Ponyville's Premier Party Pony walked back to Sugarcube Corner, lost in thought. The pink pony's hooves plodded against the ground at a sedate, almost sluggish pace. Her usually poofy, wild mane was sagging slightly, a single dark-pink lock hanging between her eyes. Baby-blue eyes scanned the road before her, dull and not really seeing what was in front of them.
For the first time in a long time, Pinkie Pie was lost.
Her mind once again drifted back to the last time she had seen her best friends. Applejack and Twilight were constantly at each other's throats, and she could do nothing to stop it. The usually bubbly mare shook the thoughts from her head. Stop thinking like a Saddie-Pie! It's your JOB to make everypony happy, you can't do that when you're down in the dumps.
At least Rainbow Dash had been in a good mood... But she was laughing for the wrong reasons. Pinkie's eyes immediately hardened. I don't care if it WAS a big, scary monkey-man, hurting things for fun is WRONG. Grinding her teeth, Pinkie Pie kicked in the door to the bakery and walked inside. The pudgy pastry pony behind the counter grinned, her frosting-like mane bobbing with her movement.
"Hello, dearie! Have a nice walk?" Cupcake, seeing the downtrodden expression on her pseudo-daughter's face, immediately dropped the smile in favor of a worried frown. "Pinkie...is everything alright?"
Pinkie Pie hardly spared Mrs. Cake a glance before heading up the stairs. "I just want...need to be alone for a bit." Cupcake almost flinched at the dismissal, so far removed from Pinkie's usual demeanor.
"O...Okay then, just...come to me if you need to tal—" The blue mare was cut off by the slamming of Pinkie's door. "...Talk." Cupcake sighed and cast her eyes downward, pity etched into her features.
In her room, Pinkie threw herself on the bed and curled up under the blanket. Burying her muzzle in her forehooves, she shut her eyes and tried to calm herself. It's true some days are dark and lonely...and maybe you feel sad, but Pinkie will be there to show you that it isn't that bad~" Whisper-singing into her forelegs, she recited the well-worn song, that particular line having brought her out of many slumps.
Was anypony there for it when it was lonely? The mare's mutinous mind interjected. Pinkie sighed and sank as low as she could into her mattress.
-----
The sun filtering through my eyelids woke me up, but the hot pain in my arm kept me from drifting back off. Gripping my bad arm to minimize movement, I stiffly sat up and looked at my surroundings. I appeared to be in a small clearing, a pitiful fire puttering out near my feet. The wood was thrown haphazardly, as if whoever put it there had no idea what they were doing.
But how did it get there? My memory of the night prior was hazy at best, completely absent at worst. I vaguely remembered escaping, Gilda hitting me, then...nothing. I sighed and looked for any sign of the griffon.
Nothing on the ground.
Nothing in the air.
Nothing in the trees.
I slowly stood, my body protesting the movement, but by now I was well-versed into ignoring it's demands. My right arm hang limply, making my already unsteady walk even more unbalanced, but I'd managed on worse. For the first time since my...rescue, seems a good word...I was thinking clearly. No fever, no ponies acting crazy, no barn...I was back in the woods. Alone.
Familiar territory.
I had just started to walk away when I heard a WHOOSH followed by a hearty thump on the ground. "Where d'ya think YOU'RE going, monkey-boy?"
Oh, fuck me...
I schooled my features and turned around, looking at Gilda with a perfectly calm expression. "I-..."
Where was I going? Part of me wanted to go back to my cave and forget all about this, and part of me was positively screaming to be back in that barn with Applejack. The thought repulsed me—Applejack was beginning to reach "Misery" levels of creepy, and being treated like an animal was not very pleasant—but a faceless, voiceless corner of my mind told me that there is where I would find comfort.
In my thoughts, I didn't notice Gilda sidle up beside me. "You seriously think I'd let you walk away after dragging your heavy ass out here?" She let out a snort, "I busted you out, you're with me until we're even."
I blinked, and looked down at myself. Heavy? It was true, I could hardly see my own ribs through my skin. So much of Applejack's cooking had added quite the pudge. I needed to get rid of it as soon as possible. I sighed and looked up at the sky, unable to look at my own body any more. "...Sorry."
Gilda rolled her eyes and walked back to the remains of the fire to lay down. She pulled a couple squirrels out from under her wing, and immediately tore into one. I looked down just in time to catch the last against my chest.
I could cook this up and finally get some protein in me. It wasn't much, but anything is better than nothing.
But I also needed to lose that layer of softness if I wanted to survive. Fat people don't last in the woods. Looking back up to Gilda, I tossed the morsel back. "No thanks...not hungry." I hope she didn't hear my stomach groan in disappointment from her position. To my relief—and slight disappointment—she didn't argue, simply devouring the second squirrel as quick as the first.
I sat down beside her, wincing as my right arm awkwardly hit my leg. Gilda looked over, her eyes widening. "What the Hel did you do?!" I blinked, before looking at my arm.
I hadn't noticed before, but my shoulder and upper arm were swollen and bruised a dark blue. I hardly had time to process it before I was pushed onto my back, my right wrist gripped tightly by Gilda's talons and one of her feline hind-paws pressing into my side for leverage.
"Wha-YEAAARGH!!!" I shouted, gritting my teeth and clawing at the ground with my free hand. What was this crazy woman doing?! She had forcefully pulled my arm out straight, almost like she was trying to rip it off. I arched my back, feet kicking out at nothing. Already my throat was going raw, and it had only been—
POP
Relief...
I went completely limp once my shoulder popped back into place, Gilda immediately releasing me. I tossed my head back over to look at her, trying to blink the black spots out of my vision.
"Ha...how did..." I blinked again. The black was blotting out everything, until eventually it was all I knew.
-----
For the second time that day, I awoke in that field. Only this time, I wasn't alone. Gilda was watching me with an annoyed expression, tapping her talons on her crossed forelegs. "Have a nice nap, dweeb?"
My expression soured, and I took a breath to retort. "I—"
"Chicks can dislocate their wings during intense flying. I've seen it happen. And they don't scream like you. Or pass out." I winced slightly, but my glare didn't lessen. After a moment, however, I sighed and slumped down.
"How long was I out?" I just wanted to drop it. I didn't know how much more humiliation I could take.
"Twenty minutes. On your feet, we're wasting daylight!" She sounded impatient, so I took my sweet time. Payback's a bitch. Once I finally managed to stand, Gilda started walking. I rushed to keep up.
"Where we headed?" I asked, having to remain close so my hoarse voice could be heard.
Without turning her head, Gilda replied. "Canterlot. I'm leaving you at the outskirts. I'm not gonna set foot in that Helhole."
Now I was confused. "I thought you wanted me to stick with you?" I was somewhat hurt. I thought we'd bonded in the tent, even if we still weren't exactly friendly. "There has to be SOMETHING I can do..."
Gilda turned on me, scowling. "You cry like a chick. You get hurt more than anything I've seen. You whine. You can't fly, and you don't have claws. What, exactly, are you good for?" She turned and continued walking, tail twitching in agitation. "Get out of my feathers, and we're even."
I couldn't move. My mind had simply...stopped. I couldn't even begin to process what I'd heard.
"You coming?"
I shook my head and swallowed the well of shame, managing a quick "yeah" before following. I focused on the sky. The trees. The grass. The wind.
Anything but what I'd just heard.