Robert landed in a long sweep, trotting to a stop in the barnyard of Sweet Apple Acres. Applejack was waiting on the porch for him. “Mornin'.” she called as he trotted up.

“Morning yourself.” he called.

“Here, a package for you, and something for you to eat.” Applejack passed a thick package of letters, and a package of Apple Brown Betties. He raised an eyebrow at the latter. "We're swimming in 'em since the tryouts.”

“Ah. Well, I'll happily take them off your hooves.” He tossed one up and snapped it out of the air. "Delicious. Applejack, I've gotta ask you a honest question, one that I should have asked before now.”

“Shoot.”

“Do you think we can be friends? I can't ask around Twilight because she's convinced it's possible, but I know that it sometimes just isn't meant to be.” he sat down for a moment. "If there's too much bad blood, I'm okay with that, and we can keep it between us. I'd be willing to try though.”

“Ah think we can, but it's not gonna be easy for me.” Applejack admitted. "It's still hard, after all the time hatin'.”

“I can understand that. I still don't like griffons, even if I might call one my friend.” he nodded. "I'll make the effort if you will.”

“Ah can only try.” she offered her hoof, he shook it.

“Well then, with that out of the way, I must take wing.” he looked around. "Lot of nice napping trees here, aren't there.” he pointed with a paw. A tuft of rainbow tail poked out of the trees. Applejack grinned and winked. He turned, got a running start and flapped his way up into the sky. He tipped a wing, swung around, and dove past the tree. Wind from his passing whipped through the branches, rolling Rainbow Dash out. Into a tub of water Applejack had drug into place. Rainbow spluttered as she landed, and pushed her way up out of the water to the sight of Applejack, rolling on the ground laughing. Robert laughed as he winged south. The morning fog cleared as the sun scraped it away from the land. Froggy Bottom Bog came into view not long into his flight, and as he crossed it, he recalled Fluttershy's warning of a hydra. It was not quite the kind of warning to prepare him for actually seeing it. Head's snapped up out of the swamp, reaching up to snatch at him. Fortunately, he was flying out of reach, something he would have suspected a predator with depth perception would have noticed. Fortunately, it didn't have wings, so he was fine as long as he kept in the air. He beat his way past, keeping altitude, even as it tried to chase him. It stopped at the edge of the swamp, roaring in futile rage at the lost meal.

'Better luck next time. Not that I have any intention of going back through there.' Robert thought. He was going to go around on the way back. No point annoying a predator if it could be avoided. He landed near the train crossing just before it went over Ghastly Gorge. The distance to Appleloosa wasn't nearly as far as to Manehattan, but it had one distinct annoyance that the Manehattan trip lacked. It was a long stretch over open grasslands and then out over sun blasted wastes. Until recently it was a three day trip, first to Dodge Junction, then by overland train to the town, with a night spent on the rolling overland. Now a train ran there, but it still took almost three days. Flying, if you knew how to go, was only a two day trek. But it meant you'd have to find somewhere to stop for the night. A pegasus would have no problem, the wise ones catching a cloud to take with them out into the wastes. The slower ones would probably try and whip up one out of the dry air, and possibly succeed if they were smart enough to rise up into the air where there was more moisture. Robert didn't have that luxury, since he couldn't land on the clouds. What he did have, was a life spent on land similar to this, and thus a knowledge of how to survive there. As the sun began to sink below the horizon, he cut his way through the air to the top of a stone tower. It wasn't anywhere near large enough to be called a mesa, and was little more than a stone piling with a flat piece on top. It was too steep to be climbed by anything that couldn't fly, and too high and windy for most of the flying insects to bother with. It was also already occupied. He hovered in the air, considering whether he should wake or simply dislodge the offending griffon with a burst of air. He couldn't fight a griffon in the air. He wasn't that skilled a flier. However, if he had the ground, he could deal with her trying to attack from above. Height was a natural advantage, but it was not insurmountable if one knew how. His better nature won out after a moment.

“Excuse me, you interested in sharing that for the night?”

“You're not that cute.” the griffon said, waving a talon. "Off with you horsefeathers.”

“Neither a horse, nor leaving am I.” Robert replied, eyeing the sun.

“Yeah, right, I'd know another griffon.” she waved a talon. "Shoo.”

Robert fought back a sigh. He spread his wings, and jerked the air forward. The blast hit just at the base of the spine, where the tail met the hips, causing the griffon to yelp and leap into the air. She whipped around.

“You're a Flying Tiger.” she stated the obvious.

“Yes, I've noticed that. Return to sender for a reward.”

“What?” she asked.

“Never mind. Let's try this again. My name is Robert.” he offered a paw.

“Gilda.” she accepted it with a talon. "In the spirit of flying things that probably shouldn't would you like to share the rock with me?”

“In the spirit of not sharing with a scorpion or snake, yes.” They landed, with just enough room to do so. Wings folded there was more than enough room. "So, flying anywhere interesting?”

“Manehattan to catch a ship home.” she answered, examining a wing.

“Ah, just was there last week. Nice place.”

“Too many ponies for my taste.” she sighed.

“Something wrong with ponies?”

“No. Lame creatures who can't take a joke are always awful, no matter the species.” she replied, and settled down.

“Indeed.” Robert settled down himself. "I must admit, my own taste isn't exactly favorable to griffons.”

“Oh?”

“Bandits killed my uncle. Never mind that it's not representative of griffons, but...”

“Yeah, I get that.” Gilda shrugged. "I didn't do it, and you don't seem too worried about me.”

“I understand you.” Robert replied. "Someone tough enough to tell a stranger to leave without looking. And yet, not bothered by the fact that I shouldn't even be up here.”

“Hey, if the universe didn't want you up here, you'd be a greasy stain on the ground. Gravity has a way of putting it's foot down.” Gilda chuckled. "Besides, I'd rather not have anything else on my conscience.”

“Oh?” he asked.

“I'd' rather not think on it.” she replied.

“Fair enough. I don't suppose you've got anything edible up here? I think I've had enough herbivore cuisine to last me a life time.” Robert chuckled.

“Yeah, Ponies are a bit strange. You're in luck though. I stopped for a snack and couldn't finish it.” she dug a claw into her bag and dropped half a raw rabbit on the ground. "Eat your fill, I'll grab something in the morning.”

“Thanks.” he took a bite. "Oh, I've MISSED that.” he took another bite. "Not that the ponies get it.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. Worst part, is they assume everything's been exposed to the magical leakage, and is some brilliant genius”. Gilda sighed. “And they get all uppity when you follow your nature, but the little buggers get praised to no end.”

“Yeah. Some of them are alright though.: Robert admitted.

“I guess. A few of them change so you almost don't know them.” she grunted.

“Sadly, that's not limited to Ponies.” Robert said, looking off into the distance.

“No, I guess it's not. Sun's going down. I'm not interested in anything more than warmth tonight.” she stated outright.

“My fiance would kill me.” 'if I didn't invite her.' Robert left the last bit off. "I'm willing to risk it not to freeze to death.”

“Yeah, my thoughts exactly.” Gilda slid into the middle. Robert slid in close. Feathers rustled for a moment. "Not working.” she stood up, and turned around. "Wing up.” he stretched out his wing, and she stretched hers. After a moment, they were both on the ground, wings wrapping over one another. "There. Comfortable?”

“Surprisingly, yes.” Robert answered. "Night.”

“Night.”

---

“Gilda?”

“Mmmm?”

“Do me a favor, and stop chewing on my tail. I need that.”

Gilda spit the appendage in question out. “Agh.”

“I don't taste that bad.” Robert objected.

“I disagree.” Gilda said, scrubbing her tongue with a talon. "You taste like old socks.”

“Well thanks. You're rather rose scented yourself.” he retorted. Also, your wing is tangled in mine.” she glared at him, then pulled her wing free. "Thank you.”

“You're welcome. And thank you.” she said after a long moment.

“You're welcome. What are you thanking me for?” he asked.

“Keeping me warm. I don't like to admit it and if you tell anyone, I'll peel your hide, but I don't like being cold. Never have. Gotta keep up appearances though, and everyone expects a griffon to love the cold.” she shook her head. "So thanks for keeping me warm.”

“You're welcome. You said you're headed home? Where's home?” Robert asked. He was eager to be on his way, and yet...

“The Aerie. The grand ol' rock.” she smiled. Every griffon did when they talked about it. It was a mountain even taller than Canterhorn, covered in thousands of griffon caves. Two or three room interiors dotting the outsides of the mountain. The highest of them were the most prestigious, but anyone who lived on the mountain was something special. The caves tended to be sparsely furnished, since they were often fought over by the various occupants. Those who wanted to rise in society and those who wanted to keep others down. They'd battle back and forth for days or weeks, and eventually one or the other would come out on top.

“Ah. Can you pass a message for me?” Robert asked.

“Depends on who it's too. And what it is.” Gilda asked cautiously. Not every griffon was welcome everywhere. Family and Clan was important to them, and some places had centuries old feuds going on.

“Ambassador Gris.” Robert answered, and she relaxed completely. No one was refused an audience if he was in the Aerie. No one dared fight him for his place on the mountain. "Tell him that Robert says hello, and that fair winds still follow him.”

“That's all?” she asked.

“It is. I know it's a simple message among griffons, but it has special meaning between us.” Robert smiled. "If you want to ask him, you're welcome to. It's his decision to tell you. If he asks, I have no objection to it.”

“Alright, I'll deliver your message.” she looked at the rising sun. "I guess I should be on my way.”

“Hang on. Would you like breakfast first?” he offered, looking over the side of the rock.

“What's on the menu?” she asked.

“Surprise.” he said, and leaped over the side. He returned several minutes later, wings beating hard as he hefted the carcass of a warthog over the side. "Warthog surprise. And boy was he.” Gilda laughed. "Ladies first.” He waved with a paw. She didn't hesitate and attacked the corpse with gusto, shearing off one of the back legs.

In short order, there was not much left, and what was, they pushed off the side of the rock. “I haven't had Warthog in years. I'd forgotten how good it was.” she clacked her beak together to dislodge a few left over bits of meat.

“Indeed. Nothing quite like it.” Robert said, picking his teeth with a tusk. "Now we can leave.”

“Yeah. Hey, can you pass on a message for me?” Gilda asked.

“Sure.” Robert answered.

“If you ever run into a pony named Rainbow Dash, tell her I'm sorry about the stuff I said, and most of what I did. She'll know what I mean.” Gilda sighed.

“I'll keep an eye out, and pass it on.” Robert agreed. He offered his paw. She shook it with a talon. "Fair winds.”

“Fair winds.” Gilda leaped from the side of the spire, and winged north. Robert leaped off the south side, and cut a path southwards. The cold air was easier on him, density providing lift. As the sun rose, and warmed the air, it began to thin out, and made remaining high a more challenging proposition. Instead though, he traded altitude for speed, swooping down and then racing level to bleed off speed. He made it to Appleloosa just before noon. Flaring his wings to land, he found himself the object of attention from most of the town. He'd expected that. It wasn't exactly a huge town, even after considerable work had been done following Applejack's visit, but also because he was a tiger and one with wings.

“Hello partner. What can we do ya fer?” asked one of the ponies.

“My name is Robert. I'm here to deliver some mail to a pony by the name of Braeburn. Got any idea where I can find him?” This was met with laughter from the assembled ponies. And Pinkie, who had no reason to be there, and even less to be anywhere else. Robert very studiously ignored her.

“That'd be me. Who'd be sending a me a whole tiger in the mail though?” he asked. More laughter.

“Your cousin Applejack. She said you were lonely on these cold, Appleloosan nights.” Robert waggled his eyebrows, getting both even more impressive laughter from the crowd, and a bright red flush on Braeburn's face.

“I don't get gotten often, but I sure can't think of an answer ta that one.” Braeburn admitted. "So's that the only reason for you being here?”

“I was looking for the Buffalo.” Robert announced. Braeburn stated. "Their shaman in particular.”

“Well, that's gonna be a mite more tricky.” Robert's gaze went flat. "See, they've done gone and had their yearly stampede, and we don't really know where they get to while they're gone.”

“Do any of you happen to speak tiger?” Robert asked. Collectively, every single head shook. "Fantastic.” He then unleashed a stream of words in Tiger that caused a water trough nearby to burst into flames.

“Everything okay?” Braeburn asked.

“No.” Robert replied, and took a deep breath. "Do you know which way they went?”

“Off to the south, about two days ago.” Braeburn said. "But you'll never catch them.”

“Yeah, right. Here's your letters. Robert tugged the package out of his bag. Braeburn caught it and before he could say anything, Robert was already at a dead run, wings spreading and carrying him into the air. Someone managed to put the trough out as he chopped through the air southwards.

The stampeding grounds weren't hard to find, and he followed the trail. It wasn't easy, that much was true. But things that were impossible to follow on the ground, could sometimes be seen from the air. What might escape notice on the ground where you could see only one at a time, was far more clear from the air, where you could see a half dozen or more. Robert flew through the air, catching sight of trampled bushes, and broken brush, and disturbed rocks. The remains of a camp site a days run showed him he was on the right trail. He dropped to the ground and investigated. There weren't very many hoof prints, even big buffalo didn't leave many on such sun-baked ground. Tufts of hair on the trampled brambles told him it was a buffalo camp, and he spread his wings to take flight again. The trail lead south towards the hills at the southern edge of the sun blasted wastes. Then into them. As he followed the trail, he saw another camp, this one abandoned just the night before, and he landed again, to ensure he was on the right trail. More hair on more bushes. It was getting late though, and he tucked in to a ledge high on one of the hills to either side of the encampment for the night, after hunting down a rabbit for dinner.

The next morning, he followed the trail again as it curved eastward. It broke into a grassland, obscuring the trail somewhat, but at the same time, making it easier to see the trampled grass of the path, and the spots where they'd halted to graze and rest. Just past noon he passed the camp they'd made the night before, and he beat on, wings pulling great bursts of air, as he sped after them. A nagging little voice pointed out that Rainbow would have caught them already. A second little voice pointed out that she'd have had to search for the herd by scouring the terrain, and wouldn't be on the trail. The first voice pointed out that it didn't matter because she could cover all that terrain in less time than he'd followed.

As sun down approached, he caught sight of a fire being lit. Several buffaloes caught sight of him as he approached, circled once and landed some distance away. He could go straight into the air if he had to, but he preferred to have time to get into the air if they decided he was a threat. “Hail to the herd!” he called as he touched down.

“Hail to the visitor, be friend or foe?” The buffalo that approached was fairly large for a buffalo, but no where so large as the biggest.

“Friend. Friend of a friend of the Shaman of the herd.” Robert responded. Silence reigned for a moment, then the buffalo turned and thundered back to the herd. A moment late he returned with another in tow. Robert bowed, wings half spread.

“You say you are friend of friend to Shaman. Speak the name of the friend.” the newcomer said.

“Zecora is friend to the Shaman.” Robert answered. Silence for a moment.

“I know Zecora. Do I know you?” he asked.

“I am Robert, student of Zecora, and her friend.” Robert replied carefully.

“So you are he who is spoken of in her letters. Greetings friend of the herd.” The shaman smiled. “Come, meet the chief and we shall talk of why you are here.” Robert followed the big buffalo in, and sat near him. “Chief Thunderhooves, this is Robert, student and friend of Zecora.”

“Hail Robert, student and friend of Zecora.”

“Hail Chief Thunderhooves.” Silence reigned for a long moment.

“Can we dispense with the formalities now?” Thunderhooves asked his shaman, who nodded. "Excellent. Robert, I am rather surprised to see a tiger here, much less one who flies the skies.”

“No more surprised to be than I am to be seen here. I came because my teacher said your shaman had a flower that could well..” he raised his wings. "I've been stuck with these for almost a month, following a potion accident. While flying around is pretty fun, I'd like my magic back.”

“Ah, I see. I've never flown, so I don't know how you feel, but I imagine anything can become boring after a while.” Thunderhooves said. "Tell me Long Brew, do you have the flower he requires?”

“I do my chief.” the shaman answered.

“And what will you exchange for this flower?” Thunderhooves asked.

“I do not know it's worth to any but myself. I was unaware of what I should bring to trade.” Robert answered simply.

“The flower is not rare.” Long Brew answered. "The cost is only in the retrieval. Those who enter the Bogg do not always return.”

“A conundrum.” Thunderhooves admitted.

“Perhaps a solution honored chief.” a young buffalo spoke up.

“You have had good luck in the past Strongheart, try your hoof at this.” he waved.

“This simple flower will restore your lost magics?” she asked.

“Not alone, but with Zecora's store of knowledge, it will combine with other things to craft a potion to restore my powers.” Robert nodded.

“I see. What could be of equal value to us?” she wondered aloud. "We have no lost magics to recover.”

“I would offer you goods which I came with, and yet I doubt you have any use for them.” Robert sighed. "I wish I knew more about your people that I could have brought things you would have need of.”

“Then perhaps knowledge. she suggested. "You will be restored the use of your magic and the ability to gain knowledge in it's use, perhaps knowledge is a reasonable trade.”

“I have much knowledge, even on subjects not magic. On what would you like to know?” Robert asked.

“What do you know of buffalo?” Thunderhooves asked.

“Sadly very little. Robert admitted. "I did hear a story once, said to be handed down amongst the buffalo. I know not if it is one you still have.”

“We know many stories, yet some have been lost. By what name do you know this tale?”

“The Great Bison and his Thundering herd.”

“A tale we have heard of, but never heard in it's fullness.” Thunderhooves said.

“Would you accept such a thing in trade for the flower?” Robert asked.

“Lost knowledge for lost power, this I judge a fair trade.” Thunderhooves said. "Let us prepare a meal, and while this is done, you may prepare for the telling of your tale.”

“I shall be ready in due time then.” Robert bowed again.