> Your Better Half
>  by Jay Bear v2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> The Lion's Task
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

When I transferred to the School of Friendship, I didn’t think it’d be too exciting. Sure, Princess Twilight Sparkle would be our headmare, and the Element Bearers would be our teachers, but it’d still be a school. Maybe they’d tell us about their friendship adventures, and maybe I’d get to meet some students from other kingdoms, but I figured it’d still be a lot like Ms. Cheerilee’s classroom.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
On the first day, before classes even began, I met a dragon, a changeling, a yak, a hippogriff, and a griffon. We all played hooky around lunch time, ran off to the Castle of the Two Sisters, got attacked by puckwudgies, and started an international incident that could have plunged our six kingdoms into a world war. And the next week was just as wild: I got the lead role in a play!
As Ponyville’s weather team wound down summer, it felt like all the craziness in my life would wind down too. I was looking forward to a peaceful autumn of studying and hanging out with my new friends.
I couldn’t have been more wrong. Again.
The Cozy Kitty Café had opened in Ponyville earlier in the summer. It was like Sugar Cube Corner, a place to unwind with cool drinks and fresh-baked pastries, but you could also play with cats. I had been to Sugar Cube Corner more times than I could count, so I decided to give it a shot.
I expected the new place to be a feline paradise, and that was exactly what I found inside. Shelves and little stairways lined the walls, while cardboard scratching strips hung from the moulding. Carpet-covered towers rose up across the floor. Small dens hid in secluded corners with cat toys scattered around their mouths.
What I didn’t expect was to find a griffon, in a cat costume, on the floor, playing with the cats.
And I definitely didn’t expect that griffon to be Gallus.
But there he was, lying on his back, with a brown vest over his body, puffy fake cat paws at the end of each leg, and a pair of matching brown ears hanging from his head. He swished his tail, delighting kittens at his hindquarters, while older cats nestled in his wings and on his belly. One shy cat watched him from a den, but Gallus dangled a treat and whispered to her in a squeaky voice.
I’d only known Gallus for a few weeks by then. Even though he was my friend, any time I thought about him I also remembered the stories my dad used to tell me about griffons.
Grover emerged from the polarosto’s den, fresh gore upon his beak, the Idol of Boreas clutched in his claws, and his claim to the crown of Griffonstone assured, he’d say one night. Another night it was, Then Grisel seized Prince Cheval and soared high over the colt-prince’s earth pony soldiers. She taunted them, saying that if any of them dared to raise a spear at her, she’d let go, and Prince Cheval would rejoin his troops on the ground with terrible speed.
Those stories were what got me to act so calmly when I first bumped into Gallus. Griffons were fierce, so if I wanted to get along with one of them, I had to be cool and confident.
At the cat café, though, Gallus wasn’t fierce. He was playful, sweet, gentle…
Cute.
This daydream came to me, fully formed. Instead of saying hi like I planned to, I would lie down beside him and rub my muzzle against his soft neck. He would scoop me up with his powerful arms, running his claws through my mane, and snuggle me into his warm wings. Then he’d sing to me with the same sweet voice he was using with the shy cat.
“Cat’s in the cradle and the moon is blue,” he sang, “little cubs fly without any clues. When you coming home—“
“Gallus! We’ve got a customer,” said a new voice. A mare with a bag of kibble balanced on her back trotted past us. “You can’t keep hogging all of the kitties.”
His voice snapped back to normal. “Funny, I thought you were paying me to…“
He tilted his head around, I guess to look at her, but he saw me first. His eyes went wide.
I gave him a meek wave.
Gallus nudged the two cats napping on his belly onto the floor and rolled onto his four legs. He walked up to me, his tail slashing through the air, until we were muzzle-to-beak. It would have intimidated me if two kittens hadn’t been behind him trying to pounce on his flicking tail.
“Sandbar, if you even think about telling anyone…” he growled. One of his paw-covered claws jabbed my chest.
That was the Gallus I’d gotten to know, and the one I knew how to handle.
“Whoa, easy! I’m only here to grab a drink. I won’t tell a soul if you don’t want me to.” I brushed away his claw. “So you’re working here?”
Gallus rolled his eyes. “No, I just dress up in this costume and wander around shops for fun.”
I chuckled. “How do you like the job?”
“It pays.”
“Is it fun, though?”
“Like I said, it pays. That’s what counts.”
His answer puzzled me. Did he need money? I didn’t know much about Gallus’s homelife except that his grandpa ran Griffonstone, so I figured he could ask his family for help if he needed it. Maybe griffon culture didn’t work that way, though.
Gallus gave me a suspicious look. “Are you thinking of getting a job here?”
“Oh, no, I can’t. My mom’s seriously allergic to cats. After I get home, I’ll have to take a long shower to wash off the cat dander. I’d probably have to move out if I worked here.”
“Bummer about her allergies,” he said. “Anyway, my shift is almost over. While I’m still on the clock…”
Gallus reached down and plucked a tiny black kitten from the floor. Her bulbous yellow eyes glistened as he held her up to me. “Welcome to Cozy Kitty Café,” he said in a monotone. “Here, have a kitty. Her name is Slayer.”
I took Slayer with one foreleg. A tag on her collar read, “Cuddles.”
“And I’m out. See ya!” Gallus turned, swatting my muzzle with his bushy tail, and started to walk away. His tail hair tickled my nostrils, and I had to hold back a sneeze.
“Wait a sec,” I said while Slayer/Cuddles burrowed deeper into the crook of my leg. “Do you want to hang out since you’re off work?”
He paused. “I thought you just got here.”
“Sure, and you can hang out with me here.”
“I can’t,” Gallus said with a head-shake. “You gotta pay just to be here.”
That was true, the cover charge was ten bits. I had enough extra bits to cover him, but something in his look told me he wouldn’t accept it.
The mare from earlier trotted past us again, this time with a basket of cat toys on her back. “Go ahead, Gallus, stay as long as you want.”
He squinted at her. “You mean you want me to work overtime, or…”
“Nope! Just hang out with your friend, no charge. Call it an employee discount.”
Gallus kept squinting at her as she left, as if he didn’t believe her.
“Cool!” I set down Slayer/Cuddles to scratch an itch behind my ear. “So you’re going to stay?”
“I…guess. Yeah.”
His ears were low, and he seemed distracted.
“I’ll get us some drinks,” I said. Drinks would help us both unwind. “I heard the fizzy ciders here are great.”
I trotted towards a wooden bar on the side of the room. If Gallus said anything in reply, I didn’t hear it. Then again, I wasn’t paying much attention to him because, after a few hoof steps, I realized I’d talked myself into getting drinks with Gallus, like a date.
It wasn’t a date though. We were just two friends getting drinks. I didn’t even know if he was interested in stallions. Then again, we’d have the whole afternoon to talk. That was a lot of time to find interesting things to say. We could spend some of it getting to know each other, maybe find out what he thought of me…
“You okay there, kid?”
My daze broke, and I found myself sitting on my rump in front of a worried-looking bartender. Two bottles of fizzy cider stood on a tray between us.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I told her. “Why do you ask?”
“Because you’ve been sitting there for a whole minute scratching your neck.”
My back leg, which had been rubbing a spot under my jaw, froze. I’d lost track of what I was doing. I grinned sheepishly at her, stood up, took the tray with my mouth, and left. My cheeks and neck tingled with embarrassment.
While I trotted back into the café’s main room, I started thinking about what Gallus and I could talk about on our…not-date. I had a lot of questions about him and griffons in general. Asking Gallus about all the fierce griffons my dad had told me about was a bad idea, but maybe his parents had told him more heroic stories. That seemed like a good place to start.
Gallus had moved to a nook near the back, where he was taking off his costume in front of a rack. He’d already removed his front paws and ears, and was hanging up his vest, but his costume back paws were still on. It struck me as funny. It made sense that a pony working here would need to wear costume paws on their front and back legs, but Gallus’s back legs already ended in cat paws. Couldn’t the café have made an exception for him?
A shadow in the corner grew legs, a tail, and two bulbous yellow eyes. Slayer/Cuddles must have decided she needed to live up to one of her names, because she ambled to me and rubbed against my front legs.
The tingling in my neck and neck flared and turned itchy. I tried to nudge Slayer/Cuddles away, but she persisted. To prove she was sticking around, she booped my nose with her tail.
As soon as she touched me, my nostrils burned. I jerked my head up, but it was too late. My muzzle contorted, my eyes slammed shut, and my lungs sucked in air.
A sneeze exploded out of me. Fizz sprayed into my nostrils, forcing me to sneeze again. I fell to the floor rump-first.
“Dude!” Gallus shouted.
I opened my watering eyes. Cider had flown everywhere, drenching Gallus and every costume hanging near him. I’d never seen him so furious. I started to apologize, but before I could, another sneeze shot through me.
“I’m so sorry,” I whimpered. My skin crawled on my neck, and I couldn’t help but scratch it. It didn’t help. “I have no idea what’s happening.”
“Are you allergic to cats or something?”
“I don’t—“ Two sneezes cut me short. “I don’t think so. My mom is, but…”
My mom had awful reactions to cats. One time, a stray cat wandered to our house, and my mom found him first. Right away, she’d broken out into hives and rashes, and started sneezing so much she knocked herself down…
Exactly what I was doing right then.
“Oh, horse apples.”
Gallus grabbed my shoulder. “We gotta get you out of here.”
He guided me outside, keeping me from bumping into anything. My nose kept squirming, and my skin kept crawling, but not as badly as they had at the café.
“You picked a terrific place to discover your cat allergies,” Gallus said as he helped me lay down and patted my back. I arched up a little, savoring the feel of his claws until he pulled away.
He stood and took a few steps back. “I better leave you alone, unless you’re a glutton for punishment.”
“Patting my back felt good, actually.” I shifted my back towards him a little, offering it to his claws.
“Nah, I meant your allergies.”
“What about my allergies?”
He cocked his head to the side. “You’re allergic to cats.”
“I guess so,” I sighed.
Gallus pointed a claw at his rear.
“I’m half lion,” he said, “which means I’m half cat.”
A snicker escaped me, some part of my brain connecting how perfect it was that he’d be half cat and work at a cat café, before realization dawned. Gallus was fierce but sweet, snarky but tender, athletic but comforting. I wanted to draw him close, burrow into his feathers, and call him mine…
But getting near him set my skin on fire.
Gallus left with a wave. While my skin and muzzle finally relaxed, my heart sank.
My mom had spent years trying to do something about her allergies, visiting doctors in Ponyville, Canterlot, Manehattan, and Vanhoover, but they’d all said the same thing: allergies can’t be cured, so a pony with them had to avoid whatever set them off. That had been good enough for my mom, but it wouldn’t work for me. Even if I could avoid Gallus, one of my classmates at the School of Friendship, I didn’t want to. I began to wonder how much sneezing and hives I could tolerate.
Then I remembered something. My mom had talked to doctors all over Equestria, but she’d skipped one place right next to Ponyville: the Everfree Forest.
> The Zebra's Brew
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Everfree Forest used to be a forbidden place where danger lurked and enigmas reigned. No one entered it for fear of what dwelt within. One of its denizens, a mysterious cloaked zebra, would stalk into Ponyville when she was least expected. No one could guess at her intentions, but it was feared that she cast curses with her sphinx-like riddles.
It turns out her name is Zecora, and everyone who’s met her says she’s great. Professor Applejack’s little sister had even built a path to her hut, although it was a long hike. I got there after an hour of following signposts over logs and along narrow ledges, all the while keeping an eye out for puckwudgies or other monsters.
When I arrived, I took a moment to get my thoughts in order. Although I’d seen Zecora around Ponyville a few times, I’d never met her before. I needed to introduce myself and explain what I wanted her help with. Once I was ready, I knocked on her door.
“It seems you’ve had to trek quite far,” Zecora said as she opened it, “to make it to my home, Sandbar.”
“Hi, I’m Sand…” I began before I processed what she’d said. “Oh, uh, you know who I am?”
“The news of Twilight Sparkle’s class, and of the youth she hopes will pass, has spread north, south, sea to sea.” She smiled. “And even here, in Everfree.”
“Yeah, I guess we’re pretty well known,” I said with a nervous laugh. Even if somepony hadn’t heard about the new school, they would have read news about our antics during Friends and Family Day.
Zecora opened the door wider and beckoned me inside. “Come in! Let’s share an herbal brew, and then discuss what bothers you.”
The inside of her hut was more bizarre than anything I’d seen on my hike through the Everfree Forest. Fearsome masks hung from the walls. Jars all around me glowed in unnatural colors. Bottles dangled from roots worming their way through her hut. A cauldron bubbled in its center.
All of that scared me, but only at first. Then Zecora brought some tea with ingredients I’d never heard of, and it was the most delicious thing I’d ever tasted. As I set down the mug I had emptied in one swig, it felt like Zecora really could do the impossible. I started to have hope.
“I have bad cat allergies,” I started. “When I’m around cats, I want to scratch myself raw. The doctors in Ponyville say there’s no cure, but I wanted to ask if there’s anything you can do.”
Zecora walked to the cauldron and began stirring it. “Your chances of a cure are faint. As many find with your complaint, there’s just a single remedy. Adopt a dog and live cat-free.”
That was the answer I had worried she’d say, although imagining Gallus as half-eagle, half-dog made me smile. “This isn’t about a pet cat, though. I’m also allergic to one of my friends, Gallus, since he’s a griffon. If being around him is going to turn me into a sneezy, itchy mess…”
Then I’d never find out if he had any feelings for me.
“Then we won’t be able to hang out as much.”
Zecora eyed me through the cauldron’s steam, like she knew I’d held back something.
“Relationships should never break because you suffer chills and aches. What binds two creatures is robust. In friendship’s magic, you must trust.”
I couldn’t make sense of what she was saying until she mentioned friendship and magic. “Oh, I get it! The magic of friendship can stop a lord of chaos, or turn a whole changeling hive good, so it’s got to be strong enough to stop my allergies.”
Zecora circled her hut, picking up jars every few steps. “Though nothing equals friendship’s might, it cannot curb your lymphocytes.”
“What are lymphocytes?”
She kept going. “I’ll mix a potion, if you please, to help you with your allergies. But you must understand for sure, this potion will not be a cure.”
Her mentioning a potion got me excited, until she’d said it wouldn’t be a cure. “So what will it do?”
She took her collection to a table and began working. Herbs mashed to paste in her mortar and pestle. Fluids mixed, sending out puffs of smoke, and powders dissolved. Finally, she split the concoction into two vials.
“Each dose will last a quarter day. Your hives and sneezing will give way. Consume each vial separately as their effect works magically.” She corked both vials and passed them to me. “Allow one day between each dram. A double dose could cause bedlam.”
It wasn’t a cure, but it sounded like it’d work a lot better than anything a pony doctor could give me. A quarter day meant six hours, so I could drink one and hang out with Gallus for a whole afternoon or evening. One dose a day felt restrictive, although it was better than nothing. But why had she given me only two doses?
“When I finish these,” I asked while I tucked the vials into my saddlebags, “can I come back for more?”
“Your ailment’s known for stubbornness, and treatments lose effectiveness.” She laid a hoof on my shoulder. “Once you exhaust this potion’s store, it cannot help you anymore.”
For a moment, I just stared at her in disbelief. “You mean, after these two doses,” I said, my voice on the verge of breaking, “it won’t work again?”
Zecora nodded.
I hung my head, defeated. “That’s not fair.”
“Though time is short, it’s just enough,” she said and pulled her hoof away, “to meet and have a talk that’s tough. What follows that is what it means when friendship’s magic intervenes.”
I thanked her, although she could tell how discouraged I was, and left. Two days with Gallus, and then…
Plodding home, part of me wanted to chuck the vials as far as I could throw them. What was the point if my allergies would keep me from being with Gallus? Maybe it was better to forget about my crush. Nothing goes rotten as badly as hope.
Sunlight warmed my hide. I’d emerged from the Everfree Forest without even noticing it. Above me, a pair of pegasi sat on a cloud, laughing and teasing each other, ecstatic to be together.
Watching them, I rethought things. Zecora had given me two doses. Instead of chucking them and wallowing in misery, I could hang out with Gallus twice. Why not make that time together as awesome as possible? And, with another glance at the pegasi on their cloud, I got an idea of where we could go.
> The Eagle's Flight
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cloudsdale’s landing plaza that day would have impressed anyone. Rainbows streamed through channels along its sides, spraying colors on every pony who got close enough to the banks. Floor tiles, arranged into a mosaic of great mythical pegasi, were both as soft as clouds and as solid as a monument. Floating columns topped by enormous statues of pegasi heroes of old circled one half. Beyond them lay Cloudsdale’s heavenly metropolis.
When Gallus landed next to me, though, he didn’t pay any attention to all of that. He locked his gaze on my side.
“There’s something different about you,” he said with a wry smile. “Did you get a mane cut?”
I chuckled. I had gotten a trim that morning, but I doubted Gallus noticed. What he was really asking about were the giant butterfly wings hanging from my back.
Travel to Cloudsdale has always been tricky for an earth pony like me, but there are spells that make it possible. Most visitors get a simple cloud-walking spell and take a balloon up, but I also opted for a deluxe wing spell. If Gallus felt like flying around, I wanted to go wherever he went.
“Pretty cool, huh?” I flexed my wings to give him a better look at the pattern. I had paid extra for handsome wings with black veins lacing through a sunset orange field. “I got some practice with them this morning, in case you want to go flying around later.”
“You must have gotten some practice not sneezing around me too.”
For that, I thanked the vial I’d downed right before Gallus landed. If I told him about going to Zecora, though, I knew I’d have to tell him everything. I didn’t even want to think about it. 
“Don’t worry about my allergies,” I said with a hoof wave. “I went to a doctor about them.”
He squinted at me. “So the doc cured them?”
“Yep.”
My little white lie must have worked because he shrugged. “Cool. Anyway, what’s the plan?”
I took ahold of his shoulder—it was supple but muscular—and pointed him at a banner hanging between two columns. On it, lightning bolts from a guitar-shaped cloud formed the word, “Cirripalooza.”
“It’s a music festival!” I said. “A bunch of bands come to Cloudsdale every year and play their newest songs. I got us tickets.”
“Oh. I thought we were going to bust up a snow factory. Professor Dash made it sound fun.”
“I think she only did that so her pet tortoise wouldn’t go into hibernation, but…”
He snickered. What he’d said about Professor Dash had been a joke, which had gone over my head. I felt dumb, but I decided to ignore it. We had a music festival to get to.
We flew to Bora Stadium, a magnificent building smack dab in the center of Cloudsdale. Pegasi flocked around it, while guards above kept watch for anyone trying to sneak in. We landed at the main entrance, where a row of pillars and an enormous pediment loomed over us. As I led Gallus to the entrance, he looked over at a line of ponies buying their tickets at the box office.
“How much do these tickets cost?” he asked.
“Five bits.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Really?” 
At the box office, a pegasus slid a stack of coins to a ticket agent, and then reached into his saddlebags for more.
“Looks like they’re paying more than that,” Gallus said.
I’d actually paid fifty bits, each, but Gallus didn’t need to know that. If we only had two times to hang out, I wanted him to have fun, not worry about money.
“I got a student discount,” I said, wishing I had a better poker face, “and an early bird discount.”
His eyebrow edged up more.
“Also a bulk discount.” Before he could object again, I grabbed his front leg and pulled him through the entrance.
Inside, the sounds of chatting ponies echoed through the stadium. Its seats were already filled except for the top-most rows. We took off and grabbed a bench in a quieter section that still had a decent view of the stage below. The first band had their instruments out, while a few techs ran around checking equipment.
The ponies near us were almost all pegasi, a lot of them wearing band shirts and studded leg bands. I also saw a couple of batponies, and even spotted a pair of earth ponies and a unicorn envying my wings, but no other griffons.
I opened my saddlebags, which I’d filled with water bottles, snacks, more bits, ear plugs, and the other vial Zecora had given me. Yeah, she’d said I couldn’t take them both on the same day—although I wondered how bad it could be if I did—but I wanted to be prepared for anything. More than likely Gallus and I would go back to our dorm rooms after Cirripalooza, but there was a chance that things today would go really well. I brought the bits in case we needed to get a hotel room, and the second vial so the morning after would be as perfect as possible.
For the start of the festival, though, we only needed the ear plugs. I pulled them out and gave a pair to Gallus.
“What are these for?”
“The music could get loud. These will protect your hearing.”
Gallus scoffed. “Oh, yeah, when I think pony music, ‘loud’ is definitely the first word that comes to mind.”
“This isn’t normal pony music. The first band it is Basashi.”
“So?”
“So—“
Before I could finish, a wave of noise crashed through us, thumping in my chest like a second heartbeat.
The thing I never mentioned is that Cirripalooza wasn’t like other music festivals in Equestria. All of the bands that come to it play a genre called thunder rock. Saying thunder rock “could get loud” was like saying the Dragon Lands during peak volcano season “could get warm.” As Basashi played, their instruments’ frantic bursts, too chaotic to call a rhythm, sent quakes through the stadium’s clouds.
Gallus jammed the plugs into his ears and grimaced. I felt like I was about to choke. He’d never said what kind of music he liked, and I hadn’t thought of a way to ask him without spoiling the surprise. I had thought he might like thunder rock, but at that moment it seemed like I’d made a huge mistake. I got ready to leave with him.
Then Gallus’s claws fell away. His grimace turned into a grin. He loved it.
Soon we were both standing on our back legs, banging our heads and singing along with the throat-shredding choruses, with me helping Gallus whenever he missed a line. I had never told anyone this before, because they would think I was weird, but I love thunder rock. It’s explosive, raw, gripping…and fierce, like griffons. I almost never got to hear it live, but I’d found a few albums at Ponyville’s record shop that I listened to with headphones. That way, no pony would ask me about it.
Seeing Gallus growling to these songs and banging his head to band after band, I regretted being so secretive about liking this. I should have shared it with him sooner.
I started to wonder about the other things I was keeping from him.
Bands came and went, each sharing the same aggression but with different styles. One would have a chorus of growling demonic singers singing over pounding drums, while the next wove cryptic lyrics with plaintive guitars. We caught a breather at one of the band changes. Gallus gulped down water while I checked a billboard for festival info. Next up were a band called Freak with a Beak ft. Gordana.
“I don’t know these guys,” I told him.
“They better have beaks,” he said as passed me his empty water bottle, “or I’m filing a complaint for false advertising.”
That time I got his joke. “Go for it,” I said with a smirk. “I bought the tickets, so I’d get the refund, right?”
He grinned. “Fair point.”
Gallus was still grinning, and so was I, when a griffon appeared on stage.
She strode out, rage oozing from her wrinkled pink head and raven black body with every step. Pegasi bandmates flocked close behind her. Cheers shot across the stadium and broke into a chant.
“Gordana! Gordana! Gordana!”
Gordana strutted up to a mic on center stage and seized it with her claws. The crowd hushed. She peered at us all, like a raptor sizing up her prey. One wing flicked out, and her drummer snapped out a beat. Her beak opened wide.
“GET YOUR FLANKS UP IN THE AAAAAIIIRRR!”
Her roar reverberated as the band erupted into a sonic madness so deafening that it played through the clamor of thousands of pegasi launching into the air. Gallus was confused until I took off.
“It’s a mosh!” I yelled and grabbed his legs.
Gallus hesitated.
“Don’t worry!” I pulled him up, closer to me in the air. “It’s fun!”
I’d been in one mosh before then, although it had only been with a dozen classmates in a Ponyville basement. Moshing in the air, with a crowd this big, was one step away from battle. Pegasi zoomed and dived into each other, spawning chain reactions of collisions, each with a meaty thud that got my heart racing.
For Gallus, it must have been overwhelming. He kept as close to me as he could. His hackles were raised, and his eyes were wide. He was missing out on the fun, so I had to show him what to do.
A wiry pegasus with a mohawk mane hovered not too far off.I could tell from how she was staring at my wings that she wondered if she could ram me without crushing them, so I locked eyes with her. She grinned back. I pawed the air—earth pony habits die hard—and charged. With a whinny, she copied me. We slammed together, chest to chest to keep our wings safe, and bounced away giddy.
I glanced over to Gallus. He looked, by turns, worried, puzzled, and finally eager to join in.
Then he looked terrified.
I heard a bellowed “YEAH!” half a nanosecond before a herd of bulls pretending to be a single burly white stallion clobbered me. I careened away, my wings useless, and crashed into Gallus. The force knocked him out of the air, and I clung to him for dear life as we fell… 
About three yards.
Mist sprang up from our impact on the soft cloud floor. Feathers rained down from the frenzy. Neither Gallus or I moved. My legs felt so natural around him, and his so comfortable around me. We breathed in sync, sharing the scant air between us, and I savored his scents of orange spice and oak. I felt content and dizzy, like I was waking up from a dream I didn’t want to leave. It would have been easy to cup his head with my hoof and pull him to my lips.
But my nose began to itch.
I startled, rubbing my muzzle against a leg to hold off the sneeze. Why wasn’t the potion working anymore? A clock near one of the exits read a half past six. We’d arrived around noon. Where had the time gone?
“You all right?” Gallus asked.
I pulled away and snorted. The day wasn’t supposed to end now, not at that one moment when anything could happen.
Telling him wouldn’t cure me. At best, it’d make him feel sorry for me. At worst, I’d find out he didn’t care.
“Fine and dandy!” I sputtered.
But my wings betrayed me, convulsing against an itch on my barrel.
“I’ve gotta use the bathroom,” I said. I didn’t let him reply before I took off, ducking under the roiling crowd and darting out of view. The urge to sneeze finally overwhelmed me. A volley speared through my lungs and sinuses, sending my head whipping back and my rump into the floor.
I’d made it to a deserted hallway leading to the entrance. Alone, I could turn into a quivering phlegmy mess and no one would notice. Gallus would probably come looking for me, though. Or maybe he wouldn’t.
I needed a drink. I reached for a water bottle in my saddlebags.
It wasn’t water I pulled out, though. Zecora’s second vial fell into my hoof. Sip it, and my allergies would go away. I couldn’t go back to that moment between Gallus and me, but I could hope for another to come.
But she’d said I needed a day between each dose. Something about causing bedlam if I did. But what did that mean? Had she made it with poison joke, so drinking too much would make my mane go frizzy or shrink me to the size of a mouse?
Gallus would get a kick out of seeing that. 
I popped the vial’s cap and downed its fluid. Instantly, my nose relaxed and my itching eased. My muscles went limp. I slid down to my belly with a relieved sigh and closed my eyes.
When I opened them a second later, Cloudsdale was speeding away from me.
I didn’t understand. Somehow I’d slipped through the clouds. I tried to flap my wings, but they were disintegrating into gossamer threads. Both of my spells had broken.
“Help!” I screamed, hoping to catch someone's attention. The festival music drowned me out, even as I plummeted away. No way anyone could hear me over it.
Time slowed down, drawing out my dread and regrets. I couldn’t remember the last thing I’d said to my parents or my sister. I hoped I had told them recently that I loved them.
I knew I’d never said it to Gallus.
A dark speck appeared against Cloudsdale’s backdrop. Somepony was looking down! I flailed my limbs, trying to get their attention, but air resistance sent me tumbling. Before I twisted away, the speck grew wings and dived.
Ground filled my view. Trees and grass raced at me. It was too late. I shut my eyes, unable to watch any more.
I felt an impact. Bone-rattling force squeezed my ribs and sent liquid splashing out. For the briefest of seconds, I wondered how much longer I’d be conscious.
Then I heard Gallus: “Gotcha!”
I peeked. We were gliding over the ground, Gallus holding me up while water sheeted away from his face in the wind. He had crushed my remaining water bottles when he’d grabbed me and saved my life. I wanted to curl into his arms forever.
It could never last. Even him holding me made me itch.
We landed, and Gallus let me go. “Needless to say, you owe me a huge favor now,” he crowed.
“Anything you want,” I murmured.
“You’ve got that right. We’re playing by Griffonstone rules.” He tapped his beak, wrapped up in scheming. “Let’s see… Should I make you do my homework for the rest of the semester? Or maybe make you dress up in that cat costume for a week?”
An itch prickled my side. I’d agree to whatever he wanted so we could end this farce.
Gallus snapped his claws. “I’ve got it! You have to…” His voice changed, no longer triumphant, now serious. “Tell me exactly what has been going on with you.”
“What do you mean that—“ A sneeze cut me short.
“Bless you. And what I mean is you’ve been acting strange all day. You took me to Cloudsdale, you bought my ticket to that music festival—a batpony told me how much they really cost, by the way—you went skydiving without your wings, and now your allergies are uncured. What has gotten into you?”
“No one cured my allergies. They can’t be cured,” I blubbered. “I went to a zebra in the Everfree Forest. She gave me a potion that keeps them under control for a few hours, but it only works twice. She also told me not to take both doses in the same day, but I did because the first dose wore off. I guess drinking them both broke my cloud-walking and wing spells.”
“And it did squat all for your allergies.”
I giggled despite myself.
“I still don’t get it,” Gallus said. “You’re so allergic to me that you’re one sneeze away from losing your snout, but you invited me to go to Cloudsdale with you. Did you consider, and I’m just brainstorming here, not doing that?”
“No. I wanted to hang out with you.”
“Why?”
“Because I want…”
I couldn’t say it.
“What?” he demanded. “What do you want?”
“I want you!”
It gushed from me in a spray of phlegm.
Gallus stared at me, his beak agape. Seconds crawled. I tried to work up the courage to tell him how I’d wanted one unforgettable day for us because we’d never get a second chance, but that courage never came.
Then Gallus clamped his beak shut. He glowered at me, rage building in his eyes.
“Oh, you mean you wanted something from me.”
“No!”
“So that’s why you’ve been buttering me up,” he snapped. “What do you think I can—“
Words would never be enough. I lunged forward and pressed my muzzle to Gallus.
He didn’t move. We were frozen, him a statue, me about to crumble, until my lips slipped off of his cold, numb beak. 
“I meant I wanted you,” I sighed. “I wanted everything about you. Your sarcasm, your strength, your confidence…”
Memories of him rolling on his back in the cat café sprang to mind.
“Your cuteness…”
His claws dug into my chest like needles. He pulled, dragging me closer to him, and leaned forward.
“I wanted you too.”
Then he buried his beak into my muzzle, hungry, probing, and fierce. My heart shuddered. His wings covered my head, and his arms held me tight. His claws ran through my mane, coaxing needy moans from me.
I tried to bend towards him, but couldn’t. He’d already pressed his body against me. Instead I wrapped my front legs around him and rubbed my hooves on his back. His supple muscles flexed with his every move. I laid messy kisses down his neck, thankful for this moment, as fleeting as it would be.
We collapsed together, one entangled mess of fur, feathers, sweat, and musky heat. He propped himself up over me and looked into my eyes.
“This… This feels nice,” he said between pants.
“That felt incredible.”
“No, I… Yeah, okay, that was great.” His claws found their way back to my chest, and I caressed them. “I mean this, though.”
“This what?”
“This… Being wanted.”
I had no idea what to say in response, so I just held him tighter.
He pushed off and flopped to the ground beside me. Evening air chilled me, sending up goose bumps over my skin.
“We’ve gotta figure out your allergies, though.”
I whimpered. Reality had come crashing in again. “There’s nothing to figure out.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” He laid a claw on my collar bone. I shivered as he stirred the sweat pooling in the hollows around it. “You know how you were going to take a long shower after the cat café? That way you wouldn’t trigger your mom’s allergies.”
That had been my plan, not that it ended up mattering.
“What if I did that?” Gallus asked.
I felt a rush of excitement. Bathing would have helped my mom because I picked up cat dander at the café, and showering would have washed it off of my body. Gallus shed cat dander, but if he showered, he’d still wash off some of it.
“That could work,” I said.
And I knew the perfect way to test it.
> The Pony's Rest
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mom and Dad weren’t too surprised when I told them I’d started dating someone who wasn’t a young mare. They were surprised that he wasn’t a pony. And they really wanted to meet him.
We took Gallus to the beach. With autumn already started, strong breezes and cold water greeted us, but we all made it into the water to wade, swim, or surf. It turns out surfing is pretty good for impressing your new boyfriend. It also turns out seawater is pretty good for washing off cat dander. It’s not a cure, though, and neither is showering. There are days when my allergies get so bad that we have to be apart. We make up for it on the times we’re together, though.
One of my cousins visited Ponyville for the Running of the Leaves race a few weeks ago, so I got to introduce her to Gallus. She asked how we met, and we told her about our escapade in Cloudsdale, including going to Cirripalooza. It turns out she’s a huge fan of Freak with a Beak! If I’d only known, we could have been trading thunder albums this whole time. We’re all planning to go to Cirripalooza next year, although I have no idea how we’re going to save up the bits for it.
There’s something else from my cousin’s visit that I still think about. When I told Gallus that my cousin was coming to Ponyville, he looked at me like I’d started talking in Old Ponish. He didn’t know what a cousin was, or an aunt or uncle. After I finished explaining the whole concept of extended family, it occurred to me that he hadn’t told me anything about his family, except his “grandpa.”
Hearth’s Warming is coming coon. Gallus is going to spend the winter break with us, but he never said he had talked to his parents about it. I think there’s a reason why.
We share so much with each other now between our jokes, our passions, our shocks, our fears—his claustrophobia, my insecurity—and all of our comfortable silences. But he guards one final, enormous piece of himself.
There’s a darkness in him. It’s a cavern that’s vacant but menacing, a scar that’s callused but raw. It fuels his suspicions, sparks his anger, and nurses his sulks. The Everfree Forest may be scary, but all of its monsters would cower before whatever lurks in Gallus’s darkness.
I still want that piece of him. I want it because I want every piece of him, but I’ll wait until he’s ready to share it. When that day does come, we’ll confront it together.