The cave was dark, and it smelled like fish. Rainbow Dash hovered at the entrance. "Hello?"
No answer.
Frowning, she set down on the ledge outside. "Anybody home?" she called, louder this time. There was still no answer.
Her brow creased. Dash was determined to see this through. Her audition had gone swimmingly, but this was her final test, assigned by Spitfire herself. If she flubbed this, there were dozens of other candidates for the Wonderbolts' benchwarmer slot.
Across the threshold carefully. Clip-clop down the passageway. She walked deeper into the cave. The smell got worse. The passageway turned a little bit, and she couldn't see anything.
"I'm not trying to startle anyone," she called softly, then stopped. Was that a glint of light?
Talons grasped her throat.
Dash stopped, cold sweat trickling down between her wings. She felt another clawed hand running across her port wing, claws not tearing, simply making their presence known.
A voice rasped, "What do you want?"
"G-gilda?" whispered Dash, keenly aware of the points of the talons on her windpipe and the hot fish-breath in her face.
"Dash?" said the griffon. The pressure slackened a bit.
Now that her eyes were adjusted, Dash could see the glint of Gilda's eyes in the darkness, and the gleam of her sharp beak. Funny, in all the time they'd been buds, she hadn't once realized how many pointy parts her friend had. "Yeah, it's me."
The talons, though loose, still kept Dash locked in place with their iron strength. "You mind telling me why you're here?"
Dash assumed a nonchalant tone. "I scored front row tickets to the Wonderbolts show in Cloudsdale. I figured I'd say I was sorry, and ekk-"
The talons tightened. Gilda didn't say anything.
Dash felt lightheaded; she kicked at the dirt and flapped her wings; little green spots flashed in the darkness, they were filling her vision. She was a flier; she knew an approaching blackout when she felt it, even in the dark.
Then, the talons released. Dash fell to the ground in a pile of splayed limbs. She gasped for air, and the spots resolved themselves into the darkness of the cave once more. "Just joshing ya, Dash," said Gilda. "I figured you'd apologize sometime, right?"
"Heh, yeah," said Dash, picking herself up. She was still shaking from the adrenaline. "C'mon. The tickets are outside."
She walked back toward the cave entrance, not daring to move faster than she needed to. She couldn't hear anything behind her.
She emerged into bright daylight, and squinted as she turned around. Gilda looked the same as ever, that same cocksure grin on her face. "So, you have tickets out here or somethin'?"
Dash nodded to the rock in front of the cave. "There they are. All yours. I need to clear the air. I can't afford to have you mad at me..."
She struggled for words, then sighed. "I miss racing, and I miss you. But I want you to know that I don't care if you don't like my other friends. You don't have to hang with them if you don't want."
Gilda put her hands up. "Hey, if you want to hang out with dweebs, that's your business. Just do it away from me." She stopped, then squinted at Dash. "This isn't another dumb prank, is it?"
"No, why?"
Gilda knew Rainbow Dash couldn't tell a lie; her voice was just too honest. She was telling the truth. "Just checking. Seeya at the show." She grabbed one ticket and ducked back into the cave.
---
The Cloudiseum glistened in the morning sunlight. It was a perfect day for an airshow.
Spitfire pulled on her mask and goggles. "One thing we can't afford in our line of work is enemies. Unfinished business can kill at any speed. You did good, kid. Real good. Now go sit with your friend. First practice is Sunday afternoon, Canterlot parade grounds."
Far up in the stands, Gilda heard somepony screaming in joy at the top of her lungs. It sounded like Dash, who had gone to get snacks. "Weird," she muttered.