Why Me, Though?

by Jake The Army Guy


Why NOT you?

“What do you think of this one?” Sandbar said, holding up a reddish-orange scarf and draping one end around his neck.

“It’s fine,” Gallus said, inspecting his talons. They were getting a bit sharp. He decided to file them down again once he got back to the dorms.

Sandbar blinked. “That’s what you said about the last three.”

“Yeah, and they were all fine.”

“Oh, I see,” Sandbar said. He once more flashed that doofus smile of his and dove back into the rack of scarves.

Gallus sighed and turned his head to look around the street, flicking his leonine tail to dislodge a bit of snow. It wasn’t what he would even consider “snowing.” It was just tiny little flakes lazily drifting down and settling on Market Street, Ponyville’s open-air shopping strip. Located in the heart of the town, he and Sandbar were on the northern side of the market, where clothing, baubles, and all sorts of random knick-knacks and crafted goods could be bought.

For Hearth’s Warming Eve, there were a surprising number of ponies mulling around, perusing shops and chatting with friends and family. Even more surprising to Gallus, almost none of them seemed stressed or frantic in any way. He would have thought anyone shopping “the day before” would be running around like a sighted field mouse, desperately trying to find a gift for some loved one they saw once or twice a year and had completely forgotten about. Then again, based on his past two years in Equestria, ponies didn’t really operate like that. Here, if you were family, you were family, and were always a welcome sight. Back in Griffonstone, if you were family, you were an obligation, one to be given the barest illusion of tolerance by others. Which is why he more and more wished to never return home. In Equestria, he could at least be that.

“Okay, how about this one?” Sandbar asked. “This one really vibes with me, I think!”

With a sigh, Gallus turned and glanced at Sandbar. The faintest bit of heat cut through the soft, frigid wind as he saw his closest friend wearing that dang surfer-dude smile, holding a deep viridian scarf against his neck. Tiny bands of navy blue ran through it at seemingly random intervals. Feathers ruffled a bit, he returned his eyes to the street. “It’s... I don’t know, it’s fine, I guess.”

For a few moments, the only sounds to be heard were the light whispers of conversation from around the street, and the cold, gentle breeze. Then a hoof laid on his shoulder, causing him to twitch and look back at Sandbar, now standing next to him with concern in his eyes. “Dude, are you okay? Like, I don’t want to be harsh or anything, but ever since we left the dorms, you’ve been a bit... well, grumpy.”

“Gee, I wonder why?” Gallus said with a roll of his eyes, taking just a big enough step to get beyond the reach of his hoof. “It’s almost like someone dragged me out of my room just to stand in the freezing open market to look at fabric.”

“Hey, it’s not just for scarves,” Sandbar said. “I also want to pick up one last gift for Corral!”

“You told me you already bought her five presents.”

“Yeah, but I really want her to remember this Hearth’s Warming.”

“Isn’t she like three?”

“I know. It’s her formative years!” Sandbar said. “Also, didn’t Professor Fluttershy once tell us that griffons aren’t as sensitive to cold as ponies are?”

“We aren’t, but that doesn’t mean we like it,” Gallus said, fidgeting with the fluffy vest Ocellus had made for him. He let out a sigh. “Look, dude, I don’t know anything about scarves, or what your baby sister would want for Hearth’s Warming. I’m just gonna head back to the dorms, all right? I’ll be there at your place for dinner tomorrow like I said.” He turned and spread his wings, but before he could take wing, Sandbar gently tugged on his tail, causing him to let out a little squeak. He whirled around to glare at him, but any chiding or harsh words died on his tongue and a faint heat graced his cheeks upon seeing what almost looked like hurt in those sparkling green eyes.

“Please don’t go,” Sandbar said gently. “I’m... I’m sorry if I did something to tick you off. Is that why you’re so eager to leave?”

“What? No! It’s...” Gallus let out something between a growl and a sigh, running a claw through his blue-and-yellow crest feathers. “Look, I know that for you ponies, Hearth’s Warming Eve is all about family and stuff. You sit around a fire, wear ugly sweaters, sing cheesy songs, and all that sappy nonsense. I know it's a big deal for you, you've told me a bajillion times. I just... don’t want you to miss out on that because of me, okay?”

Sandbar’s eyes went wide. “Bro, I’m not missing out on anything! Yeah, Hearth’s Warming is about family. That’s why I invited you to have dinner with my family! So you can share that with us.”

“Oh, so that’s what this is,” Gallus said, eyes narrowing a bit. “That’s why you invited me? Because you felt sorry for the ‘orphan?’”

A lot more hurt, and just a little bit of anger flashed in Sandbar’s eyes. “Gallus, you know I don’t think of you like that.”

“Then why, huh?” Gallus’ voice was rising in volume, almost in sync with the growing weight in his chest. “Why are you spending one of the most important pony holidays with me instead of your family?”

“Dude, I wanted to spend this time with you,” Sandbar said with such utter sincerity that his tone by itself nearly knocked all the wind out of his sails. “I mean, the School of Friendship is in my hometown. I can hang out with my family any time I want, but... I don’t always get to spend time with you. Besides, I know you agreed to dinner tomorrow, but you’ve been cooped up in the dorms since the others went back to their homes. Ha, ‘cooped’ up!” He very obviously cringed under the weight of Gallus’ deadpan glare. “Uh, a-anyway, I just wanted to get you out for a bit. Enjoy the season, you know?”

For some reason, Gallus simultaneously felt his body relax and his pulse quicken from the genuine care shown in those words. He looked away, suddenly finding the snow beneath his paws very interesting. “Okay, but...” his beak clacked several times as he fought to find the words, “y-you should be spending this time with those most special to you, not... not me.”

There were a few lingering moments that followed, then Gallus suddenly felt Sandbar’s hoof on the side of his beak. The contact was incredibly light, and lasted just long enough to guide Gallus’ eyes back to Sandbar’s. He swore he could hear snow on his cheeks sizzling under the flamed heat as Sandbar tossed his head to the side, dislodging his shaggy mane from those warm, glittering eyes. “Gallus... you’re just as important to me as my family, maybe even more so! I mean... you’re my friend!” The gentle bustle of the market seemed to fade into nothing as he once more flashed that darned aloof smirk of his. “I don’t care about you because I have to, but because I choose to. I care about you because I look at you, I see who you are, and I, I don’t know... like what I see.”

Feathers suddenly fluffed, Gallus took a half step back and looked to the side, terrified Sandbar would either notice the searing blush on his cheeks, or even hear the pounding of his heart. A blustering series of coughs and sputters escaped his beak before he finally regained control over his traitorous body. His mind raced to find something, anything to dismantle the actually quite soothing atmosphere between them. “Mmm... ngrh, green one...” he mumbled.

“Uh... come again?”

With a heavy sigh, Gallus finally turned back to face him, though his eyes were still cast aside. “I said you should get the green scarf. It... m-makes your eyes pop.”

Sandbar blinked, then trotted back to the rack, plucking out the green-with-blue-stripes scarf. He twirled it around his neck, then stepped before the mirror. “Hey, what do you know? You’re right! Great call, dude.” As Gallus endured another bout of flaming cheeks, Sandbar brought a section of the scarf closer to his face. “You know, when you look at it in this light, the shade of blue in those stripes almost reminds me of—”

“I’ll go see if I can find a present for Corral,” Gallus squawked, hurriedly walking to a stall the other side of the street.

Once more, Sandbar blinked. “What? What’d I say? Ah, well,” he said with a shrug, reaching into his saddlebag for his bit sack. “Heh, he’s pretty cute when he’s flustered.”