//------------------------------// // Unsettled // Story: The Ties That Bind // by Scyphi //------------------------------// There could’ve been further information to uncover in that office. But by that point, Gallus was so overwhelmed by the massive reveals already uncovered that he wasn’t sure he could take more. So upon suddenly remembering he’d wanted to try and catch them some fish for dinner, he used that as an excuse to get away. He wasn’t sure Spike bought it, but the young dragon didn’t try to stop him, mumbling how it was getting late enough that they were probably due for the break anyway. Gallus wondered if he was feeling too overwhelmed as well. In any case, Gallus used the chance to take to the air, fleeing the crash site and the secrets it held. His mind was whirling so much from the implications that for the first few minutes he wasn’t paying attention to where he was flying, having to double back for the river in question twice because he kept flying past it. Eventually he landed at the river to attempt some griffon-style fishing (by effectively snatching the fish straight out of the water) as the sun finally sank into the horizon, closing that very long, tumultuous, and exhausting day. By that point it was actually not so great a time to try and do any fishing, but Gallus really more wanted the distraction so to try and take his mind off what’d been uncovered. He was only somewhat successful, as evidenced by the fact he frequently flubbed several chances to snag some surprisingly good catches. But these failures just gave him excuses to vent. He wasn’t sure what exactly, since his emotions were so tied up into knots that they were indiscernible from one another, but it was a chance to vent it nonetheless and that was what was important. Eventually though he felt guilty for running from the problem and effectively leaving Spike on his own at the airship, so he finally forced himself to focus long enough to snag two modestly sized fish and start back for the crash site once dusk had fully fallen. There he found Spike had likewise exited the crashed airship and started a campfire a short distance away in a makeshift fire pit he must’ve dug himself. Gallus also instantly noticed the dragon had the photo album and was flipping through it while it rested in his lap. Sat next to him was Spike’s bag, the same he’d had when they left Ponyville, and Gallus could see Spike had slipped the bloodline stone into it, keeping it close. Not wanting to face the reality of either of those items at the moment though, Gallus contented himself by exchanging brief greetings before sitting himself on the opposite side of the fire and focused on cleaning his catches. The most he commented on after that was to briefly acknowledge how the warm flames felt nice in the cooling night, which Spike hummed a simple agreement with. Finally, once the fish were prepped to his liking, Gallus found two sticks to serve as spits and skewered each fish apiece. He then set them up to spit-roast over the fire, rotating them every now and then to ensure they cooked evenly. An awkward silence fell as Gallus attempted to not let his attention wander back to the photo album Spike was idly flipping through. But eventually Spike was the one to break the silence. “This all unsettles you…doesn’t it?” he asked gently, in a sympathetic but knowing tone. Gallus sighed, actually feeling some of the tension release now he’d been called out on it. “…yeah,” he admitted. He felt like he probably should say more, but couldn’t think of what. Spike glanced down at the photo album for a moment. “If it helps,” he began, “it looks like they were good and caring creatures.” Gallus involuntarily winced. “Actually, it really doesn’t help,” he replied. He averted his gaze. “If anything…knowing that makes it worse.” He felt Spike watching him for a long moment. His eyes finally went back to Spike when he heard him thump the album closed and to slip it into his bag with the bloodline stone. “I get it,” he assured the griffon calmly. “I’m…kinda blown away by it all too.” He breathed a heavy sigh. “And I can get why you don’t want to treat it as confirmed just yet, because…” he spread his arms wide symbolically. “…because I guess we haven’t definitively proved this is what we think. Just that we’ve found a theory that fits the facts. It could still be untrue, or there could still be some element to all of this we don’t know yet.” He lowered his arms. “I’m sure either way that, once we’re back home, Twilight will insist on running her own tests so to verify what’s actually going on here.” “I’m sure,” Gallus agreed quietly, gazing into the flames of the fire as they sizzled at the cooking fish. He reached to gently rotate them both. “Either way…I’m sorry for trying to hide from it rather than face it.” “Don’t be,” Spike assured, and gave him a small smile. “Like I said, I get it. Even…even if we are wrong about all this,” he motioned to their evidence sitting in his bag, “it’s still a hay of a lot to take in. And we’ve still had a pretty rough day, so to top it off with all of this…” “It’s just…” Gallus groaned, frustrated. “…when I sent in that test kit…this isn’t at all where I expected it’d lead me.” Spike frowned, looking at him thoughtfully. “Then…what were you expecting?” “I don’t know…I guess…I guess it’d just confirm what I had already figured was the truth. That my parents were heartless nobodies who…who just hadn’t cared about what happened to me.” Gallus’s gaze turned distant. “I’m really wishing right now that actually was the case.” Spike’s gaze saddened. “I don’t understand,” he admitted. “Remember what we’d talked about earlier today?” Gallus replied, looking him in the eye. “About how we weren’t sure if the reality would be easier to take than the fantasy we used to fill in the blanks ourselves?” Spike frowned and motioned again to the contents of his bag. “Wouldn’t this be better than that, though?” “No.” Gallus jabbed a claw at the bag, glaring at it suddenly. “Because that has shown me just how dead wrong I was about it all. Spike, thinking my parents didn’t care about me made it easier for me to not care about them. But that shows that they did care…probably a lot. And it’s shown me…” he voice suddenly cracked, “…just what I might’ve lost.” He hung his head, avoiding Spike’s gaze again. “And I wasn’t ready for that.” Spike was quiet for a long moment, studying the ashamed griffon. “Gallus,” he finally began gently, “If this is true, then it may have shown you the family you lost…but it may have also shown you the family you’ve rediscovered.” Gallus glanced back at him, seeing the little dragon giving him a warm smile. What he was implying with that comment wasn’t lost on Gallus, of course, but he wasn’t sure how to acknowledge it—if he should acknowledge it. A part of him didn’t want to get his hopes up just yet. Another part of him wanted to throw caution to the wind and grab him in a bear hug and never let go of the little dragon…the creature who just may—somehow, impossibly—be his long lost little brother. So Gallus broached another question the both of them had, up to this point, been avoiding. “So what happens if what’s in that album does prove to be true?” Spike hesitated. “I don’t know,” he admitted, and his expression suggested the prospect daunted him. “But…whatever does happen…I hope we’ll be able to figure it out together.” To that, Gallus snorted, grinning. “Well, we’ve already done that getting this far,” he quipped. “So might as well keep it going.” Spike returned the grin. It seemed that was answer enough for him. They fell silent again for the next few minutes, leaving each other to their respective thoughts while the fish finished cooking. It wasn’t too long though before they were a nice golden brown on both sides and Gallus decreed them cooked enough. Suddenly feeling hungry, he handed one over for Spike before taking one for himself and ravenously digging in. Once the first few bites had settled into his empty stomach though, his attention returned to Spike and noticed he was still uncertainly holding his fish before him, uneaten. It only took a couple moments of thought to reason out the likely explanation. “Let me guess,” Gallus said with a smirk, “You’ve never eaten a fish before.” Spike winced, embarrassed. “…is it that obvious?” he replied awkwardly. “You know, I’ve been around Smolder long enough to know a dragon eating a fish is really no big deal. If it weren’t for the whole gem eating thing, you guys would probably veer more carnivore than not.” “I know.” Spike sighed, looking the fish over. “It’s just…well…” “…you were raised by grass-munching ponies that don’t really go for the meaty foods.” “I mean, I have eaten meat before,” Spike assured, as if trying to prove himself. “I’ve just…not really been in the habit.” He paused then added, “Because I don’t really come across the meat-based foods that often, see.” “Sure,” Gallus replied, but knew what Spike didn’t want to say too—the kid hadn’t ever gone hunting for the meat. Spike seemed to suspect he’d recognized that too and apparently felt the need to defend himself. “Well, you try getting your claws on this stuff when Fluttershy is one of the ponies you regularly associate with,” he challenged. “Dude, who do you think hooks up some of us preds at the school?” Spike’s eyebrows went up. “Wait, really?” he asked, surprised. “I mean, I knew the school had always tried to accommodate the carnivore diets from the start, but…Fluttershy? Really?” “Hey, the gal may be the gentlest animal-loving creature on the planet, but she still knows how food chains work and all that.” Gallus chewed on his fish some more while giving Spike a moment to process that. He then nodded his head at the dragon’s still-untouched meal. “You know I can guarantee you’ll like it best while it’s still hot.” Spike turned his attention back to his fish, holding it in front of him. He then took a deep breath and, reaching out carefully with his mouth like he was afraid the fish would suddenly snap back at him, took a cautious bite out of it. Gallus watched, bemused, as he chewed thoughtfully, swallowed, then hummed in apparent approval and leaned in to take another, less restrained, bite. “See, not so bad, is it?” Gallus said with a smirk. Spike tried to make an indifferent shrug. “It’s…okay, I guess,” he admitted, but now that the ice had been broken, he wasn’t really holding back anymore while eating more and more of the roasted fish. They continued to eat mostly in silence after that, save for a couple more passing comments about their meal. During that time, neither of them noticed any changes about their surroundings until they’d mostly finished and Gallus suddenly perked up. “Shh, you hear that?” he interjected, motioning for Spike to be quiet. Spike lowered what little remained of his fish and perked his ear fronds so to listen as well. The gradual changes in his expression as he, too, picked up on that distant drone gradually growing louder and clearer showed he understood the significance as well. “That sounds like an engine,” he guessed aloud. “An airship engine,” Gallus added with a nod, hope starting to rise within him. The implications clear, they both got to their feet and started scanning the skies in the direction the sound seemed to be coming from. This was made somewhat more difficult by the fact the already dark skies were made even darker by it still being overcast, hiding the light of the stars. The moon wasn’t readily visible so to contribute its own light either. Nevertheless, Gallus was the one who eventually spied it. “There,” he said, pointing with a talon at the shape slowly moving in their general direction. Once spotted, it was easy to tell it was indeed an airship, although still too far away to make out any more details than that in this lighting. He hoped that would all change as it drew nearer, which seemed likely once he plotted out in his head its apparent course. “They’re definitely heading our way.” “They should be able to see our campfire from there already,” Spike reasoned, squinting his eyes at the approaching craft. “That should be enough to make them think something’s up and want to investigate, right?” “Might as well not take any chances though,” Gallus said and turned to Spike. “Where’s that flare gun we found earlier?” Spike pointed at their own wrecked airship. “I left it in the control room with the other supplies we gathered. I figured it’d be more sheltered from the elements there.” “Then let’s go fetch it,” Gallus said, extending his wings and taking flight with Spike quickly following. Landing at a quick trot in the dark compartment, he went right for where Spike had left the bag of supplies next to the helm and swiftly rooted through it for the flare gun. Wrapping his talons on its grip, he whipped it out and ran back to the broken forward window they’d entered through, Spike keeping beside him so to watch. There, he aimed the gun upwards before firing. There was a loud pop as the brilliant red glow of the flare shot nearly straight up into the sky like a burning, sparkling, meteor for several feet before slowing as it reached its peak and gradually started sinking back to the ground somewhere ahead of the crash site altogether. It was easily the brightest thing for miles around and impossible to miss. Nevertheless, Gallus decided to pop open the gun so to load their remaining charge as a precaution. In the meantime, the approaching airship drew ever closer, now close enough that other details about it started becoming clear. “Not an especially big airship, is it?” Spike observed, noting its size and shape. “It can’t be any bigger than Gene Type’s is…or was.” Gallus squinted at it for a second as he finished reloading the flare gun. “You know, I’m thinking it might be a griffon patrol ship,” he remarked. “They go around the borders looking for any troublemakers or, in our case, rendering assistance where needed.” “Well, that’s a plus,” Spike said, allowing himself a small grin. “Still, it can’t be too roomy on it.” “Especially as they’re typically crewed with as many foot soldiers as can be squeezed aboard,” Gallus added. “But I’ve never been aboard one myself, so what would I know? Maybe there’s more room than it looks.” Further speculation nevertheless stalled out after that though as by then the aircraft had closed in enough it could’ve only come to investigate the crash site. Soon thereafter it switched on a blindingly bright spotlight mounted on its underside and began using it to start sweeping over the area. It lingered once it fell upon them, making it clear they’d been noticed. Both Gallus and Spike cheerfully started waving back at the closing patrol ship so to make themselves even more noticeable, hopes soaring that they were about to be rescued at last. Until Gallus saw a cannon drop into place further back on the patrol ship’s underbelly and start to take aim. The cannon fired producing a yellowish muzzle flash the same time Gallus spun around and dove for Spike standing next to him. He could hear the loud whistle of the fired shell careening towards them as he protectively pinned the dragon to the deck. It hit the aft section of the downed airship the second immediately following and exploded, spending a burst of hot air and flames careening through the control room doorway. Gallus felt the craft tip further to one side as debris rained down on them, the force of the impact having given it a hard shove. He could also hear the hull of the craft creak, groan, and crumple, and knew it wouldn’t withstand much more of this. The orange glow of flames suggested it had caught aflame anyway, so he knew they needed to flee. “They’re shooting at us!” Spike yelled in a panic as Gallus jumped up and pulled the dragon upright again. “Why are they shooting at us?!” Gallus didn’t reply as he instead whipped out the flare gun and fired again, this time directly at the attacking patrol ship. The slow-moving flare would never come close enough to hit it, but he hoped its light would blind their attackers long enough to give them a head start. “Run!” he commanded Spike, pushing him for the forward window and opening his wings to take flight. They’d barely gotten clear of the airship when the patrol ship fired again, their second shot hitting the forward section and dealing similar damage as it had to the aft. The blast’s shockwave slammed into the two fleeing creatures and easily knocked them out of the air. Gallus felt the flare gun tumble out of his claws upon hitting the ground, vanishing from view, but knowing it was out of rounds anyway he didn’t waste time trying to find it. He instead focused on recovering Spike, who was already picking himself up and starting to keep pace with him as they dashed past their forgotten campfire. Spike quickly snagged his bag with the photo album and bloodline stone inside as he ran past. A split second later, the patrol ship, having quickly reoriented itself, fired for a third time directly at the fleeing creatures. This shot hit the ground just a matter of feet behind them, the blast bowling them over and exploding their campfire, effectively extinguishing it—now the only light they had was coming from the burning remains of their airship behind them and the spotlight from their attackers, neither of which was reassuring. But the third impact had also kicked up a large cloud of dust and dirt that swiftly engulfed them, obscuring them from immediate view and telling Gallus they still had a chance. “Get to the trees!” he urged Spike as they got up and ran again for the tree line. It had always only been a matter of just a scant few feet from their crashed airship, but at the moment it seemed like it could’ve been miles away. Nevertheless, they safely got into the trees before the patrol ship could fire again, and once there could count on the canopy of branches to help give them cover. Still, Gallus realized they couldn’t begin to expect that to be enough as surely the patrol ship would still find a way to give chase and decided they needed their attackers to lose their trail entirely. So, scooping up Spike in his arms, he took to the air again, dodging around trees at high speed—a dangerous prospect given the dim lighting and the fire burning behind him further messing with his night vision—until he arrived at a large natural boulder dozens of feet away from the crash site and landed atop of it, ducking low before looking back in the direction they’d come. The spotlight of the attacking patrol ship could be seen through the forest canopy, sweeping across the area in search of them, but it only had a rough idea of where they’d gone. Not enough to try firing at them again certainly, so they were at least safe from that for the moment. However the crash site they’d just left was fully aglow with the crashed airship slowly burning to the ground along with everything in it. Gallus briefly wondered what other secrets still inside they might be losing in the process, but was swiftly distracted from that when he saw creatures moving in the firelight, sweeping out into the forest in all directions from the crash site. “Ground troops,” Gallus whispered under his breath, figuring the patrol ship must’ve dropped them off so to continue the chase on foot. “Of course they aren’t going to give up that easily,” Spike grumbled quietly from beside him, but Gallus could feel him trembling in fear—he couldn’t blame him as he was pretty sure his own body was doing the same. “What are we going to do?” “I’m thinking,” Gallus hissed back and motioned for him to be quiet. It was clear staying where they were wouldn’t be enough as they were still too visible atop of the boulder, even if it was tall enough to take them out of immediate view. But he also doubted they could really outrun their pursuers at this point, especially as they clearly had the advantage of numbers. He thusly concluded that their best option was to keep moving and hope to spy a better hiding spot, so he grabbed Spike in his arms again and resumed flying between the trees so to minimalize any trails they left behind. They were moving fast enough to stay just ahead of their pursuers yet also dark enough to make it very difficult to discern useful details about their surroundings. But finally Gallus spied what he hoped would be their salvation: a tree with one side of its interweaving roots exposed enough to leave a hollow space underneath. He guessed it should be just big enough for them to hide in, but also concealed enough that he hoped it’d be easily overlooked by their pursuers in the dark lighting. It wasn’t like they had any alternatives though, so he immediately looped back around and all but dive-bombed for it, quickly squeezing himself under. Spike thankfully didn’t need to be told what the plan was and silently followed his lead without any objection, even though neither of them was left any room to spare in this hiding space. It was small enough that normally it would trigger Gallus’s claustrophobia, but the fear of their pursuers overruled and for once his claustrophobia never took hold. Instead, he protectively held Spike close to him, keeping one paw over the dragon’s mouth as a precaution while trying his hardest to keep his own beak clamped shut. He barely even dared to breathe for fear of being overheard. A tense moment passed as they anxiously peered through the gaps in the roots for their pursuers. The patrol ship’s spotlight swept over an area nearby, and the rumble of its engines made it clear it was still close. Then they stiffened as they heard the steps of creatures moving through the foliage nearby. Gallus could make out two griffons talking between themselves as they drew closer. “C’mon, they must’ve gone in this direction. What few tracks they left pointed this way, at least,” one was heard saying. “I hope so,” the other replied, “because I am not interested in trudging through these woods all night. What’s so important about these two anyway?” “I don’t know, that’s for the commanders to know,” the first replied. Gallus instinctively tensed as he was the first to roam into his view, the armored griffon only a dozen or so feet away from their hiding spot. “All I do know is that we’re supposed to find them and put them down, even if it means lethal force, so…they must’ve done something to tick off the higher-ups like that.” “Commodore Garrett did seem insistent that they couldn’t get away,” the second one noted. He was still somewhere out of Gallus’s view, but he sounded worryingly closer than the first. “There’s just so much secrecy to all of this though…” “Hey, we aren’t paid to think, we’re paid to follow orders,” the first said, looking back in the direction of his compatriot. “Now hurry up and come on, or we really will be out here all night.” “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be right there.” The second griffon was heard moving in the direction of the first. Relievingly, both looked like they were about to move on, but then the second griffon suddenly slowed. “Actually, no, hold up for a second.” “Why? You found something?” “…maybe? I guess it’s more of a hunch so just…just give me a sec to double-check.” Gallus tensed further and both he and Spike squeezed themselves as deep down into their hiding space as much as they could, praying it’d be enough while holding their breaths. Alarmingly, the second griffon was heard moving dangerously close to where they hid, proceeding to poke around their general area. Then, as if the several tense moments listening to him doing this weren’t bad enough, he stopped entirely somewhere nearby. Gallus couldn’t tell if he’d stopped at their tree precisely or not, but he sounded so close—enough that his every little movement was easy to hear—that if not their tree, then it had to have been one right next to it. The first griffon stood watching him nearby. “You finding anything?” he asked with strained patience while the other continued to be heard rustling distressingly close. For a tense moment, the second griffon hesitated to reply. “…no,” he finally replied, though with clear uncertainty. “No, I don’t think so…guess it wasn’t that great of a hunch anyway.” The first griffon scoffed in frustration. “Really? You wasted our time for nothing?” “Hey, we were deployed from the Reliant so abruptly, I’m lucky I even have a clue about what’s going on,” the second retorted as he hurried to rejoin the first, moving away again. “So cut me some slack!” “Oh, I’ll cut you all right, if you don’t get your head in the game!” the first replied as they finally moved on again. Their bickering continued, but it quickly faded from easy hearing as they left, unaware their targets had been hiding nearby. Nevertheless, Gallus and Spike continued holding their breaths, not ready to let their guard down. The minutes ticked by slowly, but other than the patrol ship—the Reliant, apparently—flying over their location as it searched from the air, no other dangers seemed to be coming their way. More importantly, it seemed no one else knew they were there. When a prolonged stretch of silence fell without further event and the sounds of the ongoing search continuing to move away from them, they let themselves relax a little. Still, they dared not leave the hole they had squeezed themselves into. “How long do you think you can stand being here?” Spike whispered after another prolonged moment, probably remembering Gallus’s claustrophobia. Admittedly, being crammed in here wasn’t pleasant for the griffon, but the gaps in the roots above them helped give the sense he wasn’t totally encased in here, taking some of the edge off. “Honestly, I think being out there in the open would bother me more right now,” he whispered back after a second of consideration. “Good, because I’m thinking we shouldn’t press our luck until we’re sure they’re gone and aren’t coming back,” Spike reasoned. When the Reliant’s spotlight was seen passing by in the distance, Gallus was forced to nod in agreement. “Better get comfortable then, because I think we’re going to be here for a while.” The hours passed agonizingly slowly. They had no other close calls venturing near their hiding spot after those two griffons, and they never returned to the area. The Reliant flew over the area once or twice more going both ways, but their hiding spot was too sheltered to be visible from the patrol ship. Eventually, Gallus became certain the search was indeed moving away from them, but very slowly, and as he could still distantly hear them sifting through the foliage, he knew they were still close enough to be a real danger. Meanwhile, the night grew darker still as time passed. The fire consuming what remained of Gene Type’s airship eventually going out, removing the nearest of their light sources, only added to the depth of the darkness. As it grew ever later and the adrenaline rush of the chase wearing off, Spike eventually dozed off. With exhaustion slowly seeping more and more into his own body the later it got, Gallus was envious. But he forced himself to stay awake so to continue keeping watch as a precaution, wanting to at least give it another couple hours first. It eventually got to the point though that Gallus needed something to distract him or else his growing tiredness would lull him asleep without realizing. Unfortunately, he had nothing of use in their hiding hollow except whatever was in Spike’s bag. And he was forcibly reminded of the complications of its contents when accidentally brushing a talon against the bloodline stone inside briefly caused it to light up before swiftly removing his touch again, afraid the light would give them away. To be honest, dealing with either it or the photo album were still the last things he wanted to do right now, but having literally nothing else to do, his combined boredom and exhaustion finally drove him to bite the bullet and carefully pull out the photo album. If what it contained really was the reality he was going to have to live in now, he decided he might as well figure out the full extent of what he was getting into. So, having just enough light to see the pages, he pulled open the photo album to its beginning and started going through it once more, this time taking in the details of the photos more fully. He found it surreal, looking at these pictures of what might be his parents, so much so his brain was doing flip-flops trying to comprehend this life he wasn’t sure he even remembered. He often found himself squinting at their faces and wondering if the faint sense of familiarity he got from them was the tug of some forgotten memory or just wishful thinking on his part. It was actually frustrating, because every now and then he’d get the unbidden glimpses of echoes in the back of his head, like the warm smile of the griffoness or the feel of the male dragon’s scales under his talons, but still feel terribly uncertain if it was actually a real memory or not. Whatever the case, Spike was right. They did seem to be loving creatures who clearly loved each other as much as the youth that eventually arose in their care. Though that raised a new series of questions once Gallus reached the pictures where his younger self started appearing—were he and Spike really related to these two creatures? The idea of a griffon and a dragon being in a serious relationship like that, let alone bearing offspring, seemed so foreign to him that it was still Gallus’s first instinct to deny it. Besides, he’d shown no signs of mixed breeding that he could tell for most of his life, enough to have felt confident he was a full-blood griffon, so how could he possibly have any dragon blood in his parentage? He kept thinking to himself that surely these two creatures merely adopting them as eggs was the more plausible explanation. But then he’d get to looking at the photos of him as a young griffon, slowly growing from newly hatched to fledgling, and compare his image with that of the griffoness and dragon caring for him and…he couldn’t help but see the relation more and more. Yes, despite his presumed dragon father, he still looked fully griffon. But he still had a couple clear traits from that father—his plumage was a cerulean color with a creamy tan belly, not unlike his father’s own dark navy blue and creamy tan colors. Yet his crest of feathers also faded to golden yellow at the tips like his presumed griffon mother as well as sharing her vibrant azure eyes. And it wasn’t just him either—Spike bore spines that, despite being slightly rounder in shape, were otherwise virtually identical to his father’s, as well as also having the same eye and ear frond colors. He also had the mother’s warm smile and her rounded face. It even occurred to Gallus that Spike’s purple coloring could theoretically stem from some blending of the father’s navy blue and the mother’s yellow-orange. It was just too many similarities to be a mere coincidence either way. But…what did that all mean then? What had happened to these lost parents? Considering how much Gallus and Spike were wanted dead, had they faced the same thing and just weren’t as lucky as he and Spike had thus far been? But then how did he and Spike escape that same fate back then, and why such a long delay before trying again now? Why were they wanted dead at all, for that matter? And above all else, who wanted them dead? Because in combination with Gene Type’s allusion he wasn’t working alone and the implications that the patrol ship griffons had been roped into assisting, it was clear they hadn’t yet met the actual mastermind of this whole scheme…just some of their pawns and lackeys. Which raised yet another question—who’d have the resources to recruit such a group of creatures? Incidentally, it was as Gallus was considering all of these questions that he found an important clue towards some answers. It was in an innocent looking photo about a third of the way into the album. It featured the griffoness seated on an ugly and second hand couch with a wide array of parchments and texts sprawled out on the table in front of her. It was a safe guess she’d been hard at work at the time the photo was taken presumably by her draconic partner since he was not visible. However, she clearly wasn’t so busy to not stop and smile for the camera, because she’d done precisely that. But she wasn’t the only creature in the picture. Another, older, griffon was seated on the couch behind the griffoness so much so she mostly obscured him from view. It was enough that if you weren’t looking closely at the photo, he’d be easy to miss, but he was there nonetheless. At the time the photo had been taken, he had slightly less wrinkles and slightly more feathers in his crest. But Gallus still recognized his annoyed face all the same, and even if he hadn’t, the fact his left eye was milky white from blindness all but gave him away as Grandpa Gruff nonetheless. Which meant Gruff had known at least this mysterious griffoness, and at a time after Gallus had already hatched from his egg and clearly visible within the household no less. He knew, Gallus slowly realized to himself, shocked. He KNEW. Gallus’s grip on the photo album started to tighten the more and more he thought about it. His eyes became alight in fury while anger built more and more within him as the implications sank in fully. It got to the point that Gallus threw caution to the wind once it all reached a boiling point. “I’m going to KILL HIM!”