Jigsaw awoke in his bed of hay. The morning sun was just beginning to rise and several of it’s rays leaked through the holes in the wall. Jigsaw turned away from the light and did his best to bury his face in the hay, attempting to block out the sun’s offensive light. While he was successful in doing so he now faced another problem. The hay began to scratch at his nose and eyes, and every slight move caused the hay to run across his face. He tried in vain to control his instinct to retreat, and finally gave in when his stomach growled enthusiastically. Jigsaw rolled out of bed and struggled to summon the energy to get the food he craved.
Jigsaw dragged himself to the restroom and did his business then washed his hands using a hand pump that was connected to a bucket of water that lay outside. He did his best with the soap, but it didn’t quite clean like the soap did back home. He pulled his toothbrush from his bag out of habit but decided against it when he noticed the color of the water. The scent of something cooking reminded him of his hunger, more intense than it usually was after all that work yesterday and he headed toward the kitchen. The smell obviously attracted the young griffons as Jigsaw was swept up in a sea of cascading feathers which drove him relentlessly forward. Some of the younger ones made squawking sounds while the older ones did their best to keep things moving and organised. Jigsaw did his best to follow along and was unknowingly seated at the head of the table, an honor normally bestowed to the head of the household. Some time passed and while the older griffons attempted to communicate with him it soon became apparent that the language barrier was too great. They tried to communicate with gestures and such, but it was only so effective. After a time they decided to not exactly give up, but put their linguistic crusade on a temporary hiatus. Jigsaw contented himself with observing the young griffons communicate with their strange bird like language. After a time his short attention span got the better of him and he let his mind and eyes wander. He observed the few pieces of art that the family still possessed and was briefly fascinated with the intricate stitching on the rug, the unique colors on a painting, and the detailed craftsmanship on a vase. Even these exquisite pieces couldn’t keep his mind off the smell of food, being cooked over a nearby fire outside. The smell was intoxicating, blocking out all other rational thought. Jigsaw instinctively looked towards the smell and was rewarded to glimpse a black cauldron over a hot fire. Jigsaw’s mouth instinctively started to water when he saw that the griffons were getting up from the table and getting bowls and spoons. Jigsaw did his best to follow but for some reason all of the griffons kept pushing him forward so he was the first for everything. Needless to say, he was rather nervous about being shoved into an unfamiliar situation without knowing what to do and had to be guided by the hoof for most of it. The whole process took longer, way longer, than it should have and Jigsaw’s stomach was giving him fits. He noticeably relaxed when his host family began eating. Finally, here was something that he knew how to do. Without fear or hesitation Jigsaw picked up his spoon and began shoveling the broth into his mouth. The motion from bowl to mouth was so rapid that it looked like a blur. His breathing, nonexistent, except in the slight moment it took for him to get more. His movements were almost mechanical. They were precise and measured and carried a certain rhythm that took Jigsaw years to master.
In all his enthusiasm he failed to notice the glances, stares, and outright looks of horror he was eliciting from his host family. Jigsaw only paused when he noticed an uncomfortable silence and felt everyone’s eyes on him. He smiled sheepishly and offered a meek apology which the griffons took in kind.
Jigsaw felt embarrassed for his display and obvious lack of table manners and decided to make up for it by studying how the griffons ate. The first thing he noticed was how they all seemed to carry a conversation while they ate. Each would have his or her turn to contribute and the whole thing surprised Jigsaw. He couldn’t help but marvel at how well the conversation flowed and subconsciously compared it to his own eating. This too had measured and precise moments where one could speak and one could eat, but it was something more. It was alive, and the conversation quickly changed directions. Jigsaw could only understand it in terms of a flock of birds all changing directions simultaneously for seemingly no reason whatsoever.
Jigsaw continued to watch until his attention span got the better of him. He returned to his food and ate slowly enough this time that he could actually taste what he was eating. He wasn’t positive and he swished some of the broth over his tongue to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. The taste was there though, and Jigsaw swallowed hard. He took his spoon and stirred it through is soup until he came upon something hard and bony. The vibration from the spoon hitting the bone ran up his forehoof and sent a shiver down his spine. He reluctantly took the morsel up from the murky depths of his bowl and shuddered at the revelation.
He was eating meat.
The thought instantly cured his hunger and he let the meat descend to the murky depths from which it came. Jigsaw tired to put on a fake smile and pretend that everything was ok, but the griffons were exceptionally good at reading body language and could tell that something was wrong. Jigsaw tried his best to fake it and even took another bite while they all watched. It was painfully obvious that Jigsaw disliked the soup, what with the scrunched face, visible shuddering, and the occasional eye twitch.
JIgsaw felt stuck. He knew he should eat the food out of respect and all, but at the same time he just didn’t like it. Jigsaw could feel the tension in the room as everyone had taken notice of his dislike of the soup. Jigsaw decided to go on a limb and just ask for some daffodils. After all, asking for something never hurt anyone and the worst that could happen is they would say no.
The griffons expressed unanimous confusion at the idea of eating daffodils, and some of the younger ones were curious as to what they even were. When Jigsaw explained that he needed a different kind of diet, the griffons were a little shocked and apologized for their lack of knowledge and offered to find Jigsaw some daffodils. The older griffons took the hint and excused themselves from the table, taking to the sky in search of the flower that Jigsaw had described. The eating resumed, although the conversation was slightly more subdued and it slowed down substantially with the absence of older griffons. Jigsaw patiently waited for their return, hoping that it would come sooner than later, his stomach accenting his thoughts with a grumble.
The older griffons arrived with lot’s of fresh flowers, each looking better than the last. There was only one slight problem... none of them were daffodils. They explained that no matter where they looked they could not find the flowers that Jigsaw had been describing and they didn’t want to make him wait too long for something to eat so they picked some flowers that they thought looked good on the way home. Jigsaw was a bit dissapionted that he didn’t get daffodils, but at least he didn’t have to eat that meat soup anymore. The griffons placed the flowers in front of him and took their own places at the table and began eating their breakfast. Jigsaw took up some of the flowers, but when they got close to his mouth, his nose wrinkled at the nasty smell. He put down the flowers and subtely checked his pits, just to make sure.
‘Nope, all good... weird. Wonder what that smell was?’
Jigsaw again took the flowers into his hoof and again the strange smell. He paused as he realised that the smell was coming from the flowers. His belly protested again and soon overrid any logical part in his brain, compelling him to eat the whole hoof full at once. The texture was typical of normal flowers, but there was a bitter taste that only intensified as he chewed. He tried to ignore it, but the arouma they released was enough to bring a few tears to his eyes, and when he swallowed he could tell that it wouldn’t sit well in his stomach. He went for another hoof full, smaller this time, and notciably more slowly which the griffon family could pick up on as if Jigsaw had announced “I don’t like these flowers, but I’ll eat them anyway... even if I end up getting sick in the process.”
As expected, the griffons asked what was wrong, and Jigsaw explained that the flowers tasted awful. Jigsaw tried to explain that he didn’t mind that much, saying that the flowers wern’t that different from daffodils. The parents could tell Jigsaw was lying and offered to get him some of these daffodils that he kept talking about, which made Jigsaw’s ears perk up a bit. He was surprised when the griffons agreed to his request and told him it would only take a moment to go to the market and get the desired flower. Jigsaw sighed in relief that his desire didn’t create a massive argument or any sort of tension. He sat in his chair and watched as the early morning sun traced it’s lazy arc through the sky.
It wasn’t long before the daffodils arrived and were presented to Jigsaw almost as if it were a gift. With great enthusiasm Jigsaw grabbed the flowers and quickly unwrapped them. His high spirits were dampened when he noticed that the flowers were not in full bloom and some of the leaves on the outside were turning brown and were pocket marked with holes. He took a bite and he could practically taste the residual rot instead of the succulent flavor he desired. He looked up to his host family who were genuinely interested in his appraisal of the meal.
The griffons seemed to sense a slight hesitation and swiftly apologise for their humble offering, explaining that these things are harder to grow in the mountains and they often die in the journey to the market. The children tried to express their loyalty to Jigsaw, telling him they picked through the entire vendor’s stock and picked the very best. The older one’s bragged about their ability to talk the vendor down on his prices, and wished Jigsaw good fortunes for the day ahead. On that note, most of the griffons left the table to wash the dishes and clean up after themselves. The mother and father said their goodbyes and left for their respective jobs, which remained a mystery to Jigsaw. Having nothing better to do, Jigsaw finished his breakfast by himself and waited for the volunteer guide while he doodled in one of his notebooks that he brought along.
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Time seemed to pass slower than usual and it felt like the volunteer guide was running late, although it was hard to tell because Jigsaw didn’t have an hourglass and wasn’t used to telling the time from the angle of the sun. He was getting a weird feeling of boredom, anxiety, and restlessness around his third page of doodling. He let his mind wander to Berry and the sweet scent of her mane. Even though they had been apart for about ten hours he could still smell her mane. He breathed in and sighed, lost in the chemical euphoria of his mind. He noticed that the scent was getting stronger the longer he thought about her. He sat back in his chair with his hoofs behind his head and enjoyed the moment, which ended much sooner than he would have liked when Berry poked her head through the window and yelled at him to hurry up and get his flank outside.
Jigsaw tuned in his chair and gathered his things while saying goodbye to his host family and hurried to meet Berry outside. His mood was lifted as he listened to Berry ramble off facts about her host family, the volunteer project, and some of the words she learned. She showed him some of the things her host family had given her as gifts and explained what each thing was and why it was special, not only to her, but as part of the griffon culture. Jigsaw made a mental note to start paying closer attention when he noticed that the volunteer guide happened to be listening in on them. Jigsaw’s ears perked and he couldn’t help but keep one of his eyes on the guide. Naturally the guide sensed this and decided to take a more active role in the conversation.
“Did you know, my little ponies, that the Griffon Kingdom used to be the richest in all of Equestria?”
The two looked at the tattered ruins of the city as the winds kicked up dust that blew through the streets. Jigsaw looked for the remains of the once proud structures through the rubble while Berry asked the obvious question.
“If it was so great, what happened?”
“It was a combination of over ambitious leaders seeking to expand the Kingdom faster than it should have, which resulted in massive amounts of different cultures joining the Kingdom without allowing for them to acclimate. Combined with The Great War and the numerous riots the griffon military was stretched too thin to properly manage the defenses and guards can only do so much. They are only failed soldiers after all and are really more like peacekeepers meant to work through intimidation, which is only as strong as the fear of those being intimidated. When the Kingdom was small, and the warriors strong and plentiful, this fear was great. But when Kale took the throne through deception and politics, he moved the many griffons who were nervous with the change by promising expansion. It was effective because it unified the griffons as one and gave them a purpose. Needless to say, as the Kingdom expanded, the corrupt politics and unfairness to the new members of the Kingdom quickly replaced any fear they may have felt with anger and bitter hatred. They rebellion waited until they sensed that the Kingdom was weak, training with whatever weapons they could find or make. Once the first few riots started, it spread like wildfire and eventually consumed the Kingdom. It’s sad isn't it? The griffon people were once a proud race. Now look. Begging in the streets and catching field mice just to stay alive because of the careless actions of a few well placed individuals.”
Jigsaw was reminded of his breakfast earlier that day and tried to understand the situation from the griffons point of view. To them it must have been as bad as spitting in their faces when he refused the meal. He thought about how the griffons had bragged about talking down the vendor. After several moments his eyes went wide when he realised how much his simple request must have cost the griffon family. Out of curiosity, and a newfound sense of growing guilt, Jigsaw caught the attention of the volunteer guide.
“So... um, how bad off do you think the griffons are now?”
“Not as bad as you would first think. The past kings had a high sense of luxury, which most of the griffons despised and so tried to remove the prestigious landmarks in favor of the more humble dwellings. That’s why many of the buildings are ravaged, you see. Most of the families have made off with some kind of treasure from them though, as you have no doubt seen in your host families households.”
Jigsaw’s mind flashed back to the items he observed earlier, only to be pulled back to reality by the volunteer guide’s voice.
“The griffons are able to hunt and feed on the land. It is not a life of luxury, but it is enough for us. However, the economy is still slow because the war, especially the rebellion that followed, which destroyed many roads and bridges in an attempt to disrupt enemy movements.”
“But can’t griffons fly? Wouldn’t it be easier to just fly over the broken bridges?”
“Ah, you are a clever girl. But consider the size of the armies involved. Such armies would need supplies, like food, water, armor, weapons, and a place to repair them. Sleeping quarters are also a necessity as well. To fly with all of these things would be a great feat indeed, but it is far more practical to move things in carts and supply carriages. It also makes it easier for travelling pony folk who can’t fly to visit as well as bringing in traders and merchants.”
“Then with the roads knocked out, how do you survive?”
“Simple, young Jigsaw. We content ourselves with the things we already have and turn our attention to helping others and in any other way we can until the roads are complete. Once they are done it will be much easier to move supplies into the city and then we can start repairing our buildings. That should, over time, bring in traders and merchants. Many griffons would hate to admit it, but they grew rather fond of the way life was, when we had a strong economy. To some, the idea of going back to our “primitive” heritage is out of the question and have petitioned Princess Twilight Sparkle herself for aid. Which is where you come in, in case I lost you?”
The volunteer guide let out a hearty chuckle when he noticed Jigsaw and Berry both had that thousand yard stare that one easily gets when being lectured for too long.
“Besides, it’s good to get out in the world and experience new things. You can only learn so much in a dusty classroom after all.”
Berry half heartedly said under her breath “It’s not dusty, I cleaned it last week before we left.” Her comment was lost to Jigsaw’s, which perked the griffon’s curiosity.
“So with the roads out, I imagine it is a lot harder to get trade goods and basic supplies up here except by train, right? Out of curiosity, how much more does something cost here than in Ponyville?”
“Ah... an interesting question, Jigsaw. Now I am curious myself, why are you asking this?”
“Because Berry and I tried to buy some food in the train station because I was hungry and we gave a lot of bits for a few templars, whatever those are, and then gave a third of them for only a handful of oats.”
“I see. Unfortunately you may have been cheated a bit. Prices at the station are more expensive than elsewhere and there are several shady stands as well. It’s not much, but it’s enough that over time it really cuts into the savings. In general though, prices are high. It isn’t uncommon for a single meal to cost a day’s pay. Which is why the griffons feel strongly about returning to their humble heritage, at least for a time.”
“How long of a time do you think it will take for things to get better?” Berry asked casually.
“It’s hard to say, really. So many things depend on each other. With times as hard as they are right now, it may take years, possibly tens of years to get back where we once were. But we are well on our way thanks to little fillies and colts like you.”
Despite the way the conversation was going, Jigsaw began to space out and his eyes drifted to the side of the road. He could see the numerous griffon families saying their goodbyes as the adults flew off to work. He could see how the younger ones would try to copy them, but glided back to the ground once they were a few feet in the air, their wings unable to carry them. They passed by another house and Jigsaw saw another family. The older griffons looked like they were teaching the younger ones how to preen. Even from this distance, they looked thin and a rather large pile of feathers were accumulating beneath their feet.
“And so that’s when he said “but he’s only got his shelf to blame.” Of course I thought he was drunk, but when we found out he was serious we laughed even harder.”
Berry couldn’t contain herself and laughed so hard that she began to snort like a pig, which only caused her to laugh more. It took her several seconds to realize that Jigsaw wasn’t laughing. Instead he was staring at the ground looking at who knew what. His face was scrunched up, not quite to a frown, but close, and there was definitely something different about his eyes. They seemed distant, yet filled in... if that makes any sense. Berry calmed down and became more serious as she slowed down enough to let Jigsaw catch up. When they were side by side she put a hoof on his shoulder and looked into his eyes. He jumped a little, but relaxed when he saw that it was Berry. At first he looked off to the side, but when the hoof didn’t leave he looked back at her. He knew that she knew something was wrong, and when she asked he lied and tried to brush it off as simply being tired. Berry however, wasn’t buying it and turned Jigsaw so that he faced her.
“Jigsaw, what’s wrong. It’s ok, you can tell me.” She stared at him for a long time, her eyes begging for the truth. When Jigsaw looked up, he didn’t have a chance but he tried to stall for a few moments in an attempt to phrase what he was thinking about so that it would have the least impact.
“I uh... was hungry this morning.”
“And how is that different from any other morning?”
“Well, umm... it wasn’t.”
“Then what’s the problem? Everypony is hungry in the morning, so what?”
“They served me soup for breakfast, and it had meat in it.”
“Well, ok. But I still don’t understand why that matters?”
“I hate meat. I can’t stand it so I asked for some daffodils instead.”
“I still don’t see the problem Jigsaw, and you seem especially moody over something so small.”
“They could tell that I didn’t like the soup and tried to bring me some flowers that they could find but when I tried to eat those... They were terrible. They could tell I didn’t like them and went to the market to buy me some daffodils instead.”
“I still don’t understand Jigsaw.”
“Don’t you see, Berry? Those daffodils cost my family a weeks worth of pay. How is that small? What if their children starve because of me?”
The reality of the situation became crystal clear for Berry at that moment, and she too began to look to the side of the road and see, truly see, the grim reality these griffons faced everyday. The volunteer guide couldn’t help but overhear their conversation and felt that he needed to say something. The only problem was, he couldn’t think of anything to say to make it better and contented himself to walking in an awkward silence. After a time, he looked back and could see Berry trying to comfort him while he began to shed a few tears.
A feeling, or a voice, something made itself known to the volunteer guide and he let the words flow from his mind.
“You know, Jigsaw... sometimes we can hurt the ones we were trying to help. It is important to remember that each individual has power, no matter how small it may seem, and it is important to use that power in the right time and place. If you can learn that from your time here, than Equestria will be a better place because of it.”