Day seven.
The morning's newspaper headline: Protests Grow Violent in Griffin Kingdom
Among the cafeteria tables, Billy got close to Chielo. “So, bird, who are you eating?”
The griffin parsed the question. “Fish.” He opened the half-eaten sandwich, showing the scales, bones, and head of the trout that Tondro, his father, caught for him yesterday. “Who are --”
All conversation stopped. Billy's blue eyes grew wide. The chocolate pegasus looked as if he were going to vomit the hay fries he had eaten. He backed away from Chielo, terrified. Only when he was too far to be attacked did Billy turn around, spread his wings, and fly as fast as he could. Every other pegasus followed Billy, running or flying away from Chielo. The griffin was alone among the spilled lunches and overturned tables.
Day zero.
The morning's newspaper headline: Political Shakeup in Griffin Kingdom.
Stelara, Tondro, and Chielo arrived in Cloudsdale from the Griffin Kingdom. All three carried both full and heavy packs and full and heavy hearts. At the town gate, Honeysuckle, a peach-colored pegasus with lightning bolts on her rump, met them and led them through the town.
“Oh, you'll so love the neighborhood,” she started talking to Stelara. “There's a good school just two blocks away, and a vegetable market just half a block away.”
Chielo looked down on the city, his new home. It seemed to have as little structure as the clouds that it was made of. He watched pegasi land and take off from building roofs. Chielo's mind snapped back to Stelara's voice when he almost heard his name. “There's plenty of foals for Jello ---”
The young griffin interrupted, “My name is Chielo.”
“-- to get to know, and you're just a short hop from the weather-making factory.” Honeysuckle missed or ignored Chielo's outburst. “The roof has a great landing---err, ignore that, and here you are!” She landed next to a musty, very large door on the ground level, pulled a set of keys from her pack and with her mouth unlocked the door. She stood aside to let the three in.
<< Pro kio eniras nin tra fundon? >> asked Tondro.
“I'm sorry,” explained Stelara as she accepted the slobber-covered keys in her talons. “My husband doesn't speak Common. He's wondering why we're coming in this way, rather than through the roof like the rest of the residents?”
“Oh,” Honeysuckle blushed a bit. “I think it's for your convenience. So that you don't... you know... scare the other renters every time you leave and come back. You can ask the super whether you may use the launching and landing pads!”
The inside of the apartment was as musty and unused as the outside door. In the entrance room, a secondhand couch curved around a wooden table whose fourth leg was supported by a book. Soot covered the ground and ceiling around the fireplace. Several kitchen cabinets had no doors, and the open, empty icebox had suspicious, green stains. The inside door to the common areas (and access to the roof) was as unused as the outside door. When they climbed to the second story, they saw two bedrooms, each with lumpy, stripped beds and mismatched curtains.
“I'm sure that you're grateful that we could find you a place. Not many apartments accept... ahhhh....” Honeysuckle backed up a bit. “I had a hard time finding a place for you.”
“I'm sure that it will be lovely with a little work,” said Stelara diplomatically.
When Honeysuckle left, Stelara sent Chielo to purchase brooms, buckets, towels, sheets, and cleaning supplies. Stelara sent Tondro down to the forest to gather dinner, firewood, and other necessities. Chielo returned with a hoof-broom and a long stick about the width of a pony's leg to attach the broom to. Stelara and Chielo spent the afternoon sweeping, wiping, disinfecting, and otherwise cleaning the place.
When Tondro returned, his wife and son were tearing up sheets to make nesting material. He had brought pine branches with soft, young needles, as well as hard wood for the fireplace, chestnuts, and a dozen plump mice for dinner. They started the fire, speared the mice on small stakes, and roasted them over the flames, then baked the chestnuts among the burning wood.
<<Papa,>> said Chielo as the family ate. <<I miss our farm.>>
<<Me, too, son. Me, too.>>
They carried the fragrant pine needles and strips of cloth upstairs, sculpted nests on the lumpy beds, and fell asleep.
Day one.
The morning's newspaper headline: Prime Minister Estro of Griffin Kingdom Promises Political Stability
A loud knock came on the inside door. Stelara pulled hard on the rarely-used door to reveal a lavender mare unicorn. Her cutie mark was covered by a finely woven blanket with Celestia's sun. “Uhmmm... LEONKORO Stelara?” she read from the dossier. Chielo overheard the conversation from his bedroom.
“Yes?” replied Stelara mildly.
“I'm Twilight Sparkle, secretary to Princess Celestia. Celestia sends her regards to you, LEONKORO Stelara, and she hopes you're...” She sniffed the air. “Leonkoro, what IS that awful smell? May I come in?”
“If you're smelling cooked meat, I fear that was last night's supper--”
“No, no, no---” Twilight's lips pulled back in distaste as she smelled the air, walking around the common room. Stelara blushed as she saw more soot had reached the ground around the fireplace. Twilight poked her nose into the fireplace and looked up the flue. “There's no guard from other fireplaces. All the ash dumps land here.” With her wing she pointed to a corner of the ceiling. “That trap door was recently nailed shut... May I go upstairs?”
Stelara blushed but said yes. Twilight went into Chielo's room, and pointed again to the ceiling. “There's another trap door.” With one hoof, she tapped on the wall between the two bedrooms. “This wall was just put in, and the scent is stronger here...” She shook her head. “Leonkoro, I think that they put you up in the former garbage room. Can we go outside? The stench bothers me.”
Day two.
The morning's newspaper headline: Griffin Kingdom National Guard Called To Assist Police
As promised, Chielo's school was a short flight of two blocks away. He landed on the school's roof, then glided down the stairs to the main office. He handed a folder to the first secretary that he saw.
“Ah, LEONKORO Chielo? Welcome to Wind Whistler Middle School, Leonkoro,” the while stallion pegasus said. “You'll be with the green class, Leonkoro--”
“--- That's not my name,” Chielo interrupted.
“I beg your pardon?” The stallion looked confused.
“I mean, it is my name, but it's not my personal name. Leonkoro is my family name and Chielo is my personal name. We capitalize our family names.”
“Oh. We've already set up all of your records the other way. You don't mind, do you Leo-- I mean Cello?”
“I'm not a musical instrument. My name is Chielo. Two vowels in the middle.”
He tried the unfamiliar name. “Chee-elo, go downstairs two flights, then enter the green door for your class.”
Chielo glided down the stairs, occasionally grabbing a pole in his left talon to make quick turns. The hallways were almost empty of students or teachers. He walked past a group of much younger students past an orange door, and entered a green door with pegasi about his age.
A blue stallion pegasus with black stripes on his legs looked up from teaching as Chielo entered. “Welcome, Leonkoro.” Chielo sighed.
Day five.
The morning's newspaper headline: Prime Minister Estro gives more concessions to Regnist Bloc.
A dark brown stallion with a cream-colored mane blocked Chielo's exit. “Hey, bird. I'm Billy, and I'm learning a little of your language. Is <<fiku vin>> good Griffin?” Three pesasi around Billy laughed.
Chielo stared at Billy. “Screw you, too.”
Billy stared back. So did his three friends. “Listen, blank flank. You will never be accepted here no matter what you do. Wanna know why? Because you'll never get one of these,” he said, pointing to the dumbbell on his flank. “So why don't you just fly back to where you came from?”
The bell for the start of class rang. With mocking laughter, Billy and his friends walked past Chielo, shoving him. When they had left, in a small voice that no one else could hear, Chielo whispered, “We can't.”
Evening seven.
“The Princess must prepare for an influx of refugees. There's plenty of open space in the north of Equestria. We would mostly need fresh water and the right to forage for food --”
When Chielo entered the aired-out apartment, Stelara was deep in conversation with Twilight. He was almost in tears as he hugged his mother.
“Mom... the ponies saw what I had for lunch... and they all ran away!”
Stelara wrapped her arms around her son. “Oh, hon. I'm sorry.”
“I--- I don't want to eat fish any more. Or mice. I want to eat like the Equestrians, mom.”
Stelara blushed deeply, but Twilight's eyes lit up. “I know a vegetable stand nearby! They have apples from Sweet Apple Acres, and spinach and broccoli and cauliflower and oats. Let me buy your first meal, Chielo.”
Chielo's eyes lit to match Raindrop's eyes. “Pleeeeeeease, mom?”
Stelara closed her eyes and counted to ten. Finally, she said, “I won't stop you.”
Early morning eight, morning eight, late morning eight, and early afternoon eight.
Chielo's repeated and violent diarrhea quickly ended his experiment with veganism.
His mother had left a book in the bathroom: a dictionary, turned to the phrase 'obligate carnivore'. One or two pieces of fruit or vegetables were okay for griffins. A meal of them was not okay.
Day ten.
The morning's newspaper headline: Protesters block roads between Griffin Kingdom and Equestria
Cyan Skies leaned against a tree as she listened to Chielo.
“...and my dad had this huge ranch! Even at my top speed, it took 15 minutes to fly the whole boundary. On the hill in the middle, you'd see the prettiest sunsets---”
Cyan jumped. Chielo stopped talking. The two saw it at the same time: a gray mouse with constantly-twitching whiskers had brushed against Cyan's leg.
More quickly than she could see, Chielo had grabbed the mouse off the ground and held it in his handpaw.
“Don't do it! Just don't.” Cyan hissed.
“Don't do what?” he said as he petted the mouse using a cast-off feather. The mouse relaxed in his hand.
“Don't eat it.”
The mouse sat on its haunches, licked its paws, then rubbed its paws against its ears, eyes, and nose.
“I'm not hungry. And I like mice.”
The mouse sneezed twice, then curled itself into a ball. It fell asleep.
“But you... you eat mice!”
He nodded. He felt very slow, and he tried hard to understand her point.
She asked, “How could you eat someone that you like?”
He looked even more confused. “How could you eat something that you hate?”
Day Twelve.
The morning's newspaper headline: Revolution in Griffin Kingdom