“You’re friends with flip-flop and the door mat? Lame” Gilda finishes. A sour look on her face as she turns. Twilight’s horn lit up and grabbing the griffin in her magic, halting her departure.
“Gilda, nopony talks that way about my friend. Nopony,” Twilight growled. Her horn dimmed, releasing Gilda, while her eyes tried to bore holes through the griffin. At that moment, the only pony in existence who could have stared harder would have been the element of kindness.
It was not enough: Gilda remained unfazed by the purple alicorn’s assault. “Hrmph, what a dweeb. You aren’t very cool for sticking up for dweebs like those two.”
King Grendel chose that moment to walk into the room. “Gilda Ironbeak,” he spoke sternly, “what have I told you about insulting our guests?”
Gilda rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, don’t insult the lame-o ponies,” she said sarcastically. Grendel’s wing sprang open and whacked his daughter upside the head. Gilda only grunted in annoyance. Feathers don’t hit very hard, so the act was one of humiliation rather than inflicting pain.
“I do apologize. My daughter’s arrogance has grown to ridiculous heights lately.” The king sighed. “Now hurry and drop your belongings in your room. I assume that Princess Celestia has informed you about our traditional hunt?”
“Yes, your highness. I am aware of it,” Twilight affirmed.
“Good. Unfortunately, my counsel will not consider working with you until we get this out of the way. Personally, if it was up to me, I would abolish the tradition. Unfortunately, culture and tradition fall under the jurisdiction of the council.” Grendel gave a light chuckle. “Vultures, the lot of them,” he said under his breath. “The hunting party will leave in two hours. Dress warmly. Even though the trees will block most of the wind, the forecast calls for subzero temperatures tonight. We can’t postpone this.”
“I understand. Spike and I will be ready,” Twilight said, giving a glance to her assistant. She noticed that Gilda had wandered off at some point during the conversation.
“Oh? Your assistant will be joining us?” Grendel asked, surprise evident in his voice. “Only you are required to go, Princess. He may stay here, if he wishes.”
“No, I want to go. Dragons can eat meat, after all. Someday, I’ll grow too big for pony society, and I will have to care for myself,” Spike said. “The earlier I learn how, the better.”
Grendel blinked at the pony-raised dragon’s bluntness. Sure he knew dragons ate meat, but he had assumed that living with ponies would have repressed that aspect. Grendel looked towards Twilight to judge her reaction. He was startled by the fact that the alicorn was not disgusted by her assistant’s words. In fact, she seemed almost completely accepting of the little dragon. This was not something the griffin king had ever expected to see in a pony. As he continued to read her face, he noticed something else. ‘Is that… envy?’
The snow around them muffled all sound. Spike again warmed his claws with a small jet of green flame, his cold blooded body shivering in the cold. Gilda leaned against a tree, annoyed that she had been dragged along with the group. Five of the council members stood around Twilight and Grendel. The former levitated a bow and arrow, having been pressured into it by Grendel’s advisors. Not wanting to cause a political incident, Twilight had relented.
The guilt about her future actions weighed heavily on the young princess’s heart. Eating meat was one thing, but actually killing a living animal? Fluttershy would tear her to pieces. She shook her head and pushed the thoughts aside. Twilight had to do this. There were too many consequences if she did not. ‘I wish the snow could numb my heart as much as it numbs my hooves.’ She dragged up the scientific part of her mind to bury her emotions. ‘What is it like to be a predator?’
The bow, held in her magical grip, was aimed at an unsuspecting doe in the distance. Twilight worked the magic, enchanting the arrow so that it would fly straight, pierce easily, and instantly numb the deer. That way, it would die quickly and painlessly. The magic on the string ended, releasing the enchanted arrow. With a sickening thump, the doe dropped to the ground.
Twilight's tears followed an instant later, flowing freely from her eyes. She was furious at the griffins for making her do this; at herself for relenting; and worse of all, at her own heart. She was absolutely appalled that she had a fragment of herself that enjoyed the whole situation, that enjoyed the thrill of the hunt. That fragment was happy with her accomplishment – with her kill – and wanted nothing more than to eat every last morsel of that deer.
It did not help that all of the griffins were crowding around her, Gilda included, and congratulating her on a job well done. She had earned their respect, but at what cost to Twilight’s soul? Though the griffins failed to notice her distress, Spike most certainly did not. His eyes said it all: he understood and would be there for her. Twilight smiled her thanks.
The dining hall was bustling with activity. Noble griffins and royalty chatted amongst themselves. Waitstaff brought out a large selection of dishes, each prominently featuring some sort of meat. Spike recognized some of the ones that he had tried from Twilight’s cookbook. Princess Gilda sat next to Princess Twilight. The griffin king sat on the other side of his daughter.
“Princess, that was way cool,” Gilda said. She was so excited by the alicorn’s performance in the forest. Normally, a pony would conveniently ‘miss’ their one shot. Since Twilight had actually managed to hit the deer and kill it, she had earned far more respect amongst the griffins. So much, that in Gilda’s case, the griffin princess had dropped much of her arrogance. “That was quite the shot. I can’t wait to see how the chefs prepare it.”
“Yeah…” Twilight agreed absentmindedly. In truth, she was not listening to anyone. Her mind was in a fog at the moment, still comprehending how un-ponylike she had become. The weight of her actions in the forest, compounded with her weeks of experimentation, had left Twilight a mere empty shell.
One of the waiters served Gilda and Twilight. The alicorn’s plate contained a cut of the deer’s meat, as well as a salad for her normal consumption. She was expected to try a small bite of the meat, out of politeness for the chef, but the salad was intended to be her main course. There was a bucket nearby, as nopony had ever been able to swallow without throwing up before, not even the other Equestrian princesses.
Of course, Twilight wasn’t thinking about etiquette, history, or anything for that matter. Her frazzled mind wasn’t thinking about anything. She was staring off into space, mindlessly eating whatever her levitating fork could find on her plate.
Stab.
Chew.
Swallow.
Stab.
Chew.
Swallow.
Stab.
Chew.
Swallow.
Stab.
Chew.
Swallow.
It took Twilight a moment to realize that a hush had descended upon the dining hall. She took another bite as she looked around. Every pair of eyes in the room were staring at her. Every pair, that is, except for Spike’s. He was face-clawing.
Twilight thought, ‘Did I do something wrong?’ She looked down at her plate. Her salad was untouched, but her cut of the deer was gone. The fork in her mouth still tasted of the salty meat, which she now reluctantly admitted to being far above anything she had ever tasted so far. Twilight couldn’t help it and let a tiny smile crack upon her previously stoic face.
Not missing the change in her expression, King Grendel cleared his throat. “Well… that… is not something you see every day.”