Taking a Gander

by HackamoreHalter

2: Combat and Cunning

Being a griffon wasn’t easy.

Gander was well aware of this fact. He’d learned it growing up; it had been soundly beaten into him. Even in their youth, griffons are constantly pushed to achieve. To fight against each other, to pit themselves against their kin was just how a young griffon was supposed to learn and grow. Even a good griffon was never supposed to have it easy. What would be the point without a challenge or struggle?

Gander was far from a good griffon. Where others had to struggle to win, his was a struggle merely to survive. Before their flight feathers fully grew in, the rambunctious youngsters would pit themselves against each other at climbing mountains in a night. It had taken him a week and almost killed him more than once. As it turns out, pony hooves are less adept than lion’s paws at gripping sheer cliffs.

And that was merely the physical aspect, for griffons are firm believers in traditions and rites. The proper way to conduct one’s self in a cutthroat court, the many different self sacrificial rituals to perform in honor of one’s elders and the earth mother, and even breakfast was a dance with precisely measured steps. When one can somehow fail at making tea, you know that the word easy no longer applies.

No, there was nothing easy about being a griffon, which is why Gander found himself fighting for his life against a beast that could end him with a flick of its claw. Though he'd seen and fought bears before, he'd never encountered a creature like this before. It was possible that he'd heard of one once, most likely in a griffon epic. One of the kind of tales that always ended in blood and the hero dying nobly against insurmountable odds.

The giant let loose another roar that rattled Gander’s skull and left a faint buzz in his ears. That sounded pretty insurmountable to him. Griffin etiquette decreed a suitable response, and he gave his best war shriek in reply. For the next few moments, he desperately wished that it was the temporary hearing loss that made it sound so pathetic.

The beast swung at him with a meaty fist that could have cleared entire swaths of the forest away, enough to build another pony village with room to spare. Only a hurried dive kept the outmatched griffon in one piece, sliding just beneath the dusky fur of its long arms. He furiously beat his wings to gain altitude before swooping at a dull yellow-and-red eye larger than he was. Gander brought his scaly forefeet together and intertwined his claws, swinging with his mightiest haymaker at a bloodshot pupil.

The monster blinked.

So, he was as threatening as a grain of sand. Well, this was going to go spectacularly. Gander wheeled around for another pass, only to be sideswiped by what might as well have been the side of a barn. An instinctive and accidental swipe from the starry arm of a galaxy had just barely clipped the griffon. The beast hadn’t even been aiming for him.

Not that it mattered to Gander, who dropped like a stone with fire burning through his bones, tracing a line across his right wing and down his ribs. He fell just outside of the pony village, the air escaping his lungs as he met the ground. At least the earth had broken his fall, he thought with a wheeze, struggling even to suck in air. His eyes had been clenched shut against the pain, but he pushed it aside and pried them open. Above, the immense bear’s great muzzle was swiveling from side to side, clearly searching for the pesky bug assaulting it. Gander wanted to laugh. It didn’t even notice it had already won.

Hind legs like stone towers rose and fell as it adjusted its footing, still looking about in confusion. One stomped down in a small plowed field not far from where Gander struggled to stand, obliterating a smiling straw pony scarecrow. The impact shook the ground beneath him like waves on the surface of a lake, not wonderfully conducive to his attempts to right himself, and Gander met the earth once more. The leg rose again, moving towards the downed griffon with the slow inevitability of an oncoming tide.

His fate about to come crashing down upon him, Gander closed his eyes in acceptance. So, this was it. He was going to die, an ant beneath the uncaring sole of a moving mountain. It would make a fine song, if only one sung for laughs over a warm tankard. A pity none would know to sing it. He knew a great many griffons who would love to hear of his demise. Well, regardless, there was only one thing left to do. As the honor of the mother earth demanded, he opened his eyes that he might stare death in the face.

Brilliant blue eyes stared back, and he jerked back with a startled honk.

“Hi!” Ducky said, a smile on her face that was quickly replaced by a look of utter terror. Gander noticed that the sun above them had been blocked out completely, and both pony and griffon sat in a shadow.

“Apology hug!” The mare cried and tackled him, wrapping her hooves around his midsection as she pushed her wings harder than she’d ever done before. It was a fairly sad takeoff in terms of distance and speed, and certainly not one of her best, but Ducky figured she could be forgiven given the circumstances. As it was, it was just barely enough. The two shot out from beneath the Ursa’s paw just before it smashed down behind them. She wasn’t in nearly good enough shape to continue flying with the extra load in her arms, but she had just enough control to slow their descent and keep the landing manageably neat.

Well, for herself, anyway. She’d accidentally lost her hold on Gander a few seconds too early, and he’d tumbled a few times after he slipped from her hooves. Still, she gave herself a mental pat on the back.

“Ugh... you!” Gander pushed himself upright, glaring at the pegasus in... well, he wasn’t quite sure what, actually. Anger, he supposed. He opened his beak to speak, but as always the mare had him beat with words.

“I’m sorry!” She said, holding her hooves up in a sign of peace with a sheepish look of her face. She was talking a mile a minute, her eyes expressive and full of sorrow. At least, when they were focused on him and not darting terrified glances at the Ursa towering above. Clearly, there were bigger things on her mind than apologies, and why she was even here when she was so obviously scared out of her mind was a question that completely stumped his griffon mind. “So, ahahaha, um, we clearly got off on the wrong hoof back there and I know I totally went too far and brushed off your problems and stuff and I shouldn’t have said those things when I don't know anything about your situation so I came to apologize!”

She'd managed to jam every word into a single breath, which was impressive in a way. Gander ran his short talons along his wing, inspect for a break. He felt none, but merely touching it was enough to send waves of pain down its length that had him gritting his teeth. “I did not ask you for this, pony. I did not ask for your help.”

“Friends never have to ask! That’s the pony way, bud!” She exclaimed, taking a proud stance like she'd just won a race. Ducky’s eyes went wide for a moment as she realized her mistake.

“Besides,“ she added quietly, kicking at the dirt beneath her hoof and refusing to look at him. If this was her poker face, it could use some work. “That was, um, totally an apology hug. Just very, you know... enthusiastic, I guess? Not a rescue. Nope, definitely not. So you don’t owe me nothin’!”

“I...” Gander hesitated, unsure of what to say. What was the griffon thing to do in this situation? What was the right thing to do? Perhaps the Ursa was upset about being ignored, and let its presence be known with another shuddering impact that went through the ground beneath Gander's mismatched feet, causing him to stumble. Even the pegasus had trouble keeping upright.

"Whoa, watch your step!"

A sudden clarity overtook his mind, and an idea sprung into life. “I think... pony has a job to do, yes? You shape the clouds?”

“Wait, what? I mean, yeah, I do, but what’s that gotta do with anythin’?” Another earthshaking tremor reached them, and she bit back a yelp. “It’s hardly the time, don’tcha think?!”

“No, no, pony! This is the perfect time for clouds!” Gander’s voice gained strength as his idea formed in his mind, his enthusiasm already returning. “I must fight now, for this is the griffon way. You, pony, must go to make clouds. Surely, there is a starter cloud in the skies above, yes?”

“I... uh, well, I guess, but why would I want a... stupid....”

Gander gave one of his signature almost-smiles as he saw the idea take root. “Okay then, we are agreed. I will go fight now. Fare well, pony.”

“H-hey, wait just a sunny seco-!” Ducky began to object, but the griffon was already gone, winging his way up into the skies with sheer stubbornness and force of will. All had their parts to play in the cosmic scheme of things, and Gander knew well what he must do. The monster before him had moved once more towards the town in its rampage; several fine houses and what must have been a bakery by the smell of the smoke had already been turned into little more than debris.

No more. This bear, no matter how tall, owed him a debt. It was time to collect.

He’d climbed a fair height above even the beast’s head, and now he drew in his wings and dove. It was a textbook dive, though there were no textbooks written on the secret combat techniques of his clan. He’d had no need of books. His father had taught him this very dive. There was an art to the motion, to how one held one’s self just so, to the angle of one’s body and the tautness of one’s muscles; all to slip through the skies like a bullet made flesh. Gander wasn’t one to fall victim to hope, but in this one, single moment, he wondered if he would have made his father proud.

He fell towards earth like a shooting star, a poetic thought given his opponent, passing a hair’s width away from the celestial grizzly's massive head. In that moment, he twisted to strike out with his hind legs, hooves kicking out in a terribly ungriffon-like buck. His strike was perfectly on target, impacting the side of its skull with such force that the walking mountain range rocked to one side, its starry eyes crossing and uncrossing. It roared its fury, shaking its lumbering head and turning to snap at the intruder, but Gander was already past, climbing once more with his previously built speed.

An imposing paw followed him in his climb, reaching towards him with a set of grasping claws with sharp edges that gleamed with starlight, catching up swiftly as Gander’s altitude bled his speed away. He couldn’t possibly fly high enough to escape its reach, so the griffon opened his wings fully, bringing his momentum to a sudden halt. He twisted in mid-air, and the beast’s tree-sized claws came so close to slicing into his hide that he felt a few hairs from his tail pull free, but he kicked off the starry pelt of its hand with his hooves for an extra burst of momentum, diving again parallel to the oversized ursine’s arm. Another masterful descent, another kick to that gargantuan head, and another narrow escape as he strained to regain altitude.

Gander gasped for air, his lungs burning. These sudden course corrections, and at high speed no less, were causing his already injured wing muscles to scream in agony. He was beyond exhausted, and fighting through the pain of his bruised ribs was only adding to the drain on his stamina. Adrenaline could only carry one so far. Fortunately, the griffon didn’t have long to wait.

A sense of deja vu suddenly struck him, as did an object in his path. It knocked him into a slow spiral, but he quickly recovered with a fit of aching wing beats. This was no vast animal paw come to claim his life. Had it been the beast at his back that struck, he would already be dead. No, just as he’d been greeted with this morning, an entirely too rectangular cloud floated conspicuously alone in the middle of the sky. He dropped onto the head of the cloud, only to witness the head of the titan staring him down.

Regardless of the cloud's dizzying height, it still remained at perfect eye-level for the towering bear. It had found its pest. And now, it would be rid of it.

The dusk-colored beast gave a roar that blew the cloud Gander was sitting on back several feet, but not far enough to be clear of its vast reach. Its cavernous maw opened wide, revealing a throat like a black hole to fit with the constellations of stars forming the creature’s flesh. It lurched forward, all-encompassing, blocking out the sun and then the skies and at last the earth. The little cloud, no more than a marshmallow to the giant, and the pest upon it were both swallowed up in the jaws of a titan.

For a moment, the griffon could swear he heard his name upon the winds. Then, as the great wall of fangs came snapping closed, he knew nothing but darkness.

Comments

[vren55]

Dude, this is a good fight scene. Kinda like an ant vs a giant, but its still pretty darn well done. Kudos to you :D I'mma keep reading.

[Rakaziel]

Awesome fight! Both the maneuvers and the thoughts are really well written