who did it?”
She pointed at herself. “I don’t know who, only that it was an adult male griffin from the north. Though I guess that probably narrows the list of suspects down to around seven individuals.”
I breathed a sigh of relief, but I still shook slightly as I started walking again. “Yeah... And, yeah, I know who did it.”
“So...” Sherry raised a foreleg in a shrug. “I think that’s what Starfall wants out of this. If he can’t get revenge, then maybe that would be some closure.” We walked in silence while she thought something over. Finally, she offered, “Look, I’ll sweeten the deal. You apologize to him and tell him what you know about his wife’s attack, and you give me your word that you’ll stay in Farrington to finish serving out your community service... and I’ll give you your letters back.”
“Huh.” I was slightly impressed by her offer. Without my letters being held over me... well, I’d be in the same situation, really. However, I supposed it’d be nice to only have one less country to deal with if I somehow found a way to screw up the quiet, empty job I was doing now.
Also, having it put like that made me think that, on some level, I did owe something of an apology to Starfall—not because he deserved it, but because it was my family who attacked his.
Father definitely wouldn’t apologize.
That, more than anything, spurred me to nod. “Okay. I’ll apologize, and I’ll stick around to finish my reading.”
As soon as I said the words, Sherry nodded, then pulled a roll of papers out of one saddlebag. I recognized four of the sheets as my letters, but there was a fifth one that just had an address in the northern part of the Market District written on it. Noting my confusion, Sherry clarified, “Be there at eleven o’clock on Saturday.”
I nodded and stuffed the letters down the front of my armor, then we walked together to the end of the street. I had to turn left for my patrol, but Sherry kept heading straight. By way of a goodbye, she turned and said, “And friendly word of advice? Don’t wait until you’re forty to let yourself fall in love.”
I didn’t have a response for her right away, so I just grunted as we drifted farther apart. Despite my best efforts, once I was alone, her advice lingered with me for the rest of the day. It was an itchy bit of advice, one that I didn’t want to think about.
By the time I left Farrington that evening, I was almost impressed by how, in one conversation, Sherry had gotten me to question almost every conclusion I’d come to since my duel with Starfall.
* * *
Saturday morning, a little after eleven o’clock, I stood outside Starfall’s house. It was a nice-looking place, even if the lawn was slightly unkempt and the flowerbeds could probably use some watering. It might as well have been a dragon’s den for how little I wanted to go through the thin, black iron gate in front of the main path.
Earlier that week, on Tuesday, I had apologized to Officer Weatherly; that had gone surprisingly well. We’d come to an agreement that he was just doing his job and that he didn’t entirely blame me for the duel. Part of me wanted to draw strength from how easy it had been.
With a sigh, I looked down at my right hand. On the back, there was a smooth, pale mound of tender flesh that had a ragged outline on one side—it was almost healed, but it was a scar nonetheless. I couldn’t make as tight a fist with it as I used to be able to, but I figured that if I needed to, I had a gauntlet to throw punches with.
Currently, my short-taloned fingers were curled around Starfall’s knife. He had stabbed me with it twice, and he’d left it in me the second time. By most rights, I shouldn’t need to give it back.
But my wounds had healed. His hadn’t.
With a deep breath, I shook my head again and reminded myself that this probably wasn’t going to end anything between us. Still, Sherry was forcing me and... I had to apologize. It was my family who started this.
I undid his gate, walked up to his door, and knocked. On the other side, hooffalls approached to the door, then a pair of locks slid open. I felt my heartbeat quicken, but everything honed in and became sharper, so while it was faster, to me, it just seemed louder and at regular pace.
Starfall opened his door, and we glared at each other for a few hyper-realistic seconds. His mane looked a lot messier than I remembered from the time I’d seen him without his helmet. Now, he had a scar that ran vertically across his right eye. The eyeball itself still looked healthy, not like Father’s glossed-over milky one. That led to my observation that all three of us had eyes that were pretty close to the same shade of amber.
Finally, Starfall took a deep breath and asked, “What are you doing... at my house?” The words were hot and livid, but given the extent of rage I expected, they almost sounded neutral.
At least, I hoped they were neutral, because then he’d be willing to listen. I began, “I’m here to talk. And give this back.” To make sure that he’d listen, I waved his knife next to my head. He reached for it, but I pulled it back, out of his reach. “Talking first. Otherwise, I’ve got a friend in the Artisan District who I’m pretty sure wouldn’t mind doing some smelting work for me.”
His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t slam the door in my face. “So talk. Then leave.”
I still didn’t know whether he was only mildly pissed or if he was just weary. I banked on the latter, because that’s how I felt. “It’s been almost... what, four weeks? Four weeks since our duel, anyway, and I’m still not sure who’s to blame for everything between us. I mean, you started stuff, because of what happened to your wife. I fought back. Iron...” I shook my head. “Well, there’s the stuff between you and—”
“And there’s the sick piece of shit that attacked my wife in the first place!” he spat. “Or are you just going to forget about everyone from your race?”
I snarled at his accusation, but I forced it down. “I’m talking about things between us. Stuff we can work out.” I shrugged. “If you’re looking for an apology from the guy who did that to her, I can’t help you there. But I can apologize for what I did to you, and if it makes any difference, for what he did to her. So... I’m sorry.”
Starfall glared back at me for at least thirty long seconds. I started to doubt if he’d heard me, but finally, he sighed and bowed. “What’s his name?”
I dodged, “Look, it doesn’t—”
He snapped his head up and scowled so fast that I flinched. “Name!”
“G-Garick,” I stammered. “But that’s not going to help you with anything.” Suddenly, I was worried about this turning into an international outrage; that fear steeled my nerves. “I mean, you’ve got his name. If you go there and ask for a one-on-one fight, the only way you won’t get laughed at is if they’re too busy eating you.”
Starfall reeled, then muttered, “Disgusting.”
“Kind of,” I agreed.
“And you don’t see a problem with that?”
I shook my head. “I’m telling you not to go there.” Then a small bit of racial pride flared up. “This whole thing’s about how we don’t like outsiders. I don’t know what your wife was doing—”
“NOTHING!” he yelled through gnashed teeth. “She was delivering a letter, of all the damned things, and you’re telling me that there’s nothing wrong with—”
“It was my father!” I shouted over him. Starfall’s eyes widened, but my voice got faster as I continued, “He’s everything that’s wrong with my race: proud of the past, bored with the present.” My beak clattered, I was trembling so hard. “Your wife met him once? She was his plaything for one measly afternoon? TRY FOURTEEN FUCKING YEARS!”
Starfall blinked rapidly after my verbal onslaught, but he recovered quickly into a rage. “Fourteen years, but you can still fly! What’s—”
I punched him straight in the nose.
His eyes rolled, unfocused, as reflexive tears welled up in them. “Oh...” I exhaled in a shuddering breath. “You weren’t fast enough to dodge that? Spend a night outside when it’s winter, then.” I took a short breath. “I made a fire so I wouldn’t die. It took two months for the fur on my leg to start growing back after he shoved me into it. Lucky, that healed in time for him to break my arm for the seventh time!” My own tears were flowing now as I pointed his knife’s hilt at him. “So don’t even act like you know half of it!”
We stood in silence for a few moments after that. Starfall was aghast, and I... had no idea where that memory had come from. It made me want to break down, sobbing. I at least wanted to run away—but not yet. I needed to hold it together for a few more minutes.
Starfall was still stunned into silence, so I forced a brave face on and finished what I had come to do. “N... none of that matters anymore. It’s in the past. I’m not going to be a hypocrite and ask you to get over everything.” I turned my wrist over and opened my hand, offering his knife to him. “So can we just... coexist?”
For his part, Starfall still stood there, looking at me like I grew a second head. He blinked some of the shock out of his face, tried to say something, shook his head, then finally muttered, “Yes, then.”
He took his knife back and I turned leave him, his home, his city... Before I made it to his front gate, I heard him quietly call out, “Gilda?”
I turned my head, mildly surprised to hear him use my name for once. Our eyes met, but then he shook his head and closed his door.
I blinked, then realized that calling me by name instead of race was as close to an actual apology as I was going to get.
I didn’t care. I wanted to get out of Farrington.
As I marched to the north gate, I blithely thought about how it was slightly easier to walk on my talon-less right hand, now that I wasn’t holding his knife. I tried to console myself that now, after apologizing to Starfall, I only had one punishment left to finish.
But between having my whole past ripped open like that and, now, the new memories I had forgotten... I wondered if it had been worth it.
Knife in hoof, I stared at my closed door for a few moments after Iron’s crazy girlfriend left.
No, forget crazy. Crazy was a few miles ago from where she was at now.
She was a dangerous individual.
I reveled in the irony of how, during our first actual conversation—never mind how I didn’t understand any of the gibberish she’d screamed at me after her sucker punch—almost everything I had initially worried about her was right. The only difference was now, after looking past her species, I could respect her intellect enough to notice she was smart enough to be completely psychotic.
Something warm dripped out of my nose. I swore and clamped my right forearm over it, then rushed to the bathroom. After I wadded up two tissues and stuffed them into both nostrils, I caught a look at my reflection as I scowled. Between my nose and the scar on my right eye, her crazy outbursts were beginning to take a toll on my face.
Shaking my head, I returned to the foyer. I’d been quick enough in handling my nosebleed that I wouldn’t have to clean off the hardwood floors. I took that as a small victory; even before she had showed up to “apologize,” I had been behind on my Saturday morning chores. It was something of a milestone for me; my wing had finally gotten to a point where I could manage the pain without felony-grade prescription drugs.
Today was supposed to be my first day of doing yardwork since the duel. I didn’t have time to waste getting punched in the face by an unstable griffin.
Before I could go outside, I needed to decide what to do with my knife. I didn’t want to wear it outside; at the very least, it was evidence of the Sharptalon’s visit. Instead, I went into the bedroom and shut my knife away in the drawer of my bedside table. Later, when Comet and I were getting ready for bed, I’d tell her what happened.
With that settled, I headed outside. My family had left almost forty minutes ago for their usual Saturday shopping—almost exactly half an hour before the Sharptalon showed up. I wondered about the timing of that, but then I chuckled, wrinkled my nose and asked, What’s she going to do, attack me?
I went behind our house to my shed and got out the push-mower, then I took it to the front lawn and started tracing rows in the green overgrowth. Cutting grass was a slow, methodical process, but I liked it. It was less foreign than it was ten years ago, but my Cloudsdale youth still reveled at the novelty. Grass. Still, as long as I kept the lines straight, mowing the lawn could be a mind-emptying task.
Unfortunately, Iron’s girlfriend still weighed heavily on my thoughts—and nose.
The first thing that came to mind was sympathy, for Iron. This was his first actual girlfriend, at least since I’d met him, and she was also insane. I could be irrational, sometimes, but there was a vast difference between that and having emotions that flipped like a switch.
All because of her father, I sneered. Even if I didn’t know what, specifically, she yelled at me about, I could figure out what “his plaything” meant. Monsters like that weren’t isolated to griffins...
I still remembered the day my sergeant had asked if I wanted to investigate a neighbor’s reports of crying from a supposedly empty house next door. I volunteered. I discovered the source. And figuring that filly had been through enough, I had enough decency to take that stallion into what used to be someone’s living room before I beat him to a quivering, sobbing pulp.
That mess had been back when I was an officer, and it was the first and only time I had been officially reprimanded for “excessive force.” Eight years later, I regretted nothing. A month after things settled down, I was personally invited to Farrington’s Air Patrol, a position that came with, technically, the rank of sergeant.
However, it didn’t come to me as that grand of a surprise that Iron’s girlfriend was somehow related to the monster that attacked Comet. As much as I wanted to hate her for it, though, I just couldn’t. There were some things you couldn’t blame on somebody, and as someone with children, I held no regard for anything that was unable to adhere to basic biological logic.
I finished mowing my front lawn, unless I counted the clippings. I was starting to sweat, and while I wasn’t tired yet, my wing joint was starting to prickle. I decided to skip them for now, and damn whatever effects on the grass it’d have.
That only left the back yard which, while not huge, was large enough where I’d probably have to spend a good half-hour on it. Shortly after I started in on it, I came to the conclusion that no, I couldn’t hate Gilda. Not anymore. Granted, since I wasn’t running into her every day, it was easier to not hate her, to not be reminded of what I let happen to Comet.
However, I could pity her situation. She was outcast from her own society and, based on what I learned today, that hadn’t been a good situation for her either. I supposed between her home and Farrington, she didn’t really have anywhere she belonged.
That insight came with a distant pang of guilt. I remembered my tactics for establishing boundaries with her—she had a right, as an officer, to defer to a lieutenant’s authority for certain things. I remembered how I had shown my right to demonstrate that it wasn’t worth her time to bother me, but after learning more of her situation, I wondered if I should apologize to her.
I scoffed at that. Bitch broke my wing. Whatever I’d done to her, she’d gotten her dignity back, and she had come asking to coexist—which was ironic, given how I’d probably never see her again—not for my apology. And even if I handled it wrong the first time, I still maintained that she had no right to be near my wife or children. Not after everything her father had done to our family.
It wasn’t a matter of blame, however. It was more a matter of decency.
I took it easy for the remainder of the mowing. Even still, I didn’t notice when Comet and the kids got back. One moment, I was mowing the last third of the back yard; the next, Hailey was fluttering over to me with a glass of lemonade. She gave it to me. I smiled and thanked her.
While I drank, she asked, “Mom wants to know if you’re gonna leave our front lawn looking like a tornado passed through.”
I stared flatly back at her for a moment before chuckling and shaking my head. “You want to make five bits?”
“Not really.”
Smart kid, I mused. Then I answered, “Tell her I’ll get to it. Any idea when lunch is?”
“Nope.”
I grunted, then offered the glass back to her. “Take this back in with you.”
Hailey nodded, grabbed the empty glass, and buzzed back inside. Despite having my workload doubled, approximately, I smiled. Maybe it would be better to get the yard spruced up. At this rate, I’d have enough energy, so maybe it was time for some usual Saturday quality time with my kids.
I grinned at the thought, and it motivated me for the next forty minutes as I mowed, raked, bagged, and took care of other various bits of yardwork that I had neglected for far too long.
Saturday afternoon, I decided to visit Starfall.
On the familiar walk over to his house, I mused at how simple an outing that used to be. In fact, as far back as my seventeenth birthday, we used to have a running tradition of going to a bar together on Saturday nights. It ended when he got promoted to lieutenant; in one night of indulgence, we had managed to simultaneously celebrate his promotion and declare a lifelong avoidance of gin.
In all seriousness, it had been far too long since the last time we spoke, and even then, the last time we had spoken in a friendly manner. Even before his duel with Gilda, she had been hanging over our interactions—which was no fault of her own, granted. However, I also had to admit that now that she was out of my life, things were returning to their usual, regular fare.
The final piece of that was getting my old friend back.
Earlier in the week, Sherry stopped by my station with the simple message, “He’s still slightly pissed. Give him another week or so.” However, she’d accidentally contradicted herself on Wednesday, when she brought me her half of the Guard’s biweekly pay cycle audit.
Through some fancy bending of paperwork and red tape, we were able to keep Starfall on the payroll as if he were on disability. However, that fund was running out, which meant that soon, things were going to turn bad for him, financially. Then, there was the fact that I hadn’t officially fired him or made any of the promotions permanent—as I was reminded, almost daily, by Acting-Sergeant Even Scales. The stallion was five years older than me, but he apparently had the patience of a grade-school colt.
When the end of the week finally came around, I was aware that I needed to talk to Starfall for business and for personal reasons. After lunch, Maxie had locked herself in her room without a shouting match first, which could only mean one of two things—and I would interrupt neither. Things had gotten strange enough between us last Friday.
Instead, I had started back up on the book I was reading. After scanning the same page four times, I realized I was procrastinating, and that drove me out the door so I could finally see where things stood between my friend and myself.
Comet greeted me at the door with a huge smile. “Hey, stranger!”
I darted my eyes off to the side; one of the unfortunate side effects of having a row with my friend was that, out of respect to him, I didn’t really have a chance to speak to his wife, either. Even if July hadn’t already been part of her childrens’ break from school, where she was usually too busy at home, I would have canceled our Thursday lunches together.
She understood and patted my cheek apologetically. “Okay, I didn’t mean it like that.”
I smiled. “I know. But on that subject... is Starfall home?”
Comet waved me inside and spoke as she led me through the house. “It’s getting harder and harder to tell him to rest, but I guess that means he’s healing, right?”
“Probably,” I agreed. After a few steps, I asked, “So, is he doing well?”
We passed through their living room and into the back hallway, where Comet answered, “Better. And... I mean more than just the wing.” She shrugged, which from behind, accentuated the bones of a second pair of shoulders. “I mean, if I’d known all he needed was some empathy for a cripple, I know where to break wings where they don’t heal well.”
I stayed silent; there wasn’t a simple answer for that comment. First, it was mildly disturbing. But secondly, even though I’d done what I could to bridge the gap between them over the years, I still felt awkward commenting on it. In general, Comet and I knew how “stuck” Starfall was, but the only conversation Starfall and I had about his situation went, “Get a girlfriend, then talk to me about my relationship.”
Which, I unfortunately noted, was how it had played out.
Luckily, Comet took our conversation to a brighter place: “But... I don’t know. After his fight with the Market Square, he seems like he knows there’s three of us here he needs to care about.”
“That’s good,” I stated, and Comet agreed with a nod.
When we got to the end of the hallway, she opened the top half of the door and revealed a truly happy sight. Starfall and his two children were out in the yard, vying for control of a soccer ball. It didn’t look like there were any goalposts or rules, but their smiles and laughter told me they didn’t need any.
Moonshine was the first of them to notice me; his cheer of “Uncle Iron!” got his sister’s attention, and I had about a second’s warning to sit down before they both zipped over, through the open door, and smothered me in a feathery flurry of hugs—more affectionate than their usual fare, but it’d been the better part of a month since the last time I’d watched them for Comet.
“Do you want to play soccer with us?”
“Yeah, c’mon, it’ll be fun!”
They broke out of the greeting and hovered, waiting for an answer; before I committed, I looked up at the back door. Starfall was standing there, looking at me blankly. I gestured to his children and shrugged.
He gave a weak grin, returned the shrug, and opened the bottom half of the door. “Well, come on, then.”
I shot a quick, guilty glance at Comet. Her answer was, “I’ve got some cleaning to finish up.”
With that settled, the four of us ventured outside and split into two teams for a more structured game of soccer. However, we didn’t keep score, we weren’t stringent about goal zones, and it was the most fun afternoon I’d had in a long time.
* * *
A few hours later, Comet came out into the yard to announce that dinner was almost ready. She invited me to join them.
Again, I silently deferred to Starfall; again, he gave me a permissive nod.
After our dinner plans were cemented, Comet took the kids inside to clean up before dinner. For as sunny a day I’d been exerting myself in, I felt slightly awkward at the mention of hygiene. However, once they were gone, I found myself alone in the back yard with Starfall, and I realized I had more important concerns than sweat.
He realized it, too—I saw his eyes dart over to the hose hanging from his house before he focused back on me. He chewed his cheek for a few moments, which made me realize I didn’t know what to say, either. The simplest solution presented itself, so I began, “Look—”
“I don’t—”
After interrupting each other, we looked at each other and waited. Neither of us continued our original line of thought, however; instead, we decided to cut to the chase and admit, at the same time, “I’m sorry.”
I listed my infractions first. “I shouldn’t have just backhooved you away from the scene like that. You’ve been my friend for a decade, and you deserve better than that. And I’m sorry about what I said at the hospital—”
Starfall shook his head. “You freaked out because you expected better from me, and that’s because I lied about her not bothering me. That’s a pretty shitty thing to do to a captain, let alone your friend.”
“But I wasn’t acting like a captain,” I argued. “Or at least, not impartially.”
He shrugged. “Well, okay. But then I’m sorry I stabbed your girlfriend.”
I chuckled, but shook my head. “Apology accepted.”
Before saying anything, Starfall put his hoof out. I grabbed it to shake it, but he surprised me by pulling me into a quick, sweaty, stallion hug for two pats. Repaired friendship or no, there were certain rules to things.
After we broke away, I nodded and clarified, “Though, truth be told, she’s not really my girlfriend anymore.”
Starfall crooked his head slightly. “Really? I figured you had something to do with her little visit.”
I raised an eyebrow. “She visited you?”
“Yeah.” He nodded, straightening his head out. “She apologized, then she punched me in the face, then she broke down into her language a bit. So I think we’re good now. I don’t know how they apologize.”
I rubbed my cheek and thought about making a joke, but I still felt regret over that situation—especially my mistakes. Nonetheless, I was curious about her wellbeing. “What... else did she mention?”
“In all seriousness...” His eyes and tone dropped. “She mentioned her father. So...” He shrugged.
I didn’t know if he felt remorse over his actions or pity over her situation, so I struck an objective middle ground: “Well, yes, she’s sensitive over that issue.”
Starfall nodded. “I mean, no offense, Iron... but damn. If you’re new to dating, you might want to try someone less...” His eyes traveled off into the distance before he chose the word. “Unstable.”
In truth, I agreed with him. Things were certainly easier without her. However, I shook my head slowly and answered, “I’m aware of her... personality hangups.” It felt good to be finally able to be honest with another stallion, so I added, “Her problems tended to accentuate the good times as well as the bad times. Whenever she was in a bad mood, it was difficult. But when she was happy...” I remembered the toy otter she gave me, then shook my head sadly. “I know I should move on. I just... I wish we could talk about some of the things that happened.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s been avoiding me since the incident,” I clarified. “I ran into her once, accidentally; after that, she almost fractured my jaw and told me to quit following her.”
Starfall’s ears drooped, then he hoofed at his lawn absently. “Well, damn, kid.” He shrugged. “I didn’t mean to destroy your relationship.”
I looked back at him, flatly.
“Well, okay,” he continued, “other than the... murder thing. If I could go back and change it, I would...” He massaged his temple. “I’ve been an ass.”
Without saying anything else, he walked over to the hose near his house, unwound a few feet, then sprayed himself down with it. He avoided his back for the most part, which I assumed was because of the cast. When he finished, he offered me the hose’s nozzle. “I’ll see what I can do to make it up to you, Iron.”
I turned the water on, then after a blast of cold water drenched me, I shivered, “N-no need.”
He chuckled. “Don’t like the cold?”
I shook my head, “There’s cold, then there’s ice.”
“Try living in Cloudsdale during the winter,” he replied absently. We shared a blank stare, then he continued, “Right. Sorry. But, no, I’ll see what I can do about closure for you two. After all, it’s the least I can do.”
His offer gave me mixed reactions. I was wary of it; since I was in the middle of trying to put Gilda behind me, I didn’t want to rely too much the hope it gave me. With a shrug, I supposed it wouldn’t hurt anything in the long run.
There wasn’t anywhere worse my relationship with Gilda could go beyond “not speaking.” And if there was, then at least I had my friend back to help me through it.
I grinned my thanks at him. Handing the hose back to him, I changed the subject. “Then only thing that remains is to ask you what you want to do, with regard to the Guard.”
He blinked at me, but he rewrapped the hose on its hook. “Iron, I assaulted a subordinate officer... twice. Should I even be allowed back?”
His question rose one of my own objectivity, but luckily, I had spoken to both Sherry and Horatio on the matter. Even he disdainfully agreed that, while it was a fiasco, it was a fairly multi-faceted fiasco.
I answered plainly, “Your service record speaks for itself: You’re not a bad guard. You’ve been injured in the line of duty over a dozen times, and you have hundreds of by-the-book arrests to compensate for the one that no one truly blames you for.” I shrugged. “As captain, I can’t afford to lose someone as competent and driven as you were. Even if there are punishments to deal with...” I shook my head. “The Guard hasn’t forgotten a decade of good service.”
Starfall’s mouth stretched thin, and he blinked hard. “Damn it, Iron...” His voice cracked, so I took a deep breath and looked upwards to let him have his dignity. After a few moments passed, he cleared his throat. “That... that means a lot.”
I looked him back in his misty eyes, and I smiled. “You’re a good stallion, Star.” Unfortunately, I needed to level with him. “But I won’t lie, this is a one-time deal. And friend or no, I’m going to be enacting a zero-tolerance policy for you, towards Gilda.” I shook my head. “In fact, part of me is tempted to get her consent before you can officially return—”
He grinned, which was intriguing enough to get me to quit speaking. Sure enough, he said, “I’m one step ahead of you there. At the end of her foreign rant, she offered me the chance to ‘coexist,’ and I took it.”
That news assuaged my fears somewhat. I pressed, “What if Horatio assigns you as her patrolling partner?”
Starfall winced at the implication, but then shook his head and smirked. “I’d make sure she’s okay with it, then ask for a permanent route in the Artisan District.”
Despite the gravity of the situation, I chuckled. They would be a force to reckon with, if they could set aside their differences. However, I shook my head and focused on the first part of his answer. It implied empathy, but there was something I’d learned earlier that put my doubts to rest:
“Thank your wife,” I leveled. “The fact that Comet says you’re doing better with dealing with your anger... that is the real reason I’m going to go through with this.”
A frown crossed his face, but he wisely remained silent on that issue. Instead, he asked, “So, busted down to officer... Horatio’s going to love that.”
I chuckled darkly. “Imagine that. A lieutenant with disdain for an officer.”
Starfall made an interesting mix between a groan and a chuckle. “Touché.” After a pause, he asked, “Will I at least keep my yearly raises?”
“Some,” I answered frankly. “But there are punishments, demerits...” I shook my head then quietly added, “If need be, I’ll help with things out of my own pocket.”
He put a hoof on my shoulder and shook his head. “No. Money’ll be tight, but we’ll figure something out.” He shrugged. “It’s better than having no job, at any rate.”
I mirrored his hoof and patted his shoulder. “When will you be able to rejoin us?”
Starfall took a moment to think, then he asked, “Isn’t Gilda using my old armor?”
“Technically.” I nodded. “I’ll get some wing-holes put in another set.”
He bobbed his head in agreement, then answered my original question, “Well, I won’t be able to make it this Monday... but give me another week, and I’ll be good.”
“Fair enough,” I agreed. Mentally, I noted how close that was coming to the end of his medical pension; if he had any injuries that required him to miss his shifts in the next few months, he’d probably need a personal loan.
However, it was a small price to pay in the long run.
To make things official, I held out a hoof and said, “Welcome back to the Farrington Guard, Officer Starfall.”
After we shook hooves, he smiled and looked at his house. “Dinner’s probably on the table; let’s get some before it gets cold.”
I agreed, but only to a certain extent. “Cold food is good food if it’s eaten with a friend.”
Starfall coughed out a laugh. “Damn. What’s that from, ‘Cooking and the Art of Writing Greeting Cards?’”
I joined him with a chuckle of my own, glad to see that things were quickly headed back to normal for us. As he led me into his house, I rubbed my left shoulder and mused that even though things with him got hectic and angry from time to time, I would choose very few stallions to replace him with as a friend.
Hours after Iron’s surprise visit-turned-dinner, Hailey and Moonshine were asleep, Starfall was in the bathroom brushing his teeth, and I was in bed looking at the night sky
I knew it was pointless to wish things had turned out differently for me, but from the ground, the moon and stars all seemed so very far away. I kept staring at the pale, yellow crescent and, like every night, I hoped that if someone were looking back, that she’d keep watch over my family.
Starfall finished up in the bathroom, and I decided that, in lieu of a goddess’s protection, he’d have to do. He got into bed with me, and his hoof felt reassuring as it brushed on my shoulder. He slid it down to my side, but I stopped him when it got to my waist.
I was glad that he’d managed to patch things up with Iron and the Guard, but still, I couldn’t get it out of my head that if he hadn’t gotten his head out of his ass at just the right moment, things would have turned out a lot worse than they did.
Of course, he was in a frisky, celebrative mood. “So, good news today, huh?”
I chuckled darkly as I pushed his hoof away. “That’s one way to put it.”
There was a brief pause, followed by, “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s wrong?”
I glared at the wall as I brought my hind legs’ knees up to my chest. “What’s wrong is how close you came to losing your job over... what, because your feelings got hurt? Because you were right and Iron was wrong?” I wanted to keep going, but I was too tired from worrying about everything. Instead, I just vented my anger in an exasperated sigh.
There was a moment of silence, then he made a frustrated grunt before sighing and asking, “Do you remember what I told you after your injury?”
“Yeah, well now that I understand why you thought that—”
“I told you I’d support you, and I meant it. It wasn’t because you weren’t able to support yourself anymore, it was... because I brought you here in the first place. I’d hate the mines, or working in a store... but it still would have been me working.”
The softness and sincerity of his voice... it was always hard to stay angry at him when he was like this. And he was getting better about his condescension, or at least now, I could see where it really came from. He felt guilty over what had happened, even though it wasn’t his fault. I wanted to let him know that I wasn’t angry at him, but if I were direct, he’d just brush it off as obvious. Instead, I started, “Do you remember, after we left, how angry my parents were with you?”
“Were? Didn’t they refer to me as ‘that worthless ass of a stallion you married’ in their Hearth’s Warming card last winter?”
I smiled at the epithet; in a drawer in the closet, there were nine cards that we kept hidden from the children, but they said the exact same thing, in the exact same words. I hoped it a term of endearment by this point; they were nice enough when they came to visit. Then again, if they blamed Starfall for what happened to me, then there was some justification for his self-righteous guilt. “They took things harder than your dad did.”
Behind me, Starfall chuckled. “Well, he’s finding it easier to live as a bachelor, now that I’m not there to eat all his food.” His voice turned pensive and quiet. “I should visit soon; it’s been a while.”
As he thought about his plans for the future, I let nostalgia take me back to the past. Our first six months in Farrington had been unsteady, like a small fire burning in a night breeze. Both of us worked our jobs, and even though I was out on deliveries a lot, Starfall had always been there and happy when I came home to him. I missed those days, when we had been young and stupid and had known that we loved each other.
I remembered how, almost half a year after my injury, on our wedding day, I had freaked out because my gown didn’t fit anymore—Hailey had been on her way, and that hadn’t done any favors for my waistline. Star had cheered me up by ripping his vest in half and vowing that, screw it, we’d get married naked.
I smiled as I also remembered Iron’s cautious tone as he later asked, “Wasn’t that a rental?”
My smile faded when I realized that, at the same time, I was glad those days were gone. Before my injury, I used to travel the world on a whim. I loved exploration, and risk... it had been stupid, so I never told Starfall, but I had known full-well whose territory I had been crossing into that day. I hadn’t expected it to be anything more than an idle thrill, something of an empty danger... but then, I got caught.
Between the terror, the helplessness, and the pain, it had been a harsh dose of reality.
“You know,” I whispered quietly, “I don’t want to accuse that monster of doing us any favors... but it’s interesting, how settling down turned out.”
Despite my defensive curl, I felt myself being pulled backwards into Starfall. He wrapped a forelimb around my knees and whispered, “I’m sorry for my part of how things turned out.”
I rested my hoof on top of his. I wanted his affection to be real, to be deep, but he would never get over what happened if he kept blaming himself. I whispered back, “It’s not your fault, Star. Try to remember that.”
He kissed me in the crook of my neck, and unconsciously, I twitched my cheek to nuzzle against his. He spoke into my skin, and I felt the three quiet words: “I love you.”
It was nice to be held like that and to have sweet nothings whispered into my ear. But I’d seen that side of Starfall too many times to believe it as more than just words. He slid his hoof between my knees, and I let him, even if that might just be empty, too.
Still, I wanted to believe his words. If I were honest with myself, part of me needed them to be real. The only solace I took was in hope; hope that, despite our barriers, and despite the odds, one day, I’d know he were telling the truth.
One day, we’d love each other again.
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2526442
My morning today, told through emoticons:
At first I was like "wow, what an ass" after reading Star's initial reaction to Gilda's outburst, and wondered why in the hell he didn't listen, until it was revealed that Gilda had lapsed into her native tongue without realizing it. THAT is just depressing.
2527739
I don't know if that's an error, but it reads awkwardly to me.
Four perspectives in one chapter. I hope this sets a new precedence.
I love this story. I'm trying to remember how each chapter differs from the older versions.
2527739
Forget to hit that publish button?
2528398
Top one is a mistake. Bottom quote is functioning as intended. Thank you.
2528405
The events are in a new order, which gives them a slightly different meaning. However, I also tried to fix up the style a little during this revision process.
For example, in the original version of chapter four of this story (which was chapter nine of Summer Days and Evening Flames), the Starfall/Iron scene ends with:
In the new version, it reads as:
Which... actually gives them different speech patterns this time (besides how it's been rewritten to be from Iron's, not Starfall's perspective). Both of them have a throwback to the prologue of the story, but in the new version, it's a lot more subtle and natural.
Given how open people are with criticism in this fandom (a good thing, mind you), I hope you can see why I don't want to have both versions of this story floating around.
2528637
Heh. I got wrapped up in my Gilda x Sombra fic, and I was also exhausted from the editorial finishing up chapter seven of this story.
I woke up today and wondered, "Wasn't there something online that I needed to do yesterday?"
2528398
>four perspectives
It... does not, until we get to the epilogue.
Chapter five is only two perspectives, chapter six is three perspectives, chapter seven is two again, and chapter eight is also two... though I guess things might be interesting if I switch one scene around in chapter eight...
Still, no more "four perspective" chapters. Comet's and Starfall's arc is finished now, so we're going to see a lot less of those characters (much like Maxie, now that her thing with Iron is resolved) as the story's going to start picking up pace to explore what happens to Gilda and Iron.
2527739
Sounds like a real roller coaster. Like...
"Fuck this morning. Fuck it with a stick...."
"Heeeey, waitasecond...."
"FUUUUU-"
"There, that wasn't so late. Maybe nobody will notice...."
We noticed. We didn't really care and we still love our Mininack like, this much, but we noticed.
2528828
Actually, I just like this emoticon:
But that's pretty much my morning (other than the hoping no one noticed; I really just hoped no one would care).
Ok... time for my usual at the spot commentaries.
That brings about an interesting point. In your universe, do pony go into heat? Or is that simply a characteristic of non-sapient beings? Not to mention there isn't much out there that fits that description... though admittedly, anything that does, you really don't want to face.
Logic leap. what does dragons preferring to eat rock have to do with defensive herbivores?
I'm sorry, I'm having a hard time following the conversation here. What does this have to do with cutting Gilda's talons off and saying it's done out east?
Funny thought occurred to me. Can't they eat grass?
Well, with how you were the last couple of weeks, I say "so much for that last part"... at least as far as alcohol is concerned.
I can't help but wonder how a pegasus does that.
probably should write "had known" or "knew" here... though I confess myself uncertain.
This is probably one of my favourite scene in your story.
Anyway, another good chapter, though I will admit that sometimes, it took me a moment to realize whose point of view the scene was from.
Things are picking up, and I look forward to the next chapter as usual.
Said this before, will say it again, it's interesting to see Sherry take a much more active role in "relationship management" (be it romantic or not), whereas in the original, she took a much more passive role ("Talk to each other").
2528269
Whelp...
2528721 So, how many chapters can we expect in total? You mentioned eight here, but you also mentioned an epilogue, so nine?
Either way I've gotta say I loved Gilda's slip into her mother tongue, it has happened to me a few times and it can be very, very awkward.
oh, Starfall you will have your chance to make things up with Gilda very soon...
2528964
Nine, yes. But the epilogue is probably only going to be 4 or 5k words, compared to how everything from here on out is hovering around 10k words, so, not really a chapter, really.
2528928
And, my usual bout of replies:
Spoilered, because... pony birth control discussion.
), my take on Equestria has estrus as a more controlled (and controllable) phenomenon, with herbal medicines that can either suppress or induce it at mares' choice (explaining how Starfall's birthday is in September, for example, despite the 11-month pregnancy).
Yes, naturally four times a year. However, unlike most "heat turns mares into mindless sex machines and stallions unable to resist" fan theories (
Well, gems and plants are both non-living, non-gorey things to eat, so they're comparable in terms of "dangerous beings don't necessarily eat meat."
Gilda doesn't like being thrown in with those uptight Greek griffins out east.
Probably. I like this little look at Starfall's inner "pegasus master racist" mentality, because here he is, a combat-hardened badass, smiling at the grass.
That was whiskey, a completely different drink (that, incidentally, Maxie ruined for him forever).
Thick-handled toothbrushes that can be gripped by their gummy, wristy parts.
Fixed.
Heh. Much appreciated, and this is probably "Starfall and Iron defined, in two lines of dialogue."
2529153 9? cool! heh I find it kinda funny that by your standards, an epilogue hovering around 4k-5k words is considered short. I've seen people write chapters less than 3k and call that "long"
2529568
Heh. The chapter this chapter's events were originally part of was 42,000 words long.
2529576 42K....
How did you even write that much. I think one of your old chapters was like 15k it took a pretty long while and it was gigantic. I just, wow.
2529153
Lol at the spoileredness...
Yeah... I think that fan theory you mentioned came from AJT's Beating the Heat story. The comedy behind it ensured that it resonated in people's mind.
In any case, yeah, that's pretty much what I have in mind. Heat season is just a time period where they have a bit more... sentiment, towards that. I'm taking a bit more liberty to biology in this regard in that it doesn't need to be "induced".
Dragons are hardly non-carnivorous. They eat gemstones because it feeds their firebreath. As Spike demonstrates, they're most likely omnivores.
When one refers to herbivores, it means specifically "plant-eaters" not "non-carnivores".
Unfortunately, the point here is lost on me.
Eh... like I said, conversation's a little hard to follow. I mean, I can kinda see how her response can indicate that, but it's kinda... obscure.
you mean "master race"? An understandable slip-up since Starfall has demonstrated quite a bit of racism.
As I said, as far as alcohol is concerned. But yeah... swearing off gin != swearing off alcohol therefore swearing off whiskey.
Eh, guess they would have something like that designed for 2/3 of the Equestrian population. Though, really, equine anatomy does not even permit this to work, but hey, magical talking horse.
2529612
To be fair, it took over a month. I don't write fast at all (though I did pound out 10k words this week, but that was mostly "built up momentum from writing Dusk-Lit Waltz for a month").
2529664
Fair enough for the distinction; still, Sherry isn't really concerned with the precision of language as she is with making her point about dragons.
2528928
It took me embarrassingly long time to realize Gilda was referring to herself as being the "bigger predator". What threw me off was Sherry's attitude and power over Gilda. This line makes much more sense now.
Sherry makes a generalization about griffins, Gilda retorts with generalization about ponies.
2529752
About the generalization part... yeah, I get that now. Didn't realize it at first when I read it.
2529752
Er... no, Gilda was conceding the point that, metaphorically, Sherry's the "bigger predator." Their conversation basically goes:
"Quit looking at my scar." - S
"What do you want, then?" - G
"Oh, so you're going to cut things short?" - S
"Yeah; in my tribe, we avoid the bigger predators." - G
"Predators aren't as dangerous as defensive herbivores. Let me segue into more worldbuilding to then try to express sympathy for your self-made, shitty situation." - S
2529972
Oh.
Comet and Starfall's arc hit just the right notes for me. You rarely see people committed to fixing a broken relationship in fiction, and it's downright inspiring when well-done. Another excellent chapter, although it's a total tease that we still haven't gotten another conversation between our leads yet.
I can only imagine how hilariously awkward Starfall trying to patch things up between Gilda and Iron is going to be. Can't wait to find out!
2530267 I personally think it's sad, because at the end there, Comet has lost all trust, respect, and love for Starfall after his comments, as she considers him to have shown his true colors. I am torn between whether she is being realistic or hopelessly naive when she thinks she can "learn to love him again," as from what I can tell, if you have to learn to love somebody, it can never be genuine.
Love this chapter. Good character development all around, without solving too many things at once. As odd as it seems I'm actually glad Starfall's still a bit of a racist asshole simply because it feels like the conflict should go on for a few more chapters.
2529972
That's actually pretty funny when put like that.
2531311
I've heard of a certain pastor and his wife patching up their marriage after he cheated on her with another man. Compared to that I'd say Comet and Starfall have a pretty good chance of patching things up.
Furthermore, marriage is a lot more than "love," and is actually a lot of work. That they're willing to put the effort into fixing things up shows to me their marriage will last.
2531311
I don't agree! I think that love and relationships in general are an awful lot of work, even when that attraction and affection is there. In some ways, love that you work at seems more real to me--Comet is committing to this marriage because she wants to, giving herself to try to make it work. The fact that they know the path will be rocky gives it more substance than a relationship that's all sunshine and flowers. It's how I see it, at least.
2529153
Thank you, it's always refreshing to see something different to that. I mean we see these are very smart and civilized creatures, so it just makes sense that they would have ways to control their more basic instincts, just like humans.
2531311
That's an accurate interpretation of their present, but a slightly-less-hopeful hypothesis of their future. I mean, yeah, Starfall's hurt her. Hard. Systematically, over the better course of a decade. But Chapter 2 of this story was him realizing, "Guh... I'm an asshole... now what?" And Chapter 4, I try to answer, "Now, we'll just wait and see." Which... isn't the most concrete expression of their love and neither is what they're gearing up for in that final scene, but... "we'll wait and see" is probably the best ending possible for them at this point—as it's showing they're both willing to work on their relationship together.
2534034
You're telling me I didn't need to put in the stage directions?
In all seriousness, I thought of, for April Fool's, doing an "abridged version" of this story. But then the characters became self aware.
"This is the part where I've got to rehash my dark, angsty past to you to progress the plot." - G
"I'm so lonely, there is literally nothing you can tell me that will end this relationship." - I
It was weird.
2530267
Heh. I am a tease. But, the synopsis of this story specifically mentions that "it's not just about Gilda:"
2535475
Yeah, I mean... if a society completely lost its mind and went "orgy-mode" four times a year, it... wouldn't be a society. There'd definitely be a medical priority to mitigate that, at any rate.
But even in real life, human women don't go crazy while they're ovulating (unless said craziness is a symptom of an underlying cause), so I based my theory around that. After all, there's certain biological tics that humans have that have allowed us to build a society; I'd assume we'd have to share some of those with a race of sapient ponies.
I really like this version compared to the last one.