//------------------------------// // Wednesday, Nov. 17 // Story: Eagleheart // by Metal Pony Fan //------------------------------// Wednesday, November 17th, So, Gilda is full of surprises. She is the first griffin I’ve ever met that is strictly vegetarian. This being a hunting trip, there is some conflict of interest, but I have promised to limit myself to fish and the occasional small game. She also bears no animosity towards me for our current circumstances, which is good, because she caused the injuries which led us to our current situation. Or, put plainly, it’s her fault. no it’s not I apologize for that, Gilda was reading over my shoulder and took the journal when I- dude, you’re apologizing to a book And writing a message about it, since I’m right here, is passive-aggressive. you just did it too Yes, but I’m doing it to illustrate a poi- why are you even doing this? Writing? yes My mentor asked me to keep a journal, at first, I was doing it to comply with his wishes. It’s only been a few days, but I’m finding it to be comforting. really? tell me you did not just say that I didn’t, I wrote it. you know what I meant Yes, I do. I mean it though, haven’t you ever felt frustrated with something, but didn’t have anyone to talk to? Being next in line to an aerie means you can’t show your feelings or weaknesses to others, this gives me a way to talk to someone without actually talking to someone. that shouldn't make sense, but it kind of does Want to give it a try? not really You sure? yes Just a little try? ok, fine Thank you. shut up Yo, this is Gilda, I’m gonna take this guy’s word on this and see what all the hype is about. I don’t see how writing in a book is supposed to make me feel any better about what’s going on, but hey, it can’t make me feel any worse. I’m heiress to a large aerie in the western riverkill mountains. I am also about to get married. I never wanted either of those things. All I want is to be able to live my life as I see fit, to fly free, to follow my own path, but it seems that my path has always been laid out by others. all my travels, my adventures beyond the griffin borders, were carefully planned and financed. I got away with so much because I had diplomatic immunity, and I never even knew it. I was a spoiled brat, rebelling against fate, only to find out that the rebellion was an illusion and that fate had a tighter grip on me than I could ever shake off. I don’t care for politics, and after this, who can blame me? But it seems I may have to get used to the way things are. I can at least be glad that the guy I’m stuck marrying isn’t a complete jerk. The jury’s still out on me though. one day I’m going to make it back to ponyville and apologize, but until then, I miss everyone. Not just Dash, but all the flight school instructors, all the other students, all the ponies, and zebras, and minotaurs, and everything else I saw and met out there in the world. Enjoy your freedom, you’re lucky to have it Gilda Greypatch Hey. I may have to get one of these for myself, but if you ever share what I wrote, I will make your married life a living Tartarus. What did I say, full of surprises. Eagleheart P.S. I’m one hundred percent sure that means she would kill me. Wednesday, Seventeenth of November, Dear Diary, I feel like dirt. I am sweaty and filthy from twelve hours of replanting Appleoosan Apple trees. I also had to put up with a happy-go-lucky stallion that shouted everything he said, he was in charge of everything. But it’s over now,the trees are moved and there’s no further need for “volunteers.” Tomorrow morning, I take the train to the next place in need of menial labor. Now for the reason I feel like dirt. Pinkie came to see me at the train station. She didn’t say anything, she just handed me an envelope before I got on the train. I tried to throw it away, but for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Instead, I just tossed it in my bag. I opened it just a few moments ago, she apologized. She wrote a letter of apology, to me. On top of that, she didn’t know, she didn’t know who he was, why he was there, or anything like that. She just wanted to try gelato, and they started talking while she was waiting for her order. She apologized even though she did nothing wrong. There was something else in the envelope as well, folded up in the letter, a gift card to that very same Istallion restaurant for the amount of fifty-three bits. I don’t know how, but when I get back to Ponyville, I have to find a way to make it up to her. Roseluck P.S. One of these days, I should look into changing my name, the word luck has no business being associated with me. How does “Rose” sound?