A couple of days passed and, surprise, surprise. Acquaintances turned to ‘kind-of-friends’ Gilda liked being with. Routine became a thing: bake and sell scones, miss the meeting, and feel bad apologize to Goldina. See patient, friendly banter, see another patient. Rinse and repeat until nineteen, dine and laugh at the stupid thing someone did. Go home and sleep. One day she woke with the sound of thunder.

Right on time too, and actually rested. Her general mood improved over the days; things were working out.

She got her scones baked. Grabbed her purse, her nurse hat, put her stand on her back and left for the plaza. The morning smelled of rain and she could hear a distant raging storm. Common enough for the weather team to build up the rainclouds in the distance, before moving them over the city and let them pour. Curiously, and she wasn’t a specialist like Dash, but there was way too much lightning in that rain. She kept hearing distant thunder.

But she didn’t have time to waste worrying about clouds and rain.

She rushed past the griffons collecting trash. Griffonstone changed in the last years. It used to be a rich and proud city. She blamed the mess with the northerner hold. And the Chancellor stealing their money, of course. Political stuff she didn’t understand nor had the time to worry about. She, like most griffons, supposed things were connected but couldn’t make heads from tails about it. They didn’t have the time, they needed to survive.

That day things changed. A throng had gathered around King Grover’s plaza. It connected the hospital, and the city hall, but it also the Chancellor’s Palace and it seemed the distant storm made a good analogy. Thousands of griffons gathered, flooding the plaza, shouting insults, and demanding the chancellor came out and faced them.

A particularly pissed off griffon lady threw a stone past the closed iron gates and scared the feathers out of the militia griffons before the doors. Even the soldiers on the other side of the gates kept staring nervously. “Come out and face us you pussy!”

“Hey, what is going on?” She asked the griffoness, a dark shade of yellow while her head showed an off-white shade of tan.

“What? You don’t know?” She turned to Gilda, wide eyed. “This asshole mobilized the entire Griffonian Standing Army and sent them to Snow Mountains. The only reason the unit spearheading the maneuver didn’t start this damn civil war already was because Lord Discord showed up and negotiated with the northerners. I have a brother in there!”

Oh… She had seen something about it in the newspapers. She just didn’t think it was so bad.

“It’s actually worse than that.” Another griffon told her, a white and black male just as angry. “They bypassed the Hall of Friendship in Canterlot. They meant to capture The Lion and bring him to be judged here. Completely behind Princess Celestia’s back! This is treason! Princess Celestia said The Lion can be made king, but the chancellor just won’t let go! Everyone and their mothers know he’s stole ridiculous amounts of money from us, and now this! They won’t even talk about the other units and won’t admit to anything! I don’t want my nation in another stupid war!”

Gilda didn’t care about the politics involved. The whole mess got her pay docked and the Chancellor caused it. Angry? Absolutely. But she also saw a griffon selling water bottles among the crowd and decided that she should sell her scones.

And what do you know, it actually worked. She sold all of them, after all, angry griffons needed food too and her scones might not be the best, but they were tasty enough. She only regretted not knowing beforehand. She would’ve made a lot more scones.

Glad she made some good money, despite all the wasted scones from last day, Gilda gleefully grabbed her things and went early to her job. Once she identified as one of the nurses, the griffons working on security let her put her things in a secluded place. A nice nook under the stairs. Out of the way, and out of eyes. She even left her pouch with the money so she didn’t have to carry it around the hospital.

Surprisingly, the day seemed awesome going forward and she carried herself up the stairs and lobby with a raised head and a happy spring on her feet. She even got to eat a delicious stew with chuck steak, potatoes, carrots, and onions. The griffons happily served her despite her being supposed to eat only once a day. No alternatives, but she couldn’t see anyone deciding against th emenu. Also, free food! And on top of it all, she made it to the meeting Goldina kept telling her about.

Nothing fancy, in the nurses’ room by the ward. They gathered, and spent a few seconds exchanging pleasantries with the others.

Goldina didn’t take long before she arrived, but wasted no time. “Hi Gilda! Nice seeing you here! I’m glad you’re with us because we got a doozy this afternoon! Details are obviously not for us, but it seems that the Royal Guards raided a museum that was a front for something shady and there was a fight at Thunderpeak. Lots of shooting, beating others over the head and magical stun sticks. The Royal Guard had many transferred over to us. A lot of patients are getting interned for surgery and they’re all coming to our ward. As usual, I’ve drawn the patients around and I have assigned them to each one of us. The files of the ones involved in that incident have the numbers underlined in red. Standard rules apply and don’t talk to them too much. I’m talking to you, Gina.”

The ‘crazy one’ huffed, but things happened smoothly from there. Gilda didn’t waste time grabbing the files Goldina had for her and put them on a neat pile. Starting with a griffon guy called Grady. A Thunderpeak local militia who got shot in the shoulder. Apparently, nothing too important got damaged, but the wound ought to be cleaned daily. A job for not-nurse Gilda.

She grabbed the stuff she’d need and went to the relevant room. Knocking at the door, an annoyed voice on the other side told her to enter. Past the door she saw the tan and white griffon. A big and fit guy, laying on his side with his head on the pillow and bored out of his mind judging by his unfocused stare. She supposed working in the law enforcement he ought to be strong and fit. Kinda hot, laying like a model, and not even trying.

She coughed and focused on her task.

“Hi. I’m Gilda. I’m here to clean your wound. How are you feeling?” She kicked the door closed with her hindleg and the griffon’s voice came out as bored as he looked.

“Hi, Gilda. I’m just annoyed. Can you believe they transferred me here just because a bullet grazed my shoulder? I should be home with my kids and my wife… Come on!”

“Yeah, sucks.” She said casually while she opened the bundle with her tools for the procedure over the nightstand. Then she slowly removed the dressing, careful not to pull too much at his fur. Not to mention that he looked tough and probably had experience in hospitals. “So, why did they send you here? Doesn’t Thunderpeak have its own hospital?”

She knew she shouldn’t talk too much with him, but who cared? The Book said that she ought to be friendly anyways.

“Yeah… It’s complicated.” He grunted, more from annoyance than her pulling at the gauze stuck to his dried wound. “It’s on the border with Snow Mountains hold and Princess Luna worried about some sort of retaliation. It’s all because of those damn northerners and because our mayor is too much of a wimp to take a stance against those savages. He’s all scared of The Lion and won’t side with our government already. It allowed all sorts of undesirables to get cozy in the city. Pisses me off!”

The wound didn’t look like something even a big guy like him could shrug off casually and it was likely a good thing they sent him to the doctor. As The Book said, it looked like pieces of burnt flesh were removed and it was left open to drain. A bit bloody and watery in the middle, it had a lot of clotted blood. Probably because he moved around too much.

She proceeded with her job of cleaning it.

He kept talking though. “Feathering northerners had some sort of operation hidden in a museum. Can you believe it? But the worst is how messy they conducted the operation. Princess Luna just showed up with her Royal Guards and went in by herself. We only heard of it if because some griffons started freaking out over the shooting and called us. What a Celestia-damned mess! She could have coordinated with us!”

“Yeah, I think I understand.” She carefully rinsed the wound with the gauze in water and soap. “It wouldn’t hurt them to let you guys in, right?”

“Huh. Now that I think of it, maybe Her Highness worried someone inside the force would tip them off. Like an infiltrated mole. I swear… Those pricks are everywhere! If Princess Celestia isn’t going to let Chancellor Gail deal with them, then she ought to do it herself.”

“Nice hospital though. Glad to see the money we pay the Princess to watch over us turns into these neat royal hospitals.” He chuckled. “And some people want Griffonia to split with the ponies. What a load… Yeah... Maybe Gail is a corrupt jerk, but the solution is kicking him off the Chancellor’s Office and putting someone less dumb. Not change the whole system and put a freaking king in his place. Lion's gonna want the title to be inheritable, and that is the least. We're just giving up on democracy, man.”

He sighed. “I mean… I know I’m not supposed to mention it… But… Heck… I miss the time the North was reasonable and got us tasty game meat, even with all the drama the ponies raised about it. And those ass-kicking revolver muskets! I mean, put one of those in my paws with a decent bayonet and I’ll pluck The Lion’s feathers myself!”

“Yeah.” She agreed without really thinking while her mind focused on her job of remaking the dressing. “He sounds like a prick.”

“You’re damn right he does! I’ll never understand how griffons can be so stupid to go all the way to the North and join him.”

His words filled her head with thoughts of Grizelda and Gertrude. She hoped they were alright. Gertrude didn’t seem the kind to make good decisions. Not that Gilda herself was… But she worried anyway.

With her job done, she grabbed everything and put the tray on her back. “All done. Get well.”

“Thanks Gilda.” He gave her a thumbs up. “You’re great at your job.”

She blinked and fidgeted with her paws a bit before thanking him and leaving as fast as her embarrassed self could manage, quickly pulling the door closed with her tail. Outside there were two of the nurses staring at her. Crazy Gina and a pinkish one she hadn’t talked to yet.

“Sheesh, Gilda! What is the point of taking care of a big guy like that and not even feeling his muscles a little?” The first told her she and deadpanned with a grunt.

“I think I’m already in enough trouble as it is…” Gilda told her with a deadpan of her own.

“Aw, come on! Perks of the job, am I right?” She insisted and her friend started giggling while Gilda rolled her eyes and walked off towards the nurses’ room.

Time for the next patient!

For next patient, she got a female earth pony. They admitted her with some sort of lung fungus and had it removed. The doctor had already seen her, and all Gilda should clean the surgical wound. Hooray, routine!

The day dragged on and Gilda lost count of how many patients she saw. The whole staff worked past their time along with the ones from the next shift. Dinner became a fond memory of a dream long gone, unlike the real tiredness.

Her present patient came from Thunderpeak too, but had been interned in another floor. Some old dude called Gabriel who underwent surgery on both his forepaws. No details.

Up the stairs, she reached the lobby with the entrance to the corridor. Much like in her floor, it had a neat space where relatives and patients could walk, lounge around along the doctors taking a break and talk among themselves. A large canopy made the ceiling and let visible the dark and clouded night sky. The storm had arrived in full force and the heavy rain castigated the glass, pounding incessantly with lightning and thunder every now and then.

Ponies almost lost their composure at a loud thunder only to chuckle or smile awkwardly later. She liked the sound, finding something strangely and distantly comforting about it. Tiredness almost caught up to her, and she wanted to get her work done already. No time to appreciate the sound.

A pair of thestral Royal Guards blocked the path to her destination. The night guys, bat-ponies, who liked the Princess of the Night. An unusual sight in Griffonstone. Rarer than their gold-clad brethren anywhere in the world.

“Hey. I gotta see this guy…” She showed them the clipboard. “Gabriel. Gotta clean his wounds.”

One of the thestrals stared at the papers and nodded at the other, who spoke to her with an adorable lisp. Damn cute ponies. “Right, ma’am. Please be mindful he is a dangerous terrorist.”

She blinked at them. “What did he do?”

“We’re not at liberty to discuss this, ma’am. Please do your job as quickly as you can and leave him to us.”

“Yeah. Sure.” She frowned a little but went on her way down the corridor.

“Hey, Smokey! She’s cleared to see the Old Guy!” One of the two thestrals called and down the corridor another one of them waved a hoof by the door.

A young grayish thestral who squinted at Gilda, but opened the door for her. Then she closed it.

The wind and the rain threatened to break the glass in the window, but it held well enough. Lightning flooded the room, soon followed by thunder. Laying on his back on the bed, she saw the dangerous terrorist. An old gray-headed griffon with his body covered by the sheets, but she could see his colors washing away due to age.

Geez. Some terrorist.

Walking closer she saw the dressing over the surgical wounds in his forepaws, all bloody and bulky as the others she had seem during the day, fresh off the surgical center. The griffon’s bulk impressed her. Fitter than most griffons, enough to remind her of the Thunderpeak militia guy, despite his age. He must’ve been a beast in his younger years.

She checked his file. The curator for a museum. The museum the Royal Guard raided? Holy feathers! Maybe he used to do some Daring Do shit to end up looking so buff in his old age.

Anyways, she had come there to clean his wounds, not to guess about his past or to gawk at him. She set to work under the insistent noise from the storm pelting the window and the occasional thunder.

His paws went through surgery alright, and they looked bad. Not the wound, but the injury which required surgery. Then she noticed he had awakened but didn’t say anything or even move.

“Almost done, Grandpa.” She said as nicely as she could. He kept staring at her though. “And quit staring like that. It’s freaking creepy.”

He did shift his eyes away and she focused on cleaning thoroughly through the stitches, slowly, methodically.

“Do you hear the storm?” He asked her casually, though with a serious tone.

“Yeah…” She focused on removing the blood clotted in between the saliences of his skin. “It’s raining buckets outside.”

She felt like an ass. An old guy tried to strike a conversation and she had told him to stop staring. They ad arrested him… She knew how it felt. “So, ponies tell me you’re under arrest and not to talk too much with you.”

She pulled the new dressage around his paw, after she cleaned on one paw. “What did an old dude like you do? Blew a raspberry at someone?”

“You are going to talk to me despite being told not to?” His grave voice filled with curiosity.

She shrugged while she worked. “I wouldn’t be stuck with community service if I was good at following pony rules, now would I?”

He laughed and grinned. “I shot Princess Luna.”

She stopped her work and stared at him, then started laughing. “Dude! For real?”

“With a five-chambered, griffon-made high-caliber revolver. Enchanted bullets too, straight from Stormvalley Armory. Didn’t work as I imagined, though.” He smiled at her again and she laughed too, but his wound drew her eyes.

“Did she do this to you?”

He hummed and nodded. “She crushed my gun paw with a swing of a polearm and stabbed the other to the floor with a dagger. I don’t think the bullets even hurt her and her cursed magic.”

“Damn.” Gilda tried imagining the awkward and generally reclusive princess doing something like that and failed. “I guess I would be pissed too if someone shot at me.”

“What about you?” He seemed genuinely curious. “Why are you here? Somehow, I don’t think you are enjoying.”

She didn’t hate it. Not anymore. She sure liked it sometimes and liked Goldina but being forced didn’t help. She was tired after the long day and something told her to open up to him.

“I punched a jerk trying to steal two Bits from me and ended up breaking his beak. He was a damn minor and the judge said I had to do community service or spend time in jail. No fucking way I would be spending time in a damn jail, so I tried cloud duty with the pegasi. No openings, though. I ended up taking care of the patients in the hospital.” Frustration swelled in her, loathe for the compliance they forced her into. Putting it out lifted a weight from her chest and let her breath in a lungful of air. As refreshing as the storm outside. Her paws met her face and she barely kept from sobbing. “Even had to attend to a class about how to do this crap.”

“It is such a pony thing to punish others for defending what is theirs.” He frowned. “If it is worth anything to you, know I would have done the same.”

Yeah. He would likely have killed the little worm. “Yeah. Thanks grandpa. It’s not so bad. Most ponies are annoying, whining all the time their everything is hurting, but it is easy enough. You at least sound like you’re cool.”

She shrugged. Amazing how well she felt with such a short conversation. “At least I got to sell some of my scones in the morning before my shift. Couldn’t do that if I was in jail.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m stuck here the whole afternoon. I tried leaving the stand unattended, but they took the scones and didn’t leave the money, just a note telling me I’m a sucker. Of course.” She growled and her paws rose up as she contained the impulse to swear. “The problem is that griffons are jerks!”

“I mean… I did those things just as a hobby. But the damn Chancellor had all the southern holds drop the basic income because of the war effort. Now I barely make it month to month with the scones. I just hope I can last until the damn ponies in Canterlot get off their lazy flanks and fix this mess. There shouldn’t even be a war effort, but the damn princess must be too busy with some pony crap to notice her feathering subjects aren’t getting their rights! I pay taxes every time I buy scone ingredients!”

“I pay damn taxes every time I pay for anything! I probably pay taxes when I pay taxes!” She growled. “And now, on top of it all, the damn mayor decided all commerce needs to stop by nightfall because something, something war, something.”

He let her talk her problems out like the one supposed to take care of the other. He paid attention and it endeared Gilda. Someone who didn’t judge. Someone who actually heard. Embarrassing, but he didn’t give her time to think about it. “Your problem is not that griffons are ‘jerks’ either, kitty. Your problem is you are living with the wrong griffons.”

What the heck. “Did you just call me kitty?”

“I mean no offense. What is your name, then?”

“Gilda.” She growled at him. Almost regretted opening up to him.

“Your problem, Gilda, is that your race has been living under subjugation. Under an old enemy. For so long you don’t even remember you are a prisoner anymore or even what it feels like to be free.”

“Yeah, sorry. I’m not interested in your griffon pride spiel. I got more important things I need to care just to stay out of trouble.” She really didn’t care. King, chancellor… Just another dude trying to get rich on her money and neither would care about her problems. Yes, she knew where he would go with his speech, and she wanted not of it. Not when she heard Gertrude going on about it, not from his beak. “I know this stuff, and it’s wrong. I have pony friends, dude. It’s not the ponies, it’s some weirdoes who want to feel special about themselves.”

“Listen to yourself, Gilda.” He didn’t seem impressed. “You have no means of self-support other than what money the government pays you. This is a pony thing. They are the ones who implemented the universal basic income, but once things stopped working how they wanted, they took it away. The Princess, quite literally, pays griffons to behave.”

“This is not right!” She did her best not to let her agitation show. “It’s the Griffon Chancellor that messed things up. He’s the one that ordered the territories to stop it and retained the money for the war effort.”

“But this is part of the problem: The Chancellor doesn’t rule for us. He rules for Celestia. And do you see why he did it?” Did he mean Princess Celestia actually approves of what Chancellor Gail did? Sending an army to the north… Maybe even stealing all he did. Or maybe she turned a blind eye to it because the Chancellor had his uses for her? “Because he is doing Celestia’s bidding. They want the one fit to rule the griffons, for the griffons, gone.”

Gilda frowned. She imagined Gail just wanted more money. He had ulterior motives? Even worse, Celestia’s machinations, through the griffon chancellor? What the heck! “The Chancellor needs the money to pay for his soldiers?”

He chuckled. “No, kitty. He needs you. Your brothers and sisters. He did it so the griffons who embraced Celestia’s ideals would starve until they joined his army. You’ll notice everything Celestia has done to us will work perfectly as long as you are compliant. As long as you violate your true nature and remain docile.”

“My true nature?” She wondered.

“Have you ever seen a griffon using their claws to do a job the ponies have given them?” He showed her his injured paws.

She didn’t answer. Instead, her eyes found the floor and she let her wings sag. She had spent her whole life thinking herself a badass loner who made her own rules and lived however she wanted. But the old dude just told her not only she played right into a system Princess Celestia used to control griffons, but she had done it willingly.

But… Celestia was nice, wasn’t she? Everyone liked her. Could it be she fooled everyone and only those griffons in the North understood it?”

Gilda would be pissed if such was the case, but it also sounded so convenient for them. Still… It sounded reasonable if Gail actually worked with Celestia.

Gilda stared at the griffon, and he studied her while she struggled with his words and her own thoughts. Then his eyes narrowed and he spoke in a low voice, like sharing a secret.

“There is a city, far in the north. Where griffon lands meet the Frozen North. Holy Griffindell, in the Valley of Griffons. Most ancient of griffon cities, it was built before the Windigos were unleashed upon us, and she housed the mightiest Lords of the Sky. Before the pegasi, before the sun and the moon.”

She listened quietly. “It is the birthplace of our race, full of history. Full of pride. It is a journey every griffon should make at least once. Beware though… Most who go will not return because they find their true selves, staring at her black gates where the Conqueror fell before the Dawnbringer.”

“Who is the Conqueror what is with talking like that?”

“You’ll learn in time. In there resides your future king. Lord Gilad Ironfeathers.”

“The Lion?” She blinked.

“And his mate. The most important griffon to ever exist. Lady Gwendolen. The most beautiful, the wisest. Listen and open your heart to her. It will change your life forever.”

Gilda shook her head. He must be going crazy! “That is the most inhospitable place in the world. How am I supposed to go there when I can barely pay my bills?”

She didn’t even know if she could leave the city… She’d get her ass dragged to Shatteredrock.

“If you want change, you must change. Ask yourself… Are you happy with your life? Life-changing decisions are difficult and require much. You may have to throw yourself at an abyss and believe there is one who will hold you. I have done the same. And She caught me in my darkest hour.”

He wasn’t wrong, but Gilda thought the big change she could do in her life involved trying to learn something out of the whole experience. Then again, she didn’t know Celestia was screwing harmless little her and the crazy griffons from the north might have the right idea.

“Meet my daughter, Gerdie, in Haybale. She may have left already, but you were made to thrive in the adversity. When you do find her, tell her I sent you. She will ask you my name, and it is Gabriel. She will then ask you if you can hear the storm. You must answer, exactly, ‘I can hear Her cry’.”

She nodded, listening intently. But what the heck? Did he just giver her some sort of code? Like in one of those dumb books Rainbow’s unicorn friend liked to read?

A thestral pony, another one of Luna's guards, opened the door and walked into the room. He held a sandwich in his mouth, which he dropped, so surprised to see her. “Hey, this guy is under arrest. You're not supposed to be talking to him!”

Gilda just stared at the bat-pony. Sounded like the princesses didn’t want her to listen to the old guy, alright. “Sorry, girl. You gotta go if your job is done.”

She frowned at getting ordered around. The stupid pony with the lisp sure seemed sketchy. Some royal guard who never showed up unless to mess with the locals, like Princess Luna invading some museum and fucking up an old guys’ paws.

“I’m going.” She said and gathered the small tray with the remains of the cleaning kit. She squinted at the pony on her way out, but he didn’t seem to understand.

She left and rushed back to the nurses’ room where she found Goldina, hunched over a form next to a mountain of paperwork still to be done

“Hey, Gilda. All done?” Goldina smiled at her.

“Yeah. I’m done.” She left the files on the table.

“You can take the day off tomorrow.” Goldina told her, signing something.

Gilda blinked a few times before she managed to speak back to the other. “What... I don’t think that I can. I mean… I’m on probation. I don’t want to piss off the authorities.”

The old griffon’s words kept reverberating inside her head. The more she thought about it, the less sure she of anything. What if Goldina was in on it? She treated Gilda too nicely. Maybe she was genuinely a nice griffon, like Greta. But… If not…

“It’s okay, Gilda. You’re not the first.” Goldina giggled. “It is within my attributions to reward your hard work this way. Not to mention, you won’t be too useful to anyone if you’re too tired. You guys did a great job today, and we won’t be getting new patients tomorrow. The ward is closed to new admissions because of the Thunderpeak kerfuffle. I’ll be giving the others half-period tomorrow, so don’t feel too special.”

Gilda chuckled. “Then, I’ll see you after tomorrow!”

The short talk put a spring back on her gait and made her lighter, until she reached the hospital’s front door and realized she would have to go home under the storm. It poured like there was no tomorrow. Dark, cold. Eventual flashes of lightning made the plaza shine in a spectral light only for thunder to echo right after.

She had to be going crazy, but she could swear she saw someone sitting in the middle of the plaza. Staring at her. A distant cry echoed with the thunder, but it all vanished in an instant. Only the cold rain and the dark plaza missing its public lighting remained. Until the lights simply came back into being and illuminated the plaza under the rain. Definitely empty, and she chuckled. Who would be out in the middle of that downpour?

“Did you…” She still turned to the security griffon next to her but stopped mid-sentence.

“Oh well…” She sighed to herself, looking at the empty plaza with pools of water. “It’s just a little rain.”

She could even get some rest tomorrow since her scones sold well in the morning and she had the afternoon to herself. She probably wouldn’t rest, though. She would bake more scones and go sell them.

“Ma’am, you can leave those here if you want.” The security guy for the hospital’s entrance told her when she went to grab her stand and the rest. Some normal looking guy with tan fur and a yellowish head wearing a ‘Security’ black cap. “I know you. I saw you in there selling your scones. And I mean… This stuff isn’t bothering anyone.”

“Thanks.” She smiled at him, and he nodded, holding his cap before going back to his post by the entrance. The water might ruin the stand, after all. She left it and her nurse hat but took the pouch with her money.

Not much left to think about. She walked out of the building under the storm. The rain came down hard and cold as it looked. Not much point in running as she’d be soaked when she got home anyway. Flying in the wind would be dangerous.

Not a soul outside, not even the poor griffons trying to scrape a living off junk. Most houses shone lights out their windows and she could see griffons inside going about their daily routine as much as the rain permitted. Seeing families, made her wonder if she had made a mistake deciding she wanted to live alone. Sure, she liked the freedom and the space she had for herself but living with someone else would certainly make those times easier to live through.

Or maybe the wet fur bothered her. She would win, despite her irritating interaction with the legal system. At least she met some great and nice griffons.

At least the rain should clean the cobblestone streets and wash the smells away. She couldn’t remember the damn city smelling so bad in all her life.

Surprisingly, some griffons had come out and there seemed to be some sort of party with a huge bonfire up ahead. The crazy old lady who lived across the street from her was probably freaking out. Gilda supposed she would too if some idiot lit a bonfire on their front yard.

Speaking of her, she came running at Gilda, all flustered and panting. Honestly, Gilda always thought of her just an annoying crazy old lady. Never to have the drive to come out of her house and run towards someone and complain about anything.

And old, greyed out lady with small glasses and a navy-blue scarf, she could barely move faster than walking speed, coming towards Gilda under the harsh rain.

“Hello, Miss Gemma. Should you be outside with this rain?” She smiled with a frown at the old lady.

“Gilda! Dear! Your house is on fire!” She screamed.

Gilda’s first reaction was a chuckle. How could anything be on fire with the freaking storm pouring water over everything? No way her house was on fire.

After a heartbeat of hearing the news, she broke into a frantic flight until she arrived at the front yard, surrounded by griffons. They stared while the firefighters, pumped water from their cart and hosed water inside through the windows. Something cracked and two of them ran from inside the house. Gilda arrived next to their cart just in time for the second floor to crash down and shower embers everywhere.

It made a loud crack, but she screamed louder. “My house!”

“My house…” A whine escaped her. Everything she had, but the stupid stand, somehow, burned in one of the worse storms the city had ever seen. How did it even happen? Her house! It wasn’t much, but it was hers. Her home. The last thing she had mom left for her. Gone.

She sat under the snow, along in the middle of all those griffons. The burning embers amid broken planks filled her eyes and her beak hanged open, letting drops of rain.

“Ma’am, did you live in this house?” A cyan male griffon came to her, wearing the red hat of the firefighters and looking sorry, covered in a mixture of water and soot.

“Yeah… I guess I did.” She sighed, turning to him.

“I’m terribly sorry, ma’am. Something inside caused the fire and weakened the structure.” He avoided her gaze. “We did what we could. I’m sorry.”

Wait! Her house was insured! Yes! It wasn’t over yet! She and her mom paid thousands of Bits in insurance over the years. The tought even caused her to smile. “I'll go to my friend's house… Take a bath and then, in the morning, go see the insurance office.”

“Oh. That is a bit of good news then. Take care, ma'am.” He nodded his hat and smiled. “We'll be here in the morn and see if we can find some clue to what caused the fire. You should visit our headquarters. We may have something for you in a few days.”

“Thanks.” She grinned the best she could. Things looked grim, but not so bad. Maybe she tried some optimism. She might even get a better house with the insurance money.

Right then she needed to get out of the stupid rain. Fortunately, Gilda had someone she could depend on.

A quick trot took her to the nicer, richer part of the town. Not that the griffons who lived there were rich, merely better in life than most. Nicer houses, but still under the same damn rain. The one she looked for had a white façade with a greenish roof and a nice grassy lawn, complete with a small stone path to the door.

Unfortunately, the house had no cover over the front door and she still stood on the rain while she knocked. The cold started to creep into her.

Fortunately, it didn’t take long for someone to open the door. Greta’s husband, a nice looking cyan and white griffon gave her a disinterested glance despite her grinning at him. It took him a few moments before he recognized her. She must look like shit; so tired and soaked in under the rain.

“Oh my gosh! Gilda! Come in!” He squaked and came out of the way, gesturing for her to get inside. Gilda wasted no time in doing so, dripping on the nice gray-green carpet. But Mister Gary didn’t mind.

“I'm sorry to disturb, Mister Gary. But…” She started, but he didn’t let her finish.

“Don’t say a thing, Gilda.” The living room and dining room connected together and to the kitchen, making for a spacious entrance. A staircase in the middle led to a mezzanine, another living area towards which he shouted. “Greta! Bring a towel! Hurry!”

She appeared on the second floor, squeaked, and seconds later flew down the mezzanine bringing said towel on her beak, promptly delivering it to Gilda. The tan, soaked, hen felt like a burden, but wasn’t prepared to decline.

“Goodness sake, did something happen for you to be out in this storm?” Her friend fussed about, trying to help her get dry and it just made Gilda feel worse to impose. Reality had come crashing down on the awesome and independent Gilda once more.

She blamed the storm. She blamed herself for punching the kid, but it was the storm. And her house catching fire.

“I had just come home from work… It burned… My house caught fire, somehow.” She showed a soft smile and hugged herself under the towel.

“Goodness!” Her friend gasped. “Will you be alright?”

“I suppose insurance is finally going to be worth something, right?” She chuckled and it hurt her chest, so tired she was. Every part of her body ached and she felt generally miserable. Stupid rain. At least she had her friends. Well, her friend Greta and her husband, because Dash was miles away.

Surely, Rainbow Dash and her friends would help, but reaching out to Dash would be a lot harder because Dash… Well, Rainbow Dash was Rainbow Dash, and Gilda couldn’t pay for the teleporter fee, much less travel all the way to Ponyville.

No, Gilda would be stuck with Greta and her husband and she was damn grateful the two of them didn’t kick her out.

“Wait, did you say you had come home from work?” Greta blinked. Gilda supposed she would be surprised.

“Well, not really job… I mean… I got into trouble with the law. I punched a jerk who stole some scones from me, and I went a bit too hard on him. I broke his beak and now I gotta do community work at the hospital.” For some reason telling them came easier than she had thought, but her cheeks burned, and she smiled sheepishly. They had such a nice life, with a nice home and good, decent jobs. She felt so inferior. Even Rainbow Dash had a job.

She had a job though: baking scones. Not that hot of a job, but a job. She had to remind herself she simply caught a bad spell and things would be great again.

“I can’t believe this, Gilda…” Greta growling at her like her mother even made Gilda chuckle. “I can’t believe this! You ought to know better!”

“Yeah, I know.” Gilda Looked at the carpet sheepishly. “I screwed up bad this time.”

Then Greta scratched the back of her head while her husband looked at them and she sighed. “Let’s get you settled in. You can stay in the guest room, and dinner will be ready soon. You can stay with us until you get a new place. Alright? Or until you get this while mess sorted out.”

She looked past Gilda at her husband and Gary blurted out. “Oh! Yeah! I mean, you got insurance, right?”

“At least that I do.” Gilda showed a shallow smile.

“See? We’ll figure this out, just like that.” He snapped his fingers and grinned. “I mean, it’s not standard practice at work, but I’ll talk with the guys in the city hall to see if we can’t fast track your money. It’s a bit awkward since you’re on probation, but I could vouch for you and it should speed up the process.”

What? She just stared at him in the dumbest way a griffon ever stared at another. Greta giggled and explained.

“Gary works with insurance in the Mayor’s Office.” She gave Gilda a big smile. “Insurance is in the city hall too.”

“Thanks, Gary. I never knew.” She should be happier after what they said, but she had depleted her energies.

Anyways, whatever Greta had in the kitchen smelled great. After a nice (second) dinner with friends, she’d catch some Z’s and, in the morning, she would do her part with insurance. Hopefully, Gary would get her money in no time, and she could get out of their feathers.

Next Chapter: Reverie Estimated time remaining: 31 Hours, 60 Minutes