Characters: A 21 year old male human named Micheal. He is in Equestria (the story doesn't go into how or why he is) and he is pretty adventurous and is a hiker. So he wants to see the world. His first destination is griffonstone, before it's appearance in season five.
Next is Giselle. An 18 year old female griffon that was in the Equestria games (yes she is show accurate). She is tough, greedy, rambunctious, and holds no shame in anything she does.

I plan on having the clop scene take place out in the open, in the middle of griffonstone. Yes, an audience will gather and many will shout words of encouragement.

Here is Giselle.

The story has comedy, but not to a ridiculous level. It is focused more on the story and development of the characters rather than being "mindless" clop. The premise is that since griffons love gold so much, most would have no problem selling their bodies if asked and provided with sufficient compensation. I think that Michael gets an idea, and asks for some "service". Once a price is agreed upon, Giselle being all impatient gets to the task right there in the middle of the busy street in daylight. While Michael will be initially shocked and apprehensive, her aggressive demeanor makes him continue and finish in the middle of the town. Then some possible romance may insue, or I might have them go separate ways. I'm not sure yet.

So, sound interesting? If you thought so, then here is the link to the gdoc. It doesn't have any clop yet, so it doesn't break the rules.

Got Any Bits?

Thank you for reading, and have a good day. Also, PM me if you want to help with this. You will get due credit and even promotion from me if you want. Or we can work something out where I can draw something or write something for you if you want. Have a great day.

4657769
Are you going to post the story here? Because I can't seem to read it from the link.

4735351

Here ya go. Let me know what you think.
(It is probably going to be less than satisfactory in regards of entertainment, development, comedic value, and generally very other category that one can think of.)

Wow, look at this. It's so beautiful.  

I allowed my gaze to explore the snow capped, rocky mountains of the east. The air was light, and I felt winded from the long climb thus far. Thankfully, the wind wasn't as strong as I had been led to believe. It added a thin chill to the air, but it was bearable.

The uphill hike was taking forever, and I still had another estimated hour to go before I got to Griffonstone, (if the map I had was accurate).

Why can't they just make the tracks go a little further? Just a little, please? I love the view and all, but why have a train only go halfway up a mountain? It just seems like they want to make people suffer, sadistic bastards.

I used my mental grumbling and complaining the help pass the time. And I was also trying to distract myself from the dull ache in my feet.

Okay, cavemen could do this, and you are way more evolved than them. Come on. Step. Step. Step. ~Just keep walking, just keep walking, just keep walking, walking, what do we do? We walk, walk.~

The childish cadence from some immemorable cartoon allowed for me to keep up a consistent pace as my mind faded out into other thoughts.

It was strange that I hadn't encountered anyone yet, I was expecting an outpost or something, even scouts. But the only companion I had for my lonely journey was my shadow that walked beside me.

My breathing became labored at one point. I suppose it was due to the lack of exposure to such high altitudes, or something. Regardless, I was slightly winded. I didn't see anywhere else that looked like a comfortable resting place, so just sat down where I was.

My back leaned against the cliff face as I stretched out my sore leg muscles. From my vantage point, I could still see over the edge of the ridiculously small pathway, and down the chasm that had probably claimed a couple of lives over the centuries.

I pulled out my water canteen and took a swig. I held the magically chilled liquid in my mouth, and swallowed it in tiny gulps. I wasn't low or anything, just taking precautions like I would on any trail. 

I eventually decided to get up once my breathing had become lax and my heart rate dropped to a resting rhythm. I was avoiding exerting myself too much, as I didn't want to sweat. In cold temperatures, the sweat cooling off of me would add to the already present chill around. While not life-threatening, it would have been unpleasant.

As I moved up the trail, a mist seemed to roll into the mountain range.

~Far over, the Misty Mountains cold.To dungeons deep and caverns old. We must away, ere break of day to find our long, forgotten gold...~

Yes, I was and still am a major nerd, deal with it.

Time passed as I sung the sixteen minute poem about little people who got evicted from their kingdom by a giant fire-breathing hoarding lizard Oh, I wonder when I will get to meet a dragon? I've gotta ask if I can get a guide to show me their nest, that would be awesome.

I awoke from my mental reverie of fantasizing about riding a dragon while I held a sword over my head, dressed in armor. Ahead of me, I saw a wooden sign.

Griffonstone

Yes! So close, and I hope that I am not simultaneously so far away...

I continued, my vigor was spurred on by that piece of dead and processed tree with carved symbols in it. Weirder things have motivated me before.

As I rounded a curve, I saw that the trail continued forward in a serpentine structure. It rose to the top of a mountain, with a giant tree resting atop.

Huh, cool!

All thoughts of conserving my energy swiftly exited my mind as I began to pick up my pace. I started out with a light jog, but soon I entered a decent running speed. My pack and assorted equipment all stayed pretty secure as I made my way up to the top.

Thank you custom tailor. What was her name again? Oh, I will look her up when I get back to Canterlot.

By the time I reached the city's threshold at the top of the climb, I had to bend over a bit and lean on my knees as I caught my breath.

Yay, I can now see the griffons and their awesome... Trashed ghetto? What the hell is this?

It seemed that the entire section of town I was looking at, was part of the slums from some medieval period.

But griffons were out and about, so that was a plus.

At least they weren't attacked and wiped out by zombies. Wait, do zombies actually exist here? Should I be worried? I have so many questions! Okay, just walk up and talk to some griffon, be polite and they will reciprocate.

I saw what looked to be a hummingbird mixed with a ocelot walk by, so I approached.

"Um, hello. Excuse me, but do you know-"

"-Unless you've got any bits, I don't know nothing." She cut me off rather rudely.

Bitch. Okay time to piss off a griffon.

"Oh, excellent so you can help me. I was looking for a place to stay, like an inn or hotel. Know of any around here that are cheap and inexpensive?" I carried on, nonchalantly.

She turned to face me full on, obviously annoyed. "Hey, monkey. Are you deaf? I just said that I don't know nothin'."

"Exactly. You don't know nothing. That is a double negative. Your 'don't' negates your 'nothing'. So you basically said that you do know something. Or did you lie to me?" My lecturing tonality seemed to rattle her feathers, literally. She was shaking a bit, her claws digging into the ground, her chest lowering-oh, God she's going to kill me!

"Or, or. I was being a dumb smartass. And I apologize for my conduct. And here." I fished out a bit and tossed it to her.

She had surprisingly adequate reflexes, as her claw snatched it out of the air.

"There." She pointed to a three story tree with giant birdhouses built onto the branches.

That's kinda cool. I always wanted a treehouse...

"Hey, thanks..." I turned to thank the griffon, but as I watched, she just kept walking away.

"Okay then. Let's go checkout the birdhouse." I said to myself. As I made my way to it, I noticed that I was also nearing the edge of the cliff that housed the town.

I stood there, looking up at the high branches. Damn, how am I supposed to get up there? Especially with all of this gear?

My problem seemed to be solved by the griffon that bumped into my leg, shoving me out of his way.

You little dickeater.

"Hey, um excuse me sir. But I was wondering if maybe I could get a lift? I can't really fly and I need a place to stay and it's getting close to dusk. Can ya help me out?" I put on my most pleading and friendly smile that I could muster. I might as well have been sneering at him with disgust due to the response he gave me.

"Flock off ape. Unless you got bits, you're stuck on the ground tonight." He seemed young, and arrogant. He reminded me of a high school quarterback.

Damn, is everyone here a rude douchebag?

I sighed and asked, "How much?"

"How much ya got?"

Little dick! Well, I know how to work this from many Saturdays spent going to yard sales. 

"Not much, all I can afford is five bits..." I say, unsure and a bit anxious.

"Double it" he demands.

"But then that's all of my money! How am I supposed to get food or supplies?" I questioned hysterically.

"Not my problem. My problem is bits, and a lack of them." His stoic, unsympathetic tone was unsettling.

"Never mind. I'll find a way."

"Whatever dork." He turns and immediately takes off into the air.

That bastard! Right after I asked him too.     

I looked up at the nearest branch, which appeared to be thirteen feet or so above me.

Hm, I can take out my climbing rope, throw it over the branch, and scramble up! Ha! Genius Mike, genius.

So I unbuckled the clasps from my backpack that went around my chest and stomach. I unhooked the tether that held the one inch thick magically strengthened rope to the side of the pack. The rope was a generous sixty feet, erm, hooves long. Both units were basically the same size, so I suppose it didn't matter much. I looked around and spotted a fist-sized rock lying on the ground near the trunk of the tree. I picked it up and quickly wrapped a rudimentary monkey fist pattern around it.

Warning!
Flashback Imminent. Memory Retrieval In 3... 2... 1...

So I was browsing YouTube, like every single normal person, and then I saw a homemade weapons video.

Oh, cool. I can make tools of murder and pain from everyday household items? Hell yeah!

Among the armaments presented, the only weapon that I could create was something called the monkey fist. Basically, it was a solid metal ball bearing wrapped in a string or chord, and it was used like a hand held wrecking ball of death.

Okay, it wasn't really lethal. But it could break someone's jaw easily. The pattern was simple and repetitive, so I had it done in about ten minutes.

Then I went outside to play with my new weapon of mass destruction, toy. I swung it around and pretended I was a ninja. Then I accidentally hit my knee with it. I promptly threw it over my fence after I got back up from crying. Like a bitch.

Memory Synchronization Complete.
Continue With The Narrative.

I gave it a hard, final tug as I finished tightening the loops. Then I experimentally swung it around a bit.

Alright, you can do this. You are...

I halted my mental speech as I threw the rock up, and it bounced off of the branch and flew towards me. I promptly remember a sharp pain radiating from the top of my skull.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck...

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck..." My swearing didn't cease there, but I created too perfect of a combination of curses to ever allow that power into the wrong hands, or claws, or hooves... tentacles? Hey, don't look at the page like that, it's totally not what you think...

However, my vulgarly verbal rant of destruction that promised the death of the offending rock and it's entire lineage attracted some (a lot of) attention from the passerby populace.

I smiled, awkwardly. And silence permeated the air, awkwardly. And they stared, awkwardly. I then turned and picked up my masochistic implement and gave it another go. I mentally cheered as I saw the ball clear my targeted branch.

Yes! That's right hoe, you'd best do what I say. Tonight, you can eat my leftovers.

I let the rock crash to the ground, carrying the rope with it.

Great! Now, just do a little slipknot here, secure it with a single... and boom goes the dynamite.

I pulled the main cord, which made the knot I tied slide up and constrict the loop around the thick branch.

Alright, tie my pack on the end of this. And there we go! See, I told you I could do it!

I am so proud of you, give yourself a cookie or something sport.

Hey, why am I mocking myself?

Because it's funny?

Oh, yeah.

After I finished my monologue that consisted of a borderline Dissociative Identity Disorder diagnosis, I began to climb. I held onto the rope with my hands, as I used my feet to walk up the base of the tree.

I quickly reached the top, and stuck my hand through the gap between the rope and the bottom of the branch. I slid my hand up, opening a gap on the side between the rope and the tree. Grasping the length of oversized thread with my other hand, I then pulled myself up.

Bracing my knees against the branch, I slid my hands up the rope. I continued to inch up like this until I pulled myself up onto the topside of the three foot wide branch.

Today, this tree. Tomorrow, the world!

I gathered my breath a bit before I towed the pack up. Then I grabbed the rope, and spun it around until the knot was topside.

I quickly untied it and unbound the rock. I looked at said rock rather intensely as I held it.

You helped me. In my time of need, you got me through my trials. I thank you, kind sir. But you have committed a great evil, and I cannot forgive you. So in short, fuck off and have a nice fall, bitch.

I then promptly hurled the head bashing clump of minerals over the edge of the plateau, and watched as it plummeted to its ruin.

Okay, now to check in.

I walked forward on the branch, towards the one story little cottage that rested at the end, being supported by multiple diverging branches. The front door had a wooden sign with crudely scratched words on it.

Perching Inn
Have bits, or else

Lovely. These seem like caring, sympathetic, and reasonable douchebags.

I politely knocked on the door, and waited a few moments until I heard,

"Come in already, doofus."

I obeyed the gravelly, hoarse, and masculine voice. Upon entering, I saw that everything seemed to come from various trips of dumpster diving. Half ripped paintings, scratched up furniture, this place seemed like it was begging for an eviction notice.

Man, I hope not everyone here lives like this. That would suck, a lot. What it would suck, I don't know. But it would still suck.

"Can I help you... Whatever you are?"

I studied the avian before me as he sat at his hand-me-down desk. It seemed this griffon was a cross between a sphinx cat and a vulture.

Eww. You look like the very incarnation of hideousness, just griffonified. I love my imaginary vocabulary.

Despite my inner thoughts, I kept a polite smile on my face.

"Hello sir, I was looking for a room that I can stay at tonight. Do you have any that are available? And before you ask, yes I have bits."

He seemed to regard me a bit more. As he stroked his chin, I could clearly see the tell-tale signs of aging. He must have been about seventy or so, difficult to say when you are looking at another species.

"Well, I got one left. It'll be, how many bits ya got?"

Damn geezer, you too eh?

"Well, I only got ten..."

"Ten it is sonny. Fork'em on over." He held out his claw expectantly.

I sighed and pulled out a small pouch from my pocket. I counted out ten bits and poured them into his awaiting talons.

He started to closely inspect each one. Biting, weighing, even scratching at them. Once he was satisfied that they were genuine, he looked at me again.

"Here, welcome to the Perching Inn. Now get your shit and get out." He commented, while tossing me a key.

Well fuck you too Walter. Yeah, that's your new name, Walter. Bitch.

With my new key, and prospectively five star room, I left the trashy little birdhouse.

I looked at my key.

4

So, birdhouse four, eh? Well, where are you?

I searched amongst the various treehouses until I spotted mine.

There ya are darlin'.

The rented abode was on the top level.

Well, shit. Fuck climbing again. Let's see...

I searched around, and couldn't find a single griffon near me. I was kind of tired, sore, and frustrated. So I did the sane and logical thing.

"I HAVE TEN BITS FOR WHOEVER CAN GET ME UP THERE!"

I pointed towards my purchased house as I announced the job. Immediately, an entire flock erupted from the ground.

Ohshitohshitohshitohshit.

I was quite terrified of the possibility that they would knock me off. And that I would plummet towards certain doom. However, the fates must have had enough fun with me, for I felt something grab my pack, and then I was being lifted into the air.

What?

I looked up and saw a black and gray female griffon exerting herself to pull me to my desired destination.

I relaxed a bit as she climbed higher. I will say, it was pretty fun to be in the air. It has always been one of my dreams actually, to be able to fly.

When she unceremoniously dropped me on my backside, rousing me from my mental fantasies, I was not the happiest of campers. But, I stifled my rage, for I did not want to unleash the fearsome monster within.

Man I wish I was the Hulk.

I looked up at my unexpected employee, and she looked down at me. The first thing that stood out was her onyx plumage, and her slender form.

Wow, I would totally tap that. Please tap that.

After visualizing depraved actions with this bird/cat, I questioned my sexual deviancy. Then, deciding I was far beyond help, I tossed my worries on the bestiality issue aside.

"So, bits? Ten of them? Now..." Her apathetic, yet smooth vocals were quite pleasant. And her appearance was a marvel as well.

She seemed to be a combination of a raven, and a lion. But her coat was gray, not brown.

As I stared into her amber colored eyes, I felt a chill travel down my spine, and an electric jolt in my naughty bits.

Damn, I would totally fuck the hell out of you...

"Yeah, here. Thanks." I fished out thirteen bits and handed them to her, slowly letting the coins drop into her grasp so I could strike up conversation.

"So, I'm Michael. What's your name?"

"..."

"I'll add another bit." I offered.

"Giselle." She replied cooly.

Oh, nice name. "Giselle", yeah, I could scream that. It rolls nicely off the tongue...

"That's a beautiful name. I suppose a beautiful griffon should have a likewise, attractive n-"

As the last of the golden coins dropped into her talons, she abruptly took off.

That was a bust. Smooth move, ape.

I watched as she flew towards the center of town, presumably to her residence. Or to a store.

Well, better settle in.

I unlocked the door to my own little birdhouse. The inside looked terrible.

Yay, stained carpet, broken nightstand, ripped mattress. Oh, are those semen or blood stains? Never mind, I don't wanna know.

I dropped my things on the floor and flipped the mattress over. Surprisingly, it was pretty clean and untouched.

Wow, either these guys are dumb as fuck, or they are gross as fuck. Either way, fuck is involved in some form.

So I closed my door, and checked through my supplies.

Canteen
Rope
Climbing Axes
Magic Flares
Dehydrated Rations
Compressed Hammock
Survival Hatchet
Fire Starting Kit
Emergency Medical Kit

Eeyup, that seems to be good. Everything looks undamaged and it all stayed in place. Awesome.

With my inventory check completed, I sat down on the cleanest side of the bed. I fell back and closed my eyes as I relaxed my sore body a bit.

I am so going to need a shower, I hope they at least have those.

After lying back a bit, and realizing that the dull ache had left my feet and legs for the most part, I got up and thought about what to do.

I could go sightseeing, but how would I get back? I really don't want to pay another ten bits to just be carried home. Oh! I'll just use the rope and tie it to something! I know, I'm amazing.

Not really.

...I need to stop talking to myself, it can't be healthy.

With that, I went out of the front door and took a look around. I found the nub of a broken branch sticking almost straight up. It was about as thick as my leg, and a foot or so tall.

I then thanked the gods of convenience, yes they do exist. They require weekly sacrifices of hot pockets, pizza rolls, and mountain dew. They are cruel and demanding deities.

I returned to my, crappy one room treehouse. Picking up the rope, I began tying single knots every foot or so apart. This would give me some hand-holds so I wouldn't slip down if my grip wasn't tight enough.

After I accomplished that nonrepetitive, entertaining, and rewarding task that took forty minutes of my life that I will never, ever get back, I went outside with the homemade ladder to tie it to the stump of a branch.

I secured my means of return with a figure eight follow through loop. I slid the loop over the broken branch and tugged to test its strength.

Looks clear.

I went back inside to retrieve my bare necessities, and hide the rest of my stuff. Hey, these were cheap bastards, I wasn't taking any more chances than I had to.

Once I had securely sequestered my belongings into various hiding spots, I set out to go explore the town. I had thirty of my five hundred and twenty bits, my pocket knife, and the treehouse key.

I reached the ground easily and without incident.

Hah! I am really happy that I made that.

Since the hotel was on the edge of the plateau, it was also on the edge of town. There were three paths for me to choose from. A road that went perpendicular to me, following around the edge of the settlement. And a main road that went straight ahead into the center of town. I figured that the shops would all be towards the center, so I chose to go straight, (giggity). 

As I passed the half-broken, rotting houses and shops, I noticed that most of the citizens either pretended that no one else existed, or regarded them as if they might slit their throats at any given moment.

A fight broke out between a street vender and his potential customer as I walked down the dirt road. Now when I say fight, I don't mean that they yelled obscenities at each other and tried to injure the other's pride. I mean they punched, clawed, and bit, yes bit one another.

No thanks. I choose life.

I stayed on the opposite side of the street as I passed the brawl. No other griffons seemed to take notice, so I thought that it must have been a normal enough occurrence. Given the attitudes that everyone I had encountered possessed, I understood how fights could be a regular occurrence.

Soon enough, the scuffle was behind me as I reached the town square, which was more like a circle. A dried up fountain rested in the center, damaged by the elements and lack of proper care. It looked like it was something of a wonder at one point in time. A statue of a female griffon that was elegantly in the middle of a twist as she sailed up through the air, falchion-like swords were placed in either talon.

As I got closer to inspect, I saw that the statue was seemingly cast out of bronze. This would explain all of the pits and green colored rust that covered the piece. However, I also noticed that the swords in her talons were real swords, not cast. Her back right paw was the only thing attaching her the the pedestal the held her aloft. There were holes on the top of the pedestal. I assumed this was where the water streams shot out of.

That's actually pretty awesome. Too bad no one cleans you up, you look beautiful now, but imagine if you were pristine. You know sweetie? You would make a wonderful collector's item.

After my little one-way chat with the town fountain, I took a better look around. I saw a clothing shop, a pottery, and... a baking vendor? The stall owner was what I had once thought what a normal griffon should look like. Eagle front, lion back, white feathers and golden brown coat... well, there is a proper griffon.

The proper griffon appeared to be female. I confirmed this as she went to her old timey cast iron stove and pulled out, something. She had to lean over her stall to reach the top shelf so that she could place her assorted, cooked things. In doing this, her tail moved a bit to the side, revealing a thin, pink slit. It was smaller than a mare's, or even a woman's for that matter!

Just as quickly as she revealed herself, that damned tail covered it up again. But at least her rump was pleasant enough-oh, crapbaskets she's looking over here. Do something, she's just staring.

Following my auto-provided advice, I smiled and waved. Surprisingly, she smiled and waved back! Figuring she just might be the only friendly individual around, I made my way over to her. Once I got about twenty feet or so from her stall, the sweet and buttery aroma of her baked dish graced my nostrils.

Scones!

I fucking, and I mean fucking love scones. I would marry one, but I would just eat it and end up wasting hundreds of dollars on a dressed up snack.

"Hey, what's down?" I asked as I came to a stop in front of her.

"Uh, what?" She seemed clearly confused, so I explained my expression to her.

"Well, I noticed that most people say 'what's up' when asking about your day. So I say the opposite to mark my individuality. I'm strange, I know. But hopefully it makes me somewhat interesting. You know, besides the whole 'walking on two legs and looking like a civilized monkey' thing."

"Oh, I wasn't going to say anything, but since you already did... what are you exactly?" Her voice was rough and raspy, like she was trying too hard to sound masculine.

"I'm a human. That's a species of ape. But we are more sentient than our cousins. At least, I hope we are."

My little quip got a small chuckle out of the avian.

Yes! I got her to laugh. I just might have a chance...

"Well, I assume you're interested in some scones?" She nodded her head towards her display of goods.

"I just might be. What kinds do you have?"

"I've got cinnamon, blueberry, cherry, and chocolate. And if you want something with more substance, there's bacon and cheddar, ham and swiss, and sausage with pepper jack." She pointed at each section on her display as she named the treats off. Saliva rapidly pooled in my mouth as I gazed upon the delicacies.

"Hm, I'll take..." My request died off as I spotted the black and gray female griffon from earlier.

What do you call a female griffon? A griffoness? A she-griffon?

"Hey, I have an awkward question. Mind answering it for me?"

"Well, that depends. But go ahead." Apprehension was evident in her tone, and her expression.

"What exactly are female and male griffons called respectively? Like how ponies are either a stallion or a mare, what would the equivalent of those terms be for you guys?"

"Oh, well a girl is reeve, and a guy is a tiercel." She intoned.

"Cool, thanks. I will be right back, don't go anywhere. And wish me luck." I started to head in the direction that I saw my prey disappear in.

"Wait, what?" Confusion was placed clearly within her tone, and her face.

I smiled at her, "Wish me luck."

"Um, okay. Good luck, I guess?"

"Awesome, thanks. I'll be back." After suppressing a chuckle at the fond memory of the   80's sci fi film, I continued my hunt.

She had rounded the corner that was coming up on my left, so I went left. I saw other griffons roaming the streets and flying around, but I didn't spot her.

Hm, she must have went into one of the shops. Eeny, meeny, miny, you.

I decided on the store that was second in line on my left. As I got close enough to see the sign, I saw this on it.

Gary's Garments.

Huh, well a clothing store would be a place to find a woman. So I guess this is a good place to start.

I opened the slightly broken shop door, and stepped inside.

The interior was dark, not just from the lack of light that entered, but also because of the dark color of the walls. I couldn't be sure what color they were, but they looked dark brown. The shopkeeper's counter was to my immediate right, and the rest of the small room had display racks and shelves that offered various protections from the chill outside.

My coat and thermal underclothes held my heat in pretty well. But, I could go for a hat that actually fit. I had purchased a Russian style head covering while I was back in Canterlot, but it was sized for pony heads. It was great for keeping my entire head and face warm, but that cozy comfort came at the loss of visibility and breathing.

But thoughts of hats and my potential purchasing of one were put on hold as I saw my prey at the counter.

"I have ten more. That makes a total of eighty bits. So can you get on those custom orders?" She asked the shopkeeper.

He was a seemingly middle aged griff-tiercel. All that I could see was his upper body, which was that of an owl. His wider than average visage gave him an appearance of someone who was studious and analytical. He also wore glasses, similar to those of Harry Potter.

It didn't help that he had a British accent.

"Well, unfortunately circumstances have been altered. And due to the lack of funding I currently have, I'm afraid that I will need to inflate the price I quoted you on before. I'm going to need one hundred and twenty bits if I will be devoting time to your project." He explained. At least he was being nicer than most others I had met so far.

"Oh, come on! That is utter shit! How in Tartarus does the price bump up by sixty bits?" Her smooth and pristine voice didn't match well with the vulgarity of her rant. It was like if you heard an eight year old child curse, it just didn't sound right. Or it sounded hilarious. Depends on who you are, I guess.

"Miss, please calm down. There is another patron to consider." At this, he gestured towards me with his thumb, claw, talon, opposable appendage.

Her head swiveled around towards me, and her amber eyes narrowed upon seeing me.

"What do you want?" She asked. None too nicely, mind you.

"Oh, I was just looking for you." I replied casually.

"Why?" Her eyebrow raised in time with the query.

"Oh, nothing too important. Just a potential job that might pay forty or so bits. But I see you're busy, so I'll just go and find someone else..." I say coolly, as I turn towards the door.

"Wait! Forty bits? What kind of job?" Her voice no longer held the edge of annoyance that I heard her use with the tailor. And I quite enjoyed the sound of her nonpissed tone, it was sweet and nice.

"Are you sure? It seemed like you were engaged in something very important. I wouldn't want to interrupt..." I lead on, baiting her.

"No, I wasn't. Forget him." She quickly responded, with a hint of worry.

"Hey, don't forget me. What's this about forty bits?" The shopkeeper seemed eager to get in on the action, but I wasn't really interested in him.

"Sorry, position filled pal. But I could use that hat over there." I point towards a trapper hat that was resting on the shelf behind him. It had the two flaps that went down either side of the face, with straps that hung from those. The inside was fuzzy and the outside was brown, oiled leather. And the size looked like it would fit me.

"Oh, this thing?" He asked.

"Yeah, let me see if it fits."

He passed it to me as I stepped up to the counter. I grabbed the apparel and placed on my head. It fit snugly and the fur on the inside didn't tickle me as much as I thought it would. Already I could feel my face and head warm up.

"Yeah, it fits. How much?" I asked the nerdy tiercel.

"Twenty bits." He remarked rather quickly.

"Wow, twenty? How about ten?" I countered, intent on not spending that much on a hat.

"Eighteen"

"Twelve"

"Sixteen"

"I'll do fifteen, but any more than that and I can't get it." I concluded.

"...Fine, fifteen." He relented, somewhat dejectedly.

Aw, now I feel like a dick. Seeing as he lives in this hell-hole, he probably needs that money.

"Cool, here ya go." I said as I took out my bit bag and poured twenty bits on the counter.

Both of the griffons in the room looked at the pile of gold coins somewhat confused.

"I thought that you just said fifteen at most. Why are there twenty bits on the counter?" Skeptically questioned Giselle, her amber eye peering at me from under her curiously raised eyebrow.

"Yes, but I can tell that this town has gone to shit. And besides, he probably needs it more than I do, and five bits isn't that big of a deal to me." I explained.

"But then why did you negotiate with me?" Asked the shop owner, a confused expression apparent on his bird face as well.

"Just call it a mix of habit and fun." I answered. Then, as he was scooping up his money, I turned towards my prospective employee.

"So, about that job..." I trail off, leaving the remark hanging in the air.

"Yeah, it would help if I knew what I was doing." She stated flatly. Her blunt apathy was slightly off putting, but I was confident in my ability to get her to warm up to me.

"Okay, since I am new around here, I need a guide. I want to get to know the area and good places for a hike or a climb."

"Um, climb? You want to go mountain climbing? Around here?" Giselle asked me, slightly skeptical.

"Yeah, free climbing is one of my favorite activities, next to snowboarding. But I don't have a snowboard, so cliff faces will have to provide my entertainment for now." I explain, smiling pleasantly.

"Um, okay. Whatever. So when do I start?"

"How about now?" I ask.

"Sure. But I want half now, and half when I'm done." She demanded, somewhat roughly. Her aggressive approach completely clashed with her smooth, sweet voice.

"Well, I need to go home to get your first half. So come with, I'll even get you something to eat. I'm pretty hangry, myself."

"What?" She questioned, rather confused.

"Oh, hangry? It's when you're angry because you are hungry. So combine hungry and angry, then you get hangry." I intone as we head out of the shop.

"Bye, thanks for the hat." I call to the shopkeeper as I walk out, Giselle leading the way.

The little owl head perks up at my departure, "Oh, you're welcome, I suppose..."

"You're a dork." Giselle remarked as we continued down the dirt street.

"What, Why?" I question, with mock hurt.

"Because you just used a really lame word to describe that you're starving and pissed." She explained this as if she were simply telling me about the weather. It's windy, really fucking cold, and you use lame words.

"Well, that's just like, your opinion man." Yes, I attempted the voice of 'the dude' as I said this. I regret nothing.

"Dork..." Her apathy sounded as uncaring as ever.

"Sure. So, would you like a scone?" I ask as we round the corner leading back to the dry fountain, and the amazing scones.

"I'm not going to waste my bits on a snack." She stated.

"Well, I'm buying. So you'd better make up your mind on what you want." I explained with as friendly a tone as I could muster.

"Whatever." She dismissed.

Well, this is going swell. Maybe having something to eat and some money in her pocket will help her mood. I hope.

I lead my black and gray guide to the scone cart, where the presumably only friendly griffon in existence was selling those heavenly treats.

"Hey, so that's why you ran off? Well, I can't blame you." The scone seller called as we approached her.

Giselle looked at me a bit skeptically, I chose to ignore her.

"Yeah, I'm new so I needed a guide. And I've hired her before so she has a dependable track record with me. Oh, and I forgot to get your name ms..." I let my speech die off, leaving a gap for her to answer.

"Oh, no. Don't you dare call me 'ms.' I would have to drop your tail-less rump off of this mountain and laugh as you fall. Just call me Gilda." She said with a playful glint in her eye.

I didn't want to get my ass kicked by a chick in front of another chick, so I followed her 'rule'.

"Sure, Gilda. This is Giselle-" I halted my introduction as I gestured towards the reeve in question. "-and my name is Mike." I finished by holding out my hand for Gilda to shake.

She took my appendage into her talons, with a death grip. I did my best to not let my hand get smashed into pulp, but I only narrowly avoided that fate.

Damn, I hope they aren't all this strong. That was some bullshit.

I kept the smile on my face throughout the painful greeting. And once we broke the hand/talon death match, I hid my throbbing appendage behind my back. Gilda had a devilish little smirk as she saw me do this.

"So, what are you gonna get?" Gilda asked as she moved to let us close to the goods.

"Hm... well I could go for cinnamon. Giselle?"

The reeve in question seemed to be staring at me skeptically, unsure.

"Why would you buy me anything? What's the point?" She questioned, rather unconvinced of my genuine intent.

"Well, maybe because I want to be friendly and nice? That is a possibility." I snidely remarked.

"Yeah, sure." She replied sarcastically. The fact that she rolled her eyes didn't help either.
"I'll take the cherry."

Gilda pulled out two paper wraps and bundled our individual orders up, leaving half of the tasty treats exposed.

She sat back on her haunches as she offered us our purchased snacks. I grabbed my scone with one hand while my other pulled out my bit bag.

"Alright, how much?" I asked.

"Six bits total." Gilda replied cooly.

"Okay." I said as I emptied all ten bits left in my bag into her talons.

                       

4735755
Thanks, but I mean that you post the story here on your Fimfiction account like the rest of your stories.

A fight broke out between a street vender and his potential customer as I walked down the dirt road. Now when I say fight, I don't mean that they yelled obscenities at each other and tried to injure the other's pride. I mean they punched, clawed, and bit, yes bit one another.

No thanks. I choose life.

I stayed on the opposite side of the street as I passed the brawl. No other griffons seemed to take notice, so I thought that it must have been a normal enough occurrence. Given the attitudes that everyone I had encountered possessed, I understood how fights could be a regular occurrence.

You mean like this:

He was a seemingly middle aged griff-tiercel. All that I could see was his upper body, which was that of an owl. His wider than average visage gave him an appearance of someone who was studious and analytical. He also wore glasses, similar to those of Harry Potter.

It didn't help that he had a British accent.

So he looks something like this:

I've made some suggested edits to the chapter so far. Is there more?