As soon as she was set free from the register, Pinkie rushed over to the palace library. Even with the important guests and the increased guard presence, Pinkie was able to use her rights as an Element Bearer to gain access to the castle, especially when most others weren’t. That meant there was nopony there to ask her what she was looking for. Nopony to see the panic in her eyes. Nopony to hear the worry in her voice.

Pinkie hunted in the relocated Ponyville Library for a book on cooking meat. If she were to bring this up with Twilight, it could ruin everything she had worked for. She would question her. Pinkie would crack. She knew she would. How would Twilight react to the news? How would this affect the political meeting with the Gryphon King she had spent months preparing? Besides, it was just one pie. She’d give the Prince what he wanted and everything would be hunkey-dorey.

Pinkie couldn’t stand still as she read each title aloud as she looked.

“The Gryphon of Mount Crystal. No. Think Gryphon, Grow Rich. Nuh-uh. The Mare and the Gryphon. Not even close!”

“What is this that I spy? Could it be Pinkie Pie?”

Pinkie shrieked and jumped from the ladder. Her fluffy mane cushioned her head from the fall. On shaky legs, Pinkie pushed herself up from the hard crystal floor. Near the doorway was somepony looking at her. “Oh-wha? Zecora!? I- I’m looking for a book.”

“Well then, you have come to the right place. But why the worried look on your face?”

Oh, crabapples.

Pinkie chewed on her lip and rubbed her back fetlocks together. “I-- um-- well-- I’m looking for a book!”

When Pinkie failed to continue her answer, Zecora calmly continued to question her. “You have made that point clear, my dear, but why do you show fear, not cheer?”

“Well, um-- I met the prince!” Pinkie shoved a hoof in her mouth.

Zecora’s eyes widened. “Now I understand why you frown; it is hard to be near that clown. How did he twist your pink tail, to the point that makes you ail?”

Oh no. Keep your mouth shut, Pinkie!

“He didn’t like my cooking!”

Me and my big pie-hole.

Zecora closed her eyes and let out a slow breath as a serene smile. “I assure you, his opinion doesn’t matter. His tongue can’t tell the difference of dung from batter. You should ignore such a critic. His kind is most parasitic.”

Zecora’s wisdom washed over her mind and cleared the fog in Pinkie’s mind. Her anxiety melted away, but only for a moment.. Once again, Pinkie was grinding her teeth together and taking shallow, quickened breaths. That wasn’t the reason she was in such a fret. Prince Glut had threatened to do harm to Pinkie and the Cakes. If Pinkie wasn’t able to make a meat pie correctly, they would lose Sugarcube Corner! And not only that but-- but--

Hey…

Pinkie took a long, deep breath and slowly let it out, then prepared herself for what she was about to do. “You know what? You’re absolutely right, Zecora. I shouldn’t let such a hosh-posh, snooty-patooty prince tell me how to feel. I believe in my cooking skills, and I know that others love my food. There may be the few who don’t like it, but you know what we bakers say: ‘Every donut comes with a hole.’”

Zecora scratched her chin for a moment, then chuckled. “That is one I’ve never heard; there is great wisdom in those words.”

It’s working!

“Eeyup. Well, he did get me thinking, and I wanted to learn more about what gryphons eat. So I came here looking for something to read about gryphon food. And so I thought, ‘Hey, maybe I can learn something new about cooking.’ So I’m looking for a book on how gryphons make their food.”

Zecora nodded. “While your reason may have been ill-conceived, your strive for improvement has me relieved. I will help you find the book. Now where shall we look?”

---

While the two of them browsed books on gryphon cuisine, Pinkie also learned a lot from Zecora. Twilight had chosen her to be her advisor. With her worldly experience and knowledge, she was the zebra for the job. Twilight had even given her her own room so Zecora wouldn’t have to walk to and from her hut everyday.

Hey, Twilight had to do something with all these rooms.

Zecora told Pinkie about what was happening in Gryphonstone. The country was heading towards reclaiming its former glory. It was long and complicated, but it meant that the gryphons were now looking to open up for trade and improve their economy. Pinkie was extraordinarily happy that her visit with Gilda possibly had made such a big impact for so many. She even almost forgot why she had come looking for books.

Once Pinkie found a book with the information she was looking for, she took it and several others (to hide any suspiciousness), thanked Zecora, and rushed home to quickly read up on what she needed to do and form a plan.

---

As much as she knew she was doing this for the right cause, she couldn’t help but feel guilty. Ponyville would shun her, disown her, be unhappy with her. It tore at her gut.

After the moon rose and basked Ponyville in its quiet glow, Pinkie pulled a little wagon with her to the Everfree Forest. Everything she thought she needed for her late-night hunt was in her little wagon: a book filled with diagrams on how gryphons butchered meat, a cooler full of ice to keep the meat fresh, a sharp knife, a towel, and a butterfly net.

There was so much to preparing meat that Pinkie didn’t know about, nor even wanted to know about. The name of the act alone--butchering--sent prickles down her spine. Never before had she heard such an unpleasant and violent-sounding word. The details that the book went into made her sick, and at one point, she even had to close the book and take a walk around town before she could continue. The pictures didn’t help. It eventually became too much for her, and she felt she had read enough and skipped straight to the cooking.

The cooking part wasn’t so bad. Only by comparison. She found plenty of meat-pie recipes, and they didn’t look too difficult. The only tough part was getting a main ingredient. She didn’t know what kind of meat she would use; but she would take full advantage of whatever first came her way.

As she walked down the path to the forest, the trees reached for the heavens and blotted out the stars. Shadows enveloped the path in front of her. The sparse beams of light that penetrated the thick canopy showed her the way deeper into the darkness. Little bits of light reflected off of what may have been collected moisture on the leaves and bushes, or the eyes of monsters.

Far in the distance echoed the ululations and howling of beasts. She hoped she wouldn’t run into them. If she didn’t go too deep into the wood, she wouldn’t run into those things, right? She ignored the voices in her head screaming at her to run away. This was only a one-time thing, though! She would be in, out, give the prince his meat pie, and the whole ordeal would be over. The Cakes wouldn’t lose their livelihood and their homes; and Pinkie got to stay in Ponyville.

With shaking knees, Pinkie Pie plodded into the yawning mouth of the Everfree Forest.

---

As much as she tried to sneak and stalk, it was for naught. She chased squirrels up trees, only to run into the trunk. She pounced at rabbits, only to get a mouthful of dirt. And with each strike, she’d instinctively tensed up to not hurt the creature; and it gave whatever little critter Pinkie had her eye on enough time to escape.

With each attempt, she grew more tired. With each failure, she grew more frustrated. With each passing moment, she grew more desperate.

The chattering of startled animals awoke all of the other potential prey, warning them of Pinkie’s presence. The element of surprise was no longer available to Pinkie.

Tears welled up in her eyes. Already she had been at this for hours. Thorns scratched her legs, bugs bit her tush, and sharp rocks jabbed the frogs of her hooves. She plopped down on her rump and wiped her cheeks dry. Was this it? She couldn’t even catch a single critter to save the Cakes.

She was a failure, and now the Cakes were going to be miserable because of her.

She snorted up the snot that leaked from her nose. Her limp mane hid the forest from her, but not her from the forest. She could still hear the critters chatter at her.

She didn’t care anymore. She picked herself up and plodded back towards her wagon. She was going home. To enjoy it for the last time. As she pushed through the overgrowth, the forest wildlife smelled her defeat and fell silent. The calm left Pinkie alone with her thoughts. She didn’t want to hear them. She wished for distraction. Anything!

And then she heard running water. A stream was nearby. Thinking of water made her realize just how thirsty she was. With what energy she had left, she pushed through the foliage until she came upon the small stream. She laid on her belly and stuck her snout in the water. She didn’t care if her mane got wet. Large gulps of water soothed her and drowned the poisonous thoughts in her mind, if only for a moment. She pulled her head back and gasped for air.

Oh, I needed that.

As she leaned forward once again, she saw fish. Lots of them.

Fish are a kind of meat! Yeah! It’s not over. I still have a chance.

She grabbed her butterfly net and studied the water carefully. Hope reinvigorated her muscles. She stood poised on the bank. She was ready to strike.

She appraised each fish as they passed her gaze. They weren’t that big, and it might take a few to fill up a pie. But Pinkie didn’t care as long as she got them.

One of the closer fish turned its back to her. She struck the water with the net. As soon as the net touched the water, all of the fish darted away in every direction. She’d forgotten about the water resistance. It slowed her net down as she struck and left her empty-hooved. But she wouldn’t let that discourage her! She scanned the water until she found another target. This time she tried to use a slower approach: ease the net into the water, then pull it with all her might towards the fish. She managed to pin the fish between the rim of the net and a rock. In her excitement, she pulled the net back and it got away. She was getting closer. It was only a matter of time now!

Then she hit the jackpot. In a narrow crook next to her was a fish. A large fish. A fish large enough to fill up a pie. It was blocked on three sides by rocks and had no way out. It had cornered itself. This was too good for Pinkie to pass up. Capture this fish, and her troubles were as good as over.

She lowered the net into the water and inched it toward the fish. As soon as the fish sensed danger, it flailed about and swam about in its little nook until it charged right into the net. Before it could get out, she pushed the top of the net against a rock. The fish was trapped.

I did it. I DID IT!

With a quick mental slap, she restrained herself from celebrating. The fish was still in the water. She pulled up on handle, making sure that she pulled it at the right angle so the fish couldn’t slip out. And boy, was it a heavy one.

It squirmed and wiggled in the net, but it couldn’t jump out. The handle bent underneath the weight of the fish and flexed under the fish’s struggles. Pinkie pulled the fish closer to her, but then there was a snap.

Never meant as a tool for catching fish, the butterfly net wasn’t strong enough to hold a several pound fish and broke in half. The fish fell right on the bank of the stream.

“No!” Pinkie lunged at the fish and grabbed it in her front hooves. It slipped through her grasp and splashed back into the water.

“No…” whispered Pinkie. Tears ran down her cheeks. She pounded the ground with a hoof. “No, no, no, no, no-ho-ho-hooooo.”

She fell onto her side and cried. Her tears streamed down her cheeks and onto the damp soil beneath her.

---

Defeated, Pinkie pulled her wagon out of the forest. It was still dark, but not for long. She wanted to get home before the Cakes woke up, which was early since they had to have goods ready for the ponies who came to Sugarcube Corner for breakfast.

With all the hunting and stalking she had done, she came out from an entirely different part of the forest than she had entered. She just had to find a familiar landmark, and she’d be able to make her way home. And she found one in front of her--Fluttershy’s home.

Too tired to take a roundabout route, she walked through Fluttershy’s yard toward Ponyville. She had only enough energy to lift her head to see a few feet in front of her. Pinkie sighed as she took a few steps to the left to walk around the chicken coop.

What was she going to tell the prince when he came for his pie? She couldn’t catch a single animal. No squirrel, no rabbit, no fish, no bird, no chicken.

No chicken?

Pinkie turned and looked at the chicken coop. Many chickens slept inside. They had no way out except for the tiny door. They were trapped. And even if they got out, there was still the fence around the coop that prevented them from running too far.

This would be easy. Too easy. They were just waiting to be plucked.

Pinkie couldn’t take her eyes off the coop. What she needed was inside. All she had to do was reach out and take it. If she didn’t, all the stress, pain, and heartache she had suffered would have been for nothing. She felt her chest tighten and her heart race.

Then her stomach dropped like a slab of concrete. What about Fluttershy?

How would Fluttershy feel if one of her chickens had gone missing? She would be devastated. She treated and loved every animal as if they were her children. Pinkie couldn’t do this to her. They were friends. Friends didn’t steal from each other.

But she has so many, Pinkie thought. Would it really make a difference if just ONE chicken went missing? It wouldn’t be the first time. She built the fence to keep out foxes, but… fences aren’t perfect. There’s always a way around them.

Pinkie shook her head. “No, I can’t do that.”

Fluttershy understands that animals eat other animals to survive. She’s used to this by now. And she has more chickens every year. Chickens lay eggs. The eggs hatch into more chickens. Fluttershy can easily replace the chicken. She already has more than enough.

“But she’ll be… she’ll…”

You’re trying to keep the Cakes from becoming homeless, right? All you need is to take a chicken. Fluttershy is your friend, and she’d understand. You’re putting the lives of FOUR PONIES in jeopardy just for a SINGLE CHICKEN?

“It’s not like that…”

You only need one. Take the chicken.

“But I--”

Take the chicken.

Pinkie breathed through her mouth. Her chest heaved. Her hooves shook as she unhitched her wagon and grabbed the towel. In a dream-like haze, Pinkie watched as the gate opened in front of her, and the hen house came closer.

Once in front of the hen house, she looked inside. She could see the chickens in the dark, each one on a little nest, including one right next to the door.

Pinkie took a deep breath and readied her towel. She imagined what she would do in her head.

The pounce.

The snatch.

The retreat.

Before any more thoughts could cloud her mind, she sprang. She threw the towel over the chicken, grabbed the edges and pulled them together into a makeshift sack, and ran out of the pen. By the time she hitched herself to the wagon, the hen house was abuzz with the screeching of startled chickens. Pinkie ran as fast as she could with the struggling chicken-filled towel dangling from her mouth. She didn’t stop until she was back in the Everfree Forest and all she could hear was the clucking chicken in her grasp and the squeaking of her wagon wheels.

---

With her hoof pinning down the corners of the towel, Pinkie watched the ensnared bird struggle. The chicken squawked and clucked while flapping about and pushing against the towel. She had completely forgotten this was a step she needed to take.

She had to kill.

How could she have been so stupid? This was something she had to do, but why had it escaped her until now? She hadn’t planned for this. Could it be that she had unconsciously pushed it out of her mind? The moment had come, and she wasn’t prepared.

But she had to do it. For the Cakes. For the future of gryphon-equine relations. For Twilight.

For her.

With her left hoof, she gently felt about the towel. The chicken froze. She could see the chicken breathing under the towel. She ran her hoof around the sides of the chicken until she found its head. She placed the hard part of her hoof on it and applied pressure to keep it from moving.

“I’m so sorry.”

She pushed with all her might until she heard a sickening crack. Blood soaked into the white towel as the chicken spasmed underneath. As the seconds dragged on, the kicks and jerks became weaker and less frequent. A full two minutes later, the chicken laid still.

She wanted to cry, but she couldn’t.