“It’s… not…. important,“ she seethed, growling through her teeth. He shivered slightly from the sight.
Quicksilver rested himself, his blanket wrapped tightly around him. He’d been lying there for nigh an hour, and the darkness of night had already seeped into the camp. The cold was bitter as ever, making him wish he was back near the bonfires. Despite his time being here, his body had not adjusted to the cold. And if there was one thing both Pegasi and Gryphon knew, it was that winter gets colder and colder as the days go by.
His only solace was the thin blanket, but the frail fabric was powerless against the cold chill. He kept his mind focused, trying to think of the fires. However, his thoughts also lingered on the stone the young thestral gave him. He didn’t know what significance it held, but he could assume any number of things. He tried to keep the stone hidden, keeping it underneath the blanket, but he knew what little the stone could give to him at this time. His stomach growled in protest, and he clutched at his sides from the pain.
C’mon, Gretchen! Where is that food you promised? he thought, trying to imagine warm food in his belly. The moment he thought about it, he heard movement outside the tent and quickly shimmied in place. Sure enough, he saw Gretchen enter with two hot bowls steaming out into the night. He quickly got up and sat up straight, waiting for the bowl to be served to him. Gretchen handed the food over, but Quicksilver noticed something was wrong with her. She had a solemn look on her face, and she didn't respond to him when he moved. She settled herself and began eating away at her soup, looking almost ravenous when she did so. Quiksilver took to his bowl and easily got the soup in. It was a little cool, but it was enough to get the warmth running through his veins. After few minutes of uneasy silence, Gretchen finished her bowl, set it to the side (albeit rather roughly) and quickly curled herself on her hay. Quicksilver, wondering what was bothering her, set his empty bowl to the side.
“Gretchen? Are you alright?” he asked, hoping he would stir the hen into speaking. She remained where she was, silent as a tomb and unmoving. Quicksilver wondered if it was something that her uncle had said, or if it was something else entirely. He cleared his throat and spoke a little louder.
“Gretchen, is there anything-”
“Stow your face, fletching! I don’t want to talk!” Gretchen snapped, not moving from her spot.
Quicksilver flinched; he never seen her react like that before. Steadying himself for another verbal assault, he spoke again.
“Gretchen, I was only offering an ear; you don’t have to snap at me for it.”
Her tail flicked for a few moments. She then lifted her white head and turned to see him. He was startled, because all he could see was the red feathers around her eyes. She was staring at him like a predator in the brush.
She then, ever elegantly, lifted herself off the hay and strode towards him, her face ever constant. Quicksilver remained where he was, unmoved, yet still watchful. He didn’t know what caused her to be like this, but he knew that something had ticked her off.
She soon was standing over him, and his eyes followed up to her gaze. She then lifted her right claw and slowly wrapped it around his neck. He felt each talon tightened around his neck, deeply penetrating onto his skin, though not deep enough to break. His eyes bulged slightly, and he felt himself lifted up off the ground by the hen.
He was lifted until he was eye to eye with her. He felt the claw tighten again, but it was not enough to choke his breath. She held him there, her face near inches from his. He could feel her breath as she breathed heavily through her nostrils, her anger ever apparent.
“It’s… not…. important,“ she seethed, growling through her teeth. He shivered slightly from the sight.
“I… just wanted… to know,” Quicksilver gagged through each breath. He still hung in her claw, and he was surprised when he was lifted even higher, nearly touching the top of the tent. Gretchen then pulled him closer his nose, almost touching her beak.
“It’s personal. It’s something that you can’t understand,” she said as she tossed him back to the ground. He landed hard back on the blanket, knocking aside the empty bowl. He groaned as his body ached, and he curled slightly from the pain. He looked back at Gretchen, but she had already gone back to her bed. She padded the hay for a moment before nestling herself.
“I’ll only say this once: Don’t ask things that are private, Fletching,” she said, the anger in her voice still lingering. “It can get you into trouble,” she said as she rested back on the tent.
Quicksilver, still reeling from being tossed to the ground, remained where he was. His breathing had returned to normal, but his heart kept hammering in his chest. As the moments passed, he could only imagine the things that her uncle had said. He could take any number of guesses at what she was upset about. A loss of a friend, bad news from home, anything. He didn’t know what it could be, but as far as he could tell, this would likely linger for some time.
He soon wrapped the blanket around him and tried to get some sleep. He went and felt his neck, right where she held him. A sudden chill ran up his body.
It was not from the cold.
***
Morning came and Quicksilver felt groggy as he stirred. He lifted the blanket off of him, the warmth leaving him the instant it moved, and he observed the tent.
Gretchen was no longer inside, likely busy with her brother or uncle. It was probably for the best. There was no telling how long she would need to cool off from whatever had aggravated her. Checking under the blanket, he saw the stone still nestled underneath. Whatever the stone was for, he knew he didn’t need it now. He covered the stone once again and sat up from his bed. After stretching his sore legs, he took a breath and exited out the tent.
Warden was present next to him, his eyes focused off in a random direction, same as any guard. Everything else appeared rather normal; the guards were doing patrols or walking about the camp. Snow was everywhere, fresh from the recent downfall. He then turned to Warden, his mute guard now looking at him and still saying nothing.
Indeed, everything was normal with this gryphon.
“Mind taking me to where I can get something to eat?” Quicksilver asked. The guard, with a grunt of acknowledgement, began marching down the hill. Quicksilver followed, his body still aching from the past days labor. His muscles felt stronger, but the meager food he has been given was not enough to sustain him. Plus, he still felt tender from last night’s ‘toss-a-pegasus’ by Gretchen. Having his mind on food, he kept following at a leisurely pace. He was halfway towards the center of camp when his ears picked up a strange noise nearby.
It was the clacking of wood.
Turning to his left, he saw a few gryphons moving about in an open area. Curiosity getting the better of him, he turned to see what the new furor was about. As he moved, he heard his silent guard stop moving, his armor clacking together from the sudden stop, and he began following behind him. Quicksilver knew he wouldn’t leave him out of his sight, and for good reason. He knew that the nomad gryphons still harbored some hatred against him, so Warden was not going to leave his side. Quicksilver didn’t mind the company; he wanted to be silent anyway. As he approached the end of the tents, he finally saw what the new commotion was about.
It was Gretchen, and she was training.
Gretchen had a wooden spear in her claw and was wearing leather armor over body. Her opponent, a noble gryphon by the looks of it, was sparring with her and holding a wooden sword. Gretchen parried and struck at her opponent, clashing her weapon with his every few seconds. Gretchen then took to the air, kicking up snow up with her, and attacked downward. Her opponent blocked the blow with the end of his sword and deflected it away.
Quicksilver blinked a few times, thinking he was still asleep.
Around him, he didn't see any other gryphon paying attention, other than a few of the minotaurs. Some of them watched intently, and a few of them folded their massive arms over one another, pleased when either opponent struck a blow against one another. Quicksilver lifted a brow. He wondered why they would even watch a practice fight, but he could only guess that they respected strength or had a hidden admiration for their gryphon friends. Whatever the case, they were approving of the fight and kept silent as they watched.
Quicksilver turned back to Gretchen and the noble gryphon, watching as she dive-kicked toward him again. He braced from the impact, and when she struck, he twisted her in the opposite direction. She spun in the air for a brief moment before landing gracefully, skidding on the snow from the impact, before charging again with her spear. She was determined and she was on a mission to down her opponent.
Quicksilver could not help but be mesmerized by it.
For the next few moments, the two exchanged blows, both sides dealing feints and parrys and trying to get past the other’s defense. Quiksilver, by now, was sitting down and simply watching the spectacle. Both sides were evenly matched and each gryphon wanted to best the other in some way or form. Though the noble gryphon had a good defense, Gretchen was much faster.
“I see you’re enjoying this fight?” a voice muttered to his side. He looked and saw a gryphon he did not expect.
“Deadeye?” Quicksilver asked as the scarred soldier approached him on his right, also staring at the battle taking place. He didn’t say reply at first, only watching the two fighters have their bout.
Quicksilver turned back to the battle. Both combatants were showing some fatigue now.
“She wasn’t always like this, you know,” the gryphon said in a relaxed tone. Quicksilver looked to Deadeye, who continued to watch the two combatants. “She used to be far different than what she is now.” Gretchen parried a low blow and staggered back from a backclaw from her opponent. She roared in rage and charged again, now putting her aggressor on the defensive.
“Why are you telling me? I’m only an enemy to you,” Quicksilver said, turning his attention back to the fight.
“I know. But you showed strength within you when you stood up to that bloody cunt colonel, and I respect that,” Deadeye replied, adjusting himself until he was sitting on the snow. “But there are things in this world that compels one to do many marvels. Even when it is deemed unprecedented or confounds one into thinking it’s wrong, when it might be the opposite.”
Quicksilver nodded. “You’re quite the thinker, aren't’ you?” Quicksilver said. A rough chuckle came from the warrior gryphon.
“I can be both a merciless fighter in the battlefield and genteel in the courts at home. I’m sure no gryphon would see such weakness in me out here then if we were back in our roosts.”
“A states-gryphon and a warrior. That almost suits you,” Quicksilver said without thinking. He quickly berated himself for saying it, but he heard another laugh from the gryphon instead.
“Almost is, way you’re putting it. The true one would be Uncle Quill, for that matter,” This drew Quicksilver’s attention again. Was he mentioning some family with the same name, or was he referring to General Quill?
“What do you mean, Uncle?”
“Well, General Quill of course. Were you expecting any better?” he said without a break.
Quicksilver eyed him with mild skepticism. He then thought for a moment, and began to piece the puzzles together. Gretchen and Ebon had the same feather coloration, yet their uncle had the blue complexion instead. Quicksilver looked at Deadeye directly and his mind was riddled with questions. As he stared at Deadeye, he took notice that his silent Warden was no longer nearby. He didn’t know why he was gone, or comprehend how a gryphon of that size and in heavy armor would slip away, but his mind didn’t linger on it.
“That doesn't make any sense. You have blue eyes and that is same with General Quill. But Gretchen and Ebon have both red feathers. How does that work?” he said.
Deadeye continued to watch the battle unfold. Both Gretchen and her opponent took to the air and were dancing with their weapons in claw.
“It’s because I am their nest sibling, pegasus.” he said, which made Quicksilver all more confused. He was doubtful that Gretchen had any other siblings, but it didn’t make a salt lick of sense as to how he was related to them.
Deadeye, taking notice of Quicksilver’s doubtful expression continued. “When I was but a fledgling, my mother passed away during my birth. My father had already died even before the war, and I didn’t have any other family to help me. General Quill was a close friend to my family, and with some help from his sister, she took me in as her own, and that time she had Gretchen. I was a part of their nest and I became part of their family. I grew under their roost.” He paused, letting the words sink into Quicksilver, who was still continuing to try and piece this together.
“To explain our feathers is quite simple. My family had blue feathers in their genes, yet Gretchen’s mother had blue feathers, but the father had the red, which was dominant on his side of the family. The genetics continued in the line so… bah… I’m going off topic,” he said as he watched Gretchen and her opponent arc upward and begin clashing their weapons once again.
Quicksilver also turned his gaze back to them, continuing to be mesmerized. Gretchen flapped her wings and spun in wide arcs, at the same time clashing her spear against her opponent, and causing him to lose his balance.
The battle was not going to last much longer.
“My point being, pegasus,” Deadeye continued, not lifting his gaze from the two warriors, “Despite the differences, we are family. If all but blood that runs through our veins, we are still family. That is most important in our society, pegasus. Remember this well, for bonds between gryphon kin is much stronger than you can imagine,” he said as he watched the battle now take a new turn.
Gretchen flew ever higher, spinning in arcs before clashing directly into her opponent. The two came crashing down in a mangled pile of limbs and feathers; yet, despite the crash, it was the hen that came out on top. She stood triumphant over her her defeated opponent, the latter breathing in exhaustion and clutching his chest from the impact. Gretchen looked up into the air, savoring her hard fought victory. She then looked over and noticed Quicksilver watching her. She narrowed her eyes, as if she had bore deep distaste of him, and promptly looked away. Quicksilver’s ears fell to the side as she brought her fighting companion back on his paws.
He would need to take Deadeye’s words to heart if he was to understand what was truly hounding her mind.
As he thought what he might do to help break the ice, a loud horn sounded near the edge of camp. Every gryphon around him had stopped at what they were doing and turned their attention to the sound. Even when he looked at Deadeye, the veteran had a look of worry on his face, something that Quicksilver never seen before. The horn blew once more and they immediately took off toward the front entrance of the cave, including Gretchen who had a scared look on her face. Quicksilver didn’t know what it could be, but he was prompted to follow them.
Chasing after the gryphons, he could see a number of gryphons scattering about the place, gathering blankets, beds, and even medical supplies. As he drew closer, he saw at least a hundred gryphons moving about the front entrance of the cave, all frantic and trying to organize something, but everything looked to be in a panic. He stopped in place and saw what they were all frantic about.
They were bringing in wounded.
At least a dozen of gryphons were being brought in, all heavily wounded. He saw some scream out as they were clutching at their wounds, while a few others were being carried on stretchers into makeshift pavilions. The others were being placed out on their blankets and cots. Other gryphons began to help bandage their companions, while others were trying their best to stabilize their most severe cases. Quicksilver then saw some more bringing at least a half dozen large boars to the butcher tent. He could only guess that it was the hunting party that was sent out days before.
“What is happening? What’s going on?” Quicksilver turned and saw the Arch Gryphon, Felix, running out to him with many of his things. He carried his necklace around his neck and the small crystals jangled around as he moved. He stopped and took a breath when he stood next to Quicksilver. One of his claws was on his chest while the other clutched tightly on his staff. It seemed the gryphon didn’t get out much.
“Quicksilver, is it? Tell me what’s happening,” Felix asked as he caught his breath. Quicksilver looked at him with a curious look; Felix had acknowledged him by his given name than being called ‘pegasus’ or ‘Fletchling’.
“Your guess is good as mine, but it would seem that they were ambushed,” he said.
The Arch Gryphon shook his head. “These lands are beset by conflict, and we have the strongest warriors here. What could have bested them so?” he said in a contemplative tone. Quicksilver looked at him warily until Felix turned to see him.
“I need some help, come with me,” he said, pulling Quicksilver towards the mess of bloodied and wounded survivors. It didn’t take them long to reach the center of the mass of gryphons. The noise was deafening. Gryphons were giving out orders that intermixed with the cries of their fallen brethren. It was chaotic and little to no order was in sight. Felix lead him to where they were preparing a triage for the most severe injuries. Felix then went to the nearest gryphon. He had a head injury and several cuts on his chest.
“He’ll need some salve,” he said, as opened his bag. After searching the contents within, he found a small vial and turned to Quicksilver.
“I need you to open your hooves, Quicksilver,” Felix said. The befuddled pegasus did as he was told. Felix opened the vial and poured the contents onto his hooves. Quicksilver looked at the liquid as it ran down his front legs. He didn’t know what it could be, but Felix must have known what he was doing.
“Okay, I need you to place your hooves over his wounds here,” he said, pointing a talon directly on the wound. Quicksilver nodded and placed the salved hooves onto the wound of the nomad gryphon. The gryphon flinched a little as the salve was applied to the wound. As Quicksilver moved his hooves over the wound, Felix was already bandaging the nomad’s wounded head. After he was done, Felix went and began to bandage the cuts on his chest. After this was done, he turned to Quicksilver and grabbed his things.
“He should be fine. There are more patients to deal with.”
For the next thirty minutes, Felix moved from one wounded soldier to the next, continuing to help his fellow gryphons with his healing. As this occurred, he saw Gretchen in the midst, helping clean the wounds and bandage them as best as she could. Despite the exertion from her bout earlier, she still had the stamina to help. Her face showed much concern, and she tried to soothe the soldiers that were still conscious.
Though she did well with helping the wounded, Felix was something else all together. The Arch Gryphon continued to surprise Quicksilver, helping multiple gryphons within a few minutes of each other before focusing on the next soldier. When he first met him yesterday, he looked like all the other gryphons, only slightly more curious than for his own good. Possibly more of an egghead due to his insatiable quest for knowledge.
Now, however, Quicksilver was taken aback by his duty. Not only was he focused on the task at hoof, but he never backed down in helping these wounded. Whether they were Nomads or Nobles, he helped everyone and didn’t ask anything else in return.
He was the most selfless gryphon that Quicksilver had ever seen.
Continuing to help with the wounded, Quicksilver overheard Ebon delivering orders and calming the situation somewhat. The chatter and panic from earlier had diminished, but the urgency to get the wounded treated remained. Ebon tried to ask what had happened, but Quicksilver could only hear jumbled words from the gryphons that spoke to him. Whatever he could make of the slurred words and frantic speaking, it was obvious now that it was indeed an ambush. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed two familiar gryphons speaking with Ebon. They were Talon Wing and Sky Rider, both already patched up by the other healers.They were speaking low and their conversation was lost over the the noise of the other gryphons.
“Oh, blessed Gregor,” Felix said, distracting him from his thoughts. Quicksilver turned and he saw that Felix was staring at a young Noble gryphon. He had a small hole in his stomach, most likely gored, and he clutched it with both of his claws. He was groaning softly, and blood trickled down the side of his beak. He also noticed a broken arrow shaft imbedded deeply into his left side.The young blood was barely alive, and by all accounts, should’ve already been dead.
“This will be tricky,” Quicksilver heard Felix say as he pondered on how to proceed. “Quicksilver, I need you to place your hooves on his wound. I need to perform something.” Quicksilver quickly did as he was told. He felt blood surge from the wound as he pressed the young blood’s wound. The young Noble cringed and struggled with breath. As Quicksilver held him there, he watched as Felix grabbed one of the crystals off of his necklace and clutched it tightly in his right claw.
“Quicksilver, remove the shaft from his side. Do it on my command,” he said, closing his eyes as he began to make a small incantation. Once Quicksilver removed his hooves off of the young blood’s wound, Felix immediately placed his left claw over the wound, pressing firmly against the flesh and continuing his chant. The young blood continued to groan and his breath grew ragged as every second passed. Quicksilver wrapped his hooves around the arrow shaft, clutching it tightly as he waited for Felix. Just then, he looked at the crushed crystal and saw something he did not expect.
The Arch Gryphon was performing magic.
“By the light of Geneva and her son, Saint Gregor, give me thy strength,” he said as a blue aura appeared around the shards of the crystal. The magic danced around his arm, flickering and spinning in small arcs around his claw. Quicksilver, in all of his life, never seen a gryphon perform magic.
“Remove the shaft. Now!” he demanded, and Quicksilver quickly compiled. He removed the shaft, bits of flesh coming out as he did. The young blood groaned once more (though not once did he scream), meaning there could be something internal causing him discomfort. Felix placed his right claw over his left and pressed onto the wound, the magic stirring and dancing as it went on to the wound. The magic reacted when it touched the fur and feathers, the aura moving frantically in place as he did his work. The young blood began to thrash, his eyes bulging wide as the magic did it’s work.
“Hold his wound, please!” Felix said, the youth struggling underneath him as he continued to to do his magic. Quicksilver, reacting quickly, held his hooves over Felix’s and pressed down hard, blood staining his coat once again.
The magic was wrapping and dancing around his hooves now. Feeling the magic course through him was different, yet at the same time familiar. It was a cool sensation as it went though his hooves and going back down toward the young blood. In a way, it reminded how the magic worked in Equestria, different, yet familiar. A series of lights coursed through the magic, entering inside the youth. After a few moments, the magic slowly ceased entering inside the young blood. When it was done, the young Noble was still and Felix’s removed his claws from the wound. Quicksilver did the same and he saw that the wound was completely sealed, with no signs of any carnage of the gored wound. Looking to the side, the arrow wound had also healed up, with only the stained blood remaining. Felix immediately placed a claw behind the young bloods head and lifted it up, a soft whisper escaping his beak.
“Oh youth, son of the precious father. Please rise to meet his graces,” he said, his head nearly touching the youths as he continued to repeat his words. After a few moments of uneasy silence, the youth immediately opened his eyes and coughed. Blood sputtering out, getting mostly on Felix and some landing over Quicksilver's face.The young blood lurched his head back and breathed, swallowing down deep breaths as if for the first time. He coughed as he breath, still desperate to take the air in. Felix, still stunned from the blood that was on him, patted the youth’s shoulder and breathed a deep sigh. The young blood’s eyes flickered open a few times, looking at the Arch Gryphon first, and then turning to stare at Quiksilver. He managed to cock his head slightly, a look of uncertainty plain on his face, until his head collapsed on the ground and was unconscious.
Quicksilver didn’t know why he gave him that look, but he felt in his heart that he was alright.
He turned to Felix, ready to congratulate him on the success. However, the gryphon had a look of shock on his countenance. Felix lifted a claw up to his face, shaking all the while. He pressed it against the blood and quickly drew back, inspecting the red liquid that went down his claw. His eyes widened at this, and he drew in short quick breaths. After staring at it for a few moments, the Arch Gryphon puffed out his cheeks in revulsion. He then turned to his side and heaved out whatever he had in his stomach onto the stone floor. He did this a couple times, doing it away from the youth, as Quicksilver watched helplessly as he threw up once again. Acting on instinct, Quicksilver moved to his side and placed a hoof on Felix’s back. Felix remained hunched, spitting out the last of the bile that remained his mouth before coughing up a storm. Quicksilver wondered if the magic he used in that crystal was a side effect and was causing him harm, but his fears were elevated when his breathing was returning to normal.
“Are you, alright?” It was a common and stupid question to ask in these kinds of situations, but it had to be asked. Felix lifted his head, spitting out whatever remained in his mouth and took a steady breath.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t have…” he said as he gave another quick cough.
“But you saved him, Felix. That’s something that is beyond me,” Quicksilver said.
Felix shook his head. “No… I improvised.”
Quicksilver blinked at him as Felix removed the spittle at his mouth and began to stand properly.
“You… you did what?” Quicksilver asked, looking more surprised as the Arch Gryphon composed himself.
“Quicksilver, I have dealt with many wounds when I was at Gryphonstone. I only dealt with minor injuries such as small cuts, scratches, even cast a broken wing. But never, never in my life, did I have to deal with this.” He gestured to the injured soldiers around him. Quicksilver cast his gaze and saw that most of the wounded have started to settle, while only a few others needing attention. “This is just…” he continued, only pausing to wipe away some the blood off his face.
“This carnage is beyond me,” he said as he shook his head. Quicksilver remained where he was, sitting idly by as Felix tried to remove the last of the blood off of his face. As he stayed, he looked about the encampment once again and noticed a Nomad Gryphon he didn’t want to see. Sharp Beak was moving about the group, shouting orders to the Noble gryphons and demanding treatment for his own soldiers. He had a few scratches on his chest and legs, but no serious injuries.
Quicksilver wished he had.
The colonel, after shouting at the top of his lungs to his subordinates, cast his gaze onto Quicksilver. The two locked eyes briefly before they were separated by oncoming gryphons, but in that moment, the Nomad gryphon had deep hatred in his eyes. Quicksilver knew in his heart that Sharp Beak would take his aggression out on him.
It would be only a matter of time when that dam of rage and hatred would break.
***
Silverwing looked out upon the expanse of the plains. They had traveled for only a day, but progress was still slow. The storm had lifted for the time being, but it left such a huge mess in its wake. Snow piled high all around them and onto the road; in some areas, it came up past their knees and it was a difficult process in slogging their way through the hard packed snow. With every hour, it seemed to only to get worse, and for every waking moment out on the fields, they knew it would only get colder and colder as the days went by.
“Captain Silverwing,” she heard Shadow Hunter say. She turned to see the old veteran wrapped in a thick cape. “Captain, the guard and the militia are breaking camp. We should be ready to leave within the hour,” he explained.
Silverwing merely grunted in approval. She looked out toward the distance, seeing the mountains and their high peaks. They looked so far away, yet she felt that if she would but fly and close that distance, she would already be seeing her brother. However, she was here and he was there, and the distance between them was closing.
“Strange, is it not?” Shadow Hunter said as he looked out on the plains with her. “Winter's reach has brushed past us, and we are but saplings against this storm. The wind cuts to the bone and you're not even shaking-” he paused in his words, looking at the silent captain.
“Silverwing… Are you alright?” he asked, uncertain if his words even went through to her. Silverwing blinked a couple times and turned her head to Shadow Hunter.
“I’m fine,” she said, clearing her throat and looking out to the distance again. “What word of Strong Oak and his rangers?” she asked, hoping to stir the conversation. It appeared to have worked when Shadow Hunter adjusted himself.
“Well, they scouted early this morning to find any movements or disturbed areas. They returned not too long ago and reported that there were no such findings,” he explained.
Silverwing took the information with assurity. As long as there was no trouble between them and getting her brother, then they would have nothing to worry about.
“By the way, captain,” Shadow Hunter added. “The Diamond Dog, Brutus, has been stirring as of late. I think he might be able to talk.”
Silverwing looked at him. She thought for certain that the Diamond Dog would not speak, or even keep silent during their trip. She was not sure what made the change, but one thing was clear: She would get to the bottom of this.
“Thank you, Shadow Hunter. Please take me to him.”
The two then proceeded down to the the encampment, the line of soldiers already finishing packing their tents and storing them into the wagons. Other finished their meals and were quickly putting out the fires, except for one that continued to burn near the center. The lone Diamond Dog sat, his back turned to the approaching ponies. Silverwing could smell the burnt flesh on the small spike, smoke emanating from a burnt carcass of a rabbit. Though she has seen the bones of a Diamond Dog’s kill, she had not seen one eat up close. The Diamond Dog was cooking a rabbit of sorts, the skin cleaned and its fur settled on the side. He also had a disarmed trap nearby, most likely the tool he used to catch the rabbit.
Perhaps he is more intelligent than we believed, Silverwing thought.
“Well, I’ll leave you two to it,” Shadow Hunter said. Silverwing noticed some uneasiness in his voice, most likely from the meat that was being cooked. She couldn’t blame him; most ponies couldn't stand the sight of another animal being eaten. Shaking the thought out, she moved ever closer to Brutus. When she was near his side, she noticed a neutral expression on his countenance.
“You come to kill me yet?” he asked suddenly, not turning to her as she flinched at his remark.
“No, I have not come to kill. Only talk,” she replied. Brutus only huffed out in response.
“Typical.” He spoke flatly, almost sounding disappointed, as he continued to look over his meal. Silverwing knew she had to to break the ice somehow, but there was little no no option as to how to proceed.
“I was told you've calmed since last we spoke. Are you up to-”
“Ponies are going to die out here,” he interrupted, taking some herbs from his pouch and spreading across the meat. “They know not what’s out upon the plains.”
Silverwing took a deep breath and sighed. It was not the first time that she was interrupted, and she knew it would not be the last. Clearing her throat, she began again.
“I know there are dangers out here, Brutus, but I know that my soldiers here and my allies will prevail,” she said with optimism. Brutus remained unconvinced.
“You have courage, but that would only get you so far. What happens when they come for you? When beasts of hide and iron come stomping on your heads?” Brutus said, his gaze fixated on the meat before him. He turned it over the spike, letting each side gain an even amount of heat.
“Then we’ll be prepared to meet them. Whoever they may be, we will fight them,” she said, having stout in her heart. Brutus paused in his cooking to look at her, his beady blue eyes staring back at him as if they were finally recognized her. She hoped that she would show some conviction within him, and stir his pained heart so that they have a chance out in the wilderness. After a few moments of uneasy silence, Brutus shook his head and returned his gaze back at the food.
“Such bravery for one who is so blind,” he said, turning the meat over once more, “You cannot defeat a force that knows only rage,” he said as he picked up the end of the spit, lifting the meat off of its little stand, “They are larger than you, bigger than deer folk, and just as strong as the Taur,” he said as he took a whiff of the meat, savoring the flesh as the steam rose in the morning sky.
“Taur… Taur. Wait...you mean the Minotaurs from Tartarus?” she asked. The Diamond Dog held his pose, keeping his meal inches from his face. He turned his head slightly, his eyes staring at her in a questioning gaze.
“Equestrian language is difficult for me. But, yes. The Cloven ones are just as strong as the Taurs,” he said as he looked back at his meal. “The Cloven ones will fight and fight and fight, and they will not stop their savagery until they win or they die. For this land once belonged to them. Heard the warriors say you’re trying to find family. If the cloven ones have him, then you will find him in darkness, where the barren mountains tower over the bottomless canyon rocks. The cloven ones once ruled this land, and to those who venture deeper, few shall ever return. Mark Brutus’s words, the Horned King of the North will come for ponies.” He finished as he took a big bite and tearing flesh from the meat. The lone pegasus captain did nothing, lost in deep thought.