//------------------------------// // Chapter 8 [edited] // Story: How To Train Your Batpony // by peter //------------------------------// How to train your Batpony, Ch 8 A strange tantalizing scent wafted across Gilda’s beak, glided into her nose and proceeded to take a sledgehammer to a very small section of her brain that normally didn’t get a lot of use. She twitched in response, struggling against enough lethargy to anchor a fleet of airships. A few more brain cells came online and the stabbing pain from her broken wing and strained neck ligaments made itself known, along with an entire list of other complaints, in descending order. For instance, something noxious had set up housekeeping inside her beak on the remains of her last fishy meal, and from the taste, it had not been house trained. She pried open gummy eyes and found herself in unfamiliar surroundings. Instead of the raw, rough, barely shaped, granite that was her bedroom, there was wood and soft floor coverings. Where? A moment later she came, more-or-less fully awake, although her mind still felt stuffed full of clouds. She was grounded, in the middle of a bunch of untouchable snacks, being babied like a fledgling by that terrified, and terrifying, little marshmallow. Renewed humiliation finished flushing the sleep toxins out of her brain. Carefully lifting her head, Gilda stared over at the rather smoky kitchen area and observed the two figures currently in the middle of a discussion. One pony, of the nocturne variety, and the creature Rainbow Dash called a snipe, were standing next to the oven, the snipe precariously perched on a stool, from where she was poking at the contents of a huge cast-iron frying pan with a long fork. The scent that had woken Gilda was coming from that direction. There was a strong fishy component to the scent and much to her annoyance, Gilda found herself salivating. She’d been explicit; she didn’t eat carrion. Raw and wriggling was the way to go. Which was a total fabrication. While Gilda was perfectly happy chowing down on raw fish, she was also fond of the properly cooked variety. Either occasion was fairly rare. Fish was party food, fancy, don't-sharpen-your-claws-on-the-furniture, party food. The real reason she had been so insistent on the live and wriggling part was to freak the ponies. Which had worked a treat. *** “Is it supposed to smoke so much?” Goose asked Curry as she stared at the cornmeal battered fish fillets sizzling in the frying pan, flinching back slightly as some hot oil splattered across her nose. “I always cooked it outdoors before,” Curry confessed. Her stomach let out a growl, and she poked at the simmering fish to see if the flesh was coming away from the bones yet. It wasn’t. She located a small portion that had fallen away from a larger fillet and snagged it on the tip of her fork. She blew on it for a few minutes and then carefully nibbled, her lips peeled back to keep from burning them. Her eyes closed in bliss. “Oh, that is so good,” she all but purred. The tail hanging down from the back of her bodysuit lifted slightly and wagged back and forth in response to her mood. Locating another small fragment, Curry fished it out and offered it to Goose. “Here, you try some. Blow on it a bit to cool it. It’s really hot.” “I’m don’t know,” Goose said reluctantly, looking at the offered tidbit from the corner of her eyes. “Maybe we should save it for the princess?” “Nah, we got lots still wiggling in the creel for when she wakes up. Besides, she said she didn’t eat dead food. You should have seen her scarf down the last batch of fish. Totally gross. Gluck, gluck, gluck and down it went, she didn’t even chew the smaller ones. Just like a crane. Something this good would just be wasted on her.” Goose, looking a bit greenish-grey from Curry’s graphic description, rallied and came back with one of her own. “Sounds a bit like Grampa Furious. He’s lost most of his teeth and has to have his food pre-chewed for him.” Behind the two companions, a vein began to throb in Gilda’s forehead. Curry pushed the small bit of fried fish toward Goose, causing the pony to tuck her chin in reaction. “Go on, it won’t bite you,” Curry said in a cajoling tone. “Should I make that a royal order?” she teased. “Well, maybe just a taste,” Goose capitulated. She leaned forward, peeling her lips back like Curry had done and took the little fragment between her sharp teeth and pulled it off the fork. At the same time, she closed her eyes as she focused completely on the small chunk of food. She could taste pepper, butter, salt, and lemon, and something else as her teeth clamped down and juices trickled onto her taste buds. Every bit of her expression showed reluctance as she used her tongue to draw the bite-sized bit into her mouth. She grimaced as she chewed, and then went still. Her expression smoothed out, and her eyes opened wide as she stared at Curry in surprise. “It’s good?” For a certain value of ‘good,’ knowing where it came from and compared to what I thought it would taste like. “Yeah, I know, right,” Curry said. The small snipe gave a giggle. “I had the same exact look on my face the first time Old Ben fed me fried frogs legs.” “You ate a frog?” Goose asked, her face twisting in disgust at the thought while swallowing again to make sure the little bite of fish stayed down. “Yep, the legs from some big old bullfrogs. Just as big as chicken wings, and even tastier…” Curry trailed off as a guilty expression crossed her face. “Hey, look, you don’t need to mention that bit about the chicken wings to Mom, do you.” “My lips are sealed,” Goose promised, making a zipper motion with her hoof across her lips while trying not to think of the color green. “Pony’s do that? I didn’t even think you had zippers.” “Why wouldn’t we?” Goose asked, grateful that the conversation had veered away from food that swam and hopped. “I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure out why you wear clothes.” Goose made a production of lifting her hoof to adjust her hat. Curry waved the motion off, using the toasting fork like a baton. “Oh, I know why ‘you’ wear a hat. I just can’t figure out why some ponies wear fancy dresses. “I’ve never worn a fancy dress,” Goose said in a rather wistful tone. “It’s way overrated,” Curry said with a slight shudder. “So, do you want to try a bigger piece? I think this batch is done.” “I’d try a piece,” an unexpected, raspy voice replied to Curry’s question. Curry startled, causing her to wobble precariously on her small stool. She might have fallen if Goose had not extended a wing tip to steady her in place. Both young females turned to look at the gryphon in the room. Gilda had gotten up out of her cloth nest and was standing, slightly canted, halfway between them and it. “Ah, so, you’re up,” Curry said, stating the obvious, and with just a touch of nervousness in her voice. “Mom’s out in the yard feeding the chickens. She said to yell if I needed help.” Curry put special emphasis on the last sentence as she tried her best to look calm and in control. Gilda’s stomach rumbled loudly, and both Goose and Curry flinched a bit. Some of the sudden spurt of fear faded as Gilda blushed, slightly and averted her eyes. She used one of her good front legs to rub her tummy. “I am a bit hungry, as it happens,” she said. “So, If you have extra, I’ll try some of what you’re cooking.” There was an uncertainty in her voice and posture that had not been there before, almost as if she was embarrassed about something. “Are you feeling okay, Princess?” Goose asked. Her tone was differentially, but she was wearing her best version of Shadow’s on-duty expression. She shifted so she was standing in front of Curry, keeping her eyes firmly on the gryphon while she waited for a reply. “You mean besides the broken leg, the broken wing, and the sprained neck,” Gilda snarked back, some of the cranky of the previous day coming back into her voice. “Oh, good. We thought you might be coming down with something. You almost sounded polite there for a minute,” Curry said, as she turned her back on the wounded gryphon. She started to transfer the fried fillets from the extra-large cast iron pan to a platter. “Just hold on a second and I’ll bring this right over.” Gilda shuffled nervously in place, trying not to fidget under Goose’s gimlet gaze. Holding the laden plate with both hands, Curry carefully stepped down from the stool. She looked from the plate to Gilda, and then over to the dining table. “Do you want to eat at the table?” she asked and paused, the words or off the floor on the tip of her tongue. “That would be fine,” Gilda said in a wooden tone, her eyes never leaving Goose. “I saved another piece for you, Goose,” Curry said, nodding toward the stove, as she sat Gilda’s heaped plate onto the table. An uncomfortable look crossed Goose’s face. She swallowed nervously as she tore her eyes away from Gilda to glance at the heap of fried fish the gryphon was making a beeline for. “I’m on duty, Curry. But thank you. The little bit you gave me was enough.” “No you ain’t,” Curry said firmly. “You said you were off duty when the sun came up. Sun’s been up for near on an hour. And you can’t go by that little piece. It was all dried out and overcooked. You got to try the real deal before you can make up your mind. Sit,” Curry said in a firm voice, gesturing to the opposite side of the table from where Gilda was eyeing the food with a certain amount of trepidation, as if suddenly unsure of what she’d let herself in for. Gilda glanced over at Curry as the snipe busied herself slipping a single piece of fish onto a plate for Goose. The gryphon’s expression made it pretty clear that she was wondering if she dared try to eat something the peculiar creature had cooked. She glanced across at where Goose was settling herself in place, and a moment of understanding passed between them as Curry slid a plate with a single small fillet in front of the nocturne. The snipe stepped back, her arms crossed over her chest and with an expectant look that pretty much demanded some sort of response. Gilda poked at the oddly-cooked fish with a claw, while Goose fumbled with a table knife. They exchanged looks, and each of them separated a small piece from the whole. Gilda speared her’s with a claw, while Goose set aside the knife and leaned down to gingerly pick up her piece between her teeth. She rolled her eyes to the side to see Curry watching intently, gave a sigh, and started chewing. Gilda watched as the nocturne’s jaw stopped moving and her eyes widened. “It’s good. Really good,” Goose said, surprise in her voice. That was all Gilda needed to hear, though considering how empty her stomach felt, Goose simply not dying on the spot might have been enough. She lifted the bite-sized morsel on her claw and popped it into her beak, giving it a couple of extra bites to bring out the flavor potential, similar to the way she tended to eat the rare muffin or pastry that came her way. It was Gilda’s turn to have her eyes go wide in surprise as a medley of tastes flooded her taste buds. Some like the fish, butter, and pepper, she was familiar with, others she’d never tried before. They all went together to make a whole far greater than the parts, and her crop gave a happy rumble when she swallowed. She speared an entire grilled fish and stuffed it into her beak, her crop growling urgently, telling her to get a move on. Despite that, she took the time to slice and dice the fish between her beak’s cutting edges in order to maximize the flavor. In the meantime, Goose was looking down at the remaining fish on her plate, a mingled expression of hunger and guilt on her face. It was clear that while she had found her serving tasty, she wasn’t reconciled to eating something that had sported a face before being prepared for the pan. Seeing that Curry had turned back to the oven and was rolling some more fillets in a bowl of corn-meal, Goose casually slid her plate toward Gilda, who snatched the remaining fillet without even bothering to look up at Goose, although there might have been a short grunt which could have charitably been interpreted as “Thanks.” “Done? Do you want another piece, Goose?” Curry asked from where she was laying the freshly battered fish into the pan. Goose looked up and met Curry’s inquiring look, and despite thinking it made her a horrible pony, said, “No thanks. It was really delicious, but I’ve eaten all I possibly could.” “How about you, Gilda?” Gilda’s response to the inquiry was to shove her plate closer to Curry while running her tongue along her beak in order to recover every possible crumb. Only once she was sure that there were no fragments of fish left did she look up and say, “Sure. I guess. Gryphons don’t waste food.” “Should only be a few minutes,” Curry said cheerfully. As she kept an eye on the grilling fish, she ate a portion she had set aside for herself, making little humming sounds of pleasure as she did so. *** In the end, Gilda polished off a good twenty pounds of fried brook trout before she pushed herself away from the table with a happy sigh of repletion. She leisurely licked her claws while looking at Curry from under half-lowered eyelids as the snipe cleaned the dishes with some help from Goose. “Want a job?” she asked from out of nowhere in a lazy half-sleeping sort of tone. “I’m in training to be a Royal Guard,” a startled Goose said. “Not, you, Wings. The snipe, Curry. Do you want a job?” she repeated. “Doing what?” Curry asked curiously. “Cooking for the Wingmaster of the Misty Mountain Aerie.” “Does Frankenpony like fish that much?” Curry asked in surprise. “Who?” Gilda asked, her face screwing up in confusion. “You know. That Pony who came by the other day and told you to behave yourself? The one who looked like somepony sewed him together from the parts of a bunch of ponies?” “Oh, Lumpy,” Gilda said, the mystery solved. She gave a shake of her head. “He doesn’t matter. One way or another he’s not going to be Wingmaster for much longer. So. How about it. Want to come work for my Nest?” Gilda’s asked in a tone that was only half-joking. “Nah, got too much work to do here. And, the commute would be a killer,’ Curry said, mimicking something she’d often heard people in town say about going to work in the big city. “Well, you all sure are looking cozy,” Rainbow Dash remarked from the doorway. She fluttered inside and was followed by Fluttershy carrying a basket full of eggs in her mouth. Gilda’s lethargic pose stiffened slightly. “Dashy,” she said in greeting, her eyes not quite meeting those of Rainbow Dash. “How you doing, Gilda?” Rainbow asked, settling down beside the lounging gryphon. She gave Gilda a soft playful poke in her slightly distended crop. “If you don’t get flying soon, you’re going to be too fat to move.” Gilda still wouldn’t meet Rainbow Dash’s eyes. “I had this weird dream last night, Dashy. I said some stuff. Personal sort of stuff.” She lifted her head and looked at the pegasus pony who was close enough for her to reach out and touch. “Was it a dream?” she asked after a moment. Rainbow went still for a moment, and then she reached out and cupped a wing behind Gilda’s head and pulled it forward so she could lean in and bump her own forehead against that of the gryphon. “Nah. It wasn’t a dream, beak face,” she said in a soft voice while she maintained the pose, pressing her head against that of Gilda. Curry, her eyes wide, leaned forward so as to not miss a single thing. Goose, right beside her, was watching the scene with equal interest, and a wide-eyed nocturne was a sight to behold. “Curry, Goose, could you lend me a hand out in the yard?” Fluttershy asked out of the blue, startling the two eavesdroppers. Before Curry could either agree or demur, Fluttershy swept her up in a wing and hustled her toward the door. Goose trotted hastily after, with only a few quick looks backward before she exited. Curry’s voice floated back into the house, “Aww, but mom, it was just getting interesting.” Any further comment from the peanut gallery was cut off when Goose closed the door after her. “I’m not going to cut you any slack,” Rainbow said. “Have I ever asked for any?” Gilda retorted softly. “You mess up. I will ‘buck you up’.” “If you can.” “Oh, I can.” Gilda gave a huge sigh and rubbed her head against Rainbow Dash. “I’ve missed you, Dashy. I didn’t realize how much till it all went down back home, and I realized how much I needed you at my back.” “What, none of those, cockerels who were always sniffing around you in the spring would lend a wing?” Gilda gave a soft bitter laugh. “Them? They could only think of one thing at a time. In mating season, it was mating, and when it wasn’t the mating season, it was themselves. That was bad enough, but they all used to wet themselves if my father even looked at them cross-eyed. None of them were ever half the gryphon you were, Dashy. What about you. How come you don’t have a string of stallions chasing your tail?” “Because I’ve yet to meet one who could catch me. You know me, Gilda. I don’t settle for second best. You should have known that the last time you were here and dissed my friends.” Gilda winced slightly but did not pull away. “Yeah, I should have. They wouldn’t be your friends if they weren’t something special.” Gilda paused, closing her eyes and taking as deep a breath as her injuries would allow, before continuing. “Dashy? I don’t know if I’ll ever manage another visit. After I heal up, that is. There’s a lot of things coming up. This was sort of my last chance to try and put things right.” “Hey, now. Who do you think you’re talking to? I can get from here to the Misty Mountains in a day if I push it. Heck, I could do it backward. Don’t think I’m going to let you slip away again.” Gilda pulled her head back and blinked her eyes quickly as if to remove an irritant. “Thank you for being my friend, Dashy. Want a fishy?” A look of disgust crossed Rainbow’s face as she reared back slightly at the sudden shift in topic. “Don’t even suggest that,” she said, giving a laughing Gilda a light swat across the beak with her wing. “How you can eat those disgusting, slimy, wiggling things, I’ll never know.” “You should have your little snipe cook you up one. You might be surprised,” Gilda said in a superior tone. “Unless you’re afraid?” “Hey. Rainbow Dash isn’t afraid of anything.” “Then it’s a date. You and I’ll have supper tonight. Fresh fried fish. I’ll let you have two of mine. Just because I’m such a good friend.” “Hey, wait. I never said I’d eat one,” Rainbow protested. Gilda just waved a dismissive wing at Rainbow as she limped back to her nest. “Crippled invalid here. Let me sleep. Wake me when supper is ready.” ~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ Goose let out a huge yawn as she helped Curry rake the chicken yard, much to her embarrassment. Fluttershy looked up from where she had been reassuring the chickens that the dangerous looking dragon-winged pony had no intention of eating them. “Oh, my. How bad of me to forget. You need to sleep during the day, don’t you, Miss Goose? You must be very tired. Would you like me to make you up a bed? I have lots of spare room right now with all the critters denning up for winter.” “You don’t need to bother. I can trot back to the tent. It’s not that far,” Goose said, stifling another yawn behind a raised hoof. “If Miss Fluttershy does not mind, you may stay here.” Shadow’s voice came from above them, and this time even Curry jumped in surprise. Strangely, while she gave a shocked ‘eep’, Fluttershy didn’t run for the cottage in a panic. She did shift protectively toward Curry, her wings opening in a defensive manner. “Dang it. Don’t do that,” Curry snarled, her heart racing. She peered up into the tree, wondering how she’d missed him this time. She’d checked right after she’d come out into the yard, she knew she had. Look as she could, she wasn’t able to spot the hidden pony. *** Up in the tree, Shadow smirked from his position directly behind the thick trunk. Curry might somehow be able to see into the shadows he usually hid in, but it seemed even she couldn’t see through a solid chunk of wood. He wondered how long she’d waste staring at empty shadows before she figured out the simple trick. *** “Is it really okay for Goose to stay?” Curry called out as she shaded her eyes with a hand and carefully checked every single pool of shade she could spot. “That is your mother’s decision to make. But, as Goose’s commanding officer, I have no objection.” “Mom,” Curry said, loading an entire paragraph of pleading into that one word as she turned and looked at Fluttershy with her best puppy-dog expression. Fluttershy had an extremely low resistance to puppies, and all other things cute. So it wasn’t really fair of Curry to go right to def-cute five with nothing in between. She shot a nervous look toward the nocturne mare, but despite her obvious discomfort said, “Of course. I’ll make up a room for her right away.” “Ahh?” Goose said to draw Fluttershy’s attention. Ducking her head slightly and pawing at the dirt with a nervous hoof, she continued, “If you have a closet with enough room for me to lie down in, that is all I need.” Goose’s own embarrassment and discomfort seemed to ease Fluttershy’s nervousness somewhat and she adopted a thoughtful look. “Well, I do have a nook under the staircase that Hairy sometimes dens in when he stays overnight. You should be comfortable there if you don’t mind sleeping on straw.” “That sounds wonderful,” Goose said. “Let me show you where it is,” Fluttershy offered. “I can do that, Mom,” Curry hurriedly said, laying a proprietary hand on Goose’s neck. “You might want to stay out here to greet your guests,” Shadow offered from his perch. “More visitors,” Fluttershy asked, her tone alarmed. “Just Prince Jake and some friends,” Shadow said in a reassuring tone. “I’ll be here to look over Curry if you wish to show Goose where she can sleep.” “Is Sweetie Belle with them?” Curry asked, looking torn. “Unicorn foal from the press conference at the tent? Just a minute. Yes, she’s with Prince Jake. Along with three other fillies that were there, and one that I don’t recognize.” “Will you be okay?” Curry asked a bemused Goose in a solicitous tone. “I think I can manage with your mother’s help,” Goose answered seriously, though there was a slight quirk at the corner of her lip that might have been a smile. With a last longing look toward Goose’s departing backside, Curry turned and hurried down the front path to the gate, and from there headed down the lane in the direction of Sweet Apple Acres. She’d only gone fifty yards or so when she started to pick up the sound of the approaching ponies. Jake's voice was the first she could pick out of the mixture of voices, much like a young goose in the midst of a flock of ducklings. Despite being reduced in size, he still maintained the erratic volume control of a young colt his actual age and tended to a tone of voice that could make your ears ache at short range when he got excited. He was talking about her to somepony, which had to be the fiily Shadow had not been able to identify. “Curry is the best big brother ever,” Jake was saying. A moment later he said, “Curry can’t be my sister. You’re my sister. She’s not even a mare.” There was a soft murmuring of voices that Curry could not quite make out followed by Jake speaking in a querulous tone. “Well, that’s silly. Why should it matter if Curry got one or ain’t got one? Sweetie Belle has a horn. Scootaloo has wings. But you don’t try and say they is not fillies because of that.” Curry found herself flushing a little, and hurried her steps, as Apple Bloom’s voice became clear enough to understand. “Look, just trust me on this, Jake. It makes a difference. Just because Curry is a snipe and not a pony doesn’t change the rules.” Curry imagined she could hear the embarrassment in Apple Bloom’s voice as she added, "Look, you ask Big Mac to explain how come.” Curry rounded the corner and spotted the small herd of ponies in front of her. Because of his height, Jake stood out, but Scootaloo was actually a dozen yards ahead of the group, looking back over her shoulder when Curry first spotted her. Diamond Tiara was pacing Jake, taking two strides for every one of his. She was wearing a big smile and looked on the verge of bursting into laughter for some reason. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle were on the opposite side of Jake from Di, and while Sweetie Belle looked amused, Apple Bloom looked flustered and mildly embarrassed at Jake’s stubborn insistence on re-writing basic biology. Curry could sympathize a little. While he was, in general, an easygoing cuss, Jake was prone to notions from time to time that nothing seemed able to shake. Such as anything in the apple bin was his, no matter how often you told him to stay out of it. What Curry did not see was an unfamiliar pony. It wasn’t till a voice with a distinct New York accent spoke up from somewhere behind Jake that she was able to place the location of the new filly, even if she still could not see her. “Youse still hasn’t told me jest whose this Curry is, and wat she is.” Just then Scootaloo turned her head and spotted Curry. She gave the snipe a broad grin, along with a wink, and shouted over her shoulder. “As we said, Curry is a lot easier to explain once you meet her.” Not slow on catching a hint, Curry stepped side-ways into some nearby bushes, knowing that Rarity’s magic outfit would help her blend into the foliage and shadows. “Come on, youse gals, give a pony a break heah. Hows abouts a little hint?” Jake and the other foals had been too involved in the discussion to spot her before she vanished from sight and they continued to follow Scootaloo, who didn’t even pause as she came abreast of where Curry had vanished into the bushes. Curry watched curiously as the new filly came into sight. She had a faded red mane with light pink stripes that were cropped short, matching her bobbed tail. Her coat was an orangey brown, while her eyes were green. Freckles decorated her cheeks and helped increase her resemblance to a street kid from those ancient dead-end kids movies Old Ben loved. As they tended to be a bit short on acceptable — to Curry — female characters, they were not her favorites, but certain images did stick in her mind. “Just be patient for another minute, Babs. We’re almost to Fluttershy’s cottage,” Apple Bloom told the pony. Babs swung out a bit and moved up till she was alongside Di. Curry stepped out into the path behind the ponies, and followed on silent feet, running on her tiptoes in order to keep up with their pace. Curry was feeling very proud. It wasn’t easy to sneak up on horses. It was also a very bad idea, but she’d make sure she wasn’t in kicking range when she sprang her presence on them. Not that she was anywhere near as sneaky as Goose and her brother had been in the tent. That had been awesome. Thinking about Shadow reminded her that he had been able to see Jake and the fillies from his perch up in the tree, that meant he could likely see her right now. This was a perfect chance to show him what she could do. She might not be any use in a fight, what with everypony being ponies, and gryphons, but with the help of Rarity’s outfits, she could be as sneaky as any pony. More she bet. There was a heck of a lot less of her to hide in the shadows. She redoubled her efforts to be sneaky, playing to her unseen audience. It didn’t take very long for the ponies to reach Fluttershy’s cottage. They spread out into a single file to fit through the gate, Babs, looking at Fluttershy’s tree home nervously, brought up the tail end. Curry was right on Babs tail, about five feet back. Any second now, Curry knew that the ponies would start milling around the yard, and no matter how sneaky she was, they’d spot her, so if her prank was to have the maximum effect, it had to be now. “Fee Fi Fo Fum,” Curry shouted, trying to make her voice as deep as possible. The effect was everything she could have desired. Babs jumped about three feet straight up and landed running. Sweetie Belle was near as startled, she whirled in place, lowering her head so her horn was pointing toward the shout, and with her backside protected by Jake’s bulk. Apple Bloom and Di both jumped to the side, unfortunately, toward each other. They collided and went down in a tangle of limbs. Scootaloo rolled over on her back, her legs kicking in the air, as she laughed her ass off. Jake, after an initial start that caused him to toss his head, stood his ground, just like he’d been trained to do when there were sudden unexpected loud noises. He twisted his head around and gave Curry a sour look. “Bad Curry,” he said. He made a production of turning his back on her. Being careful to step around Apple Bloom and Di who kept tripping each other up as they tried to get to their feet, he ambled over to where Babs’ tail was sticking out from under a low hanging bush. “Don’t be scared, Babs. Curry was just being silly. She usually isn’t mean like this.” Curry winced, the joke not seeming nearly as funny all of a sudden. Full of sudden contrition, she trotted over to Jake and crouched down so she could address Babs’ bobtail. “Yo, like, I’m totally sowy I acted like a joik. Youse all should just come on out,” Curry said in a simply awful New York accent. “That is the wost Manehatten accent I’ve evea head!” Babs exclaimed, her voice firming up as she spoke. She started inching herself backward. “You should hear my Canadian one, eh.” Curry joked as she reached forward to move a branch that was snagging Babs’ mane. “I ain’t nevea head of Canadian, where at is that?” “No place you ever heard of,” Curry said, taking a step backward as Babs pulled herself out from under the bush and turned around. “I think she means, Caneighdian,” Sweetie Belle suggested from the side, earning her a surprised look from Curry, who missed the expression that crossed Babs’ face when she got a look at who she’d been talking to. “Holy moly, what the heck is you?” Babs shouted, looking like she was about to dive back under the bush. Only the presence of Jake standing right next to Curry seemed to keep her calm enough to stand her ground on shivering legs. “This is Curry. Say you’re sorry proper, Curry,” Jake demanded. “I’m sorry I scared you, Babs. I sort of got too into the whole sneaking thing.” “Scaed? Who was scaed? Not me. I was just, what you call it, making a tactical retreat, yous know?” “Just look at my mane. Thanks to your prank, it’s a disaster,” Di complained as she trotted up to Curry and made a show of shaking dust and dirt out of her hide, and all over Curry, who went into a coughing fit. “Okay, okay, you’ve made your point. I’ll go get my brushes and clean it out for you,” She told Di, making a hasty retreat from the cloud of dust the normally dirt phobic pony had raised. “You should give Scootaloo a good brushing as well,” Di said. “Who knows when the last time she was curried properly.” “Hey, are you calling me dirty,” Scootaloo blustered, marching right up to Di, and then beating a hasty retreat when Di looked her straight in the eyes and fluttered her eyelashes. “Heavens no. I was just thinking you might find it easier to fly if you shed that ten pounds of ground in dirt you’re hauling around.” “I’m not dirty!” Scootaloo said with some heat. “I stood under a raincloud just two days ago,” Scootaloo protested, keeping a safe distance from Di. “Briefly,” she added after a few moments of Di’s skeptical look. Babs was ignoring the debate, in favor of intently watching the doorway, Curry had just vanished into. “Okay. I’ve seen her, now what the heck is she?” the Manehatten pony demanded. “She’s a Snipe,” Apple Bloom said. “And a princess,” Sweetie Belle added. “The princess of the Snipes.” “Well, seeing as how she’s the only Snipe, she’s sort of only the princess of herself,” Apple Bloom qualified. “She’s the one who made Jake an Alicorn,” Di said, and almost instantly looked like she wished she’d held her tongue. “Or so I heard some commoners saying. I’m sure it’s not true.” “I’ve never heard that,” Apple Bloom said. “And you’d do well never to tell it to anypony else,” a gravely voice over their head said sternly, drawing a shriek from Babs as she tried to dive back under her bush. Only the fact that Jake snagged her tail in his mouth kept her from doing so. All the other fillies jumped in surprise, but this time stayed on their feet. Jake’s hide had quivered, but he stood his ground as he released Babs’ tail and looked up into the branches. “Shadow. That was mean.” “I apologize, Prince Jake. I did not mean to scare your young fillies, but it is very important they do not go spreading false rumors about Princess Moonlight. “Dumb, dumb, idiot,” Di muttered under her breath while wearing a look that said she’d do anything to be able to go back in time and shove a hoof into her own mouth. “I don’t get it. What’s the big deal? Everypony knows that snipes grant wishes,” Scootaloo protested, while Jake urged Babs out from under her bush. “But it only works if you catch them. And we can’t catch Curry, because she’s not running away,” Scoot added with what she felt was impeccable logic. “But not everypony believes that,” Shadow’s voice floated down from above. “It would be very bad if somepony, like those newspaper reporters the other day, started spreading the rumor that Princess Curry can create Alicorns at will.” “Who’s up theah,” Babs’ asked in a quivering voice as she worked up the nerve to join the rest of the ponies in staring up into the tree. “That’s Shadow. His sister stayed at our house for a few days, and he spent a night as well. They’re nocturne ponies,” Apple Bloom explained. Babs turned pale and she gave her cousin a disbelieving look. “Is you telling me theah is a Bat Pony sitting up in that tree, and youse all is just standing around in the open?” She asked in a faint voice. “Sure, Shadow and Goose are cool, “ Apple Bloom said, giving a puzzled shrug as if to say, what’s the big deal? “They’re nice,” Jake said, giving his seal of approval. “Shadow Dash is a Drill Instructor for the Royal Guard. He was ranked fourth overall in sparring last year with a .875 victory record and seven Technical Knockouts,” Scootaloo said in a tone that seemed to indicate Shadow’s rank was somewhere above that of anything so mundane as princesses. “How do you know that?” Di asked from right next to Scootaloo, causing the pegasus to dance a few steps to the side. “Trading cards,” Scootaloo answered, while looking at Di nervously, as if she half expected the other pony to explode, or do something just as startling, any minute. “I have a trading card?” asked the bodiless voice. “Oh yeah. I’ve got almost all of them. Shining Armor, Sergeant Chert, but yours is the coolest of them all. They didn’t have any pictures of you to put on it, so it’s just this big pool of shadow with two glowing eyes staring straight at you. If you prop it up on your nightstand it looks like the eyes follow you around the room.” Scootaloo gave a shiver of delight. “They glow in the dark, too.” There was silence from above for a few seconds, and then the disembodied voice asked in a casual tone, “Maybe one day you could show it to me?” “I’ll run home right now and get it,” Scootaloo cried out, turning tail with the clear intention of carrying through on her words. Di caught Scoot’s tail between her teeth and hauled her to a stop. “Not till Curry brushes out that dreadful coat of yours,” she muttered between her mouthful of rather gamey tail hair, just as Curry emerged from the house with a small battered carrying case in her hands. Babs had gone stiff legged when Curry emerged from the house, but when the small snipe paid no attention to her and got to work brushing out Scootaloo’s hide, raising great clouds of dust in the process, she relaxed slowly and eased forward, her eyes full of wary curiosity. “Is she really a princess?” she asked her cousin, even though Curry was only a few feet away. It was Curry who replied, not turning her head from her work. “I ain’t a princess, not really. But Princess Celestia said I was, and Princess Luna went along with the scam, so I ain’t going to argue with them. Sometimes it’s fun. Most times it’s a pain. Like when somepony says princesses can’t wrestle in the dirt like common ruffians.” Curry shot Di a quick mischievous look as she said the last bit, putting an annoyed expression on Diamond Tiara’s face, as she gave a sniff and looked away from Curry. Curry took hold of one of Scootaloo's wings and pulled it out so she could brush under it, drawing helpless giggles from the tomcolt. The snipe refused to let the pegasus filly loose till she was sure she’d gotten every burr and clump of dust out from under the sensitive wing. Even after she released her grip on the pony’s wing she examined it closely. Curry lightly drew one of the long flight feathers between two of her fingers. “Your feathers seem dry. Have you been preening properly?” she asked as if she’d been dealing with wings for her entire life, and not just in the last couple of hours. Scootaloo blushed and mumbled something too soft for anypony to hear. “What was that?” Curry asked as her fingers flicked along Scootaloo’s dirty feathers, hooking the barbicels of one feather to the one adjacent to it without really thinking about what she was doing. It was a little bit like doing up dozens of tiny little zippers. “I said, not that long ago,” Scootaloo whispered. “Same time as you took your last shower?” Curry teased, moving onto the next set of primary feathers and disturbing a second cloud of powdery dust. “No! Well, the day before,” Scootaloo admitted. “It wasn’t my fault. I was busy practicing this really sick trick, and then we had the whole thing with the reporters and I just didn’t have time.” “I bet Rainbow Dash always finds the time,” Diamond Tiara said with a sniff from where she had crept up on the other side of Scootaloo. The pegasus blushed deeply and made an aborted attempt to flee, pulled up short by Curry’s grip on her feathers. “Oh, good. I’m almost done here. I can clean all the muck out of your coat now, Di,” Curry said in a pleased voice. Then in her best mother hen voice, learned from dozens of family movies, she asked, “Have you been brushing and picking your hooves twice a day? You know you might get hoof rot if you don’t take care of them.” This time Diamond Tiara was the one who blushed when she had to admit she’d been negligent in proper hoof care, while Scootaloo snickered softly. “And you were wrong about Scoot’s having ten pounds of dirt ground into her hide. It was more like eleven,” Curry said, cutting off Scootaloo’s laughter at the roots. *** “There you go Babs,” Curry said, resisting the urge to give the nervous city pony a swat on the flank. The poor thing’s hide hadn’t stopped twitching the whole time Curry had spent brushing her down and she didn’t want to push it. Despite that, given her obvious nervousness, Curry felt Babs had stood her ground like a real trooper. “Thanks,” Babs said, taking a few quick steps away from Curry before craning her neck around to check out her now gleaming hide. Her eyes widened in appreciation. “Hey, poetty snazzy. Yous do nice woak. Yous aught to open up a baoba shop.” “You’re welcome,” Curry said, lacing her fingers together behind her back and stretching out the kinks she’d developed with all the bending she’d done working around the foals. It was a good sort of ache. The kind you got because you were having so much fun doing something you didn’t even notice the aches until you were finished. Her stretching brought Sweetie Belle into her line of sight. Unlike the three ponies Curry had just groomed, her immaculate coat hadn’t even needed a touch-up, which meant she was likely staying with her sister at the moment. Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom were currently standing on their hind legs on either side of Jake, putting the finishing touches to his brushing. The sight reminded her of why she’d been so keen on seeing the little unicorn before she’d been distracted by Babs and the need to groom her clients. “Sweetie Belle?” Curry asked in a soft voice as she walked over to the unicorn. Sweetie directed an inquiring look over her shoulder at Curry, who lowered her voice even more as she asked out of the side of her mouth. “Did you ask Rarity about the thing?” Sweetie Belle looked blank for a moment, and then her eyes lit up. “Yeah. I did just like you said. I asked Rarity if she had any magic books I could study, and she said all her old school books were boxed up over at our parent’s house. She didn’t know anything about the book you found in my bags the other day.” Sweetie twisted her head around and extracted the book from somewhere inside her mane. It made Curry’s neck hurt just to watch her do it. “Yes!” Curry fist pumped after Sweetie Belle handed her the book. “I knew it. It’s the real deal. The type that pops up when somepony really needs it, or who are destined to have it.” Curry paused a moment before she continued, but she’d been over this in her head last night and had promised herself she was not going to make the same mistake she had with Jake. So, giving a soft regretful sigh, she plastered an expression of happiness and congratulated her friend on her good fortune. “You’re so lucky it picked you, Sweetie Belle. This is going to be awesome. I can’t wait to see what you can pull off with it.” Despite her regrets about the situation, Curry’s enthusiasm was genuine. “What are you talking about, Curry?” Apple Bloom asked as she tossed her front legs over Jake’s back and pulled herself up to look at Curry and Sweetie Belle. Curry looked chagrined as she suddenly realized she’d gotten carried away in her excitement. The fillies, and Jake were fairly safe, as long as Jake didn’t blab about it to Big Mac. They were kids, even if they were ponies. It was adults you needed to keep in the dark about this sort of stuff. With that in mind, Curry glanced upward, surprised Goose’s brother hadn’t already laid down the word from above on this. For the first time that day she managed to spot Shadow. He was stretched out along a thick branch like a big old puma, only in the shade and not the sun. His eyes were closed and his breathing regular. The snot bubble inflating and deflating from one of his nostrils was pretty good proof he really was sleeping. It also sort of spoiled the whole wicked cool look he otherwise was projecting. While Curry was checking out potential adult complications, Sweetie Belle was filling in the fillies. “Curry found a magic book in my saddlebags the other day at the tent. We think it’s one of those special books, like in the stories.” “No way!” Scootaloo exclaimed, vibrating in excitement. “Can you use it to cast a spell?” Di asked Curry, crowding in close, her eyes gleaming avariciously. “Not me,” Curry replied, remembering to keep her voice low this time. “I’m not a Unicorn like the pony who wrote it, and it was in Sweetie Belle’s saddle bag, so that must mean it’s for her,” Curry replied, unable to completely keep a touch of disappointment in her voice, which faded away almost instantly as she contemplated the potential fun to be had, and her secret hope that despite her not being a unicorn, there might be something in the book Sweetie Belle could use to give her real genuine, not borrowed from somepony, magic. “That mean’s Y'all might be able to get a magic cutie mark like Twilight Sparkle,” Apple Bloom told Sweetie Belle in a voice filled with happiness for her friend. “And if you cast a big enough spell, maybe we’ll all get our cutie marks, just like Rainbow Dash’s sonic rainboom gave it to Twilight and the rest of the Elements,” Scootaloo said. “Well, the Sonic Rainboom didn’t actually ‘give’ them their cutie marks,” Sweetie Belle said. “It sort of inspired them at just the right moment. That’s what Twilight told Rarity.” Scootaloo answered Sweetie Belle’s argument by twisting it. “That’s what I meant. You pull off a big spell, and it’ll jump start me and Apple Bloom, oh, and Babs.” Scootaloo held up a hoof, giving her friends a meaningful look till they joined her. “Come on Babs. Join us,” she encouraged the city pony. Once all four fillies were in position, Scootaloo led the cheer. “Cutie Mark Crusaders, Magic Casters!” Diamond Tiara glared at the blank flanks, a bit annoyed at how oblivious they were to the reality of what was really going on here. She looked over to where Curry was leafing through the book Sweetie Belle had hoofed her, not really paying much attention to anypony else. Diamond Tiara wasn’t fooled in the least by the line Curry had just spun. The spell book hadn’t just appeared in the unicorn’s saddle bag. Curry had placed it there. A snake of jealousy twisted in Diamond Tiara’s chest for a moment until she realized that this had to be another test Curry was giving her. How well did she deal with other ponies’ good fortune? So, Di plastered a look of happiness on her face as she stared indulgently at the celebrating blank flanks. Curry pulled a soggy strand of hair away from her head and stared cross-eyed at the badly singed tip. “I’m really sorry, Curry,” Sweetie Belle said in a deeply apologetic tone. Her chagrined face was blackened with soot and her soggy mane was as crispy at the tips as Curry’s hair. “What for?” Curry asked, her eyes sparkling as she looked at the small puddle of wax that a moment before had been a two-pound candle. “Quick thinking, Apple Bloom,” Curry added, glancing at the farm-pony who was setting a red fire bucket back down by the clubhouse door. Apple Bloom simply rolled her eyes toward Sweetie Belle as if to imply it wasn’t so much quick thinking as it was routine. “Is it safe to come out now? Have you quite finished blowing things up?” Di’s querulous voice came from the other side of a plank table, which had been set on its edge against the wall on the other side of the clubhouse. Scootaloo poked her head up over the table lip for a moment, only to have it shoved back down by Di’s hoof from below. “Idiot, are you looking to lose your head?” Di snapped. “It’s all clear, everypony,” Apple Bloom called out, after taking a look over at Curry and Sweetie Belle to make sure. The two singed girls were oblivious to the look, being bent over the spellbook, deep in discussion as to where they had gone wrong. “I don’t think you made a mistake,” Sweetie,” Curry said, her brow furrowed as she strained to make out the faded writing in the dimness of the clubhouse. “Youse got to be jokin’. That wasn’t a mistake?” Babs, who had emerged, rather reluctantly from behind the table, asked, pointing a quivering hoof toward the small puddle of wax, and the circle of charred wood that surrounded it. “Using the candle that was a mistake, not how she cast the spell. We didn’t read the page in front of it first. Turns out the wizard who wrote this had the job of lighting the Hearth’s Warming Eve bonfire. He came up with this spell to do it.” Di stared at Curry with an expression of disbelief. “Let me get this straight, you used a spell meant to light a huge pile of wood, to try and light a candle?” Her voice grew higher in pitch as she spoke, till she was almost squealing by the time she finished. “Six big trees,” Sweetie Belle said in an absent-minded tone as she ran her hoof across the page. “Pardon,” Di snapped, whipping her head around from Curry to stare at the unicorn filly in shock. “There are some fancy sort of numbers here I don’t rightly understand, but I think he was trying to figure out how many cords of wood you could get out of six big oak trees. I think that was how big the bonfire was,” Curry said in an absent-minded sort of way from where her head was pressed against Sweetie Belle’s. Sweetie Belle and Curry exchanged looks. “There are all those trees Jake and Big Mac pulled up.” Sweetie Belle said in a tentative tone. “We could get Jake to drag a bunch of them into a big---” Curry finished for her. “No. I forbid it. Absolutely not,’ Di broke in. “You are not going to blow yourself up because you’re too stupid to know better.” Curry stared at the fancy pony in surprise, for the first time taking note of how violently Diamond Tiara was shaking. “Are you okay, Di?” she asked. “Am I all right? Am I all right? NO! I am not all right! You could have killed us! You could have killed yourself! What in Equestria were you thinking?” “Now, calm down, Di,” Curry said in a soothing tone, holding her hand palm outward toward the agitated pony. “I will not!” Di said, stamping her hoof hard against the floor. “Are you okay,” Di?” Jake asked in concern, sticking his head into the clubhouse from outside. “Why does everyone keep asking me that? Am I the only one here who understands how close we came to being turned into roasted ponies?” Off to the side, Babs tentatively raised a hoof and was ignored by everypony else. “Is this, Di being a big sister, Curry?” Jake asked. “Nah, just Di---” Scootaloo started to say, only to be cut off by Diamond Tiara. “Yes. Yes, it is. This is “exactly” like being a big sister,” Di said. “I’m the oldest. I have my Cutie Mark. I totally, absolutely forbid you from using that book.” “Well, you can’t exactly do that, Di. It’s not your book. It’s Sweetie Belle’s,” Curry said, in a tone that said she was becoming annoyed with Di’s silly behavior. “Just watch me,” Di said, darting forward and snatching up the book before either Curry or Sweetie Belle could react. She pushed past Jake and raced down the clubhouse ramp. “Di, you come back here right now,” Curry yelled after the departing pony, getting only a dismissive flick from Di’s tail for her trouble. “Come on, let’s get her.” Curry told the other ponies.”Scootaloo, she can’t outrun you. Get after her before she does something with Sweetie Belle’s book.” Curry turned to run down the ramp, leading the other ponies, only to find a roadblock in the form of Jake in the way. “Get out of the way, Jake. I have to catch her.” “No,” Jake said, planting his hooves solidly on the ramp as he used his body to block the way. “No? What do you mean, no?” Curry said in total shock. Unable to believe that Jake was not listening to her. “Di is a big sister. You told me so. I have to listen to you. You’re my big broth… sister. You have to listen to Di. She’s a bigger sister.” “It doesn’t work that way,” Curry said heatedly, and then moderated her tone when Jake folded his ears back and tucked his chin down. “Di isn’t my big sister.” “Yes, she is,” Jake said stubbornly. “Help me here, girls,” Curry turned to the fillies. “Maybe... Diamond Tiara was right,” Sweetie Belle suggested hesitantly, glancing over at the charred circle on the floor, her eyes a bit frightened as if she had only just now realized how perilous the entire situation could have been. “If my magic hadn’t been so weak…” she started to say and then trailed off with a shudder. Curry looked at Sweetie in shock. “But Di isn’t right. We had it all under control. You were doing great,” the small snipe protested. She looked at the other girls, and they all averted their eyes, not meeting her gaze. A deep feeling of hurt constricted her chest in reaction to their rejection of her side of the argument. “Fine! Take her side. If you don’t want to be the greatest magician ever, see if I care.” Curry said, her eyes full of angry tears as she pushed past Jake, who tried to nuzzle her as she passed but had his muzzle shoved away with an open palm for his efforts. Jake gave a big sad sigh as he watched Curry run across the clearing and disappear into the brush. “She’s mad,” he said. “I’m sure she’ll get over it,” Apple Bloom said, her tone uncertain despite her positive words. Her own family were not always the most even-tempered ponies around when they didn’t have to worry about company manners. But, Curry wasn’t an Apple, Apple Bloom wasn’t sure if snipes cooled off fast or slow. “Course she will.” Jake’s tone was still sad, but there was none of Apple Bloom’s uncertainty in it. “Last time, I stepped on her foot. She yelled, loud. She didn’t come for a week, only Old Ben. But she came back with a big white boot on her hoof. She brushed me, hard, and said bad words. But. she didn’t mean them. I could tell. After, she gave me five apples and said it wasn’t my fault.” “Should we go after her?” Scootaloo asked. Apple Bloom pondered the question. When she got upset at her family, she mostly just wanted to burrow into a haystack and sulk for a few hours by herself. “Maybe, best just to let her be for a bit,” she said tentatively, looking at Jake for his opinion. He just shrugged. Rainbow and Gilda broke off their conversation as Curry stormed into the cottage, and did her best to slam the heavy front door behind her. Without even glancing their way she ran up the steps and a moment later, the sound of her bedroom door slamming floated down to them. She had a little better luck with the lighter door than she’d had with the front one, and the echo of its closing reverberated through the house for a few moments. Rainbow looked upward uncertainly. An hour ago, a bird had brought news that the beavers were having a dispute with some Timberwolves, who had not been amused when one of the beaver’s kits had chewed through their alpha’s leg while he was dozing. Fluttershy had gone off to play referee, assuring Rainbow Dash that she’d be fine. Rainbow in turn had promised to keep an eye on Curry when she returned from playing with the Cutie Mark Crusaders, and to make sure Gilda took her medicine on schedule⁽*⁾. She was now regretting her breezy assurance to Fluttershy that she’d handle everything, and not to worry. (*) Not that Rainbow believed for one second that Fluttershy was actually heading off to mediate with a scary Timberwolf. It couldn’t have been more obvious, or so it seemed to her, that her friend had simply arranged the emergency call to give Rainbow time alone with Gilda. “I suppose I should go up and see what’s bothering her,’ Rainbow said in a tone that indicated she very much wanted Gilda to tell her it wasn’t necessary if the look she directed at her friend was anything to go by. ‘Don’t look at me. What I know about fledglings you could write on the sharp end of a pin. All I do know is that if she doesn’t cook dinner for me, I’m going to be looking for something meaty to take a bite out of,’ Gilda said, finishing with a grin as she snapped her beak at Rainbow’s rump. “I could cook you up something,” Rainbow suggested as she ducked away from Gilda’s feint. Gilda gave a derisive laugh at that, and the fact that Rainbow went floating up the stairs toward Curry’s room pretty much proved that not even Rainbow had taken her own offer seriously. Once upstairs, Rainbow knocked on Curry’s door. “Is that you, Mom?” the snipe answered the knock in a muffled voice as if her face was buried in either a pillow or her blankets. “Sorry. It’s just me. Fluttershy had to run an errand. She’ll be back in a bit,” Rainbow said, addressing the shut door, and wondering if she should open it or not. There was silence from the other side for a moment, and then the door opened, revealing a rather bedraggled Curry. “I guess I should cook something up for Gilda before she gets cranky,” she said. The snipe looked miserable, which made Rainbow nervous, as she didn’t have a clue as to how to find out what was bothering her, or fix it once she did. “Gilda can wait a while,” Rainbow said while searching for words to make Curry feel better, and coming up with nothing. “No I can’t,” Gilda called up from below, causing Curry’s lip to twitch a bit, easing Rainbow’s nerves slightly. Feeling a bit more certain, Rainbow asked, “You want to talk about it. I’m a good listener.” “No, she isn’t,” Gilda called up. “But I’m a poor crippled, hungry, gryphon who can’t run away. As long as you cook while you’re doing it, I’ll listen to anything you have to say.” “Somepony seems to be feeling better,” Curry said with a weak smile as she started down the stairs. “Don’t worry, Rainbow Dash,” she called over her shoulder. “I’m fine. Honestly. I can wait till mom gets home to talk about it.” *** The sound of hoofsteps thundering up the stairs and her rumbling belly had awakened Goose, who had a brief moment of where-the-heck-am-I before remembering she was tucking into a nice warm cubbyhole under the stairs in Fluttershy’s cottage. She stretched, as much as her cramped quarters allowed, and worked her mouth to eliminate the dryness inside. Her belly rumbled again, reminding herself that she’d skipped supper, except for one single bite of fried fish. The memory of that succulent bit of moist on the inside, crispy on the outside, bite sent her salivary glands into overdrive. She suddenly regretted not being braver and eating the whole serving Curry had given her instead of passing most of it off to Gilda. Maybe with more delicious experience, the swimming sensation in her stomach would go away? As Goose emerged from her bedroom/closet, she saw that Gilda had already made her way to the kitchen table and was hungrily observing Curry’s preliminary food preparations. From that angle it was a bit difficult to tell just what Gilda was salivating over: the fish fillets Curry was rolling in cornmeal or Curry herself. Goose decided, based on past performance, to give Gilda the benefit of the doubt. But, she still hurried over to place herself between the hungry predator and Curry, just in case. “Goose,” Curry said in obvious pleasure at seeing the young nocturne, despite the rather downcast expression she had been wearing as she breaded the fish. “Is there anything the matter, Princess?” Goose asked, giving Curry a close look. Besides the rather out of character attitude, the princess was looking a little singed around the edges. Curry gave her head a quick shake, making her slightly frizzled mane bounce back and forth behind her, “I’m fine. Nothing…” she trailed off, her expression turning sad. “Am I a bossy bully, Goose?” she asked out of the blue. “The sort who has to have her own way, or she takes her ball and goes home?” “Oh, sure she opens up to the scary batpony, but not to the poor wounded Gryphon,” Gilda whispered in a none too quiet voice to Rainbow Dash, who had just taken a seat opposite her at the table. “Shush. I want to hear,” was Rainbow’s reply. Both Gryphon and Pegasus directed perfectly innocent looks over at where Goose was looking back at them with a disapproving expression. Curry appeared to ignore them both, focusing hard on what she was doing as the back of her neck flushed red. “We could go somewhere private, if you wish, Princess. Away from prying ears,” Goose said giving both Gilda and Rainbow pointed looks. “They could prepare their own food.” The last sentence seemed to truly alarm Gilda. Or at least, she pretended it did as she made a big production out of covering her ear tufts with her front claws. Rainbow didn’t even try to pretend to be embarrassed, only rolling her eyes at Goose’s overprotective behavior. Curry looked over her shoulder at the “Gilda, you did something awful to Rainbow Dash, didn’t you? That’s why everyone was so mad at you. But you’ve made up now. How did you do it?” “She didn’t do anything to me---” Rainbow said and was cut off when Gilda reached out and pinched her jaws shut with her claws, leaving Rainbow looking cross-eyed at the two inch long talons pressing down on the middle of her muzzle. “You asked Wings if you were the sort of brat who takes her ball and goes home if she gets mad,” Gilda said to Curry, ignoring Rainbow’s attempts to gently nudge Gilda’s talons away from her nose. “I don’t know anything about you, except you cook tasty fish. But I was that sort of a brat. Sort of. I don’t know, maybe I still am. Only, I didn’t even want to share my ball in the first place. I wanted it all to myself. When some stupid pony tried to play with my ball, I tried to beat the crap out of her.” “Uh, is this about you and Rainbow Dash?” Curry asked. “Because Mom told me a little bit about how upset you were when you came to visit last time and found that Rainbow had other friends. So, you don’t have to keep calling her a ball, you can just use her name.” Both Gilda and Rainbow looked at Curry in befuddlement for a moment, and then both their cheeks reddened. It was an embarrassed Rainbow who said, “What the heck? Gilda’s not talking about me. She’s talking about a real ball. You know, the type you play catch with?” It was Curry’s turn to be embarrassed. “Oh. I thought… Well, never mind.” She looked at Gilda. “But, I don’t understand. You said you didn’t want to share your ball with anypony. But if it was the sort of ball you play catch with, how could you do that without some other pony?” “It’s easy to understand when you know how Gryphons play catch,” Rainbow explained, and then added in a teasing tone, “They live to swoop down on helpless little critters and birds and catch them for snacks.” “I’m a carnivore. Sue me,” Gilda replied to Rainbow’s teasing with a swat from her good wing that the pegasus pony ducked away from. Looking back at Curry, she explained. “Young Gryphons need to learn how to catch food on the fly. What we call catch means carrying a ball up to a thousand feet or so and dropping it. The goal is to catch it again before it hits the ground.” “It can be a lot of fun,” Rainbow broke in. “There are lots of variations. Seeing how long you can let it fall before you start chasing it, and still catch up. Seeing how close you can let it get to the ground before you catch it. Catching it on the first bounce. Before it can bounce a second time. Bouncing it off of annoying—” “Anyway!” Gilda drawled out in a loud tone of voice that drowned out Rainbow’s efforts to continue her explanation. “I’d just gotten my flight feathers a little while before. My father was visiting Cloudsdale for a meeting about the weather patterns for the coming year. I was all on my own so I decided to practice my swooping.” “It was hilarious. Half the time she didn’t know if she was right side up, or upside down,” Rainbow interjected with a laugh. “I just had to offer to lend a hoof.” “I was enjoying myself, when this rude little pony dove in and stole my ball from right in front of me,” Gilda continued, ignoring Rainbow Dash, or seeming to. “She was dirty and scruffy, so of course I thought she was a thief and chased her down.” “She tried to chase me down. I led her all over Cloudsdale and she never got close. I finally left her ball on a cloud and went home for dinner.” “The next day I tried playing with my ball in a different place, but the dirty thief showed up again and stole it again. So the next day I just waited on a cloud for her to fly by and swooped down on her when she did.” “She missed by a mile. In fact, I had to pull her out of the cloud that was under me at the time by her tail.” “I managed to pull out a few of your feathers before you could get clear. That slowed you down enough that I almost caught you.” “Only because I let you, snail,” Rainbow retorted. She looked over at Curry and continued. “A few days later she was chasing me near my house, and my mom asked my ‘friend’ if she’d like to come in for some sandwiches.” “Asked? More like told me.” Gilda gave a shudder. “Rainbow’s mom is one scary lady. After that, we’d take a break each day to have lunch, before I’d start chasing her again. We began to schedule my attacks.” “Gilda’s father complimented her on how much her flying had improved.” “He told me if I kept at it I'd catch and gut that pony in no time,” Gilda replied, snicking her claws in Rainbow’s general direction. “I was hiding on a cloud up above him. He still thinks it was a little sprinkle of rain that dampened his crest. Anyway, I think it was a few days after that we had our first sleepover.” “Wait, hold on,” Curry broke into the conversation. “What has this to do with my question?” “Did you notice what happened to my ball?” Gilda asked. “Huh?” Curry’s eyes went blank for a moment as she considered the question. “I don’t know. You stopped talking about it.” Gilda nodded her head, “Exactly. I found it stuck in the back of one of my old traveling bags a month ago. It was the first time I’d thought about it since the day I started chasing Rainbow with the serious intent of ripping her tail out one strand at a time. I didn’t need the ball to have fun, or to play with my friend. The ball didn’t matter in the end. Rainbow Dash did. I forgot that for a while. I don’t know what sort of fight you had with your friends, but trust me, whatever you were fighting about isn’t nearly as important as your friends are. Don’t take as long as I did to figure that out.” “If they’re still my friends?” Curry said, her expression becoming downcast once again. “You could ask the pony who’s been pacing in the front yard for the last five minutes,” Shadow’s familiar voice said from the doorway. Curry’s startled expression turned to one of surprise at seeing the Nocturne stallion out of his tree, but that was secondary to his words. “Who is it?” “Why don’t you go and see.” “And then come back and cook me dinner,” Gilda called after Curry. *** Curry’s heart was in her throat as she walked past Shadow. Her temper had cooled a great deal during her run from the tree-house to home, and she’d had time to think about her actions. She’d almost been sick as she considered what might have happened if Sweetie Belle had managed to cast the spell at its full power. The entire tree-house and the tree it was in would have gone up in flames, along with everypony in it. It was galling to admit that Di had been totally correct to snatch the book and run off with it. She, on the other hand, had behaved like a butt-head over the whole thing. Curry paused in front of the door, and then closed her eyes and took a deep breath before stepping through it. When she opened her eyes, she saw Diamond Tiara standing in the middle of the yard. Even taking into account how often Curry had seen Di after a heavy workout in the last few weeks, the pony looked a mess. Her mane was filled with straw and twigs while her hooves and lower legs were coated with mud. Her hide, in general, was covered in foamy sweat, indicating she had been recently been engaged in some pretty intense activity. That idea was further backed up by her rather heavy breathing. The expression on Di’s face as she looked up at Curry was a mixture of fear, mule-headed stubbornness, and exhaustion. Hoofsteps behind her made Curry look around, to see that Goose had put on her hat and come out into the sunlit yard to join her. The presence of the nocturne mare gave her the courage to step down into the yard and approach Di, who nearly dancing on her hooves in uncertainty. Knowing it was her responsibility, and hating it, Curry said, “Thank you, Di. I made a big mistake.” For a moment Di looked like she was going to collapse. “It wasn’t fair,” she said after a few moments. “What?” Curry asked, at Di’s unexpected words. “It wasn’t fair! I wasn’t ready for a test like that.” “Test?” Curry glanced over at Goose as if the nocturne might have some idea of what Di was talking about. Goose only shrugged her shoulders. Di gave Curry a look of total exasperation. “Fine. Be that way,” she said in a huff. But, while she looked away from Curry to indicate she had no interest at all in anything the snipe might have to say or do, she didn’t make any move to run off, unlike Curry earlier. “Mom keeps a bucket and scrub brush down by the stream for big critters just in from the woods,” Curry said after a moment, as a sort of peace offering. “And I was about to cook up dinner for Princess Gilda. You want to wash up and join us?” *** “Dang, I never thought you’d do it,” Gilda said to Rainbow Dash as the pegasus pony finished off her second fillet of brook trout. Rainbow dabbed at her mouth with a napkin and tried to look nonchalant, but there was no denying her muzzle had developed a slight greenish tinge. Despite that, she was clearly drinking in Diamond Tiara’s look of undisguised horror. That filly had the remains of some buckwheat pancakes around her muzzle, and a licked clean plate in front of her, showing that despite her expression, her own appetite had not been spoiled by sharing the table with a bunch of fish-eaters. It turned out the only thing Curry could cook reliably was pan-fried fish and charcoal. After she’d burned the first batch of pancakes Fluttershy, who had arrived home to a house filled with smoke, had offered to take over, despite her obvious nausea caused by the nearby frying fish. Goose had stepped in and insisted in a very polite and self-deprecating manner that she would do it. In the end, only Fluttershy and Diamond Tiara enjoyed a totally fish-free meal. Everypony else, including Gilda, ate both fish and pancakes. Shadow had retreated to his tree shortly before Fluttershy arrived, fortified with a tray containing a very small bit of fish and a giant heap of pancakes. “They weren’t too bad,” Rainbow told Gilda. “Got to say, I’m impressed. Great-Uncle Cloudburst once told me not even the biggest Night Guard he ever met could eat more than part of one without throwing up, and you ate two servings.” “What can I say. I’m that awesome,” Rainbow said, buffing her hoof on her chest. The sound of her stomach rumbling punctuated her remark, causing her to shift her hoof from her chest to her mouth. “Oops, sorry. Just a little gas.” Gilda’s expression turned a bit fey, and she continued to laud Rainbow’s accomplishment. “Yep, Great-Uncle said all the diplomatic guards he talked into trying them all looked like the fish were trying to swim back up their throats.” *Urp!* Rainbow belched into her hoof, her complexion looking greener than it had been. “You don’t say,” she said with a brave attempt at appearing uncaring. “That’s what Great-Uncle said. Course, he was an old mountain gryphon. Spent most of his time in the high peaks as a border guard/ranger. Lots of time they didn’t even bother starting a fire. You don’t get fish this big in those mountain streams. So they’d just swallow the little suckers down head-first, scales and guts and all, most time still wiggling. So, maybe they really were trying to swim back up those ponies’ gullets.” “Really?” Rainbow asked in a faint tone of voice. Her stomach let out a much louder rumble and she clamped both hooves over her mouth. For one long moment, Rainbow Dash remained perfectly still, then turned into a rainbow streak that flashed through the open front door. The sound of a stool rocking on the floor drew Curry’s eyes to where Di, had been sitting. The freshly groomed pony was no longer sitting there, but the fading rattle of fast-moving hooves and the sound of the bathroom door slamming was a fairly good indication of the direction she had headed and the intent of her trip. Fluttershy gave the laughing Gilda a stern look. “That wasn’t very nice, Gilda. Curry, please go and see if your little friend is okay.” Curry looked a little squeamish at the order but did not demure. She hurried off, followed by Goose, leaving Fluttershy alone with Gilda. Gilda actually looked a little contrite. “Sorry about the filly,” she mumbled. “She didn’t eat any of the fish, so I didn’t think she’d take it like that.” She looked at Fluttershy in a speculative manner. “It didn’t look like my little story bothered you. Yesterday you couldn’t get out of here quickly enough.” Fluttershy turned a little pale as she was reminded of the day before. “It was because I was thinking of you as a Rainbow’s friend, and not a gryphon, even though I knew better. Many of the critters I care for eat meat. Some, like the cranes, even eat it alive and whole. But when I saw you do it, it was like watching a pony do it.” Fluttershy gave a small shudder. “It was disturbing.” “Does it bother you that Rainbow and Wings ate some? Or your fledgling?” “Curry? She’s an omnivore. You can tell from her teeth. She needs to eat some meat. But I would have rather Rainbow and Goose had not tried any.” Fluttershy gave a very small smile along with a barely stifled giggle. “I don’t think Rainbow will again.” “I thought I was going to throw up my tail!” the wan voice of Rainbow Dash came from the door as she half staggered, half fluttered, through the doorway before collapsing in a heap and shuddering. “So many fins…” the pegasus pony added with a level of theatricality that would have had Rarity rolling her eyes. *** From upstairs, Goose watched as Fluttershy rushed to get Rainbow some water to drink. Behind her, she could hear Curry speaking soothingly to Diamond Tiara as she held the ponies mane behind her head and sponged her face with a cool cloth. Goose focused on her stomach and the meal that resided inside it but detected no swimming sensation. Seeing her big brother taking a serving with no demurral had encouraged Goose to be a bit braver in her culinary choices. It had turned out that once she took a full bite, as opposed to a small nibble, and savored the flavor and texture of her meal, a great deal of her reluctance to dine on fish had vanished. At least on fish prepared by Curry. She wasn’t ever going to dine on the raw variety. The dark-grey pony with the cat-like eyes sucked a small fragment of fish out from between her sharp teeth and chewed on it thoughtfully. The little sliver of flesh had no flavor left, but some texture and Goose actually contemplated asking if Curry would be willing to fry her up another fillet.