//------------------------------// // Prompt #498: Not With Ten Thousand Griffons // Story: Ponywatching // by ThunderTempest //------------------------------// The first warning was the clouds in the distance. They were far too regular to be anything but a warning. They weren’t dark, or imposing, they were just there. They stretched from horizon to horizon, and they didn’t drift, nor did they move. Underneath them, our scouts reported a light shower of rain, and above and behind them, pegasi circled, waiting. Daring us to cross the line in the sky. It was a clear statement; behind that line lay Equestrian airspace. Behind that line lay our goal, and all the hunting ground we could ever need. The second warning came on our outpost’s 100th day. The clouds, previously a single layer, had expanded, seemingly overnight, to an imposing wall. Underneath, the rain had intensified to almost sleet. The wall had thickened, too, and now we couldn’t put a single claw outside without it coming back wet. But yet, like the proud warriors we were, we laughed at the pegasi’s feeble attempts to drive us off and keep us out. We were fools, though we did not know it. Day two hundred brought what would be the third, and final warning. The wall, already substantially thick, darkened. It went from medium gray to black, and even during the daytime, we could not see the sun. The rain continued to drown our bodies and our souls and spirits. Many of us were wondering if the lands beyond were truly worth it by this point. Our captain assured us that once we showed the ponies our might, that once our findings lead the great army to victory, we would be honoured as rightful heroes. The ponies do not wage war as we griffons do. They do not fight out in the open if they can avoid it. They prefer negotiation, diplomacy and peaceful methods to achieve their victory, for they are physically weak and squishy. But, do not be fooled, for beneath that peaceful mask is a core of iron and a body of steel. After nearly two years, we challenged the pegasi who had tormented us with the clouds and the rain. This was our first mistake. In their storm, they had the advantage. The winds and the rains and the very forces of nature itself bent to their every whim, assisting their every strike while at the same time denying ours. When we fled the storm, heading upwards in the hopes that they could not defend against a proper aerial strike, we made our second mistake. For all their physical weakness, the ponies, when they do engage in outright warfare, have mastered tactics to a degree that few griffons have. Underneath us, the pegasi coordinated and regrouped, and then they used their power and created a tornado as we dived. We were disoriented, scattered and confused, thrown by the whorl of winds and rain. As we searched for each other in the rain, our feathers plastered against our water-logged bodies, we grew tired. Tired from having to carry the weight of all the rain we had absorbed around, and one by one, we fell from the sky, our pegasi aggressors simply letting us tire ourselves out and fall to the unforgiving ground below. This was our third mistake. We assumed that because the ponies were peaceful, that they would endeavour to save lives. The few of us that managed to retreat far enough away from the immense storm and managed to dry out were pursued by black clouds for days, until we were well away from Equestria. My lord, Equestria is not worth the risk. We were rained on for five hundred days, and then a platoon of our best scouts was disposed of in what I can only assume was a perfectly planned operation. Not with the entire legions of the Griffon army at my back would I go back to Equestria.