Why of all places was he back there? How did he not realise from all the peaks, valleys and mountains that he was in griffon territory, where the giant white tree of Griffonstone would have been visible for miles on a clear day? In his mind, Gallus was in a full-on panic mode, deep down he did not want to be where he was right then.
That griffon at the station, did she recognise him? She probably did, she would have told somegriffon who would have told another griffon, some would know he’s in the area. What’s worse is that he’d be walking in with ponies from the Academy and they’re gonna see the city and all the griffons know how angry they’ll be.
Maybe he could escape somehow, just make a move, flee? He’d just stretch out his wings, divd off and speed away so fast it was like a blur, he was sure no one would notice…
“Uh, Gallus, est-ce que ça va?” asked Fountain Blue, concerningly checking if Gallus was okay. Outside of Gallus’ heightened imagination, the griffon was motionless, with eyes stretched wide open and pupils shrunken to the size of fleas.
The Prench earth pony waved his hoof across Gallus’ face and prodded his feathered chest, which was enough to make Gallus blink and shake his head, breaking him back into reality. “Is something wrong?” Fountain Blue asked again, in Ponish this time, his concern from Gallus’ blackout didn’t leave him.
As Gallus looked around, there was a small circle surrounding him, consisting of Fountain Blue and the other ponies from the club. The number of eyes around him in a small vicinity meant his initial escape plan was no longer possible, not without arousing too much suspicion. He had no choice but to act as calm and casual as he could be.
“No, nothing’s wrong…” he responded, bearing a large grin that was so firm the words had to pass through the small gaps in his teeth. “Just didn’t realise we’d be here of all places…” Whilst he was honest about the second part, he couldn’t help but feel nervous sweat dripping down the side of his face.
Mistaking Gallus’ anxiety for surprise, Fountain Blue chuckled. “Well, why wouldn’t you? We’ve been in griffon territory since arriving at the station.” He clearly found Gallus’ realisation based on his assumptions and nativity. “Surely it all would have been familiar to you, did it not?”
Gallus tried to think hard once more for an answer. The rickety old station would be one reason, griffons knew about it but never used it themselves, considering flying to Equestria was faster, so it wouldn’t have raised a signal. Even for how familiar the mountains felt, he had little to no memory of going far outside of Griffonstone for most of his life, at least until he was taken to the School of Friendship that was.
He nervously rubbed the back of his head. “Well, it’s been a few months,” he winged as his excuse, partially true considering the number of months he had been spending in Canterlot, whilst hiding the fact his urge to avoid Griffonstone for the entire winter.
Fountain Blue smiled with relief, he bought the feigned excuse. “Well, now you’re here,” he happily stated as he pointed towards the golden arched entrance in front of them, “you should be happy to spend some time here, no?”
Gallus brought back his fake smile, “Yeah… happy to be here,” he responded with an exaggerated nod.
He wasn’t happy to be there, as he and the ponies strolled through the main street of Griffonstone. In the olden days, it prided itself on how grand and friendly it was, as it used to be the capital city of what was once the Royal Griffon Empire. But in the present, it fell into disarray when the last king passed away, and to Gallus it hadn’t changed a bit since he left.
It was a real dump, all the buildings and houses were consistently wooden, but were left with either degrading paint, stood askew, had broken windows, holes in the straw roofs, or some combination. Not to mention the decaying tree, dry and shabby nests, and the unkempt, rocky surfaces.
The surface all the ponies and griffon walked on, what was supposed to be a clean path, was covered with dirt, straw, branches, and they didn’t want to know what else. The most unsettling part though was its residents, griffons stared suspiciously at the group with their sharp eyes whether they were standing, perching, or flying over the town.
It was rare for anyone or two ponies to visit Griffonstone, so a large group of them was unheard of, the young climbers had nervous looks on their faces. Whipper tried his best to remain calm and confident, but he had his own reservations. “Okay ponies, just stay together, don’t stray from the path.” Whipper reminded the group of climbers, holding a nervous grin and used his hooves to move them closer together.
He briskly moved up to the front towards Fountain Blue, who was oddly smiling and unfazed by the drab environment and the daggers staring at them. “I don’t think we should be here” Whipper whispered angrily, “the looks on their faces aren’t giving us hope we’ll leave here in one piece.”
“We’re not bothering them; they’re not bothering us,” he rebuked in a whisper, whatever he had in mind, Whipper was clearly not aware of this part of the plan. “Besides, we should show our gratitude for allowing us to explore their mountains,” He openly declared in a jovial tone as he turned back to the rest of the group, although it didn’t give them ease of mind.
It didn’t help that Gallus wasn’t showing confidence for other reasons, as he kept his head low and stayed in the middle between two earth ponies. He was preoccupied with avoiding any recognition in vain, still worrying over the thought that every griffon knew he’d be there.
Suddenly, Fountain Blue stopped. His nose caught the sense of a strong aroma, compelling him to sniff in the air. “You smell that? Something fresh!” he elated. He followed the aroma, leading the entire group away from the main street to a stone oven and a rustic wooden food cart containing baked goods.
Fountain Blue’s face lit up; he recognised the baked goods before. “Ah, excusez-moi mademoiselle!” he bellowed to a griffon with the white head of eagle. “Are these the famous griffon scones I have heard about?”
The griffon folded her arms, “Well, they’re my griffon scones to sell, at least,” she acknowledged with a cynical glower of her amber eyes.
Fountain Blue’s face lit up; he found his treat for the team. “Ah parfait, then I would like to buy some scones” he pulled out a bag filled with bits, the coins jingled inside, “one for each of us.”
The griffon was quick to grab the bag to be sure, she looked inside and sure enough, it was full of bits. When she scanned the group and worked out the price, she smirked, confident she was getting a good deal. “You got it,” she eagerly accepted, “If you want a fresh batch, you’ll have to wait, though.”
Fountain Blue turned around to give a sly grin to Whipper and the rest of the group, smug that he got what he wanted. “Take your time,” he reassured the griffon, as he began to apply his Prench charm. “After seeing all the greatest sights griffons have to offer, we could do with resting our hooves,” he remarked, hoping to smoothen their deal.
The griffon scoffed at the attempt, “Trust me, this place isn’t a tourist site for ponies.” She began to mix ingredients to start a new batch of scones for her customers.
“Au contraire!” Fountain Blue relented, “We’re from the Equestria’s Royal Guard Academy Mountaineering and Rockwall Club, us ponies have had the honour of travelling across your mountains since yesterday. Well, ponies and our resident griffon.” He gestured to the rest of the climbing group with an open hoof.
The ponies of the group gave calm and friendly smiles, giving the politest expressions they could given the situations they were in. Gallus meanwhile felt his heart stop, although not by name, there was no way he couldn’t have been called out by Fountain Blue. He felt himself lower his head further to hide behind the other ponies in vain to avoid being recognised.
As far as Griffonstone goes, there’s only one griffon he knew personally who worked baking and selling griffon confectionery…
“Hey Gallus, it’s been a while,” the griffon jovially called out, smiling with an exaggerated wave as she caught Gallus, causing his heart to stop once more. Fountain Blue smirked as he cheekily discovered an opportunity to include Gallus further. Against his will, Gallus was pulled out of the crowd by his tail.
“Oh, so you two know each other?” With his arms wrapped around Gallus’ entire body, Fountain Blue had his griffon trapped in full view of his newest griffon acquaintance, much to Gallus’ chagrin.
The blue griffon, having no means of a stealthy escape, accepted defeat as he recognised the older griffon immediately. “Hey, Gilda…” Gallus spoke quietly, his face continued to point downward while he looked up, nervously smiling to feign a friendly appearance at an uncomfortable reunion.
Gilda looked towards Gallus; her amber eyes narrowed as she held her wide smile. “Yeah, you can say that,” she answered, regarding Fountain Blue’s question.
“Well then, how about the ponies and I will wait over there, while you and Gallus stay here and catch up while the scones are being prepared.” Fountain Blue offered, Gallus pleaded with large round eyes for Gilda to say no.
“Sure, I’ll call you over when they’re done.” her answer was uncharacteristically enthusiastic, enjoying the reluctance that Gallus was feeling.
Without having a chance to say a word, Gallus was left alone with Gilda, Fountain Blue pushing them together while he and the rest of the ponies moved away to chat amongst themselves. Whilst those ponies snickered and glanced slyly at the two as if the two griffons were related somehow, once all eyes were off the two, their appearances changed almost to an instant.
“So, how have things been with the pony army?” teased Gilda, dropping her smile in an instant as she continued to mix her ingredients together into a soft dough.
“Things have been going well with the E.U.P. Royal Guard Academy,” chided Gallus, returning a sharp glare, “thanks for asking.”
“Shame we never saw you during the Blue Moon Festival, a couple of us griffons hoped you’d show up.”
The Blue Moon Festival, the griffon’s winter holiday, the one time of year when griffons are nice to each other, as nice as they could be. It was the day families in the griffon territories spend quality time together, give gifts and have food. It was also the day before the camping trip began, the day Gallus spent the day catching up with Ocellus in Ponyville.
“I was with friends.”
Gilda rolled her eyes. “Of course you were…”
“I was!” quickly snapped back Gallus, insisting his excuse was the truth. “I was in Ponyville, seeing my friends from the School of Friendship.”
“Yeah, I believe you, it’s just…” Gilda paused, she appeared agitated over the ordeal, but she looked back to see the ponies not too far behind. She took a deep breath before she continued.
“Look, no griffon is as happy as I am that you have your friends and get out of Griffonstone” she stated, although she could see Gallus raise an eyebrow in suspicion of the accuracy of that claim. She couldn’t help but remember that there was one other griffon who could outdo her on that specific claim. “Fine, no griffon except Gabby, that still counts.
However, are you telling me that you couldn’t come here during the most important holiday? If you did, you would have saved on meeting up with your pony army climbing buddies.”
Gallus eyebrows levelled to give a jaded stare, he had reasons why he never liked the holiday, most of it to do with the fact he didn’t have a family to share it with, or at least, certain griffons weren’t nice enough to include him. “Yeah, staying outside in the snow while other griffons have fancy dinners and presents indoors, would have been worth it,” he remarked sarcastically.
She knew the remark was partially directed towards her, accusingly so. She would only think so because there were certain griffons they both knew of, yet only she would spend time with. She pinched her beak, breathed in hard with frustration. “Do you know why the Blue Moon Festival is important to griffons?” she asked harshly. “It’s the day where…”
“…griffons come together to be kind and helpful to one another, no matter how young or old, no matter how rich or poor. It has been celebrated ever since the reign of King Grover to remind us of how proud we are to be united.” Gallus cut her off, his eyes pointed upwards and swung back and forth as he sardonically quoted scripture. “I’ve read up on Griffon history, you know.”
Although he was correct, Gilda still fumed at being cut off, she proceeded to dump the fresh dough onto the wooden cart to prepare the next phase of the scones. “Right, so then you’d know that ever since you were little, other griffons like Gabby, Greta, and I, would make sure you had food and shelter for the winter.” She made a point of kneading into the dough at each slight pause, softening it more and pressing out any sense of air remaining in it.
“Should we have invited you to sit at a table? Maybe, but that doesn’t mean we never looked out for you.”
For the first time in his life, he heard a perspective of his past miserable experiences with the holidays that he had never heard before. It was true that those experiences of the Blue Moon Festival often had him out in the snow, looking through the warming glow of windows as griffons spent time together, but it didn’t mean he went hungry, or freezing, or covered in snow as he slept, he wouldn’t have lived long otherwise.
Yet if given the choice between his time in Equestria and what experience he would have had in Griffonstone, especially given his anxiety over what griffons think of him, the answer felt obvious.
“Yeah well, since I’ve been on winter break, I’ve had meals with my friends, been helpful to a few of them, all the while I had a roof over my head.” He retorted his points, his arms now folded as he leant forward to be smug. “So, in a way, I celebrated the Blue Moon Festival just fine on my own.”
“Just not in Griffonstone.” Gilda uttered under her breath, as she cut out the dough into round pieces.
“And yet, it’s been great for the last four years without any complaint from you, Gabby, or any other griffon.” As he finished, Gallus noticed Gilda put the tray of scones into the oven, but she never turned around to rebuke him. She instead stood motionless, looking down at the straw-covered ground beneath her. In Gallus’ good conscience, he could sense something more sincere about the subject was bothering her. He remembered that she provided griffon scones as part of Gabby’s care package months earlier, a part of her had to care a bit more than usual for her to do that.
“Do you really think that, somehow, I would have been better going up here instead?” he calmly asked her.
However, she remained motionless with her head faced downwards. “It would have made things better to have you around…” she confessed; her voice became gravelly.
“Better for you, Gabby, and Greta?”
“Not just us…”
“Oh, come on,” Gallus rolled his eyes, “who else would care if I was here during the Blue Moon Festival?”
“Grandpa Gruff…” Gallus was stopped in his train of thought the moment Gilda uttered that name, perplexed with disbelief. Gilda finally turned back around and rested her back on the warm stone walls of the oven to describe what led to her conclusion.
“That night of the festival, all four of us had dinner together at his house, and it went how it had been usually. The others complained about the food I made, Gabby gave us each these weird tacky trinkets, and most of us tried not to yell at each other.”
“The only difference was that Grandpa Gruff just sat around in silence, I mean him not ranting and raving was great but, he never said a word the entire time we were at his home. That was except when I was cleaning up the dishes, he was sitting slumped by his desk in the study staring at this old, tattered mouse toy and he said, ‘He should be here’.”
A tattered mouse toy, Gallus’ eyes widened, he remembered such a toy from his past. Yet it had been several years since he had seen it, he wasn’t sure if it was still around. Gilda caught Gallus’ moment of recognition and gave a half-smile, nervously rubbing the back of her head.
“I then asked him who should be here, and he just snapped, shoved the toy into a drawer and forced the three of us out. Felt like he misses you.”
The story was a surprise to Gallus, and some details like the mouse toy while coincidental made it plausible but like with other moments where Grandpa Gruff’s name was mentioned, he could feel a sense of anger emanating from the back of his mind. “I don’t believe that.” He uttered in a cold tone, his head turning side to side almost autonomously.
“Well, I was there, and you weren’t.” Gilda chided, she folded her arms and huffed at the hint of accusation of lying. “If you want, you can go see him yourself, you know where his house is.”
She pointed behind Gallus, beyond where the ponies were still gathered and talking amongst each other. Grandpa Gruff’s house stood out from the others, it was one of the few two-story houses in Griffonstone, and one with wooden doors for the window on the second floor.
Even with the slight luxury, Gallus could recognise one of the doors of the window had a broken hinge, and the open window revealed thick cobwebs inside, showing how poorly kept it was since Gallus left for the School of Friendship years earlier.
Being reminded of how close Gallus was to Grandpa Gruff’s home had an opposite effect to what Gilda would have wanted. Gallus clenched his claws into fists and tightened his folded arms as he turned back to Gilda and glowered.
“He knows where to find me if he cares that much about me.”
Sensing that Gallus wouldn’t have budged if she tried, Gilda let out a disappointed sigh. “You know, you’ve changed ever since you went to the School of Friendship.” She remarked, Gallus darted a glare in her direction, which compelled Gilda to move her claws in front of her. “Not that I’m saying that’s bad, there’s a lot of good change. But I remember before you left, both of you would put up with each other way more than I could, so what changed? What did he do?”
Still fuming internally, Gallus didn’t answer. “Gilda, am I a griffon to you?” he instead asked.
Gilda raised an eyebrow and tilted her head, the answer seemed blatantly obvious. “Um, I’m confident that my eyesight is still great, and can see that I’ve been talking to a griffon for several minutes.”
He then followed up with another question, “So then, despite spending a lot of time in Equestria, and spent the holidays there instead of here, I’m still a griffon to you, right?”
Gilda then looked up to think, she was unsure why Gallus was linking his species and physical appearance to the places he was residing, the two seemed irrelevant. But as she gave it some time, Gallus hasn’t magically become a different species because of being in Equestria for such a long time.
“I… guess that’s right.”
“Then you have nothing to worry about…” he reassured Gilda, although she wasn’t sure why. “It was good seeing you, Gilda.”
Before Gilda could ask any further what he meant, Gallus turned around and flew the short distance towards the ponies of the climbing club with an awkward but friendly smile on his face.
“Hey guys, sorry but I’m gonna head off early,” he shamefully admitted in an upbeat tone. The ponies were confused and surprised that Gallus was suddenly leaving so soon. “Yeah, I promised to see a friend just before winter break finishes, so it would be great if I made an early start,” he excused himself.
The two leaders of the camping trip found this unusual, considering there was already a planned departure. “But won’t you need a ticket for the train back?” queried Whipper.
“Actually, us griffons tend to fly over the ocean and catch a train in Baltimare,” Gallus pointed out, pointing towards the vast body of water west of the city, Equestria could barely be seen over the horizon of the ocean. “It’s much quicker than using the train station up north.” Whipper felt sheepish when he heard it, time could have been saved getting a ferry from Baltimare than the long train around Equestria.
Regardless, the two leaders relented. Fountain Blue gave Gallus some bits to spend on the train journey home, and after some goodbyes, Gallus flew west. Still standing by the oven, Gilda watched as Gallus flew further and further away from Griffonstone, looking doleful as she wished she had also told the young griffon how else he had changed ever since he first left Griffonstone years earlier.
It was several years ago, Gilda had bought a variety of new ingredients from Equestria, using some time to experiment in the hope of finding new flavours to sell. It felt like it might be worth it after Pinkie Pie, an annoyingly bouncy and upbeat earth pony, provided her baking powder which heavily improved the taste and quality of her scones.
Keeping herself busy with mixing ingredients in small batches to create samples added a small increase in difficulty with her baking tasks, added by the distant sound of a griffon she recognised. Gilbert, a loathsome brat of a griffon that had charred feathers and coat. Although she couldn’t see him or make out what he was saying from how far away he was, she could tell he was laughing and jeering at someone. Most likely the jerk was picking on a griffon a few years younger than him like he always did.
She didn’t like him, or what he was doing, but she kept on with her mixing. To her, walking in would only stop it temporarily, wasting her time when he gets back into picking on another young griffon. That was until the sounds of him jeering or speaking abruptly stopped, replaced with what sounded like thuds, grunts, and the rustling of straw. Then he heard Gilbert again, except he was much louder and clearer than before.
“Ow! Get off of- !”
His speech was cut off by another thud, more rustling, grunts, and thuds followed. Assuming it was the sound of some scuffle, Gilda decided to investigate. She followed the sound around one of the houses and ended up on a side street, and discovered the source was more violent than a scuffle.
Gilbert was during a fight with none other than Gallus, a blue feathered griffon who was indeed younger than his opponent, but was fierce and aggressive, as Gilda’s first glimpse of the fight was Gallus pinned on top and punching down onto Gilbert’s face with his left claw in a closed fist, his face scrunched up in furious anger.
The older would manage to roll over and get on top to return a blow or two but would end up back to being pinned to face some harsh blows to his face. Gilda has seen griffons argue, curse at each other, and has seen a few fights in her time, but none this angry, and especially none that was leading to noticeable bruises across the face from young teenaged griffons.
She had to stop it, by force if necessary. “HEY!” she yelled out to get their attention, to no effect as Gilbert managed to get himself on top of Gallus once more. She then leapt forward, pushing Gilbert off Gallus, and firmly stood between the two griffons.
With her arms stretched outwards to hold the griffons back, the fighting had more than certainly stopped. The two griffons were still seething, Gallus had a fixed angered face with red eyes staring daggers at Gilbert, and Gilbert was breathing through his gritting teeth. “Get out of here, you dweeb!” she turned and ordered Gilbert, instinctively targeting him as his bullish behaviour likely instigated the fight.
Although his focus did not change, the battered and bruised Gilbert relented. “Fine. I’ll get better knowing I won’t have to see him anymore when he’s gone for good.” The words triggered Gallus, as he quickly lunged forward and lashed out with open and sharp claws. Luckily for Gilbert, he wasn’t harmed by the attack thanks to Gilda acting as a barricade, but the reaction was still sudden and close enough that he immediately backed off and flew away in a panic.
As Gilbert disappeared, Gallus stood still, held back by Gilda, but gradually the red in Gallus’ eyes faded and his breathing slowed to a normal rhythm. He calmed himself enough to push himself off and walk off in a sulk in the opposite direction.
Despite being relieved the fight she witnessed was over, she wasn’t finished. “Oh no you don’t, you gonna tell me what that fight was about?” she held onto Gallus’ tail to stop him from walking any further, but instead of answering, Gallus continued to walk in place, dragging his feet along the floor.
“You know full well it’s better to explain it to a griffon like me than it is to answer to Grandpa Gruff.”
Gallus stopped trying to walk, he stood still with his head pointed down to the ground, and finally spoke.
“Grandpa Gruff won’t care, he’s sending me away…”
Gilda was stunned, and a little bit angry. She had heard some harsh words from other older griffons, including her own parents, about how Grandpa Gruff treated Gallus as his errand griffon. There was some hope that one day, Grandpa Gruff would step up somehow, but not just to send Gallus far away from home. “Okay, come with me, I need to hear this.” She let go of his tail and pulled him by the shoulder towards her food cart.
She then made Gallus sit by it while she picked out one of the already baked Griffonscones and offers it to Gallus. “Here, take it.” Gallus was confused by the gesture, but his talons began to move towards the scone, hesitating, before eventually grabbing it and taking a bite. “Now tell me what Grandpa Gruff is doing.”
Gallus chews into the scone as quick as he could, before giving a big gulp to swallow it down. “He said there is a school in Equestria and is gonna send me there,” he described, “said it will do me some good.”
Gilda could feel a relaxation in her chest as her first assumption kicks in,. “Oh, thank Grover’s ghost” she exclaims in relief, her claws resting on her face. “Trust me, pegasus ponies in Cloudsdale accept griffons into flight schools all the time, they’re like summer camps. You’ll be back in at least two weeks, a month tops” she casually reassures him.
“It’s for a year…” he hit back, and once more Gilda’s chest tightened again with worry. “He said it’s a school in Ponyville about teaching friendship, it’s run by somepony named Princess Twilight Sparkle, and her friends.” Gilda’s chest then relaxes again, albeit partially. It was no griffon boarding school in another part of the griffon territories, but some pony friendship school for a year seemed like much. “Once he drops me off, it’ll be a year before I come back unless the griffons here don’t want me back.”
“What? No! We TOTALLY want you back here, loads of griffons like you…” Gilda set off in a panic, nervously grinning and waving her arms across in exaggerated movements. However, her comforting and sympathetic nature was incredibly poor, and Gallus continued to huddle himself up by the food cart.
Gilda quickly darted her head around, desperately hoping Gabby would be nearby, she was way better at this weird helping others out and being friendly, she’d know what to do. However, with no Gabby around, Gilda sat down beside Gallus. All she could think of was an old moment from her own past that sounded a little like what Gallus was going through.
“Look, when I was little, my parents told me I was going to a flight camp in Cloudsdale, said it would do me some good. I really didn’t want to go, and at first, I didn’t like being the only griffon there.” Gilda then chuckled. “Two weeks I was meant to be there, but eventually I ended up staying a month because I loved it so much.”
“You’re lucky your parents know what’s best for you…” Gallus remarked with a hint of envy.
“Yeah, well, I found out years later my parents could never afford to send me to flight camp, Grandpa Gruff paid for the whole thing.” That admission finally caused Gallus to raise his head, bemused that Grandpa Gruff of all griffons would do something so generous. Gilda smiled in recognition of how weird the fact was.
“That cranky old griffon is a lot of things, but he wouldn’t be sending you off somewhere just to get rid of you. Besides, ponies aren’t so bad, lots of them are pretty cool, there’s one I met at flight camp that I’m still friends with to this day.” Her gradually effective reassurance was cut off by a realisation that there was a connection staring her in the face.”
“In fact, you said this school was run by Princess Twilight Sparkle and her friends, right?” she checked, and Gallus confirmed with a small nod. “Then that means…” her eyes then widened, and then she quickly held her beak shut with her claws as snickering and giggling began to take over.
“Oh feathers, that’s just perfect!” she exclaimed to herself as she wipes a stray tear from her purple shadowed eyes, and then stood up to move in front of Gallus and look at him face-to-face.
“Okay, so, when you get to this school, look for Rainbow Dash. Blue pegasus with a rainbow mane and tail, you can’t miss her. She might seem like an egghead at first, but she’s cool. After you meet her, just play along, talk to some ponies, and you never know, you might like this gig enough that you’ll be begging to stay.”
Gallus looked up at her with a raised eyebrow as she towered over with an upbeat grin, uncertain and weirded out, but he thanked her for the scone and made his way off. He had no idea how right she would be, and in retrospect, neither did she for better or for worse.