“Come on, it’ll be fun! I’m sure it’ll be an eye-opening experience at the very least.”
Lenny rolled his eyes as he followed his sister out of their roost and into the chilly darkness outside. “Sure. Equestria, Land of the Salad-Eaters. Totally gonna be fun. Whee.”
“Oh come on, don’t be so negative,” Audri chirped, wheeling around to pat him on the crest. “There must be more to them than that.”
He tilted his head. “Such as?”
Audri opened her beak, but she apparently needed several seconds to think before she let the first word out. “Well… to be honest, I don’t really know.”
“Aha!”
“Well, neither do you,” she retorted with a grin, “So you can’t disprove it either way. Besides, wouldn’t you like to try your talons at getting a pony girlfriend? I mean, since you haven’t had much luck with the birdies here, maybe you’d want to, umm, branch out a bit.”
Lenny didn’t quite like what Audri was insinuating, but he decided to let that slide. He had much more important things to do, like convincing her to drop this ridiculous plan.
“Maybe we can do this another time. I need to see Master Arnott about—”
“I heard the jerk refused to recommend you to the Guild,” she interrupted.
“Well, he’s not really a je—”
Audri hissed in distaste. “Yes he is, the old buzzard. You’re a pretty good hunter, and since we’re all from the same clan that’s the only logical explanation left. You’ll eventually find someone else to give you a recommendation.” She then grinned and added, “But in the meantime, you can take a couple of days off in Ponyland to relax and maybe have some fun. I’ve got a friend who knows her way around the place and owes me a favour.”
Lenny huffed. “Fine. But I’ll blame you when I get back all bony, starving and featherless because ponies don’t stock real food like sensible folk.”
“Heh. Somehow, I don’t think that’ll happen, but I’ll be sure to have some grilled salmon ready for you when you get back, just in case” she said.
He gave her a noncommittal grunt.
She nodded and spread her wings. “Now let’s go. We need to be there by sunrise.”
Cape Pike was the closest point of Griffonia’s landmass to Equestria – a triangular, rocky cliff spearheading several hundred metres into the sea like its namesake. Some griffons used it as the starting point for solo flights because it was easier to find the best air currents to ride over to Equestria, and his designated guide apparently was one of them.
Lenny spotted the golden-brown griffon basking in the sunrise at the edge of the cliff and followed Audri’s descent. They spiralled downwards, careful not to avoid getting carried away by the strong winds, and landed just as the griffon rose to greet them.
“Heya, Gilda!” Audri called out.
“Sup.” Gilda dipped her head in recognition. And then, as she turned his way, he found himself gazing into her brilliant, amber eyes.
Uh oh. Lenny felt his wing muscles tightening.
Fortunately, Gilda barely glanced at him before turning back to his sister. “So, where’s the rookie?”
“You’re looking at him,” Audri said as she put a wing over his shoulder.
This time, Gilda awarded him a lot more scrutiny, and he was quite sure that she’d noticed his wings. Her eyes flitted back and forth between him and Audri several times before she raised an eyebrow and said, “Really?”
“Yep.”
“Okay, whatever.” Gilda shrugged and gestured towards the sea with her talons. “You ready to go?”
Something about her had caught his attention. She was… slow. Well, maybe slow wasn’t the right word, but her movements – the way she turned her head and the way she carried herself – didn’t have quite the snap of a normal, alert griffon. The feline grace seemed to have migrated from her limbs and hindquarters farther up her body, to be replaced with something a little more… horsey. He could see it in the way she planted all fours firmly on the ground like trees rather than staying light on her toes.
He also realised that she’d had a bit of an accent when she’d spoken; it wasn’t very obvious, but her tongue did linger for longer than necessary on certain words. He found it rather intriguing, and a quick review of Audri’s story of how they met in town gave him the answer: Gilda had grown up in a pony boarding school.
Not that that bothered him. He kind of liked her mannerisms; they were a mixture of the familiar and strange, and of course, she was beautiful. Relatively small beak, but sharp and nicely curved like a proper predator’s, hook-like talons, fierce eyes, athletic build and noble crest of nearly pure-white feathers with a slight purple tinge – a worthy griffon if he ever saw one.
“Hey, are you listening? I said—” Gilda’s voice cut off as her eyes narrowed and darted a little to the side. Her crest bristled almost immediately after.
Yeah, she’d definitely noticed his wings.
“Are you serious?” she growled.
Better to admit than chicken out. Lenny stepped forward and grinned. “Yeah. You’re gorgeous. Sorry I got distracted.”
Lenny heard Audri’s facepaw before she backed away from him and said, “Oh fluff, there goes another one.”
Gilda spread her wings wide and towered over him. He held her gaze evenly, puffed out his chest and spread his wings to match her pose. His wingspan would never compare to hers, but there was more than one way to avoid a griffon’s scorn. After a tense half-minute of staring and sizing each other up, Gilda took a deep breath and roared right in his face. His ears rang, his vision blurred and his heart raced, but experience with courting other females had taught him to resist the urge to flee, and he managed to snarl back at her in return whilst holding his ground.
He saw surprise in her eyes for a second before she relaxed and said, “Huh, not bad. But you’re still not my type, so forget about it. Can we get back to business now?”
Lenny sighed and nodded in agreement as he folded his wings. Turned down again, but that was better than half the times females outright laughed at his advances and brushed him off like a cub who didn’t know what he was doing. “Fair enough. I’m ready to go.”
“You brought any bits?”
“I don’t need any money.” He patted the bag slung over his shoulder. “I brought some supplies.”
She looked sceptical and inclined to argue, but eventually nodded. “Suit yourself. Off we go.”
And with that, she leapt into the air. Lenny glanced at his sister, who simply shooed him off with a wing.
“Hurry. Gilda’s not exactly the type to wait,” she urged. “I’ll see you in a couple of days, maybe more if you decide you like Ponyland after all. Do try to enjoy yourself.”
He chirped his compliance and leaped over the edge of the cliff. A quick swerve sufficed for him to latch onto a strong updraft and ride it into the sky. Then, as the ground and Audri shrank away, he hollered down, “All right, but don’t count on it. See you soon!”
Gilda apparently wasn’t the type for casual conversation, either. Even after four hours into the flight, she’d barely said anything beyond giving him instructions on which air currents to take or avoid, and on how to glide more efficiently so he wouldn’t have to drown if he exhausted himself and fell out of the sky. Charming.
Thankfully, her mood seemed to improve when they had land beneath their wings once more. Maybe the warm thermals were thawing out her icy aloofness. She pitched and banked closer until their wing tips almost touched, so that they could speak without needing to shout.
“Equestria’s pretty big,” she said. “Anyplace you’d like to go?”
Lenny remembered seeing a crumpled old map of Equestria in school, but even if he could remember the names of their cities and villages, he hadn’t the slightest idea which place he’d find the least boring. Ghastly Gorge sounded like a wickedly awesome place to visit, but Audri had stressed that his trip needed to involve ponies in some way, so that probably disqualified it.
“Well, you’re the expert. I’m thinking someplace that has both ponies and… Hmm. What’s the craziest place you know?”
Gilda tilted her head. “We talking crazy as in asylum or as in exciting?”
“Both?” He highly doubted the ponies would impress him either way.
She must’ve read a lot into his doubtful tone, because she brightened up considerably as she said, “Yeah, I know a place like that. It’s another half-hour’s flight inland.”
“What’s it called?”
“Ponyville.”
Lenny blinked. “Ponyville.”
“Uh huh.”
“Creative.”
She grinned. “I know, right? Oh, and by the way, do you hunt?”
He chirped an affirmative.
“Ponies don’t like it when you kill stuff, so do it far from town. Unless ticking them off and getting locked up is part of your holiday plan.”
“Why? Do they keep them all as pets or something?”
“No, they just don’t like blood. And the killing part. Freaks them out, you know.”
That made him kind of sad. They were really missing out; there were few things that could match the thrill of stalking his prey, the adrenaline rush wearing it out in a chase, and the triumph of finally sticking it with a spear. He highly doubted the same could be said for plucking fruit or biting grass. Moreover, anything tasted ten times better if he’d sweated and bled to bring it down first. His stomach rumbled at the mere thought of roast boar…
They relapsed into silence as they soared onward to Ponyville. That gave Lenny plenty of time to take in the countryside. He found Equestria exceedingly fancy and colourful. The vegetation was so green and the lakes and rivers were as blue as the sky. Trees and grassy knolls had never looked so comfy, even from this altitude. And there were so many clouds floating over the land – huge, puffy ones that looked so much more inviting than the thin streaks back home. He even saw a rainbow glittering in the misty cascade of a waterfall. Some of the old kooks who’d been here claimed that ponies had some of the toughest armies around, but that seemed completely at odds with the nature of their homeland. There was no way this place could produce anything other than idle, contented daydreamers. If he didn’t watch himself, this place would probably turn his lean musculature and sharp plumage into flab and fluff in short order.
After some time, he realised that Gilda had begun her descent towards a settlement close to the edge of a dark forest. He put on a burst of speed to catch up, squinting against the beams of light reflecting from a towering structure in the middle of the town.
“What is that?” he asked when he’d caught up to Gilda, hovering several hundred feet above and away from the settlement’s edge.
“Not sure. Wasn’t there the last time I visited,” Gilda replied. “Anyways, have fun. I’ll be—”
“Hey, wait!” he interjected as she twisted round to fly away. “Where are you going? Aren’t you supposed to take me in there?”
“I promised Audri I’d take you to Equestria and back. It doesn’t include giving you a personal tour through your town of choice.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder, pointing it towards a low mountain surrounded by forest in the distance. “I’ll be hanging out near the peak. Come find me when you’re ready to leave this joint.”
Is there something you’re trying to avoid in there? He’d detected a hint of resentment or fear in her voice, but decided that she probably wouldn’t take too kindly to his poking around in matters that didn’t concern him.
So he turned back to Ponyville and began his slow spiral towards an afternoon of boredom. “Okay. I’ll see you later, I guess.”
“Hey, Lenny,” Gilda called out.
“What?” He craned his neck around.
“Avoid the pink one. You’ll know why when you see it.”
The pink one?
Somehow, he got the feeling that her grin was born of equal parts anticipation, glee, and pity on his behalf. The sort of look that people had when they expected something to go hilariously wrong for someone else.
Lenny snorted. Bring it on. He knew his way around difficult situations.
He landed on the outer side of the river that formed the eastern boundary for the town and sauntered over the bridge into the settlement proper. No guards attempted to stop him, and a quick search revealed no sentries on watch. Unless they had hidden themselves well from his normally keen eyes, he felt certain that no pony was aware that an outsider – and a potentially dangerous one, at that – had entered their town. Had he tried the same with a griffon village, he’d have a dozen spears and crossbows trained on him by now.
Not that he held ponies in high esteem to begin with, but that did not speak well about their sensibilities. If he’d been so inclined, at this rate he probably could have set half of their needlessly fancy homes on fire before someone put an end to his nonsense.
What could they be so preoccupied with that they couldn’t spare anyone to keep watch over their territory?
He picked up the pace as he made his way into town. The reflective structure that had nearly blinded him earlier turned out to be a crystalline castle perched rather precariously on top of a massive tree trunk. A fortress, perhaps? Maybe he’d been too quick to judge them, after all. Any worthy leader always had a defensive structure ready, whether artificial or natural. That would probably be the best place to meet someone noteworthy.
Lenny met his first pony after fifty or so paces ahead. A female, if he wasn’t mistaken. Pinkish-purple hair, pale yellow body, green eyes. And a tattoo of some sort of flower on her rump. Busy watering clusters of flowering plants that matched her tattoo almost perfectly. He slowed down to observe her, careful not to stare directly lest she take it as a challenge. She eventually noticed him and looked up from her work with a smile forming on her face, but it died off rather quickly.
Not good. He tried smiling back; someone once mentioned that ponies preferred those who did.
Her pupils shrank as she stared at him. Slowly, she bent down to pick up her watering can with her mouth, and then sidled towards the entrance of her house. Her eyes never left him. She pushed the slightly ajar door open with one hind leg and plodded in backwards. Then, once she in the safety of the shadows, she slammed the door shut.
Interesting…
Ponies loved staring at newcomers, it seemed. Mothers hushed their children and herded them inside when he approached, and he could feel their gazes lingering on him even after he’d gone past them, on his way to the fortress. Male and female alike kept their distance, and some even crowded together like frightened sheep before a predator. That lightened his mood, but only a little. So far, they’d done nothing to change his mind about ponies. He sighed and carried on.
Lenny happily noted that ponies were at least capable of behaving sensibly when they weren’t focused on a stranger in their midst. The street grew more crowded the farther in he went, and past a certain point, there were too many ponies going about their business for any one of them to make a fuss of his presence and raise the tension in the air. A big guy lumbered past him, dragging along a cart laden with fruits of all kinds. Further up ahead, wooden stalls lined both sides of the street with dozens of ponies milling about or conversing with those at their stands.
I’m in a market, he realised.
A myriad of scents assaulted his nostrils. Sweet, sour, watery fresh, acrid, musky… far too many to identify. And the colours! He’d never before seen fruits and vegetables with such intense hues of green, yellow, red, purple and orange. The same could be said of the ponies themselves, who came in every colour of the rainbow, often in combinations of at least two or three. Some had horns whilst others had wings, and those with neither tended to be stockier. Unicorns, pegasi and earth ponies, he recalled. Some haggled over prices, others chatted with friends and still others shouted out their wares or went peddling around.
“Delicious apples! Come and get yer delicious apples here!”
“Quills and inks, the best a student can get!”
“Nopony has as many friends as the mare with many cheeses!”
He grew a little lightheaded as he brushed past individuals in the crowd, lost in a sea of colours, sounds and scents. Griffon markets might’ve had meat and weaponry going for them, but the ponies sure had them beat where colour, smell and artistic crafts was concerned. Lenny had to admit that he liked it.
“Hey, buddy!” said a male voice uncomfortably close from behind. “You look like a guy who knows what a mare likes, and what better way to a mare’s heart than—”
Lenny felt pressure on his shoulder and whirled around in an instant. He swept a hind leg low to trip his would-be assailant, slammed a foreleg into his chest and then pinned him to the ground as he spread his wings wide, ready to take to the air if necessary.
“Whoa, what the hay!” the blue earth pony yelped as he lay hyperventilating under Lenny’s weight. “Why’d you hit me? I was just trying to sell you some flowers, not kick you in the back!”
Lenny blinked and saw bundles of flowers scattered about them. The male was telling the truth. “Then why didn’t you just say so instead of touching me?” he growled.
“I—what?” The male blinked. “I just tapped you on the shoulder. You’re the one who acted as if I’d clubbed you or something. Now please let me up!”
Lenny hissed but allowed him to get up. He still kept his wings out and ready as the blue pony rose, groaning, and hurriedly picked at his scattered flowers.
“Dude, aren’t you going to apologise? He didn’t mean to do… whatever you thought he was trying to do,” someone nearby said.
Lenny shot a glare in the general direction of the voice, and the throng of ponies that had surrounded him took a collective step back. Almost immediately, he regretted his aggressive response. Of course ponies wouldn’t know that only mothers and sisters had the privilege of such intimate contact. He’d been terribly unfair, treating the flower peddler like a rival who’d pounced on him.
He turned to apologise to the blue pony, but found that he’d already fled the scene, leaving a trail of petals and trodden leaves in his wake.
Well, if he doesn’t want the apology… I suppose I should go. I’ve had enough of this place.
He turned to leave, but they had him surrounded. A hundred or so eyes of different colours, all staring at him. Some ponies seemed more confused than anything whilst others watched him like curious cubs. Most of them periodically glanced around and shifted in place, but a few had also bunched up like quivering prey, seeking safety in numbers. But this time, Lenny did not feel like a predator. His heart raced as he spun around, trapped in a sea that had become a tempest. His wings had locked up. He couldn’t fly.
A part of him resided in those ponies, for some unfathomable reason. He saw it. Especially the nervous and frightened ones. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it, but the connection with these equines persisted. Being amongst them just felt right, somehow. Not in the middle of the crowd’s gaze, but by their side. And the feeling had little to do with the awkwardness of being the centre of attention. More like the desire to be part of a clan. Or a herd, in their case.
He chuckled. What am I thinking? Griffons don’t belong to herds!
“Mister, are you okay? You don’t look so good.”
“Maybe he’s had too much cider.”
“Should we get help?”
“What’s up with the face paint? Does he—”
Lenny turned to face the direction from which he’d entered Ponyville, crouched low and snarled at the ponies blocking his way. That gave him the desired response; they parted and allowed him to dash out of town quickly as his legs could carry him.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid featherbrain!” he muttered just before collapsing under a shady tree off the road outside of Ponyville. His little jaunt to Equestria was a disaster. He wanted nothing more than to go home, where people knew their manners and a griffon didn’t have to worry about acting like a griffon. Once his heart stopped beating like mad, he’d go looking for Gilda.
But as he lay down in the shade to catch his breath, a little voice at the back of his mind told him that no griffon would give up so easily, even if that task involved socialising with silly ponies. And after all that enthusiasm Audri had shown in setting up this little excursion for him, he had no intention of disappointing her without trying his hardest.
Lenny shut his eyes and sighed, imagining the tension leaving him in a puff of noxious breath. He then tucked his head under a wing to shut out the world. Listening to his heartbeat and breathing in the darkness always soothed him, and after a few minutes he felt sufficiently calm to consider trying again. He just needed to be a little more careful in his approach, though what exactly that entailed, he hadn’t much of a clue. The ponies were just too… unsettling. Most of them had neither feline grace nor avian nobility, but they all possessed a down-to-earth solidarity that appealed to a tiny part of him.
Equine’s the word.
He sat on his haunches with his back to Ponyville, mulling it over. However, he soon ended up paying more attention to his surroundings than the task underwing. Ponies aside, he liked the cool grass, refreshing breeze and the babble of the river. The greenery pleased him, more so than the rugged scrublands of Griffonia.
A rustle of grass and leaves from behind alerted him. Lenny tensed, but kept still and waited. A moment later, he heard some rustling far too loud for the breath of wind that happened to accompany it. Too heavy for a critter, either.
“I can hear you,” he growled without turning around. “What do you want?”
Something small and light purple pranced into his field of vision – a juvenile unicorn, probably school-aged. She had pale golden hair and yellow eyes, a pair of satchels hanging on each side of her body, and the biggest, most enthusiastic grin he’d seen all day. Cute, too. For a non-griffon, anyway.
“You heard me? But I was so quiet!” she squeaked, plopping onto her haunches a good three or four strides away from him. “Are you like a superhero? Do you have super-hearing or something? Because usually nopony can hear me coming. Mom says so.”
Nice. At least she knows how to respect personal space.
He shook his head. “No, I’m not a hero. Not by anyone’s reckoning, anyway. I’m jus—”
“I’ve never seen you around before. You’re not from around here, are you?” She then gasped and flattened her ears a little. “Oh, I just interrupted you. Sorry. Err, could you continue, please?”
“I’m just visiting. It’s my first time in Equestria.”
Her eyes widened. “Really? Umm, okay. What’s your name? I’m Dinky Doo.”
“Lenny.”
She nodded eagerly. “And? Is that your whole name?”
He frowned a little. Family names were seldom given to strangers, lest a rival discover and seek potential mates in the family, but he supposed that there wouldn’t be any harm in revealing that to Dinky. She probably wouldn’t know what to do with that information anyway. Besides, maybe ponies considered it impolite to withhold full names from one another, and he’d made enough blunders in equine company for one day already.
“I’m Lenny Redtail of Clan Skarhold.”
“Wow, that’s so cool. Just like in Daring Do and the Griffon’s Goblet. I read that last year; it was the best story ever!” she gushed, bouncing on her rump like she could barely contain her excitement. And then she paused in mid-bounce, a frown forming on her face. “But, wait... Isn’t that a griffon’s name? Why do you have a griffon’s name?”
He felt his tail twitch at the unspoken implication, but he kept his expression neutral and his voice even. “Because I’m a griffon?”
She tilted her head away to cast a sidelong glance at him, narrowing her eyes as she scrutinised him from crest to tail-tip. Then, one of her eyebrows shot up as she drawled, “Riiight. Are you sure about that?”
Here we go again. Lenny took in a deep breath and let out a long sigh. “I grew up in the Starling Scarps, Western Griffonia. I’ve completed the Hunter’s Rite, I earn my keep in Clan Skarhold, and I’m the son of Kella Redtail and brother to Audri Redtail.” He held his chin up and spread his wings. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m a griffon.”
“But, but you’re a pegasus,” she insisted.
He hissed. “Doesn’t make a difference. I’m still Lenny Redtail of Skarhold, and the last one to try to convince me otherwise got a cracked beak for his trouble.”
Dinky blinked. “Ooh, so you’re adopted. How did that come about?”
He shrugged. “Don’t know. And so long as I’ve got a clan and a home in Griffonia, I don’t need to know or care.”
“But don’t you want to know your real parents?” she asked.
“Not really. My real mother is the one who raised me.”
Dinky tapped her chin. “Hmm, okay. I guess that explains why you act so weird. You really gave Mister Bloomer a fright back there, you know.”
“Hey, I’m not weird,” he protested. “You only think so because you’ve never seen a griffon before.”
She grinned and shook her head. “Yes I have, and she wasn’t weird because she was a griffon. But you aren’t, and it’s funny to see you act like one.”
He rubbed his temples and groaned. “Do we really need to keep coming back to that? Anyway, what’s so weird about what I do?”
“Hee! Are you kidding? Let’s start with this: why do you keep moving your head like this?” So saying, she began bobbing her head back and forth in a most ridiculous manner. “You look like a pigeon.”
Dinky was lucky she was a cute juvenile, otherwise Lenny would’ve tackled her there and then. “I’m not a pigeon. We don’t move like that!” he snapped.
She giggled. “Yes you do. A little. And you sometimes click and chirp like a cricket or a bird when you talk, which makes sense, I guess, since griffons are part eagle. Except that it doesn’t for you, because you’re really a pegasus.”
Do I do that? He’d never really thought about it. But then again, maybe that’s why ponies sounded a little off to him. They didn’t give the right verbal cues that he’d come to expect from normal folk. Too smooth and too drawn-out, especially when combined with their ponderous body language. Dinky had a point; she just didn’t know that ponies sounded and acted weird to him, too. But arguing with a child seemed like a pointless exercise when the only reward was to sooth his bruised ego at the cost of hers, so he decided to leave well enough alone.
“And you’re a guy. Why are you wearing makeup?”
He blinked. “What makeup?”
She made a circular gesture around her eye. “Then what’s that? It doesn’t look like part of your coat.” Her eyes then darted over to one of his wings, and she pointed to it as well, saying, “And I think you put something on your feathers too.”
Lenny raised his wing and clicked his tongue when he saw the reddened tips of his bluish-grey feathers. “Oh, these aren’t makeup. They’re clan markings.”
“Do all griffons get them? All in that colour?”
“Well, most of us. The ones who aren’t outcast.” He pointed at the paint around his eyes. “We’re supposed to get them when we turn fifteen. Skarhold’s markings are red around the eyes and wing tips. The other clans have different patterns and colours. Eyrie’s colour is black and paints only the crest and tail, for example.”
Dinky nodded. “Cool. Ponies do that too, you know. I’ve seen some ponies dyeing their mane every week, and sometimes some of the grown-ups even paint over their cutie marks. Which is just silly, if you ask me.”
“What’s a cutie mark?”
Lenny realised he must’ve said something incredibly inappropriate, because Dinky stared at him for a full second before gasping and covering her mouth with both forelegs. “Oh my gosh, how could you not know?” she cried. “It’s only, like, the most important thing in your life, ever!”
She then leaned to the side, as if trying to look at something behind him, then scooted closer to flatten a tuft of grass in order to peer at his flank. Specifically, at what Audri liked to call his ‘magic butt tattoo’: a pair of primary feathers crossed over a hunter’s spearhead.
Wait. “That’s a cutie mark?”
“Yup!”
Lenny nearly gagged. No griffon would ever be caught dead calling a tattoo that. He could already imagine the others laughing their tails off if they ever found out. He’d never hear the end of it.
“So what does it mean?” Dinky’s eyes were practically glued to his flank. “What’s your special talent?”
So, ponies get their talents magically illustrated on their flanks whether they like it or not? He’d never asked for his magical tattoo, and he could think of a few guys who’d probably die of embarrassment if griffons were cursed with such a trait. Lucky for him then, that he had talents worth showing. “I’m a hunter. I guess that’s what the spear represents.”
“Nice! That sounds…” Dinky blinked and looked at him in confusion. “Wait, you mean you actually hunt animals? Like in Daring Do?”
Lenny had no idea if these so called Daring Do books had painted an apt picture of his people for Dinky, but she had proven herself reasonably level-headed so far, and she’d displayed enough courage in approaching him when other ponies had stopped at fear or distrust. He owed her some respect, and she could probably stomach the truth. Cubs sheltered with lies and half-truths seldom became worthy griffons, anyway.
“Well, we do have to eat, you know. Our food just happens to run away from us.”
Dinky’s gaze gradually sank towards the ground until she was staring at grass. Lenny allowed her to wrestle with her thoughts in silence and took the opportunity to enjoy the peaceful countryside instead. He could get used to this.
After a minute, Dinky finally looked up and shrugged. “So long as you don’t hurt them too much, I suppose that’s okay, then.”
Lenny’s stomach rumbled in agreement, and because the stars had somehow aligned that day, Dinky’s belly saw fit to make some noise at the same time. They stared at each other for a moment before he cracked a smile. That got a nervous giggle out of Dinky.
“You might want to work on that smile,” she said. “You look like you’re going to eat somepony.”
That might explain the female’s reaction earlier... He shrugged. “It never bothered anyone back home.”
“I’m hungry,” she declared as she unslung her bags and began rummaging through them. “I think Mom packed extra today, so would you like anything? I can share. Mom says it’s good to share with your friends.”
Lenny blinked. I have a friend, now? Just like that?
It took him a moment to find his voice again. “Thanks.”
“Hmm?” Dinky’s muffled voice rose out of the bag covering most of her face.
“I mean, thanks for the offer, but I’ll be okay. I brought my own food,” he said as he pulled out a strip of jerky. A good whiff of the meat set his belly rumbling again, and he began chewing without further ceremony, savouring the rich, salty flavour.
He heard a soft thump and found Dinky staring at him again. She’d apparently dropped her bag.
“Yeh?” he mumbled through his mouthful.
“What are you doing? Why are you eating meat?” she cried, throwing her forelegs up in the air.
He quickly swallowed and raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t we establish that already? I’m a hunter. I eat what I catch.”
“I thought you just hunted for your griffon family or something. I didn’t think you’d put that gross stuff in your mouth! You’ll get sick. I know because Mom’s worked in a hospital before.”
He shook his head stuffed the rest of the strip into his mouth. “Well, now you know otherwise. I won’t get sick so long as I eat enough grass daily to go with it. Also, it’s not gross; it’s delicious.” He licked his lips and patted his belly in emphasis. “I don’t know how you ponies do without it.”
“Because we have plenty of stuff that’s actually delicious,” she scoffed. “Like… like apples!”
Lenny felt his stomach churn as the word brought suppressed memories to his attention. He shuddered. “I tried apples once. They’re bitter, sticky, and they make your mouth drier than sand. How can you even think of eating them?”
Dinky frowned. “Apples aren’t bitter. What kind of apples have you been eating?” She reached into one of her bags and pulled out a bright red, shiny fruit.
He tilted his head. “That’s not an apple.” They were supposed to be yellow-green and often had lumpy blisters on their skin.
“Well, I don’t know about Griffonland, but over here, this is an apple,” she asserted with an undertone of finality. She then offered it to him. “You should try it.”
“Umm…” His eyes warred with his memories over the supposed palatability of the fruit before him. Its lustrous redness made his mouth water.
“Come on, it’s nice!” she insisted. “Don’t be a chicken.”
Oh, so that’s your game, huh? Well, two can play at that. He grinned. “Okay, let’s trade, then. I’ll eat an apple if you try some meat.”
Dinky’s mouth twisted into a grimace. “But I—”
“Don’t be a chicken.”
Her eyes narrowed for a moment before she held up the apple. “You first.”
Lenny took the apple and sniffed at it. Slightly waxy with a hint of sweetness beneath. He took one bite, and instantly froze. Nothing could have prepared him for the crunchy, watery-sweet explosion of flavour in his mouth. It took his brain a while to straighten out and get back on track, but he eventually chewed, and the firm flesh yielded another burst of juicy goodness. After swallowing, he licked his lips and eagerly chomped on it again.
It was all he could do to suppress a moan. By the great Sky Mother, why aren’t we growing these in Griffonia? Whoever named those local abominations ‘apples’ was an idiot. Either that, or someone must have placed a curse on our trees.
“Yes!” Dinky pumped one foreleg into the air and went prancing in circles around him. “Didn’t I tell you it was good? I was right, wasn’t I?”
“Yeah, yeah, you weren’t kidding,” he said after swallowing the last bite. He then wiped away juice that had dribbled out of his mouth and retrieved another strip of jerky from his bag. “Now it’s your turn.”
“Aww, do I have to?”
Lenny chirped and held it out to her in response. He could tell from the tension in her breathing and intent gaze that, in spite of her earlier protests, a part of her wanted to try the forbidden. She’s got spirit; that much is evident. Had she been born a griffon, she could’ve been the little sister he always wished he had.
Dinky inched forward like a wary snake and opened her mouth. Ever so slowly, she manoeuvred until she had positioned the dark red strip between her upper and lower teeth, separated only by a little air. She scrunched her eyes shut and moved her jaw, but didn’t come quite close enough to making contact. Her tongue had retreated as far as it could into her mouth as well.
Lenny sniggered. “Just chow down and be done with it.”
“Nggh!” she replied, waving at him to forestall any further encouragement.
But after another three or four false starts, she withdrew and shook her head. “I can’t do it. It just smells so yucky and there’s too much of it.”
Lenny scratched his head. Maybe he could help with that. Audri had gotten him to assist her with some of the village cubs before; sometimes they just needed their food in a form that they could more easily digest.
He thumped on his belly and worked his throat muscles back and forth, until he managed to bring a lump of apple and jerky back up. A little sour, now, but certainly a lot easier for a youngster to keep down. He then pushed it to the tip of his tongue and stuck it out in offering.
When she made no move to accept, he motioned for her to open her mouth again and waggled his tongue.
Dinky’s face momentarily contorted into a mixture of horror, disgust, confusion and mirth. Her mouth somehow managed to curl up and down at the same time, revealing teeth that were pressed together in a grimace. Her snout had wrinkled up. One eye half-squinted whilst the other remained wide open, and one of her eyebrows must have disappeared into her hair.
“Eww, I’m not eating your puke, I’m not a seagull! Ew ew ew!” she squealed as she averted her eyes and blocked him from view with a foreleg.
Lenny brought his tongue back in, gulped down the offending lump and facepawed. Okay, so ponies don’t regurgitate food for their young. Good to know. It would make a good prank, though, if he ever got that far with pony relations.
“Sorry.”
Dinky coughed politely and nodded. “That’s okay.” She then covered her mouth and giggled. “See? You are a little weird. Sorry I didn’t try your food, though. It was just too much.”
Well, there’s always a next time for adventurous stuff. He smiled. “That’s all right. I still think you’re the most interesting pony in town.”
“Yay!” She bounced around for a few seconds before continuing, “Say, I think need to go home now. Mom might be getting worried. Would you like to meet her? Maybe you could have dinner with us later. Since you said you’ve never been here before, there are so many things I want to show you!”
Lenny hesitated. He still had the market debacle fresh in his mind. But if he had Dinky around to make sure he didn’t make any more social blunders, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Even if it didn’t work out, at the very least he’d be able to tell Audri that he tried to connect with ponies.
“Lead the way,” he said.
“Okie dokie, let’s go!” Dinky spun round and sauntered off, but not before plucking another apple out of her bag to munch along the way.
As they crossed the bridge back into Ponyville, movement in the river caught his eye. He leaned over the edge, wondering what sort of fish dwelled there and whether they were worth catching, when he saw his reflection in a stagnant portion of the river close to the bank. Bluish-grey coat, tan hair that he’d groomed into the closest possible resemblance of a feathered crest, and light blue eyes around which he’d painted the red streaks of his clan markings.
Frowning, he turned his gaze back in Dinky’s direction and felt an upwelling of longing from deep down. He saw a part himself in the little pony, in her cheerful gait, in the way she confidently went about her business with the utmost assurance that she belonged without the need to constantly prove herself. And she’d done him the honour of calling him a friend.
He growled to himself. What was I thinking? He had already connected with a pony. Failure to acknowledge that would be terribly ungrateful of him, and quite possibly grounds for an honour battle if her mother had been a griffon. He looked back at his reflection and sighed. And maybe the same could be said of denying the similarities between him and Dinky. Between him and the inhabitants of Ponyville. He might be a griffon, but that didn’t mean he had to be an outsider to his equine heritage. No one said he couldn’t be part of a clan and herd at the same time.
I suppose I could stay in Ponyville for a few days. I could use the education.
His steps felt considerably lighter as he followed her back into town.
“Oh, I almost forgot to ask!” Dinky whirled round with a huge grin on her face. “Has Pinkie Pie thrown you a welcome party yet?”
Lenny paused as something nudged him from the back of his mind. “Did… did you say Pinkie Pie?”
He heard a distant, whistling noise that rapidly grew into a thunderous whoosh. Before he could even finish turning his head in its general direction, a wall of wind slammed into him and nearly sent him sprawling onto the ground.
“Hi! Did somepony say my name?”
Lenny squawked and leaped back when he found himself nose to nose with a shockingly pink female earth pony. Where’d she come from?
She giggle-snorted. “Oh, sorry about that. Didn’t mean to startle you. I just—” After a fleeting pause, she gasped for a full three seconds, hovering in the air despite her lack of wings, before she settled back on the ground and began staring at him. Then, slowly, a great big toothy grin formed on her face as her pupils twinkled and dilated to impossible proportions.
“Oh my gosh, I knew that there was somepony new in town today!” she gushed.
He blinked, and then squawked again when she appeared right by his side without any evidence of having crossed the space between there and her original position.
“You need to give me a moment; I’ve got to send out the invitations. We’ve got to get your welcome party ready!” In the next split second, she had somehow moved to his other side and said, “Don’t you worry, it’ll be the best welcome party you’ve ever had, ever!”
He took a step back from her. Whereas most ponies had ponderous mannerisms compared to the snappier movement of griffons, this pony went so far in the other direction that she’d overtaken his people by several miles. It bordered on hysteria. Scratch that; even manic insanity would barely fit the task of describing her nature. And her eyes… an entire village could drown in their depths. Maybe it was a good thing that Equestria was so nice, for if ponies ever decided to turn individuals like her to war, nothing would stand in their way.
He tried turning to Dinky for help, but she only gave him an eager nod, a smile and an encouraging gesture with her foreleg. And in that moment, Gilda’s words came back to him with utter clarity. “Avoid the pink one. You’ll know why when you see it.”
Lenny turned back to the smiling pink menace and gulped. He might have just begun learning what it meant to be part of a herd, but now he knew what it meant to be prey.
