Gilda took a moment to breathe. She felt oddly nervous, like when she had snuck into her sire’s study; the feeling and memory annoyed her to no end. She stared at the door for a moment, counted to ten, then quickly knocked on the wooden surface.
There was a moment before she heard footsteps, then the door opened. Tara’s eyes widened in surprise as she saw Gilda. “Huh,” she said. “We’re getting a lot of visitors lately.”
Gilda smiled. “I’m not bothering you, am I?”
“No, no,” Tara quickly replied. “Come in.”
The eagless nodded her thanks, and followed the female human through the small antechamber that led to the living room area. First thing Gilda noticed was the smell of coffee permeating the room. The second was the barely audible conversation in the next room. She recognized all of the voices.
“The Corporal is here?” Gilda asked.
Tara nodded. “Raleigh sent him to give Marco a message. I think they are making fun of him.”
Gilda blinked. “Who’s making fun of Marco?”
Tara gave her a knowing smile. “I mean Marco, Chris, and the Corporal are making fun of Raleigh.”
“Oh.”
As they exited the living room, both of them came to a short hallway that led to what Gilda assumed to be two bedrooms and the latrine area. Here, she could clearly hear the conversation and the obvious tone of amusement that it carried.
“Doesn’t he even realize that you guys are busy fighting?” Chris asked.
“I don’t think he finds the Cloven as big of a threat as Flip-Boy here,” came Imlay’s dry response, though Gilda could imagine a wry grin in the Corporal’s face. “In fact, if he was so inclined, I’m pretty sure Mr. Raleigh would want a fireteam to surround Mr. Lakan to make sure he doesn’t start a war with the Griffies.”
“Well,” Marco interjected, “we can’t have that. After all, I don’t think Gryphon has any oil.”
“I’m pretty sure the government can find a reason,” Imlay replied. “After all, the Griffies look like they need some good ol’ fashioned Freedom.”
Apparently, that was a funny joke because Marco and Chris started chortling. Tara didn’t seem to agree, as she rolled her eyes in response. She motioned towards the door, smiling at Gilda, as if saying that that was her cue.
The eagless didn’t disappoint her. Putting on her war face, she immediately announced her presence by opening the door, startling the three occupants, and exclaimed, “What is this about starting another war?!”
Gilda looked inside, satisfied she caught all of them off-guard. All eyes were wide as they saw her, and for a few seconds, no one reacted. She saw Imlay sitting on a couch, one of his hands holding a drinking cup, while the other clutched the side of the couch rather stiffly. Chris was harder to read as he laid in one of the beds, almost unmoving. Only his head seemed to respond to his will, having turned to her, his mouth wide. Marco was there beside him, standing a little straight, one of his hands holding a pot of steaming coffee, and the other a drinking cup.
After a moment, they recovered. Marco was the first, smiling as he poured himself a cup. The claw marks he received in yesterday’s duel were gone, much to her relief. “Well, you know how it is, Gilda. When one civilian beats a soldier in duel to the death, the winning party tends to get ideas.”
“Some duel to the death,” Gilda replied as she made her way inside. Though it looked a bit spartan, it was clean and warm. Climbing on top of the empty bed, she arched her back slightly and pawed the bed gently with her claws before laying on her stomach. “No one died and you could barely stand in the end.”
“Uh, that’s my bed,” Marco said.
Gilda smirked. “So? Are you going to challenge me to a duel to get me off?”
Imlay snickered, an odd sight that caught Gilda off guard, but before she could ask what garnered that kind of reaction, Marco replied with his own smirk.
“Why, Gilda, we don’t need to arrange a duel for that,” he said. “I’m always available to get you off anytime you want.”
The eagless felt her cheeks flush as the full implication of her words hit her. She opened her mouth to protest, to say anything, but she couldn’t. Heat began to build up around her face as she was unsure what to do next. Thankfully, Tara entered and saved her from further embarrassment.
“See, this is why Raleigh is riding your ass,” Tara said. “Your toxic masculinity knows no bounds.”
Chris snorted, while Imlay rolled his eyes, smiling slightly. Marco just grinned back at Tara. “It’s hardly toxic.”
“Oh?” she asked. “Did you not just challenge a griffin to a duel yesterday, beating up a female so badly that she needed medical attention?”
“I think that was shows my strong belief of feminism,” Marco replied without pause. “I gave her an equal opportunity to kick my ass, after all.”
“And now you’re trying your luck with another female, shamelessly I might add.”
Marco took a sip, his smile never leaving his face. “Why, Tara, if you wanted me to try my luck again with you, all you had to do is ask.”
“You have short memory, don’t you?” Tara asked, though she was smiling as well. “How badly did I reject you again?”
“It wasn’t a kick in the balls, so not that bad,” Marco replied with a shrug.
“No kick in the balls means a maybe, right?” Chris interjected.
Marco chuckled, while Tara shook her head, smile widening. “It’s not a yes,” she corrected.
“Then let’s clear the air,” Marco said. He paused for a moment, then gave a rather obviously fake wide smile. His arms did an exaggerated flourish as he went to one knee. What impressed Gilda the most was that he didn’t even spill any of the coffee in his cup. “Tara, would you do me the honor of letting me get you off?”
Tara gave him fake sweet smile and replied, immediately, “No.”
“Ooh,” Chris said, shaking his head slightly as if sympathetic of Marco’s plight.
“Ah, rejected again,” Marco said as he stood up. He gave Chris a confused look. “Chris, tell me, haven’t I just fought off a strong griffin? Doesn’t that indicate my worth as a bedwarmer?”
“You wish, you neanderthal,” Tara replied.
“Bah, my awesome masculinity is wasted on you,” Marco said.
“Toxic masculinity.”
“Toe-may-toe, toh-mah-toe.”
The three chuckled after that, leaving Gilda pondering once more on their familiarity. The topic of the conversation between the three were a little confusing, but the warmth of their tones were not. Part of her wondered if she stumbled into something private, but she felt too amused to leave. She stole a look at Imlay, who looked utterly relaxed, as if he had already seen this type of conversation countless of times.
“In all seriousness, Marco,” Tara began, “was it really necessary for you to challenge a griffin to a duel?”
“Yeah,” Marco replied more softly, before stealing a glance at Chris and Tara. He smiled, almost sadly. “Yeah, it was.”
“Because in all honesty, it seems to be giving you more trouble than it’s worth. I mean, Raleigh never liked you in the first place, and you’re just giving him more ammunition.”
“Well,” Marco replied, his accent slightly changing, “we all have a job to do. Mr. Raleigh's job is being an asshole. And he excels at it.”
Imlay chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Did you memorize every line in that series?”
Marco smiled. “I’m still waiting for an opportunity to say, ‘I love you Fruity Rudy’ to Reyes.”
“Oh, please call me when you do,” Imlay said. “I want the best seat in the house for that ass kicking.”
“What, you think he’ll be insulted?” Marco asked.
Imlay seemed to pause at that before shaking his head. “You know what, he might actually be flattered.”
Tara looked between the two of them, then asked, “For those not in the know, what are you two talking about?”
Gilda nodded in agreement. So far, she was still lost on any references the conversation pertained.
“I’m quoting lines from the series Generation Kill,” Marco replied. He looked at Gilda. “Yeah, I think you and Fortrakt will like that one. It’s a pretty accurate look at Marine culture and chronicles one of the more modern skirmishes of our generation.”
“We’re earning quite a list,” Gilda noted.
“Think of it as something to Return to,” Marco said to her with a wink.
Gilda rolled her eyes, though thankful he wasn’t going to bring in his friends and the Corporal into that particular topic. She wondered if it was a mistake to admit the whole Return Totem to Marco, but at least he was discreet.
“Good thing you and Fortrakt have somewhat similar interest in human films,” Marco continued, walking towards Imlay, who extended his drinking cup. Marco poured out some coffee. “Can you imagine the list if you two had differing tastes? The list would be a lot longer. Speaking of Fortrakt, you weren’t there in morning training.”
Gilda nodded. “Sorry about that. I had to finish up the paperwork on Bricius’ transfer, and the First Spear wanted to discuss it with me. He was a bit curious on why someone would voluntarily be reassigned into cleaning latrines.”
“Was there any problem?” Marco asked.
“No,” the eagless replied. “Just honest curiosity.”
“Does he know about the duel?” Imlay asked.
“He did. I think he was making sure I wasn’t undermining Bricius’ rights.”
“His rights,” Marco scoffed. He drank from his cup, and placed both it and the pot to a nearby table and walked to her. “I may have won the duel, but Tara is right. Sometimes I wonder if it was worth it.”
“Mr. Raleigh?” Gilda asked.
“Not just him,” Marco said as he unceremoniously sat beside her, then laid prone. “Fortrakt wanted me to spar with him with weapons. Then I think he was accusing me of holding back.”
The eagless nodded. “To be fair, you were much faster in that duel than you were in your spars.”
“You told me it could have legally ended in death,” Marco replied. “I had good reason to be faster.”
“Duel to the death,” Chris muttered, sighing. “I break my back, and you’re back to your stupid crusade again.”
“It’s not like that,” Marco protested softly.
“Isn’t it?” Tara asked. “I worry about you sometimes, Marco. Back in college, you weren’t exactly…”
“Civilized?” he asked wryly.
“Calm,” Tara finished with a bit of dignity. “You always had a temper, especially when it came to things you thought were wrong. It got you into a lot of trouble.”
“Yes, well, it wasn’t like that yesterday,” Marco said, sitting up. Gilda looked at him for a moment, noting his slumped posture and frown, making her a little curious about what happened to him in the past. Then, as if someone activated a firegem inside him, he smiled, straightening up. “Well, at least my coolness factor went up a notch with the cubs. They at least appreciate my awesome masculinity.”
Tara rolled her eyes in response.
“Not only to the cubs,” Imlay interjected, earning the attention of everyone in the room. “A few of the guys talked about making their own challenges. Told them I’d run them up the fucking flagpole if they tried.”
Gilda frowned, but before she could say anything, Marco replied, “Heh, good ol’ Article 114, eh?”
Imlay gave Marco a look. “The fuck would you know about the UCMJ, Flip-Boy?”
“Google,” was Marco’s cheeky reply.
“Hold on,” Gilda interrupted. “What’s UCMJ, and what’s Google?”
“UCMJ stands for Uniform Code of Military Justice,” Imlay replied. “It’s basically our military laws. As for Google…”
“You’ve seen our computer, right?” Tara asked Gilda.
“The ones we use to watch movies, right?”
Tara nodded. “One of its other function is to connect with other computers, to share vast amounts of information. Google is basically something that allows anyone to search for any subject to read about it.”
Gilda blinked. “You mean, that computer will be able to give you any information you search for?” When Tara nodded, the eagless continued, “That’s amazing.”
“Once you get used to it, it’s nothing, really,” Chris replied. “And most of the time, you’ll only see information that most people already know and can legally share.”
“And that wasn’t what I was asking, Marco,” Imlay said. “Why were you interested enough to read through military laws?”
“Eh, I was bored,” Marco replied carelessly.
Chris snorted. “Please. Before I invited him to this trip, he was actually thinking of joining the Marine Corps as an officer.”
That got Gilda to look at Marco. The human looked embarrassed, much to her surprise. He quickly stood up from the bed and walked to the window, staring outside.
Imlay looked a bit more thoughtful. “You were planning to go to OCS?” Gilda must have looked confused because the Corporal explained afterwards, “OCS is Officer Candidate School.”
“Oh.”
Imlay smiled, then looked back at Marco. “So, OCS, eh?”
“Maybe,” Marco replied, almost a whisper. He made a slight noise and turned around to face them, arms across his chest. “Okay, let’s have it. I can literally hear you guys laughing.”
Gilda stole a glance at everyone else. Chris’ expression didn’t change, Tara looked somewhat torn, and Imlay looked downright pensive. She herself didn’t find anything funny about Chris’ declaration.
“I won’t,” the Corporal replied, unknowingly answering for all of them. “I’m just imagining the end product after they finished hammering you.” He paused. “I can’t say whether you would have passed, and even if you did, would you have continued after your ten weeks? Gone to Basic School? Would you have gone to infantry, combat arms, or support?”
Marco seemed to lose his somewhat defensive posture, looking relieved. “With my luck, I probably would have ended up as a POG.”
Gilda blinked. POG? She heard that term before, but it was never explained.
Imlay laughed. “Yeah, that, I can see. Still, without the trip, would you have been a new butter bar in charge?”
Gilda blinked again. Butter bar? She looked around her to see Chris and Tara just staring in confusion as well.
“I don’t know,” Marco said, smiling before he shook his head. “Okay, enough embarrassing stories.” Chris looked like he was about to protest when Marco glared at him. “I mean, if you want to continue, I do recall that bar fight that got started by a pair of dirty briefs and a terrified bunny.”
“You are lucky my spine is broken,” Chris replied, his cheeks red.
Marco’s smile widened. “The poor bunny was absolutely traumatized.”
“Okay, okay, you win,” Chris muttered.
“Now I’m curious,” Tara declared.
“Me too,” Gilda added.
Marco laughed. “Maybe another time.” He looked out the window for again, then his stance changed. He paused for a moment before tilting his head slightly. “Huh.”
The eagless stood up and followed his gaze. The sun was already coming down from it’s highest peak, casting a somewhat soft shadow on the buildings outside. She couldn’t see the street from her angle, but she noticed a lone griffin sitting on one of the rooftops not so far away. Her eyes focused, bringing the image of the said griffin to greater clarity, and what she saw caused her to growl.
“What is she doing there?” Gilda demanded.
Marco shrugged. “Don’t know. I noticed her this morning, though, in a nearer building.”
Imlay stood up. “Who is it?”
“That eagless I dueled yesterday,” Marco replied.
“What?!”
“Let me,” Gilda said as she jumped down from the bed. Imlay looked like he was about to protest when she added, “You still have to check if the wagons are ready. Besides, I’ve been wanting to speak to her.”
Imlay paused for a moment before nodding. Gilda nodded back and then looked at the rest of them. Marco looked at her worriedly. Tara looked a bit more apprehensive and confused, while Chris frowned. None of them said anything.
After a short goodbye, Gilda sprang towards the roof and launched herself in the air. She was expecting to chase the Talon down, but surprisingly, Ondrea made no such move, as if waiting for her. Gilda didn’t waste time and landed close to the waiting Talon.
While Ondrea didn’t even deem to face her, she still greeted in a respectful tone, “Good afternoon, sir.”
“Get away from him, Talon,” Gilda said in a hard tone.
Ondrea turned to face her. From here, Gilda could still see the bandages that covered part of her right foreleg, which was stiff as the Talon moved, probably because of a wooden splint underneath. Her right wing also didn’t move as smoothly as it did, probably still sprained or just swollen. In either case, Gilda cared little.
So when Ondrea said, “No,” Gilda readied to launch herself at her.
“I won’t repeat myself, Talon,” Gilda seethed.
“Sir, am I breaking any laws?”
Gilda stared at the Talon for a moment before shaking her head. “No. It changes nothing though. Leave. That’s an order.”
Ondrea looked at her for a moment, eyes narrowing. “With all due respect, sir,” she began calmly, “as I am on medical leave, the only orders I have to obey are the Medicos’.” Then, much to Gilda’s frustration, Ondrea looked back towards the room where Marco was in.
Gilda closed her eyes. If what Ondrea said was true, then she’d have to go to the acting Medico Tribune to order her back. However, she didn’t want to leave the Talon alone near Marco.
Where is Fortrakt when you need him? she thought. Out loud, she said, “Then get back to the Medico.”
“They did all they could. I have been ordered to let it heal on its own, which is what I’m doing.”
“Then heal somewhere else.”
Ondrea seemed to smile. “You have a lot of commanding power, sir, but not when it comes to personal things.”
“The human is under my care,” Gilda countered. “I particularly don’t care about your personal intentions, Talon. Leave well enough alone.”
Ondrea seemed to pause for a moment, testing Gilda’s patience. Before the latter could move, though, the Talon said, almost absently, “You had his scars removed.”
“What is it to you?”
“Nothing, sir,” Ondrea replied. “I would have requested the Medico to remove it as well. If I was to Mark him, it would have to be done properly.”
“Excuse me?” Gilda asked, part of her surprised how cold and dead her tone sounded.
“I want to Mark him properly,” Ondrea repeated. “There aren’t many griffins that interest me. A lot of those I met usually let their names and money speak for themselves. This human, though, faced me with absolutely nothing to hide behind, and played me like I was a stupid cub. It was rather humbling.” She paused and turned to her. “As you claim to be responsible for his well-being, then I shall state my intentions clearly. I will approach him and ask him for a Round. Then, we’ll see how it goes.”
“You will not,” Gilda said with some finality.
“You have no right to stop me,” Ondrea countered, though now some anger leaking out of her voice. Something in Gilda’s face must have made the Talon realize something because her face went blank, then turned to an expression of understanding. “Oh. Oh… now I see.”
“See what?” Gilda asked, annoyed.
“Your own intentions.”
Gilda felt confusion wash over her. “Intentions of what?”
Ondrea just shook her head but said nothing again for a few moments. Gilda felt a little silly, wondering why she hadn’t charged at the Talon and forced her back to Medico. Then, a stronger part of her wondered why she hadn’t ripped Ondrea to shreds.
The last thought got her to blink, and she began to ask herself why she even thought of that. The Talon was obviously no threat yet, but Gilda was perceiving her as one. Why?
“A little advice, sir?” Ondrea finally asked. “Don’t wait.”
“This conversation is getting a little tedious,” Gilda said wearily. “Don’t wait for what?”
“Don’t wait to ask him for a Round. Don’t wait to Mark him.”
Gilda looked at Ondrea for a moment, her eyes narrowing. “Did Marco hit you too hard on the head, Talon?”
Ondrea laughed, an honest one. “Maybe. However, my advice stands. I won’t be the last eagless to show interest in him, sir.”
Gilda found herself shaking slightly, and part of her was wondering why she was feeling unbearably hot. “If you’re trying to confuse me, Talon, it’s not working.”
“It’s deceptively simple if you think about it,” Ondrea continued, as if she didn’t hear her. “He’s a new species with somewhat familiar mannerisms and an oddly pleasant scent. And unlike the human soldiers fighting with us, he’s a public face, openly playing with cubs and even a common visitor to the marketplace. He has shown himself to be pleasant company. If there was really anything to criticize about him, it would be that he was too nice, like an Equestrian.” She then smiled. “Then yesterday, he proved he had a warrior side—strength, will, and skills enough to outmaneuver a Talon. When he knocked me unconscious, he sent a message to any griffin watching the duel that he had potential as a mate.”
“Enough,” Gilda growled, taking steps towards Ondrea.
“You are being territorial, sir,” Ondrea continued, deceptively calm. “You have to realize this before you lash out carelessly.”
Gilda shook her head. Part of her was convinced that Ondrea was playing a game, that she just wanted to hurt Marco. Then, the last thought made her realize the Talon seemed to have a point. Was she being territorial?
She thought back on the past few weeks before realizing that a lot of her thoughts seemed to be centering around Marco. Using him as a Return Talisman? Her annoyance at Nydia’s closeness to him? Her anger at Ondrea and Bricius? Not wanting any other griffin to leave their Marks on him?
Am I viewing him as a potential mate? she wondered.
Gilda stared at the Talon for a moment. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself down. Even if she did view Marco as a mate, that was not important right now. She needed to make sure how sincere Ondrea was. She needed to make sure this wasn’t another attempt to hurt him.
After a moment, she asked, “Why are you being forthcoming, Talon?”
Ondrea sighed, nodding. “At least you’ve realized it and are rationalizing.”
“I am not going give your words any credence, as much as they seems to make sense. For all I know, this is a leftover scheme by Bricius.”
Ondrea snorted. “That little coward couldn’t think himself out of a latrine.”
Gilda didn’t want to smile, but it came out nonetheless. “Funny you should say that now, considering you were nothing more than his… hire. I have little faith in a words of a Talon whose service is so easily obtained.”
“I only agreed to his scheme because he was going to do me a favor.”
It was Gilda’s turn to snort. “That is not helping your case.”
“Then let me give you my perspective, sir,” Ondrea replied. “You asked me why I was being forthcoming? Maybe you are curious why I’m saying all of these things to you? It’s simple, Sub-Tribune Behertz. We can relate to each other.”
“I doubt that very much,” Gilda said.
“We’re both illegitimate daughters of our more prestigious sires,” Ondrea said. “Admittedly, my situation is simpler as I don’t have the shadow of High Lord Bergenherz hanging over me.”
Gilda drew herself higher. “Watch your next words carefully, Talon. You are treading on thin ice.”
Ondrea nodded. “I just want to make sure you understand.”
That made Gilda sigh. “I heard that Bricius’ family had the ear of a Lord.”
Ondrea nodded again.
“What were you hoping they’d accomplish? That they’d convince him to recognize you as his legitimate daughter?”
The Talon gave her a sad smile. “Ideally, yes. Very unrealistic, I know. It wouldn’t have hurt if they’d at least have my sire recognize my accomplishments, maybe even send his compliments.”
“Has your sire ever tried to contact you?”
“Not since my mother moved to the South. That was ten years ago.”
Gilda frowned. “Ondrea, you’re holding to a fool’s hope.”
“I know that, sir.”
There was a moment of silence between the two. Gilda sighed again, nodding towards the Talon. “I don’t know if I can forgive you for hurting Marco, Ondrea. However, it doesn’t mean I don’t recognize your situation.”
“As long as we understand each other, sir.” Ondrea began to stand on all fours, a little shaky, but her stance proud. “I won’t interfere with you and your intended. However, I will not be beaten by someone else. I hope we’re clear on that.”
Gilda didn’t reply, watching her take a few stumbling steps before she gently floated away. Ondrea gave Marco’s room one last look before gazing back to her. Then, she was gone.
Gilda stood there for a minute, trying to digest her thoughts. She wasn’t completely convinced about Ondrea’s opinion of her viewing Marco as a mate, but she couldn’t ignore the fact that she was being a bit more territorial than normal. It was all too complicated.
She felt for her Command Chain. She was still confused as to why her sire recommended the promotion. This was the same griffin who didn’t even bother contacting her or her mother when they went to Equestria, or even recommending her to the Knights as she initially planned. Now, she was leading a defense against an ancient enemy, and when there was a measure of certain victory, this was thrown into the mix as well.
All too much, Gilda thought. She thought of her mother, a no-nonsense griffin who nurtured her talent and love for flying. She remembered her words of encouragement, telling her that her sire wrote to them, that he was proud of her accomplishments in the Junior Speedster flying camp. She remembered the hurt when she realized her mother lied to her, and that her sire had written no such letters.
In fact, he’d never written to them at all.
She remembered the harsh words she threw in their last argument. She remembered feeling regret of said argument when her mother passed away not long after.
What would mother do? What advice would she give me now?
Gilda took to the air, then made her way back to the inn. Landing on the rooftop, she made her way down the stairs, towards their room. Like earlier, she took a breath, counted to ten, then knocked on the door.
By luck, Marco was the one that opened the door.
“We need to talk,” was all she said.
He looked at her for a moment, then nodded. “Where?”
“Is the rooftop good?”
“Lead on.”
It was a short, silent, and somewhat uncomfortable trip. As they stood on top of the roof, Gilda’s mind raced on how to open the conversation. She had never thought of anyone as a mate before, so this was all new to her. She half-wondered if she should plow through like she did when she was told that she was commanding the defense of Aricia, but she couldn’t. This felt more personal, and far scarier.
Mercifully, Marco seemed to be patient. He looked at her, calmly, a little worried, but thankfully silent. She didn’t know how long the silence passed.
She cleared her throat.
“Something came up,” Gilda started. A moment later, she regretted saying it like that. It came out too… impersonal, like she was stating the weather. “Sorry,” she blurted out.
Marco gave her a confused smile. “Sorry about what?”
Gilda took a breath. “Marco, what do you think of me?”
“You already know what I think of you.”
She sighed. “Just a cool griffin?”
Marco closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, they were furrowed. “You know, Gilda, this conversation feels a little familiar.”
“How so?”
“I said the same line to Ta—a girl back on Earth,” Marco replied softly. “I felt awkward, lost, and half-wondering why I even said it out loud.”
Gilda felt herself chuckle, and with that, released a lot of the tension she didn’t know she had. “I just had an interesting conversation with Ondrea.”
“Did she hurt you?”
Gilda stared at Marco for a moment, and he raised his hands as an apology.
“Of course not,” he continued. “What was the conversation about?”
“She thinks I’m too territorial when it comes to you.”
“Really?” he asked.
Gilda nodded. “I’m beginning to think she was right.”
“I don’t see it.”
“I wanted to rip her head off when she began to talk about asking you for a Round and Marking you.”
Marco blinked. “Wait, a Round with me? Really?”
Gilda growled. “That’s not important.”
“Yes it is,” Marco countered. “I mean, why? Is she interested in me all the sudden?”
“You—” Gilda paused, for some reason not liking where the conversation was going. “You got her interest. After showing that you were…”
“Strong?” he finished for her.
Gilda took a deep breath. “Yes. It’s a griffin thing, okay?”
“Should I take up on her offer?”
The reply was swift and cold. “No.”
Marco blinked again, then smiled. “Okay, I can see now what you mean by territorial.”
“Marco—”
He raised his hands. “Okay, moving on then?” When Gilda gratefully nodded, he continued, “I am curious about that term, Marking. What’s that?”
Gilda, half-glad by the somewhat change in topic, explained, “Traditionally in a griffin marriage, a tiercel and an eagless would mark each other with their claws. Nothing too serious, but a symbolic gesture of carrying each other’s marks, then exchange gifts to show they belong to each other, like gems, daggers, or even primary feathers dyed in the colors of their families. Nowadays, though, it's less about marriage and more about showing other griffins that a Marked griffin is taken.”
His hand went to his face. “That’s why you wanted to see that scar gone.”
“Yes.”
“Huh.” He frowned for a moment, making Gilda’s heart speed up a bit faster before squashed the feeling down. Then, he suddenly smiled. “Hey, does that mean Nydia proposed to me when she gave me the translation gem and pierced my ear?”
The memory of it annoyed her, but she took another calming breath. “It could be translated that way. I did give her a stern lecture about it.”
“Wow, no wonder she was so skittish around you, especially when I was nearby. This is… I mean, wow.”
Marco took a seat and for a moment, silence reigned again. Gilda pondered on her next action, then slowly approached him. He seemed to deep in thought that he didn’t even notice her until she was at claw distance.
“Can I—” she paused. After a while, she realized she was being silly. “Crows. Marco, can I sit? Beside you?”
He looked at her wryly. “This is coming from the griffin that, just earlier, got on my bed without permission?”
Gilda rolled her eyes and sat down beside him without preamble. “You’re just asking to get hit, aren’t you?”
“Hey, if I get a cool Mark out it.”
That heated her face up. “You can be impossible.”
He turned to her, smirking. “Part of my charm.”
“I wonder about that.”
They paused again, looking towards the horizon. The sun was finally sinking, the sky turning red to welcome the twilight.
“Well, this is a little romantic,” Gilda uttered without a thought. Then, she blinked in horror as she realized what she just said.
Marco, though, laughed. “Yeah, it kinda is.” He paused. “Are you sure, though? I mean, do you even find me remotely attractive?”
“I—maybe,” Gilda said, wanting to shrug but for some reason her shoulders didn’t want to obey her. “You humans smell nice. Your faces are so expressive and familiar. Your hands look a bit like claws and… well—I don’t know where I’m going with this.”
“I can understand that.”
She looked down on the floor and asked, almost whispering, “Do you find me attractive?”
When Marco didn’t say anything for a minute or so, she felt herself freeze, but was surprised when he suddenly replied, “Yes.”
“Really?” she asked, looking at him.
“There’s something… exotic about you,” Marco muttered. “I don’t know. Maybe you have the the right curves that make it less, well, weird, I guess. Your face is expressive, and feminine shaped? Look, I don’t know, okay.”
After a while, both of them laughed.
“This is so awkward,” Marco said. “It’s going to be a bit weird between us after this, huh?”
“Probably,” Gilda said with a small smile.
“Yeah. Maybe something will happen and we can go back to norma—”
A sound like a crack of thunder from a faraway storm suddenly jolted both of them out of their conversation. Both of them stood up and looked behind them. With Gilda’s eyes, she could see a wisp of black smoke ascending to the sky. A second later, a second eruption sent a small column of fire up.
Gilda looked at Marco. He raised his hands again. “I didn’t do it.”
She rolled her eyes. “What was that?” she asked, looking back at the direction of the smoke.
“I’m not an expert, but that sounded like an explosion. A grenade? A mine, maybe?”
Gilda’s eyes narrowed. Did someone trigger the Claymore the Marines had set up? Before she could say anything, she spread her wings, ready to launch into the air. Then, she remembered Marco’s presence and looked at him. “This conversation…”
“It can wait,” Marco said. He looked like he was about to say something, changed his mind, and then ignored it. “Be careful.”
Gilda just nodded as she launched herself skyward.