Onto the Pony Planet: Side Stories
Fluttershy Gets Meat
Admiral Biscuit
This takes place right after Chapter 6
“It would be better if you go,” Lyra said quietly.
“I only want to help him,” Fluttershy insisted, tears welling at the corners of her eyes.
“I know. But he's upset.” She turned her ears towards the bathroom down the hall. “He's sick—the woodchuck made him sick. It's making me queasy.”
“You're right.” Fluttershy's ears drooped further. She grabbed the dead woodchuck of the table and put it back in her bags, then trudged off in the hall, her head hung low.
She couldn't figure out where she'd gone wrong. The grubs—he looked kind of like an ape, and they sometimes ate grubs. Even Harry would, when food was scarce. It might not have been the best food choice, but surely if he were hungry?
To say nothing of the carrion. Both Lyra and Twilight had been certain he was a carrion-eater. Mr. Buzzard had found it and led her to it. Picking it up had been a little bit distasteful, but it wasn't like she'd never had to do that for her animal friends before.
After she’d crossed the bridge near her cottage, she walked a little ways off the path and set the woodchuck down behind a screen of shrubs. It was far enough away from her home that the smell wouldn't upset any of her animals unless the wind shifted unexpectedly, and she could tell Mr. Buzzard where it was. No sense in letting it go to waste.
She listlessly pushed her front door open and stopped in her living room, patiently waiting as her animal friends charged up to her and began excitedly chattering.
“He wouldn’t take the food,” she said. “I don't know why he wouldn’t eat.”
A flurry of fresh chatters broke out.
“No, Chip, I appreciate your offer, but he hasn't got the right kind of teeth to eat acorns. Yes, I tried grubs. They were very nice grubs, all fat and juicy. I brought a whole bag.” She pulled it out of her saddlebags; a small flock of robins, red-winged blackbirds, and a nesting cardinal flew over to it eagerly as she unknotted the neck and folded the top of the bag down.
“I don't know what to do.” She absently got out bags of seed and started filling food dishes. “Maybe . . . Lyra was wrong? It could have been a fish sandwich she ate.”
Fluttershy had tried little bits of almost everything her animals ate. Sometimes it was to be polite, sometimes to prove that she was offering food, and sometimes it was unintentional. She knew she'd be able to tell the difference between fish and red meat even with a blindfold on, but would Lyra?
Maybe. The unicorn had trained under a Neighponese maestro, and Fluttershy had seen her down at the lake fishing a couple of times.
She looked down as a fox bumped its head against her leg and gave a short, submissive whine.
“I know, Ms. Fox. I need to find food for him, so he can get better, like you when you broke your jaw.” She brushed the vixen's head with a wingtip. “You were so thin, remember? I had to cook down your food into a broth and—“
Fluttershy's eyes widened. Cook it.
He was no animal. He wore clothes, and Lyra had said he preserved his food in glassy fabric. And he'd had a campfire.
Why else would he have one, if not to cook his food?
Carrion was out. Without the right digestive system, it would just make him very, very sick. But fresh meat would be fine.
“You're so smart, Ms. Fox.” Fluttershy brushed her head again. “Yes, you are.”
Fresh meat. But where to get it? Most of her animal friends were small, as were their prey. Something his size would require a larger quantity of food, maybe as much as a couple of pounds a day. Even if she were to go ask Harry, or a cougar, it would be unfair to take so much of their prey—they needed it to live, after all.
She’d often enough had her raptors bring back some small prey, to feed another sick bird. If enough of them brought back one or two small animals each, she might have enough, although it would have to continue day after day, and the predation would be so severe that her tiniest friends would either leave her in horror, or mob her cottage for safety.
But the griffons—they had a network which distributed meat to their embassies. Gilda had talked about it, no doubt for the shock value, and some of the other pegasi had been disgusted at the concept, but Fluttershy had been fascinated. It was much more complicated than the pony system, because unlike grains, fruits and vegetables, fresh meat didn’t keep very long.
She was sure she was right this time. This was what Dale ate.
Tomorrow, she would fly to Canterlot, and buy some meat from the griffons.
• • •
It took her a while to find it, and even longer to work up the courage to approach the front gate. The embassy was an intimidating building, and if she hadn't been a mare on a mission, she would have turned and fled in the face of the two sentries.
She closed her eyes, and thought of Dale's gaunt face, and Kate's pale skin. Then she boldly marched up to the gate before she could change her mind.
“Um, excuse me?”
One of the griffons looked down at her disdainfully. “What do you want, little pony?”
“I, um, need some of your meat.”
The two guards exchanged a look and then began chuckling.
“Can you handle it?”
“It's not for me.” She looked back at her saddlebags. “I have bits—I can pay for it.”
The guard on the left only chuckled louder.
“It isn't funny.” Fluttershy stomped her hoof. “There are two sick creatures in the Ponyville hospital who might die if they don't get fresh meat.”
“This isn't a store,” the guard on the left said. “It's—“ He clamped his beak shut as his counterpart held up a talon.
“Hold on. You have injured griffons in your hospital? Why haven't I heard anything? Why hasn't the embassy been informed?” He moved forward, his talon tightening around his halberd.
“They're not griffons.” Fluttershy gave him a pleading look as she stepped back. “They're omnivorous alien apes.”
He exchanged a brief glance with his partner, lowered his weapon, and gave Fluttershy a very curious look. “You'd better come with me.”
He led her through the gates and to the main building. Fluttershy quailed as they passed by another cluster of guards and into the spacious atrium.
He paused outside a plain door. “Listen to me carefully, little pony. I'm going to take you to Commander Lleó Àguila. Your only hope of getting what you need is to tell him everything, do you understand?”
Fluttershy nodded meekly.
“Good.” He knocked three times, paused, then knocked twice more, before opening the door.
The room they entered was some kind of office. Two young griffons were sitting at a desk on one side of the room, while a griffoness was busying herself sorting papers in a tall wooden cabinet, which stood between a pair of doors leading further into the embassy. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a fourth griffon, his talon curled around a halberd, standing just behind the door.
Four pairs of eyes locked onto her, and she shrank away, moving closer to her escort.
He paid them no heed, but crossed the room in an efficient stride, opening the door to the left of the cabinet. He motioned for her to enter with a short head-bob.
She timidly stepped through, getting her first look at the griffon sitting at the big, polished desk. He had scars in his coat, and missing feathers on his head. An eyepatch covered his right eye.
He gave her a bemused look.
“Tell me why you are here.” His voice belied his appearance. It was quiet and almost melodic, not at all what she expected from a creature who towered over her. Gilda had been forceful and rude; he seemed amiable, even if his appearance was a bit unsettling.
“Oh, um, well, we have a pair of injured alien apes at the Ponyville hospital, and they're omnivores.”
“Alien apes?”
Fluttershy nodded eagerly.
“What are they like? Describe them for me, please.”
“Um . . . well, they're tall—about as tall as Princess Celestia, they walk upright like a minotaur, but they're not as broad-shouldered. They have manes, but no tails, wear clothes, and have a civilization on a distant planet.”
“How did you ponies come by them?”
“I'm not entirely sure,” Fluttershy said. Twilight had only filled her in on a few pertinent details, and she didn't want to bother the griffon with trivialities. “But they accidentally wound up in the Ponyville reservoir, badly hurt. They're in the hospital now, but it's the talk of the town that soon they'll have an embassy of their own in Ponyville. I heard that at the market.
“I tried to bring them some carrion, but it made him sick. I didn't offer any to the mare—the female.”
Commander Àguila raised his eyebrows. “You have a breeding pair?” he asked incredulously.
Fluttershy's cheeks reddened. “Um, well, I don't know if that's the plan.”
“What makes you think they even eat meat, then?” Àguila looked at her curiously. “A hungry griffon would probably eat carrion, if it was fresh. Not like you ponies.”
“Really?”
“Sometimes there just isn't enough prey.” He tapped a talon on the desk. “Though it's not an ideal choice.”
“A lot of my animal friends will do the same,” Fluttershy said reassuringly. “It's nothing to be ashamed of. But it made him sick! He was vomiting!”
“Maybe you're wrong. Maybe he doesn't eat meat.”
“Lyra says he does. She shared a sandwich with him at his home before he came here. If the meat were cooked, I think he could eat it.”
Commander Àguila opened his beak and closed it again, then tapped on the desk with his talon thoughtfully. Finally, he spoke.
“I think we can help you. Yes. I can have the chef give you some meat, and ice to preserve it. It has to be kept cold, you know, or it spoils.”
Fluttershy nodded.
“I can also give you a book on how to prepare meat. It's in Equus; sometimes we don’t bring our chef to diplomatic functions.”
“That would be helpful,” Fluttershy told him. “I’ve only ever prepared it for my animal friends, and they’re not too picky. Except for Angel.” She sighed. “I wouldn’t want to offend them with poorly-prepared meals.”
“Wait right here,” he instructed. He stepped around the desk and went through the door. Fluttershy noticed he slightly favored his right hindleg, and felt a pang of sympathy for the poor griffon. Sometimes it was hard to be a predator—animals were clever, and fought back. A lot of ponies found it hard to believe that some of her sparrows would harass hawks whenever they saw them, although she didn’t allow any of that in her cottage. It was a place of refuge for all animals.
Àguila limped past her and back to his desk. “That’s taken care of,” he told her. “A griffon will be here shortly with plenty of fresh meat for your sick apes.”
“Thank you so much.” Fluttershy smiled at him. I’m such a silly goose. All along I’ve been afraid of nothing. “Um, have you tried a teaspoon of molasses every day? For your leg?”
“My leg?”
She nodded. “I saw you limping. Sometimes molasses helps with stiff muscles. You can mix it with something, if you don’t like the taste.”
“I will consider it. Can you tell me more about these apes? What else do you know?”
• • •
Despite the weight in her saddlebags, she had a happy lilt in her step as she left the embassy behind. She’d gotten enough to feed them for a week, and Lleó Àguila had promised to send her two more shipments via the Friendship Express. He was unwilling to offer any more, unless there were a formal request from the Crown. But she was sure she could persuade him if they ran short before a deal were reached. He was such a nice griffon.
She would have preferred securing a long-term supply—if they really were making an embassy, then they were expecting Dale and Kate to stay around for a while. Still, three weeks would certainly be long enough for them to have healed, and surely Princess Celestia was negotiating with Dale’s tribe to get supplies.
And, on the slight chance that she was wrong again, she could give it to some of her animal friends, as a special treat.
The griffons were quite generous, she thought as she soared off the side of the mountain and banked towards Ponyville. And quite curious. I never thought that they were that interested in land-bound creatures, except as prey.
As soon as the yellow pegasus was escorted out of his office, Commander Àguila sprang into action.
His first act was to write out a contact report. Protocol demanded that every time an agent was approached, he document it. This would be the first he’d done since his forced retirement from the field, and while he’d always hated them, he was glad the gate sentry had had the presence of mind to bring the pegasus to him. A more junior griffon would have probably unintentionally intimidated her into silence, but his deceptively gentle voice and easy questioning had won her over.
After that was done, he scribbled out a quick note on thin rice paper. They imported it at great expense—nominally to use in the kitchen, but half of it was diverted to the espionage division. Once the message was encoded, the rice paper would simply be eaten, and no evidence of the message would be left behind.
He rolled up the note and limped to his door.
“You,” he ordered, pointing to his coder. “Transcribe this message for the telegraph. Append it to every telegram we send today—it’s urgent. The rest of you, come into my office.”
“I want to know what’s going on in Ponyville,” he said, as soon as the pair of agents were in his office with the door closed behind them. “We already got a memo about troop movement; the first major deployment there since Princess Celestia’s protege became librarian. We wrote it off as an exercise, but I have just recently come to learn that two alien apes have arrived, and no doubt the guards were deployed in anticipation of their arrival.
“There has been no word from the Crown on this. I want both of you to make contact with your spies as quickly as you can, and find out what’s going on. Leave no stone unturned, and leave nothing out of your report. If we do this right, we can get a jump on other nations, and we can give the ambassador a bargaining chip to use against the Princess. Screw it up, and I’ll see your heads on pikes outside the Eyrie. Have you got it?”
They both nodded.
“Then what are you waiting for? Get out there!”
Commander Àguila leaned back, a small self-satisfied glint in his good eye. They were good agents; by the end of the day, he’d know everything anypony in Canterlot knew.
He stretched out his leg and flexed his paw. “Molasses,” he said to the empty room. “I wonder if the kitchen has any?”