Fimbulvetr

by Alkarasu

12: Valkyrja

Admittedly, it wasn't fun at all.

The cave that hid the two young griffins was small, cold and cramped. It was also the only thing that kept them alive in the most horrible blizzard Vsevolod had seen in his life. It did a good job covering their tracks, sure, but on the other hand, it did even better one in draining the last traces of warmth that the small hospital room filled him with during the last week.

It wasn't that bad when they started their escape - grabbing the prepared bags and overturning the kitchen a bit to make it look natural. The snow was already pretty heavy by then, but the air was almost warm compared to frigid hell he remembered it to be, and the wind was very light. All things considered, the initial phase of the plan went without a hitch. They've scaled the town wall near the hospital - not too big of an achievement from this direction, and disappeared into the scarce forest, unseen by the town guards. Fresh, well-fed and rested, they've made a good time putting some distance between them and the city. The snowfall was receding by then, and Vsevolod even worried a bit about the tracks being visible. In the hindsight, he wasn't paying enough attention to Helga - but that could've been explained that after her incredible feat of speech, she was quiet and just followed his lead. Quiet or not, she looked more and more nervous the longer they walked.

Then the storm decided that the foreplay was over.

First, the wind picked up, blowing fresh snow from the trees and the ground and hiding everything in the impenetrable white flurry. Then the clouds started throwing down even more snow into the mix. In mere moments two young griffons were completely lost, hardly discerning up from down. As if that wasn't enough, the temperature dropped like an anvil, from near-spring coolness to something that felt like below absolute zero. Overwhelmed by the wind, blinded by the snow and deafened by the wails of the wind in the treetops, Vsevolod was sure that this was the end. There was no way he could survive that. Even Helga seemed scared and lost. She even grabbed onto Vsevolod, shaking in fear, when something dark and fast-moving crashed into both of them, sending them tumbling down the slope they were on top of. That has proven to be their salvation since the tumble ended right in front of the mouth of the small cave at the base of the cliff. Even dazed as they were, they've managed to dive inside. It was still cold and unpleasant, but it was out of the wind, and with three of them, they could keep enough warmth to not to worry about freezing.

It took some time for Vsevolod to compose himself enough to notice the third one. The darkness of the cave wasn't helping, too. The unidentified creature was about the same size as Vsevolod himself was covered in fur, and was shivering profusely while trying to snuggle into Helga's warm coat. Since there was no way to identify who that was, and the storm wasn't showing any sign of weakening, he decided to follow the lead of the mysterious stranger and join the cuddles. Helga wasn't showing any apprehension towards the creature, and with how cautious she was, it was unlikely a threat. Soon, they were all asleep to the howling of the wind outside.

The morning came, but the storm remained. Vsevolod's acquired habit to rise with the sun woke him up way before the stranger, so he had some time to look around. The entrance to the cave was half-buried in the fresh snow, and the blizzard threatened to bury them completely. That was a reason for concern, but first, he had to look at his new acquaintance.

The creature in question turned out to be yet another pony. A pegasus of light-gray color, with dark gray mane and tail, and a picture of two blue-gray clouds with a single bright orange line peeking from beyond them on her rear end. She looked younger than all the ponies Vsevolod had met before. She also snored like a buzz-saw, the sound that would've been a problem if not for the howling of wind outside. The dreadful sound stopped the moment he shifted, trying to see her better. She slowly half-opened an eye, looked at Vsevolod and grumbled something incoherent, but unpleasant. The next second, the eye was closed and the snoring resumed. He turned his attention to Helga, but she was still fast asleep, hugging the pegasus and drooling into her mane a little. The previous week was enough for Vsevolod to know, that waking Helga up was a bad idea. Good doctor Podorozhnik nearly lost an eye for that knowledge. Everything pointed to the fact that the only one to deal with the shrinking entrance at the moment was himself. So he pulled his wing from the snoring pegasus, who had used it as a blanket, and peeked outside.

From what little he was able to see, the storm has calmed down from the night before, but still was too strong to consider going out of the cave. Right before him was a rather wide swath of flat land, which curved into a slope a bit further. The flat part curved a bit, hinting that it was, in fact, a frozen river. If that was the one Vsevolod heard from Podorozhnik about, they were right on the eastern border of Yelets' lands, the river Don. Due to some obscure politics, the good doctor was quite certain that no search party would look for them beyond the river, so the first part of their daring escape plan was almost complete. The storm meant no one was after them yet, and there was hope this was the direction they'll look last. By that time he expected them to be far away, even with Helga's wing still not well enough to fly. Podorozhnik said it would take it, at least, another week to heal. Of course, their new "friend" could complicate things quite a lot.

By the time Helga was ready to wake up, Vsevolod had already cleaned up the entrance and even managed to start a small fire to heat up the breakfast and keep the cold away. The smell of the warming up pies produced a long yawn and a content chirp from the catbird while she stood up and unceremoniously dumped the pegasus on the cold cavern floor. That caused some more discontent grumbles, but finally, their guest decided to open her very light blue, almost white eyes and blink on a pair of griffons near the fire. She held a pause, looking at them intently, then shrugged and said: "Eh. I've seen worse. What's for breakfast?"

Helga looked at the pony with interest, licked her beak and, with some effort, chirped: "Brak-kfast?" She stepped to the pony and poked her right in her butt-mark with a talon. "Brak-kfast!"

"Ow! What are you, the Wild?" grumbled the pegasus, moving away from the griffon. "Is that why you drooled all over me in the night?"

"Helga! No eating ponies! Bad griffon!" shouted Vsevolod, not turning his gaze from the heating pies. Helga sighed disappointedly and returned to his side, laying down near the fire. She got the pie from him and started slowly munching on it, stealing longing glances at the pegasus, who also got her share and was eating it in the furthest part of the cave.

"Brak-kfast latter-r?" suddenly perked up ponicidal catbird, as she finished up the pie. "Vssss... Vseee... SQUAWK! Vlod wis-se!"

"Just don't let her catch you when I'm not around," suggested Vsevolod, sighing on his friend antics. "I'm not sure if she understands the concept of a joke, and I've heard they do eat ponies from time to time."

"Wait, she really is the Wild?" asked the pegasus, involuntary trying to pass through the cave wall.

"Afraid so. As wild as they go. She's getting better, though."

"Are you bucking insane?" screamed the pony, starting to shiver. "She's THE WILD. They don't get better! They get worse! They steal the foals! They curse the crops!"

"Cr-r-ops!" said Helga, giving the pegasus amused look. "Cr-r-ops! Kerrrk!"

"See? She's already at it!"

Vsevolod felt a headache building up. He was trapped in a small cave with a mare that was scared of feral griffons, and a feral griffon, who had apparently no qualms about eating the mare the moment he looks another way. Throwing either of them out wasn't an option, so he decided to try diplomacy.

"Hel, stop that, please. You are not hungry."

Helga looked at him defiantly and managed another word out of her small vocabulary.

"Pr-r-rey!"

"I wonder why I have to endure all this..." sighed Vsevolod, turning to the panicking pegasus. "Calm down. I'm pretty sure she's joking. Now, what's your name?"

"K-kurgash Irte!" answered the mare, still wary of grinning Helga. "Daughter of Timer Urman, the Knowing One."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Vsevolod, son of Arkady and that's Helga, of whose parents I have no idea. So, Irte, are you from Yelets?"

"N-no. I'm from the Yashel Urda. We roam the great plains to the east and south." The pegasus was slowly calming down, but still not enough to leave her corner. "The sky is our roof, and the flowers are our carpet! All of the Wild Field bow to our khan!"

"Lucky!" brightened up the younger griffon, dousing the fire. "And here I was wondering where we will find him. Could you take us to your people?"

"Why would great khan want to talk to children?" asked Kurgash Irte, slowly lowering herself into a sitting position. "Why would he want to talk to a Wild?"

"I don't know!" Suddenly, Vsevolod was near her, looking very irritated. "I don't know ANYTHING! Because everyone in this stupid world assumes that if they know something everyone else does too! Everyone is happy to punish me for something that I'm not supposed to do, everyone wants me to follow some rules no one bothered to explain. Your 'khan' is no different! I don't know how to talk to him or who he talks to. I know that I need some place to call home, where no one would try to kill me just because I made a friend where I shouldn't, and your tribe or whatever can be that place. If it couldn't... well, the world is large, and I'm getting really good at walking."

He suddenly deflated, slumping to the ground and buried his face in his claws. His outburst left him nearly in tears again. That was embarrassing, he never had such rapid and massive mood swings and fits of rage before. The pegasus looked at him with an unreadable expression, then sighed and walked to sit closer to him.

"You are Return?" She asked, carefully touching him with a hoof. Helga squinted threateningly but remained in place. "Sorry. I had never seen one this close. Your kind is rare in the Field. Both... I mean... sorry. I have no idea what it's like. Gra... I mean, the great khan talks to everypony who seeks him. Show him respect, and he will grant you a place in his herds. And your friend..." she looked at Helga and shivered. "And your friend, too... I think. If she won't eat his ponies, that is."

Vsevolod listened to the howls of the wind outside. He had no desire to seek some mysterious khan of some kind of nomadic horse culture. He had to, he knew it, but the more he thought about it, the less he understood how he would be able to live their life. He had not the slightest idea what a life could it be. Well, at least, the representative of the Nomads seemed friendly enough.

"Will you help us to get to him?" He asked, sighing.

"Of course! But first, we'll need to stop by my mother's herd. I took some things for her in Yelets. She would be glad if you help me, and her word is strong with the khan!" She pointed at the pair of small woolen saddlebags that Vsevolod hadn't noticed before.

He felt a shiver down his spine. "By 'took'... do you, by any chance mean, that you bought it there?" He felt like he already knew the answer, but needed some confirmation.

"No way!" The pegasus disgust at the concept was almost palpable. "They stole it from us and now I return it home! We don't pay for what already ours!"

"So... is there any chance they won't send everyone after us when they discover that you 'took' it?" Vsevolod was already feeling his familiar headache creeping up.

"You are very funny Return! Of course, they would want it back! They would probably kill me, if they catch me, too!" Kurgash Irte wasn't looking sad talking about it, she looked almost happy. "But they would never catch me, I'm the strongest in my herd! I can almost fly!"

After careful consideration, there was only one word to describe the situation.

And it was very, very expletive.

Comments

[Doppler Effect]

The chapter titles continue to be amusingly appropriate.

The world really hates Vsevolod, doesn't it? Now he's going to be doubly hunted.

Interesting that Irte says she's the strongest in her herd, and "can almost fly". Is the Khanate descended mostly from wild horses?

And Irte is grandaughter of the Khan? Definitely worth making a good impression there...

[Alkarasu]

7056369 Thanks, I try to make them fit.

Not only he's doubly hunted, now there's a good chance that the hunt will head his way from the start. Though, he's at the border and should be safe when he crosses the river... right?

Well, they do live in a place that had rather scarce human population pre-Event, and rather large horse one. She's the size of a pony, though, and has her cutie mark. I might be planning something here.

Considering their possible customs, one might ask, just how many granddaughters a khan of a horse horde would have?

[Seeking Dusk]

Congrads, Vsevolod. You've been kicked out of a town before you could even arrive. That's almost a new record. Helga continues to get better though. That's a good sign for her, but a disappointing mark for the societies. I suppose I can understand why they couldn't devote a lot of their limited resources to trying to rehabilitate a Wild.

[Alkarasu]

7056737
Wait, what? What town?
If you mean Yelets, that's the town he's running from. He went into it properly - heavily armed and covered in blood of his enemies and his friend.

As for the Wild, well, they've spent hundreds of years occasionally eating ponies (the part with the crops is probably a superstition, though). That tends to leave a mark.

[Celefin]

Welcome back Vsevolod, your friend deep **** was eagerly awaiting your return.
A flightless native herd-pegasus thief on the run -that's scared to death of pony-eating, witchcraft-wielding feral griffons- teams up with a currently flightless feral griffon that sees the pony as walking lunchbox. And as it looks, Vsevolod -the flightless, clueless, adolescent griffon returnee- will be their leader.
So three lost chickens in a snowstorm are running from two hunting parties.
This can only end well.

[Alkarasu]

7060275 Well, from them 3, Vsevolod is the strongest (since Helga is still recovering), smartest (Ph.D., after all), and the most flight-capable (he CAN glide!). Of course, he's the leader!
I'm not sure if the girls are aware of that, though.

[bluemoon1996]

After careful consideration, there was only one word to describe the situation.

And it was very, very expletive.

Poor Vsevolod can't catch a break

And all my mind keeps imagining this Yashel Urda as cossack horses turned pony

[Alkarasu]

8328185
There are at least some influence there, since those horses lived there before the Event and some are the ancestors of the Nomads.