//------------------------------//
// II - Instinct 
// Story: Aethia 
// by Malckeor 
//------------------------------//

	A spring wind traveled through the aged griffon's orange feathers to balance the sun's heat. Decayed wooden structures rested a short way west across the plains, silent with the exception of an occasional settling creak. Further beyond towered the notorious mountains that would soon be casting a dark shadow over the buildings.
Breeg had settled down in the little town of Peak's Pass just short of three months before. At day's first light, most of the locals would fly off in search of game, leaving the town deserted until that Princess of the Night worked her magic from across the sea. It was then that they'd returned to barter their kills; Breeg had enjoyed peeking in at this process on some evenings to re-live part of his younger days. It was peaceful enough, but every few weeks a young hunter or two would run their mead-stained beaks about wanting to follow in the paw prints of some big-shot named Swooping Stan, going on and on about his status as 'Linone's Chosen.' They'd then get a pack together and soar off towards the mountains in spite of the warning cries, never to be seen again. Most agreed that these inexperienced packs fell to the chimeras that had earned the late Linone her fame, the slopes' most notorious beasts, but others spouted wilder theories, and some even went to that Swooping Stan himself seeking confirmation.
Breeg himself hated watching as so many young hunters flew off to their deaths, even after he'd lent his own words of caution. For the sake of peace of mind, he'd never partaken in the town's theorizing, nor had he bothered to dig any deeper as to Stan's apparent knowledge of the peaks; Breeg had never even seen the famed hunter with his own eyes.
The agitated griffon shook clear of his rampant thoughts, focusing on the soft grass beneath his paws. A quiet walk on the plains wasn't regular for Breeg. Something had felt amiss that day, and he couldn't put a claw on the source.
Could that huge pack have been the culprit? That pack Breeg had spotted in the distance soaring towards the mountains hours before? If that was where they were headed, he'd known they were likely dead by now, though their numbers seemed much larger than the typical reckless rag-tag bunch. He'd known for a fact that it wasn't her echoing, ferocious, despairing shrieks as he'd stepped through the doorway without looking back; his mind hadn't put that to rest in the weeks since his departure, and he'd refused to believe it would affect him any more than it already had.
Regardless of that pack's higher numbers, it was typical of the aged griffon's life in Peak's Pass. Various others flew by all the time, and Breeg had been told by a local acquaintance that the mountains were rarely ever their destination, although it always seemed it.
Breeg scratched through his orange feathers with a sigh. "I don't know why I bother," he said under his breath, scanning eastward across the fields. He turned towards the silent town, shielding his eyes from the intense sun that was starting to dip behind the peaks. "I could use a drink."






































"Oh, thank goodness," Doug said, relieved at the feeling of grass under his hooves. "I really thought we were done for."
The three ponies took solace in the soft breeze that whistled on the slopes above. A late sunlight blanketed the surrounding peaks, casting shadows through the trees onto the green clearing just outside the makeshift tunnel. Emerald's eyes fell upon the sculpted memorial near the tree line for Linone, The Scorched Huntress, who'd saved the local denizens by slaying the largest fire-breathing chimera known to griffons just over a century before. The ponies had made camp under the huntress' sculpted gaze hours before descending.
Dazzle was thrashing around in the grass like a cockatrice that had lost its head. "There was so much! If we had more time, maybe I could have found something important to the featherbrained morons and made some quick bits here and now!"
"Or we could have been food for a couple of hungry whelps," Emerald said, wiping sweat from her brow as the unicorn rose to his hooves. "Relax. We grabbed what we could. Now..."
A piercing screech made her crouch down and drop the bags. "Wh-what the hell?!" She shot glances up above as it echoed off the ridges. More sounded as the first faded, continuing in a pattern.
"What's going on?" Doug asked, covering his ears. "More dragons?"
"I don't think so!" Emerald replied above the screeching. "It sounds more like-"
"Took you three long enough!" yelled a voice from above as the sound came to a stop. He landed between Emerald and the leveled-out tunnel, his leather vest scrunching with the impact. A blade was holstered just beneath his left wing.
"Swooping Stan?" asked Emerald, stepping back with the bags in hoof.
"That's my name!" he said. "You guys were sure in there a while! How'd it go?"
Emerald ignored his question and peered around, catching Linone's memorial in her peripheral vision once again. "What are you doing here? What's going on?"
"Oh, I'm just out on a bit of business," said Stan. "A hunt, you could say. Emerald, when you were inquiring about these grounds of mine, I couldn't stop marveling at you and your associates' determination, especially the loud-mouthed one with the horn right here; he's got a rumbling, passionate hunger for stuff that I've never seen or heard anyone else exhibit on such a scale before." He shook his head at Dazzle. "I just had to stop by to see how you three ponies were doing. It's not every day that the stars align in such a way for me!"
Emerald shared a glance with Dazzle. "That's...nice of you, I guess, but how did you know exactly where we were?"
Stan removed his leather helmet and scratched across a scar where his dark feathers were absent. "Well, when a renowned predator is pursuing his prey, it's only logical that he finds them at some point. Wouldn't you agree?"
Doug tilted his head. "Your prey?"
Emerald gasped with a reach towards her crossbow. "Ah ah ah." Swooping Stan wiggled one of his claws. "I wouldn't do that in your position. And I'd think twice about using that horn of yours, magic-boy."
Emerald's breath caught in her throat, and she allowed herself a glimpse back towards the uphill trees. A dozen other griffons had appeared, some hovering above with their own crossbows primed forward. Others were grounded with wing-blades, axes and spiked mauls at the ready. Dazzle turned to whisper in Emerald's ear, "What'd I tell you?"
"This here's my flock," Stan said. "Or 'pack' depending on which you prefer. Now by the looks of it, you three have nabbed quite the collection from those slumbering beauties down below. If you have any amount of sense left over from your little descent, you'll hoof it over and we'll each go our separate ways. It's that simple."
"Huh?" Emerald said, her heart beginning to pound with rage. "Just like that? Do we really have a choice? What if we head to the capital and...I don't know, tell everyone of your thievery here? This gold won't do you crooked schmucks any good in prison."
"Emerald, what are you doing?!" Dazzle whispered.
"Wow, we've pushed a button. You're a feisty one behind those pretty eyes, aren't you Emerald?" Stan laughed. "You wound us! We may be hunters at heart, but we're not the type of griffons to kill ponies or any sophisticated life on a whim like that; our trigger claws only itch for true game. We're just looking to make a couple extra bits, and dragon treasure always sells well." He placed the helmet back over his beak and adjusted it. "And you're a quick one to judge! Who do you think the higher-ups will listen to? A renowned pack who have made themselves known in the region, or a rag-tag bunch of ponies consisting of a racist, a failure, and an orphaned pegasus who's pocketed a shady history over the years?"
Emerald tried to re-compose herself as the memories rushed back. "Oh, don't look so upset," Stan said, noticing a break. "If anything, you should be happy! You were close to making it big today despite your failure in the end. That's life for you, isn't it? You've just gotta keep trying!" He reached out with brown claws. "Now, our loot."
She glimpsed at her companions, and Doug gave her a nod. With a sigh, Emerald Dream tossed Dazzle's gigantic bag to Swooping Stan, the treasure clinking as he caught it in his talons. "Hmm. Not quite as much as I thought, but it'll fetch a nice price regardless." He bowed to the three ponies. "I'm glad we could come to..." His voice trailed off, and he shared looks with other members of his pack as the ground began to rumble.
"Oh Celestia, not again," Doug said.
Stan took another glimpse at his underwhelming prize. "What the hell did you idiots do?"
Dazzle scratched the back of his neck. "Well..."
"It's getting louder," a grounded female griffon said. "Sir -"
"AAAAAAAAUUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Swooping Stan loosed a scream as he was flung into the air. A drake almost the size of an ursa minor erupted from beneath, sending grass and rocks flying with a deafening roar. The famed hunter couldn't recover in time and was caught in the beast's jaws, his screams fading as it flailed him around. Emerald helped up a grounded Doug before the three of them took advantage of the chaos, turning tail and galloping through the griffons as they regained themselves.
"It's a terra drake!" the same female griffon yelled. "Stay strong! Take it down!" The pack moved into a practiced formation. Two soared forward with blades drawn to rescue their leader, but they were swatted out of the air by rock-touched claws. Stan drew a parting gurgle as the beast crunched through his vest and swallowed, landing to devour the gem-filled bag with no care for the blades and bolts bouncing off its brown hide.
Dazzle tried to double back. "No! My statuette! My gold!" he yelled. Emerald and Doug held him in place.
"It's done for, Dazzle! This whole thing was a bust from the start! We need to get out of-" A second smaller drake emerged behind them, shaking the ground with its entrance as Emerald shielded her eyes.
"Another? Really?! How much worse can this job get?" Dazzle raged.
"Duck!" Emerald yelled, pulling the two others to the ground as the drake raised one of its forelegs. Their backs were hit with excess pebbles from claws that missed them by an inch.
"Get dazzled!" Dazzleflash shouted, jumping up and letting loose a bright wave of orange. Emerald and Doug covered their eyes. The blinded drake stomped back with a swipe of its earth-trimmed tail, timbering a tree and reducing Linone's memorial to rubble.
"Down the hill! Run!" Emerald yelled over the distant crossbow shots. "Watch the tail!"
"You don't have to tell me twice!" Dazzle replied as the three ponies began their gallop down the mountain.
The drake shook free of Dazzle's spell, its vision settling on the distant pack. It let loose a roar and charged forward to aid its draconic companion.





















"Just keep running..." Dazzle spoke under his breath. "Just keep running...don't look back...just keep running...don't look back..."
"He used us!" Doug yelled, breaking the others out of their shock.
"You don't say?!" Dazzle panted and almost lost his balance on the slope.
"Th-there's no way we were the first," Emerald stated. "I've seen several others go to Stan for advice. D-do you think he ever went after other griffons?"
Dazzle let out a breath. "Well, we know for a fact that the moron was bad even in featherbrained terms. I don't think it's out of the question."
"Yeah," Doug chimed in. "I got the impression that he was practiced."
"Not enough, apparently," Dazzle said with a laugh. "Did you see his vest cave in beneath those teeth? What a sight..."
Emerald chuckled. "It sure was something," she said, agreeing with the unicorn for once.
A distant roar sounded from up the mountain, and the ponies broke into a quicker trot. "Wait a minute. Is that...?"
"What?" Dazzle asked.
Emerald squinted towards the distant plains in the mountain's growing shadow. "That's a town, straight ahead."
"So?"
She slid to a stop as another roar echoed. Smoke rose from behind the trees. "We have to warn them."
"What? Why?!" Dazzle pounded a hoof in the grass after coming to a stop himself. "Were you asleep back there? They almost killed us!"
"That wasn't them, Dazzle," Emerald said, gesturing towards the distant buildings.
"Well, whatever! I don't have time for this! It's been a nice and eventful couple of days, thanks for inviting us and all that, but I want to go home. I can find a way to score back in Equestria." He pouted. "Even if the princesses have their stupid dragon equality law. I swear, they're out to get me..."
"Hmm." Emerald's lips curved up in a sly smile. "You know, I'm sure whoever's living down there would be able to scrounge some stuff up for you-us, as a reward for saving their lives from a hungry bunch of drakes. It's worth a shot, don't you think?"
Doug slid a hoof in the grass. "Might as well," he agreed.
Dazzle had a hoof on his chin. "Well, when you put it that way...I am indeed a fan of stuff, and I'd like to walk away from this with something to show for it." He nodded. "Alright, we'll go with you. Just a minor little detour for riches. It's not like this day can get any worse."