Creature: Rainbow Dash
She was a thing, an it, a something else. That’s what attracted Dash to her in the first place; she’d always been a sucker for the underdog. Not that Gilda had needed any back up, oh no, as a matter of fact after Dash had stood up for her the first time she was rewarded with a swift punch to the nose. Never being one to take anything laying down Rainbow Dash had turned into the fight with her hooves flying and teeth bared. Later as they both sat outside the coordinator’s office, bags of ice taped to various body parts, she’d been given a high five for “kicking ass dude”.
Maybe that entrance should have tipped her off, but Rainbow had simply been happy to finally make a friend that could not only keep up with her but even knock her back. Gilda was tough; she flew hard, didn’t cry, and never once left Dash hanging. After so many years of wanting a friend she’d gotten a best friend. So what if she was a griffon? So what if griffons are a bit rough on the edges? Gilda swore that she’d never killed another sentient being, although she was very proud of, and more than happy to show off, her ability to hunt. Then again Gilda had promised and swore to a lot of things. Things like never abandoning Dash. And where was she now?
Dash wanted to imagine that Gilda was out in the mountains somewhere, gliding silently over a stream looking for a fish to catch. Or maybe she was relaxing on a cloud preening her feathers and giving an occasional roar to scare the birds. But she was never doing the things that they did together.
There was no late night clubs and fake IDs, no nicked drinks or cigarettes. She wouldn’t steal kabobs from the street vendors or a pair of sunglasses from some chump who wanted to charge double their worth. There were no back alley fights or pick-ups. No, those had all been partner things, nothing fun about them without a best friend there to help pick up the heat or smooth ruffled feathers. There was no best friend to spend a night in jail with, listening to some wind bag try to convert them into perfect little angels who they would mock. No best friend to crash with at the end of a wild night when both would be too exhausted to do more than laugh and then snore the night away. There was no best friend to pick you up when you fell, or push you down when you needed it. Those were all things that were special, special to them as friends, and Dash didn’t want to think that Gilda could do them without her there. Without her best and only friend.
So instead Dash put her in a natural environment with all the creature comforts, but without the joy.