A few of the ponies of Ponyville had begun to rouse, and there were a couple of early-risers walking the streets. Were it any other village, the sight of an unfamiliar griffon and two armed ponies would be cause for concern.
In Ponyville, it was Tuesday.
Rarity’s horn lit, her field fidgeting with the rifle slung across her back. If griffon guns could be uncomfortable for ponies to use, they were perhaps even worse to carry. “You’re saying Twilight was completely comatose?”
“Yes,” replied Fluttershy, “She was just, um, stacked in the books.”
Rarity rolled her eyes. “Hardly unusual, I suppose.”
“You don’t understand. I mean stacked. It was difficult to tell where the books ended and the Twilight began. And the smell.” Fluttershy shivered. “I don't think Spike gets paid enough”
Rarity stopped in the street, tilting her head in confusion. “Spike gets paid?”
Fluttershy shrugged. “Apparently. That’s what he said at least.”
“Huh. I suppose that does explain how he can afford to buy those, er– ” Rarity tapped a back foot in frustration, her brain failing to think of the proper word. “–books? With pictures of mares in costumes in them?”
Fluttershy’s eyes widened, cheeks blushing slightly. “Oh wow, he’s old enough to buy those? I never would have thought.” She paused thoughtfully. “Though, I suppose it does explain why he has to buy them. I don’t think Twilight would stock something like that in the public library.”
“What? Darling, I don’t think Twilight would have any problems with – oh my, you mean, oh! No, that’s not– ”
“Will you two get a move on?” the griffon shouted back towards the two mares. “Honestly, the nerve!” He scoffed, shaking his head in disappointment. “To make your guest wait not once, but twice, and to still have the audacity to dawdle? Absurd, patently absurd.”
The volume of the outburst shocked the girls out of their conversation. They, slightly browbeaten, trotted back up to the ambassador, various bits of Rarity’s kit jangling about.
The griffon turned back forwards. “Now, let’s hurry back to your – ahem – charming cottage, warden – ”
Fluttershy glared at him with the one eye visible around her mane.
“–and pick up some provisions so we can finally venture on” He sped up his pace. “Now, do come on, hmm?”
The griffon stuck his head through the front door. “If available, pack a shooter’s sandwich with Cremini mushrooms, not Shiitake. And don’t skimp on the mustard!” The door shut.
The two mares stared at each other in Fluttershy’s kitchen. Eventually, Fluttershy spoke. “So, uh, do you know what a ‘shooter’s sandwich’ is?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Oh. I thought maybe you would, because of, y’know,” she pointed at the rifle on Rarity’s back. “the shooting.”
Rarity giggled, her face breaking into a broad smile. “Oh! No, sorry to disappoint. That was clever, though. Good guess!”
Fluttershy’s face lifted, and the two mares grinned at each other for a few seconds, savoring the first truly pleasant moment of the day. A thump on the front door brought them back to the immediate circumstances, and both broke back into frowns.
“So, uh, Rarity, I, um, want to apologize for getting you– ”
Rarity silenced her with a hoof, then placed it on Fluttershy’s shoulder. “No, don’t apologize for anything. It’s not your fault our monarchs are clearly inept.”
“Oh, um, I don’t know about that…”
Rarity rolled her eyes. “Luna apparently has no idea what one of her national heroines actually does, Celestia apparently can’t write a treaty to save her life, and our newest, bravest, most special-ist princess of all Her Majesty Twilight Sparkle is apparently both a moron and a low-functioning stimulant addict. We’re looking at oh for three, Fluttershy.”
Fluttershy lifted a hoof in retort before deciding that, yeah, that was pretty much correct.
Rarity continued. “Enough about that, and forget about me, darling. I’m here to help a friend, and that’s what friends are for, even if I can’t help but think that I’m not exactly the ideal choice out of the girls for this one. Much more importantly, are you going to be able to do this?”
Fluttershy looked at her meager pantry. “Um, I still don’t really know what kind of sandwich he’s talking about, and I don’t have any bread here, so, um, probably not.”
Rarity stared, dumbfounded. “What? What does bread – oh, no, not the sandwich, the whole, y’know, hunting thing? Going into a forest and–” she drew a hoof across her throat “–k–killing some poor creature?”.
“Oh.” Fluttershy relaxed. “Yes, mostly.”
“I mean the thought of it, poor Fluttershy, forced to undertake the barbaric – what?”
Fluttershy shrugged. “I, um, haven’t exactly done anything quite like this before, but overall it’s not anything new. I do take care of carnivores, after all.” She selected a pair of rough-looking saddlebags hanging on a hook on her kitchen wall, opening up the left bag before stepping over to her pantry. “I hope you like, um, rice cakes.”
“You don’t mean to tell me you’ve hunted something before?”
Fluttershy swept a few crusty-looking crisps into the saddlebag with a wing. “Not quite, but I do occasionally have to, um, help an older animal on the way out, and it would be a waste not to use their body to feed something else.”
Rarity cringed. “I suppose so, dear, although I must admit I find it a little barbaric.”
Fluttershy shrugged. “It’s nature.” She walked back to her cabinetry, pulling out a drawer and peering in. “I’m not particularly excited about the idea of, um, cleaning game in the middle of the Everfree forest, but I must admit there are a few older individuals in some of the herds that could do with an, er, culling.” She removed a birch handled knife in a light wooden scabbard from the drawer, stashing it in right side of her saddlebags.
“Ah.” Rarity visibly relaxed. “Well, I suppose it’s shame on me for assuming.” She peered into the still-ajar drawer, spotting several other field knives. While Rarity wasn’t a knife expert, she was surprised at how expensive some of them looked. “I must say, you seem far more confident in this quest than I.”
“Oh, not at all!” Fluttershy smiled sweetly at Rarity. “You misunderstand. I am comfortable with the premise of a hunting trip.” She took a step towards Rarity, eyes widening. “I am absolutely scared shitless of actually doing it.”
“Oh.” Rarity was shocked; that was perhaps the strongest profanity she had ever heard the usually demure mare utter.
“Mmm, quite.” Fluttershy kicked the drawer closed.
“Er, may I ask why?”
Fluttershy pointed out the window. “Him, Rarity, that’s why I’m scared.”
Rarity scoffed. “Ah! Well, he may be a little threatening, but I assure you nobles like him are all puffed feathers and big egos. Nothing to worry about there.”
Fluttershy shook her head. “No, Rarity, not of him. I’m scared that he’s going to get us all killed out there.”
“K-killed?” Rarity’s pupils shot to the size of tea saucers.
“Yeah, killed. Just because I go in it sometimes doesn’t mean the Everfree isn’t a terrible, terrible place, Rarity. Ponies die in there, Rarity. Everything wants to kill you, and it’s only because I’m very, very careful and can usually talk or fly my way out of if I have to that I haven’t become something’s lunch by now.”
“Well, that is quite, er, sobering.” Rarity pawed at the tile floor. “But, I mean, you’ll be leading, right? You know how to not have us, um, digested, right?”
Fluttershy nodded. “Oh, yes, I can get myself through, and, if you listen to me, I can get you though it too.” She glanced nervously out the window. “But I can only get him through if he listens to me, and I don’t think I’m quite, um, commanding enough for that.” She looked at the ground, retreating behind her mane. “I honestly just don’t think I can do it, Rarity, I just–”
Rarity had seen enough Fluttershy to know when a total come-apart was incoming, and she was determined to cut this one off before it started. “Hey!” She lifted a hoof, raising Fluttershy’s chin before pulling her into a hug. “You don’t worry about dealing with that pompous griffon out there. Leave that to me, I’ve met hundreds of puffed up featherbrains just like him, and I know how to make them listen.” She pulled back from the hug. “You just focus on being Fluttershy, OK?”
Fluttershy sniffed once, then smiled gratefully at her friend. “Yeah, Rarity. I think I can do that.”
Rarity smiled back. “Now, let’s see if we can figure out what a – Oh! I almost forgot!” Her horn lit, pulling two green velvet caps out of her saddlebags. “I figured I’d bring these. Just because we’re roughing it doesn’t mean we have to look anything less than fabulous, right!” She placed a cap on each of their heads. “Oh, and please flare out your wings, if you would.”
“Um, sure, I guess.” Fluttershy spread her wings wide.
Rarity examined Fluttershy's wings. She had always been impressed with her wingspan, which, frankly, put Rainbow Dash’s to shame; had she had the aptitude and temperament for flight training, Fluttershy would have made for a phenomenal flier. “Got any loose ones?”
Fluttershy nodded towards her left wing. “I think there’s a couple primaries along the – eep!”
Rarity held the two feathers she removed in the air between the two mares, then stuck them into the two caps. “There. We might not quite have the aptitude, but at lease we look the part, no?”
Fluttershy pulled the hat off with a wing, inspecting it before returning it to her head. She had to admit it was rather fetching .”Huh. I never thought about wearing part of me, on, me.” She smiled. “I like it. It looks, uh…”
“Rugged?” Rarity volunteered. “Pastoral?”
“Pastoral.” Fluttershy agreed. “Now, let me take care of a couple things before we go. I’ve got a litter of dormice I’ve got in the incubator I need to move out.” She reached into a bow on her window sill, pulling out a basket of squeaking rodents. “See if you can figure out what kind of sandwich he’s talking about in the meantime,” she said, although, as it was around a mouthful of wicker, was more like a succession of mumbles.
“Er, will…do?”
Satisfied, Fluttershy set off for the other side of the house, passing in front of the front door, which, as she passed, flew open, revealing a veritably steaming griffon.
“By the Sky-Father above! What could possibly be taking so long!” the ambassador screeched into the cabin. “It is simply not an ordeal to cut a damned sandwich! Just slice it and – Oh my! Are those d-dormice?”
Fluttershy nodded, unsure of exactly where this was going.
“My, what a treat! I prefer mine roasted, of course, but even raw they are such a delicacy! Truly, you are a mare of exacting taste!” He reached a clawed hand into the basket, pulling out a set of squirming fluffballs. “And so clean! You must have been preparing these for a while, no?” Then, as Fluttershy watched in growing horror, he threw the handful into his beak, giving it one sickening crunch before swallowing it in one monstrous gulp. “Delicious!”
Fluttershy only looked back in dismay, glancing between her now-empty basket and the griffon.
“Quite an excellent breakfast, if I do say so myself. Please do forgive my earlier comments, yes? I had no idea you were preparing something like that.” He belched. “Oh! Excuse me.” He looked at the wide-eyed mares before him. “Now, shall we depart?”