Renwick took a deep breath as he knocked on the door of the bakery. He hoped this would be his only stop today, as he had enough trouble getting into town into the first place. Despite the flourishing economy and the large number of job openings, it had been incredibly difficult for him to procure an occupation. He had been rejected at every single establishment he’d applied at in the last town, and it was beginning to affect his morale. He would much rather have gone home and gone about his usual business, but the thought of returning to his irate mother without employment terrified him beyond all reason.
The door opened, revealing a tall stallion. Renwick thought he looked rather thin for someone who worked at a bakery. The nervous being cleared his throat, and wasted no time in introducing himself.
“Good morning, sir,” he said, hoping he was pronouncing the words right, “My name is Renwick, and I am here to ask if there are any employment opportunities available at your establishment.” He finished his sentence with a hopeful grin. The stallion, however, looked horrified. His mouth opened and closed like a fish, and his muscles grew stiff with fear. Renwick’s smile disappeared, and immediately he pulled out his monster-to-pony translator’s dictionary to make sure he had said it right. He was pretty sure he had, as he had spent the past few nights studying from the battered book.
“COCKATRICE!” screamed the stallion. Renwick smiled uneasily and began to recite another sentence he had memorized.
“Yes,” he said, “I am a cockatrice. I hope that in no way upsets you, or influences your decision to hire me.” The stallion froze up again, and began making small gasping noises. Renwick quickly realized that the situation was not going very well, and decided to engage the baker in small talk. Unfortunately, because the equine language was relatively new to him, this did not go well either.
“So,” began the serpentine bird, “The atmosphere sure is fiery today. It’s been beautiful fiery this somber, don’t you yes?”
The response he received to this oddly structured sentence was the door promptly slamming shut. Renwick stood still for a moment, unsure of what to do. He was fairly certain the stallion had no intention of inviting him in for an interview, and felt inclined to seek an occupation elsewhere. However, if by some small chance the baker did come back, Renwick worried that his absence could be interpreted as unwillingness to work.
However, the cockatrice quickly overcame this conundrum by leaving a small contact card on the bakery’s doorstep. It was not actually a card, but was rather a small piece of paper torn from a larger one with a crudely drawn picture of Renwick’s nest. Living as an animal in the Everfree, he did not have an address at which he could be found, and so had to put an image of his home instead. He had made several of such cards for today in case a possible employer wished to find him at another time.
Renwick sighed, hopped off the doorstep, and began his search for another business to apply at. As he walked down the street, he kept mentally listing what his qualifications and attributes were so that he would be able to proficiently recite them when asked. He was so focused on this that he didn’t really notice how empty the streets became when he traveled through them. He was vaguely aware that it was quiet, but assumed that it was because it was early morning. Not only that, but it was an early Monday morning. In preparation for his job hunting, Renwick had decided to start out on a Monday morning, because that was when most people hated going to work. He reasoned that if he were to apply in person at that time, he would be thought of as punctual and eager to start.
The cockatrice perked up as he spotted a large building ahead. This was because of the fanciful sign that stood in front. The word upon it that caught his attention was ‘boutique’, which was one of the words in his translator’s book that meant ‘store’ or ‘shop’. Renwick stood as tall as he could, and took care not to slouch as he approached the boutique, as he felt it had an air of high class. He was a little more nervous the closer he grew to the vicinity, as he again remembered his current status was living wild in the Everfree, and knew very little about class, high or low.
But he was quick to stifle his anxiety, as he had read that it was a quality employers were not typically enthused about. He had to look on task and in order if was to get hired. Steadying himself, Renwick reached out with his tail and knocked on the door, careful to make his knock sound strong and loud, but not brutish and uncivilized.
The door was opened by a white unicorn mare. As Renwick expected, she looked very high class, from her graceful posture to the vibrant purple sheen of her exquisitely luxurious mane. Her long eyelashes batted once as she looked down upon him with her brilliant blue eyes.
“Good morning, Madam,” began the cockatrice, “My name is Renwick, and I am here to ask if there are any employment opportunities available at this establishment.” The mare said nothing. She simply stared wide-eyed at the reptilian avian, her face completely blank. While Renwick thought he was doing better this time as she was not screaming, her lack of a reaction left him uncertain as to how to continue. When she continued to stare at him in her gaping manner, he cleared his throat and began again.
“If I could just have a few moments of your time, I would like to--” Renwick froze up and grimaced as the unicorn unleashed the most powerful, most piercing scream he had ever heard right into his ears. The mare suddenly whirled around and vanished inside of the boutique. Though her screaming did not sound very encouraging, the fact that she left the door open gave some hope to the cockatrice as it left the possibility that she shortly would return. She did, as a matter of fact, magically carrying something that Renwick had never seen before. It appeared to be some kind of canister.
Renwick suddenly stiffened up as she shot something into his face from the canister. It was like a fog bearing the stings of a thousand fiery wasps being forced into his eyes. Unable to contain his pain and panic, the cockatrice let out a loud squawk and wrapped his ribbed wings around his face and bolted away from the door. He blindly looped about the yard as he let out a series of agonized crows, crashing into thorny rosebushes and decorative topiaries. At last he finally came to a stop when he impacted a birdbath, knocking it over and spilling its water upon his head. He eagerly welcomed it, for it soothed the enormous pain he was experiencing.
Once recuperated, the cockatrice stood up and shook the water from his scales. Things had not gone as well as he hoped. From what he gathered from the mare’s actions, she did not desire him as an employee. Cursing his bad luck, Renwick hurriedly left the now somewhat untidy yard, wishing he had retained more control of himself when he had gone on his blind rampage.
As he scuttled down the road, the semi-avian wondered what it was that caused such blatant rejection from equines. He had done everything to make himself presentable. He had preened his scales, whet his beak on a rock until it shone like a diamond, and had even found a stick and attempted to brush his teeth. To make things even more baffling, all of this had been done under the direction of Steven, who out of anything in the Everfree knew the most about how to maintain appearances. The river serpent had claimed Renwick’s makeover had been a ‘transition to utter fabulousness’.
Renwick had no doubt in Steven’s judgment, and began to ponder the possibility that ponies simply didn’t like cockatrices. The two species rarely encountered one another as the latter inhabited rural and often dangerous forests, whilst equines dwelt in a considerably more refined civilization. Perhaps ponies felt that the presence of a cockatrice indicated they were living in a forest as opposed to a city. Renwick was certain that if this was the case, property values were somehow involved. He had no idea what property values were, but knew they were associated with housing and that they often caused problems.
Renwick was so engrossed in thought that he almost missed them. He would have passed them by entirely if it hadn’t of been for the voices that caught his ears. The cockatrice turned to see an enormous tree among the buildings, which struck him as odd as he had only ever seen trees this large back home in the forest. But what caught his attention were the three creatures outside. A purple unicorn, an owl, and a small dragon. Renwick stood still for a moment, watching them talk. While he couldn’t understand everything they said, he soon understood that the dragon and the owl were underlings to the unicorn, who seemed to be giving them orders from a list.
The cockatrice’s hopes immediately rose up from the gutters of despair. He reached a quick conclusion after another moment. An owl is a bird. A dragon is a reptile. Renwick realized, rather proudly, that he was both. There was no doubt in his mind that the unicorn would hire him. Filled with genuine confidence, the cockatrice began to stride over to the mare. She did not see him as she was facing the other way, nor did she hear his approach as the sound of her voice drowned it out.
“Good morning, Madam,” Renwick said, “My-”
“Please hold on a moment,” the unicorn said, not looking up from her list. Renwick’s smile disappeared, and his poise faltered. In his moment of eagerness the cockatrice had forgotten equine etiquette, which dictated that it was not polite to interrupt. The moments that followed this incident, Renwick began to doubt himself. He wondered if he had messed up his chances of acquiring employment. One had to be polite if one was to get employed, and starting off by interrupting your potential employer was not the best thing to do.
His doubt worsened as the unicorn’s minions left, and she finally turned around. Renwick’s red eyes widened as he realized who she was. The mare was none other than the unicorn who had snuck up on him a few weeks ago. This factor pretty much destroyed any chance he had of applying. There was no chance in Tartarus now that she would hire him, even though it was mostly her fault that she had been turned to stone, as it is unwise to sneak up on an easily startled creature with the ability to petrify.
When the mare saw him, she became so stiff that it seemed she had once again been turned to stone. Renwick gulped. He had absolutely no idea what to do. His instincts gave him several suggestions. One was to inhale a large quantity of air to make himself appear larger. Another was to run away. And the third was to use his petrifying ability. However, Renwick had been conditioning himself to ignore these instincts while in the presence of a potential employer. Bereft of them, he could only think to do one thing.
“Good Morning, Madam. My name is Renwick, and I am here to ask if there are any employment opportunities available at this establishment.”
For several moments afterward there was a silence. Renwick watched as the mare’s jaw dropped in astonishment, though he had no idea why it would do so. He actually wasn’t too concerned, as he was happy she hadn’t used her magic to throw him into a lamppost.
“Did…Did you just talk?…” the mare sputtered at last.
“Yes,” replied Renwick, trying to sound quick-witted and intelligent incase she decided to hire him, “I did.” There was another long silence before the unicorn cleared her throat and shook her head. She looked back to the cockatrice with a strange sort of fascination in her eyes.
“You can…talk…” she said, her wide-eyed stare making Renwick feel slightly uncomfortable.
“Yes,” repeated the cockatrice, “Indeed.” For a brief moment a wide, giddy grin stretched across the mare’s face. It was quickly replaced by a more refined, friendly smile.
“You are a cockatrice,” she ventured once more, “That can talk.” Renwick slowly nodded as he saw a frighteningly brilliant thought process at work behind the unicorn’s purple eyes.
“I can talk,” restated Renwick, “I am bilingual.” This wasn’t technically true. Cockatrices generally speak Monster, with occasional bits of Reptilian or Avian. Renwick only spoke Monster, and was in the beginning stages of learning Equine. He noticed a small spark behind the unicorn’s eyes upon mentioning his linguistic abilities.
“This is incredible,” she breathed, “A bilingual cockatrice…and it talked to me!”
“Indeed,” said Renwick, “I am here to ask if there are any employment opportunities available at this establishment.” His statement seemed to draw the unicorn out of her ecstatic state, and she looked back to him sheepishly.
“Hmm? Oh, yes, of course. You want a…job, you said?” A sharp-toothed smile of joy suddenly adorned Renwick’s beak. This was the first time anyone had actually responded in a positive manner to his request of employment.
“Yes!” he replied with an enthusiastic nod, “I am seeking an occupation!”
“Then, uh,” said the mare, “Let’s set up an interview.” Renwick’s smile grew wider.
“Thank you!” he beamed, “When shall we meet?”
“How about right now?” the mare grinned as she nudged the creature into the library, swiftly closing the door as they entered, “Take a seat on the couch, I’ll be right back!” Renwick felt the mare rush past him and sprint into another room. He did precisely what she had told him to do and made a beeline to the couch. The avian seated himself in a dignified manner, making sure he wasn’t slouching. Slouching, as he had read, was not what an employer expected from an employee.
He hadn’t waited a minute before the unicorn mare returned, levitating several objects behind her. Once she reached the chair that sat across from the couch, she seated herself and positioned the objects around Renwick. Once she had finished, the mare turned to the cockatrice and placed an unusual device in his wing. Renwick looked down at it for a moment. It was cylindrical in structure, with one end topped off by a round, black, spongy ball. A wire came out of the other end and led up to a small box that had two metal circles on it.
“Alright,” said the unicorn as she held an odd-looking object up to her face, placing it over one eye, “We can begin. So, um…What position are you seeking?” Renwick smiled. It was happening. He was finally having an interview, and there was a possibility that he might get a job.
“I am seeking any posit--”
“Hold on,” the mare interrupted, gently moving his wing so that he was holding the device to his beak, “Okay. Continue.”
“I am seeking any position that you believe I am qualified for,” said Renwick, sounding confident for the first time this morning. The mare nodded, keeping the object in her forelegs trained diligently upon him.
“Could you please list your qualifications?”
“I can turn things to stone.”
“Um…Okay,” replied the mare, “What other attributes do you possess?”
“I’m punctual and try to be efficient when ever I’m given a task,” continued Renwick, “And I have a keen eye for detail.”
“Do you have any special skills that I should know about?” asked the unicorn.
“…I can turn things to stone,” answered Renwick.
“You’ve already said that.”
Renwick’s confidence vanished as quickly as it had come. His smile faded, being replaced by a faint frown.
“Well…I can provide other services…” he said, his voice noticeably quieter.
“How so?”
“I can crow…and forage for food.” Renwick resisted the urge to fly out the window, as fleeing was typically the first instinct he was inclined to follow when he experienced anxiety.
“I see,” said the mare, “So, have you ever worked in a library before, and if so, where did you work?” Renwick fell back
on another memorized statement.
“I have never been employed, but am eager and willing to start working.” He smiled, but unfortunately it looked exactly as he felt: Pathetic and nervous.
“I see. Well, Mr. Renwick, you certainly have some…interesting talents.”
“Thank you,” murmured the cockatrice, waiting for the inevitable ‘but’.
“But I’m not sure if I need anyone who can turn things to stone,” she said, “At least, not at this time. However, I think that there is a special place that might be interested in your abilities.” Her words dredged Renwick out of his oncoming depression, and his smile suddenly returned.
“Really?”
“Yes,” said the unicorn, “There is a University of Biology in Canterlot that studies all kinds of creatures, and I think you’d be very welcome there.”
“…Canterlot?” asked the avian. Canterlot was really the only word he had understood in the sentence the mare had said, but he was able to guess that the job she spoke to him of was in Canterlot. This would be a problem, however. Though he had never been there, Renwick had heard from some crows that Canterlot was a fully urban environment. Certainly not the kind of place a cockatrice would survive. Not only that, but it was terribly far away from the Everfree. If he were to get a job there and still remain at his current residence, the commute would be a nightmare. Ultimately Renwick realized that there was no way he could get the job the unicorn spoke of, even if he was qualified.
“I’m…sorry,” he said at last, “But I don’t think that I can get the job in Canterlot. It’s too much far, and I can’t fly all that length in one sunlight. Thank you, though.” His failing words drew a bewildered look from the mare. While she tried to decipher them, Renwick stood up from the couch and started for the door.
“Wait!” cried the unicorn, “Where are you going?”
“To work on my résumé,” sighed the avian as he turned the doorknob with his tail and opened it. The unicorn stood up and made an attempt to follow him, but by the time she had reached the door the cockatrice was already gone.
As he flew back to the Everfree, Renwick had to wonder what he would tell his mother when he arrived back at the nest. She certainly wouldn’t be happy to hear he had failed yet again to get a job. She would be even more unhappy to hear that there was a job that he had a good chance of getting, even if it was all the way in Canterlot. Already he could hear her screeching angrily, her voice loud enough to frighten a manticore. Renwick shuddered mid-flight, ruffling his feathers. He did not want to disappoint his mother again. But there was nothing he could do to change the fact that he had absolutely no traits beneficial to the pony workforce.
It was then that Renwick realized something terribly important. Never in his life had he heard of a cockatrice that had a job. In fact, he had never heard any creature in the Everfree mention any sort of employment. Not even Steven had a job.
Why, then, was his mother goading him into getting one?
The answer presented itself the moment the question was asked: His mother did not want him around.
An answer such as this would normally crush someone. Especially someone with Renwick’s tendency to be depressed. But rather than grief, Renwick felt joy.
He did not like to be around his mother either.
Therefore, rather than return dejectedly to the nest and endure endless hours of berating, the cockatrice decided to do the one thing that would make both he and his mother happy.
Renwick was going to build his own nest.