Griffonstone's weather team often graced her citizens with a near constant and predictable weather. Hot as all heck unless they had planned for rain. In such a scenario, the weather became hot and wet. The other alternative was during winter or when they slacked off. Griffonstonians could then expect wet and cold. It usually happened when the ponies pulled out of their flanks they needed some rain.

Griffons preferred neither and all left them in a bad mood anyways.

Not that Gilda had the privilege of being bothered by the weather. She had no choice to begin with because the scones wouldn’t sell themselves.

She had a nice little raw wood stand in the square with the hospital, some state-owned buildings and King Grover’s statue. Polished, but not varnished, yet she made sure the nails became nice details, polished and shiny. The square seemed like a good place to sell her scones, since a lot of griffons worked there. Not only because of griffons, but ponies too, as many worked at the hospital and sweets had a tendency of selling rather well wherever ponies went.

She competed over the plaza with other stands and some stores by the streets surrounding the plaza. Thankfully, most buildings within ranged housed different trades. Such as the hospital itself, a blacksmith, the woodworker that had built Gilda’s stand.

Regardless of what other griffons said, her business was serious too. She had trouble remembering sometimes, though. She liked baking the damn things, not spending the whole feathering day sitting her ass in the heat. Staring at the asshole in the statue and trying to get griffons to buy her scones.

One Bit for one, three Bits for five. Not bad a deal. Surely, they tasted fine because they did sell. At least enough to sustain her, but not much more. During those annoying times of chancellors being removed and kings being crowned. It seemed like an eternity since the last drama which took over griffon society and she was too young to remember.

The heat made for a slow day, but she managed to sell several scones. Mostly to ponies and griffons who worked at the hospital and the mayor’s office. Even to some soldiers standing guard by the Chancellor’s Palace, which held a collection of offices rather. More like a big state building out of Manehattan than a palace like the one in Canterlot.

She hatted sitting there. She could be doing something fun, or productive like more scones to sell, but if she left the stand alone, griffons would steal her product. She didn’t live in Ponyville, where one could go somewhere else, and costumers would pay for what they took.

“Hiya, Gilda!” Suddenly, a friendly face and a greeting.

“Hey, Greta. What’s up?” She waved back with a smile.

“Oh, nothing much!” The green-faced griffon hen sat next to her and sniffed at the small pile of scones. “One of our suppliers simply stopped talking to us. My boss asked me to see what was going on and I just came back from Longbeach. Turns out the guy left his mate and cubs and just went North. Can you believe?”

“Wow. What a dick." Gilda frowned. "I mean, I’m not one for marriage and stuff, but it seems like a real dick move to up and leave out of the blue.”

“Tell me about it!” Greta left a pair of Bits on the stand and scooped up two of the sweets. What a relief Greta always paid full and didn’t ask for a discount or something. Gilda didn’t think she’d be able to say no, and she couldn’t afford it. Besides, Greta looked like she had a comfortable life.

“We lost a lot of costumers because of that.” Gilda’s friend went on after a bite at a scone. “We just couldn’t meet the demand! Not to mention that prices are soaring, and nobody really needs perfume.”

Gilda listened while she picked up the Bits and threw them inside the small leather pouch across her chest.

“Yeah, I feel you guys. It seems I can buy less and less with the profit from the scones every week. Everything is too expensive right now.” Gilda shook her head.

Greta nodded emphatically while she bit at the scone again. “How are you holding up though? I mean… I know you don’t really make a lot from the scones.”

“Well, it’s not great.” Gilda shrugged. Good thing it was Greta and not Rainbow Dash. She would never have managed to admit struggling. “I can survive, but it’s not fun anymore since they docked my income.”

“This is awful! I hear that griffon representatives in Canterlot are wasting a lot of time debating The Lion all the while griffon holds are splitting to one side or the other and major cities are going nuts. And the Chancellor does things like ending basic income. They even say there’s going to be a war! I wish Princess Celestia would get this sorted already.”

“Yeah… Not only they took my money, but I can’t sell past nighttime because the damn curfew. These things sold better at night when griffons and ponies from the hospital came and bought them by the boxes for the night shift.”

“Hum… I would offer you a place at my job…” Greta said softlly, touching her fingers together, and staring at the cobblestone. “But, you remember, right?”

“Yeah…” Gilda’s paw brushed the crest of feathers on her head. “It wasn’t your fault. Your boss and my personality didn’t work out.”

“Will you be okay, though?” Greta looked back at Gilda. “I can help, you know.”

“Geez, Greta!” Gilda winced. “It’s not like I’m going broke or something. I can live by myself!”

“Okay, alright.” Her friend waved her paws. “I just want you to know that if you need, I’m here for you. Alright?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Gilda did her best not to show, but she had the impression that Greta saw right through her tough exterior. Thank goodness it wasn’t Rainbow Dash.

She waved and turned for a second to see her friend off. On the following one she turned back to her stand and some skinny dipshit eating two of her scones at once. Piss-yellow fur and brown feathers on his white head, he looked like a bratty kid with his smug smirk at getting caught.

“That’s two Bits, dude.” She clicked her talon at the table.

“Ech…” He put out his tongue. “They aren’t worth half of that!”

“You just ate two of them, jackass!” She snarled and leaned on her stand. “Two Bits or the next thing you’ll eat is your beak!”

“No!” He stared. “I’ll pay one if you add another. These things are disgusting.”

In her defense she didn’t say the things she thought of saying to the griffon. She did punch his face though. With a satisfying yelp and crunchy sound. He reeled and held his face, which brought her some measure of satisfaction until she saw the blood. Then she realized actually making griffons swallow their beaks was not a good idea.

“Crap.” She grimaced and tried to touch him, but he pulled back and cried some more. “That! That was your fault!”

Then someone approached her. “Ma’am, did you just punch him?”

A black and white griffon wearing the Griffonstone Local Militia leather barding, complete with a wheellock pistol and a magical stun baton. Next to him, a tan and white female of the same institution. Fortunately, Gilda restrained her first impulse of swearing. “He… He didn’t want to pay! He’s stealing from me!”

“That is for the judge to decide, ma’am. You have to come with me.” Said the female while the other went to calm and examine the ‘victim’.

“But the stand! I can’t leave it alone!” Gilda cried and waved at it. “The! The scones!”

“Not my problem, ma’am." The female officer still showed no sympathy. "My partner is gonna take him to the hospital and write down his testimony. You come with me and don’t make this any harder than it has to be. You may be restituted for your losses, but again, that is with the judge.”

Arguing seemed a bad idea likely to put her into more trouble, so she relented and walked with the griffoness. At least the officer didn’t tie her wings or something. All that racket, with so many eyes on them. Her business would be suffering from it in the coming days.

Gilda hated the idea of spending the rest of the day in prison, to say the least, but silently thanked the guards when they put her in a separated cell. The very tough Gilda wouldn’t like, at all, to spend the night with the individuals she saw in the other cells.

They took ages asking her stuff like her age and other more private questions, then another female militiagriffon shoved her into a cell. It had cots on the wall with pillows and blankets and a couple of adult hens for company.

“Behave.” The griffon growled while she closed the bars with a loud clank.

Gilda sat and looked at the others. One was about her age with purple plumage on her face and the other had more years and with yellow feathers. Both tan-colored, though and the first laid on her back on her cot, looking bored while the other sat on the floor, looking back at Gilda.

“Uh…” She started uncertain, bulging eyes and fidgeting.

“Shut your beak, new blood.” Purple said curtly. “Nobody cares.”

The other giggled and signaled for Gilda to come closer. “Don’t mind her. She’s just angry she didn’t get to keep the stuff she stole.”

“So, uh… Come here often?” Gilda mumbled coming closer with an awkward grin. What was wrong with her? What a dumbass thing to say! Fortunately, the other just giggled again.

“First time in the slammer?” She asked with a smug grin.

“Yeah… Uh… I’m Gilda.” She grinned.

“I’m Gertrude.” The other grinned warmly with a paw on her chest. “Moody one over there is Grizelda.”

“Hi.” Gilda didn’t know what to do with her paws, so they kept shuffling one over the other while she sat, and her eyes shifted from one to the other as though they might jump at her any second.

Gertrude waved a paw at Gilda as though she could read her mind. “Don’t worry. They’ll keep you here while they prepare a folder with your case and sent it to the judge. If you were really in trouble, you’d be with the others.”

“So…” Gilda said slowly, trying to pick up her thoughts.

“I know dearie.” Gertrude grinned again. “You wanna ask the question everyone sees in the books and theaters and that no one asks in real life. Go right ahead. Get that out of your system.”

Way to get her feeling like a damn child. Gilda chuckled and asked anyway. “What are you in for?”

Gertrude giggled like she Gilda had five years. “We’re prostitutes, honey. Well, she’s in for stealing… I’m here just because the Chancellor decided that prostitution was a ‘moral crime’. Whatever that means.”

“That is not a crime, though… As far as I know.” Gilda’s eyebrow rose.

“It’s not.” Gertrude shrugged. “But my politically savvy friends tell me the Chancellor is trying to pretend he has some moral high-ground with all the support he lost.”

“Yeah…” Grizelda chuckled from her cot. “Let me steal from the people and then pretend I’m the good guy by putting them in the jail. Fucking dumbass. The only reason I’m doing this is because he shoved my pay under his tail.”

Before Gilda could ask, Gertrude explained with little gestures. “We’re actresses… But uh… It’s been hard finding a job since we had a small troupe… Nothing like the big theaters in Manehattan or Canterlot. We dissolved because no one was going to our show, bills started pilling up and we were kinda left without an option when they shot down the basic income... A friend of mine introduced me to the… Uh… Community.”

Gilda took too long to notice her beak hanged from her mouth. Gertrude seemed nice, but Gilda soon realized the same could happen to her. It horrified the feathers out of her. Just the notion of some random guy like the asshole in the square, touching her and pretending she liked almost made her lunch spill lunch.

Fortunately, Grizelda didn’t pay attention and Gertrude didn’t take any offense. It made it even worse because Gilda could easily imagine she had gone through the same mental process.

“So, what do you do for a living, Gilda?” Gertrude asked with such a sweet smile.

Gilda hesitated at first. Her first reaction would’ve been to push the griffoness and tell her she’s not going the same path. Like, ever! But she contained herself. “I bake. Scones. I sell them near the hospital.”

“Oh! That sounds great!” Gertrude held her paws with a happy chirp.

“Hey! I think I know you!” Grizelda suddenly sat at her cot. “I ate your scones once. They tasted good enough.”

“Gee. Thanks.”

“What? I said they were good.” She shrugged. “How did selling scones get you here? Did they come up with a license or some shit?”

“I punched a guy because he didn’t want to pay.”

“Feh.” She came closer to Gilda and Gertrude. “Such a pony thing. You can’t even defend your own stuff. Sometimes I wish we weren’t together.”

Gilda agreed and for some stupid reason the younger griffon’s acceptance made her feel a little bit better. Gertrude pushed the other’s shoulder. “You sound like one of those griffons from the north that you hate.”

“Heck no!” Grizenda shook her head violently. “I wouldn’t bite that hook if it came with a nice beach home and some dumbass to pay for my expensive tastes.”

The other sighed. “I don’t know. My ex went there and hasn’t come back.”

“Maybe he died…” Grizelda deadpanned.

“No… He is tough!” Gertrude’s dreamy eyes aimed at the plastered ceiling. “Maybe everything would’ve been different if I followed him.”

“Yeah, sure…” Grizelda sat and crossed her forelimbs. “I can definitively imagine those boors treating nicely a pair of hookers from the ‘degenerate south’.”

“Well, we weren’t back then.” Gertrude’s gaze fell. “I hope he is okay. I mean… It is a long distance.”

“Nah. You wish he would come back to rescue you…” The other scowled.

“Huh… It seems as though everyone knows someone that made the trip to the North.” Gilda mused. “Why didn’t you go with your guy?”

“I was scared and had my job. I tried talking to them later, but they weren’t interested in helping me." Gertrude kept her gaze downward. "I guess I’m not good enough…”

“What even is up there? Some sort of lost griffon paradise?” Gilda opened her forelegs.

“Something like that!” Gertrude grinned and held her paws together with excited shaking. “It’s where the future king of the griffons lives. It’s gotta be a paradise! Must be such an awesome dude too! All badass northerner griffon. Maybe he’s the tough silent type! I mean… They call him ‘The Lion’! How cool is that? Or maybe he has a surprisingly easy going, suave thing going on!”

“Most likely a dick with too high an opinion of himself and about as corrupt as Silkfeathers." Grizelda rolled her eyes. "For real, hen? We know enough guys to know that the ‘king’ you’re imagining doesn’t exist!”

“You’re just bitter you never found one for yourself!” The former accused, poking the younger one with a talon.

“Yeah… Because you did. He just left you behind…” Grizelda shot back a sarcastic grin.

Gilda sighed as quietly as she managed while the two argued. It was going to be a long wait.

She spent the night with the two hookers and for some reason she didn’t really understand they called her first. The same griffon militia lady who brought her in took her to an office where a big griffon lady waited. All white and dark gray with sharp green eyes, she sat behind a large and exquisitely carved wooden table. All sorts of diplomas and such hung from the wall behind her, and she even had a small pair of glasses to make her seen more stern.

“Gilda?” The judge asked and she took a second to reply. The eyes behind glasses rose from the paper she held and almost froze Gilda’s gut.

“Yes! Sorry!” Gilda quickly held her paws together.

“You’ve been charged with aggravated assault of a minor. Witnessed by two officers of the local militia. You see, I have your file here with me. Unicorn efficiency at its finest. So, tell me what happened and don’t try to spin me a sad story.” The big griffon on the other side of the table gave her a dry stare.

Wait! Fuck! Minor?! How old was he? Seventeen? What a joke!

“He didn’t want to pay the two Bits for the scones he ate!” Gilda immediately blurted out without thinking.

“You assaulted and injured a minor over two Bits?” Gilda’s innards turned with the scowl the judge aimed at her.

Fuck! She took a step back and spoke too loudly. “I didn’t know he was a minor! He’s way too tall!”

“Punching griffons in the face is never a good idea, unless you want to visit me.” The other hen kept her intimidating calm, stating the obvious dryly.

“I!” Gilda breathed once and held her tendency to snap back at others. “Yes. You’re right, ma’am. Your honor.”

“The mother wanted to press charges against you, but I talked to them and convinced his father it wouldn’t make a difference. I told them you are in enough trouble with me.”

Gilda really didn’t know if she should be thankful, but kept her beak shut despite her shivering.

“Now, by Royal Law you will attend to an anger management course. Additionally, you have three options: a two-thousand Bits fine, one month in a correctional facility or two months of community service. I believe your choice should be obvious, but the law obligates me to inform you that you do have the right to appeal to the Royal Court.”

“Chances are you’ll be sent to the Mid-Day Court. Princess Celestia is likely to repay you your two Bits and send you to Shatteredrock, because that is what she does to ‘dangerous’ griffons. If your case is sent to Princess Twilight Sparkle, considering you are who you are and who you are friends with, you may end up starting a war already. So, you see, your choice should indeed be obvious.”

It sure was, Gilda just didn’t like it! She didn’t have the money to pay, nor could she get it. She simply wouldn’t spend a month in a freaking jail! And she loathed of doing community service, but she had no choice.

“I’ll be honest with you Gilda.” The judge removed her glasses and her stare made Gilda shrink as small as she could. “I am only doing this for you because I have never seen you here, and you strike me as a good griffon, merely one in need of guidance. I understand that you are struggling in the current situation.”

Yikes. Though Gilda could imagine the sort of trouble she’d be in if the parents insisted on pressing charges against her. She just didn’t feel very helped, though.

The judge picked up the paper and squinted at it for a bit before staring at Gilda again. “Yes, it seems to me that you are trying your best, unlike certain other griffons. If that wasn’t the case, I would send you to prison. Assaulting a minor is a grisly crime anywhere.”

The white griffoness put her glasses back on. “Understand that you are under probation, and in your current situation you cannot take loans or acquire any sort of new property. You can expect that any legal procedure will take longer than expected until you have fulfilled your period under supervision. A young griffon in your situation ought to keep to themselves and avoid trouble at every opportunity.”

Finally, she wrote something on the paper she was holding with a quill and handed Gilda a small paper. “You may go, now. Stay out of trouble and behave in your community service. You are expected in the city hall in the first hour tomorrow to choose your position.”

She simply turned her attention to the next paper in the pile on her table.

Had Gilda just been incredibly lucky? She had no real choice. She thought of asking a restitution for the money she lost with the abandoned stand, but fear put out the idea.

She didn’t think for very long either because the griffon officer dragged her out of the room and out the local militia headquarters.

“Seriously, stay out of trouble. We got enough as it is.” She closed the door and Gilda found herself in the not quite rich, but also not really poor part of the city. A few houses flanked the street and a few griffons walking around, minded their own business or stared at her. Fortunately, no one she knew. At least they gave back her pouch which Gilda slung over her neck and then stored the folder the judge had given her. Also, Greta’s money remained.

She smiled awkwardly to the passersby and flew away, towards the plaza with King Grover’s statue and her stand. Hopefully it would still be there. She didn’t dare hope the scones or any money would, however.

A short flight took her over the buildings, and she found her stand on King Grover’s plazza. She also saw a fat dark-brown and yellow albatross of a griffoness next to her stand. She tapped her forepaw on the cobblestone, impatiently looking around. Right next to her stood the damn ‘minor’ who she ‘assaulted’ with an ugly dressing over his beak.

Landing next to the stand, she by summarily ignored the other two griffons relatively easily. Not finding the scones she had left and not a single Bit hurt quite a bit. She started folding the stand, but the griffoness’s paw tapping the ground pissed her off.

“What?!” She snapped.

“Do you, young lady even understand the damage you caused to my little boy?” The fat griffon's petulant voice almost hurt her ears.

‘Yes, you fat fuck! I caved his beak in! He deserved it.’ The thoughts remained unsaid. The dipshit was so big he couldn’t be that young. How old was he? Certainly, big enough to steal, the piece of shit. She sighed, giving her best smile. “Yes, ma’am. I am sorry. I didn’t want to hurt him, but I really needed the money from those scones he took.”

“Well, I will bet you do!” She huffed, ruffling her feathers so much she might explode. Her screeching so grating, and so unpleasant Gilda took a step back. “Judge Gracey told us the sort of vagrant you are!”

Probably the worse name for the judge. Also, what the hell? But the fat hen wheezed angrily on before Gilda gathered her wits. “You are one of these good for nothing ‘basic income types’ that want nothing good to do with life! You should be ashamed!”

Gilda resigned to listening. It should be over soon.

“I hope you remember what you did. Just because my mate didn’t want to put you in your place, it doesn’t mean that I am not going to destroy your life!” She wheeze-screamed at Gilda like a deranged lunatic.

“Yeah! Destroy your shitty life.” The ‘minor’ added.

She managed to hold her temper, despite how hard the griffones made it, and soon enough the fat jerk took off with her ‘little boy’. The anger and helplessness remained, though. Her throat closed and her eyes stung, and she didn’t want to cry in the middle of street. Instead she let it out.

“Just… What the hell?!” She roared and punched her stand hard enough to make it topple over and then cried before pulling it up again. Fortunately, it wasn’t damaged.

“You okay there, ma’am?” The militia griffon from last day, the male one, came near her, from where she didn’t even know. She hadn’t noticed he was watching1

“What?!” She snapped. “Am I under arrest now for punching my stand?”

She immediately regretted. Fortunately, the worst she got were the weird stares from the passersby and the griffon serenely waiting for her to calm herself. “Sorry. Rough day.”

“I’ll bet.” He frowned and spoke with a sympathetic tone. “I didn’t like what I did… It was obvious the kid was in the wrong… But… You know. The judge is my mom and… ‘This job grows character'.”

Huh… Maybe he is the griffon that should be trying harder. Yikes. “Yeah. I know. Thanks anyway.”

“It’s Gilda, right?” He watched while she finished folding her stand.

“Yeah.”

“You should move to another city.” He spoke plainly, and she blinked at him. “You don’t know who those were, do you?”

She shook her head, still staring at him.

“Those are the mayor’s wife and their kid. Mom washed her paws of your troubles and left you to fend for yourself.”

Just great. What should her even say to that?

“Be careful.” The tom said and moved away.

Move out of town? Easier said than done. She didn’t even have the money for a small vacation within Griffonstone. Crap! He made her feel paranoid.

Alright, Gilda. Chill. She took a deep breath and let her heart slow.

She didn’t feel in the zone to think about such stuff. Better to just go home and figure things out with a clearer head. It probably wouldn’t be so bad anyway. What would they do? She didn’t have much they could take.

And uneventful walk took her home, and Gilda calmed her nerves by the time she reached her door. The neighborhood surrounded her with its typical self soon after nightfall. Indoor lights turned on, a pawful of friends outside spoke to each other in the cooler air. A few acquaintances waved at her and she responded in kind. Some kids ran from one side of the street to the other and she passed a tired griffon pulling a cart full of metal stuff. She nodded respectfully and both kept to their own.

Her home agreed with the neighrbood. A simple sitting room by the entrance with a round window to the ‘front porch’, a strip of pointless dirt with a small stone path to the door. At least the door remained locked when she came in. She locked it again from the inside. Good practice in that part of Griffonstone. Every now and then one heard of a mugging a little too close for comfort. Still, she had never been a victim herself.

Inside, she left the stand by the door, took a glass of water from a jar and looked for something to eat. Her pantry had some dried fish, looking wilted. Eh… Some tomato sauce made it good enough for her mood. She could afford a cold room in her house to better preserve her food, much less a magical refrigerator. But at least she lit a small fire in her oven to heat it a little and make it somewhat tasty. Better than the soybean hamburgers crap ponies pushed as meat substitute for griffons. Or the kirin cheese.

Finally, in between forkfuls of questionable fish and acid tomato sauce she paid some attention to the paper the judge had given her. A glorified pamphlet about the works available for community service with an overdesigned list of jobs and short descriptions. They included cleaning public walkways, which struck as straightforward. Picking up trash other griffons threw on the street. Pass.

Cleaning the gutters which also seemed straightforward, but also disgusting. One would think the damn griffons would’ve built a decent sewer system. Griffons being so fussy about their coats and their feathers as the pegasi. But no… Putting money on something which would actually make the lives of their citizens better was unthinkable. Yeah, whatever. Gilda was not going to clean gutters either.

Next came hospital service, which included bathing and caring for patients in the city’s hospital. Griffonstone housed a rather good hospital, others told her.

The job wich did interest her was cloud duty. Moving clouds certainly seemed cleaner than public walkways and gutters. Not to mention the pegasus weather team would bother her less than anything at the hospital.

Decided. Now to bake some scones. She could take them for selling in the morning after her appointment at the city hall. She would preferably wake earlier and bake the scones so they would be fresher, but it also worked since she would be busy for a while in the morning.

With her work done, Gilda went upstairs. She didn’t feel like a bath or anything, so tired she was. At the same time, after the night in jail she decided her coat accumulated too much dirt and sweat. Bath wouldn’t be a luxury, rather a necessity. Fortunately, she didn’t need much. Simply pouring the water and some soap on the tub satisfied her. Caring for her feathers and brushing her fur too.

Maybe she should get into contact with Rainbow Dash and her princess friend. Princess Twilight Sparkle wouldn’t appreciate it if she tried to make use of her friendship, but what the heck? She was Rainbow’s friend! And her need was legitimate if the mayor’s wife really meant to do something to her.

Before sleep she wrote a letter to Rainbow Dash and would drop it off on her way to the city hall.

But rather than feeling better, laying on her bed invited more thoughts rather than sleep. What happened to Grizelda and Gertrude? One of them was accused of thievery and Gilda had the impression she could be done for. She would probably be sent to some prison. But the other… It didn’t even make sense they arrested Gertrude trying to survive. Did the idiots in charge realize they forced her?

Again, Gilda’s fur stood on her back at the idea of herself being forced down such a path. In the dark of her bedroom, she hugged herself and did her best to steer her thoughts in another direction.

The whole mess with the Chancellor under accusations of all sorts of improper use of his office and the whole thing about the new griffon king confused her. A little scary. King? When did the griffons decide they didn’t want their elected leader? That some northerner griffon everyone seemed scared of should be their king? Heck, she barely even remembered from school the northerner hold even existed… They said he wanted to change the entire governing system and that Princess Celestia was perfectly fine with it.

She sighed and turned to the other side on her bed. Chancellor, king… Whatever. It would still be Celestia’s face on the money and just another jerk to listen to. With the same excuses and bullshit about why her life sucked. She would still worry about baking and selling her scones if the big-awesome-badass future king of the griffons didn’t get the holds to reinstate the basic income.

Once the whole mess blew past, Chancellor Gail would reinstate the damn thing anyway. She would just have to survive, like everyone else.

Next Chapter: Labor Estimated time remaining: 33 Hours, 7 Minutes