I am sitting on a rocky ledge above a howling wind swept valley, the jagged peak behind me capped in a dusting of snow. The air carries a slight chill, but the speed of it is what robs my breath until I raise a wing to shield me. Looking through narrowed eyes, I see a copy of myself on a ledge further away. She is watching me, the wind not even phasing her as her gaze cuts through the chill to me like a dagger. Not a glare, but certainly not friendly.

“You’re making me weak.” She accuses.

We are hundreds of feet away, yet I hear her as though she is whispering in my ear.

I say nothing. There is nothing to be said. Her words carry the undercurrent that she believes it wholeheartedly with no doubt at all. Snow blows by with tiny iridescent flecks like bone shards shattered from past fractures of the mountain’s peak.

“Yet the woman let us stay. Your kindness got us shelter and food.” She continues, still unwavering in her gaze and stance, but the wind eases slightly, to where I can lower my wing.

I nodded. “It was your kindness.” I said without pause. “I had nothing to do with that.”

“I have never thanked anyone in my life.” She says with a smirk. “I think you had something to do with that.”

Then there was a flash of insight that told me point blank that that had been a lie. “Oh? What about Dash?” The words were out of my mouth before I even had a chance to think about them.

She managed to keep her composure well enough to only raise an eyebrow. “Well. I guess you got me there. We can’t stop this, Cale.”

I didn’t want to understand. “Stop what?”

“My sudden willingness to apologize, my understanding that in the past I have sacrificed a lot for my ego, that I wish I hadn’t. Your sudden confidence and ability to feel when I lie to you. I felt that too. We can’t stop it.” She said, looking away from me and out into the valley below.

I could see that the wind did not touch the trees down there, and wondered why I was staying up in the mountains, when life could be so much easier down there.

“I don’t like this.” I muttered. It was just as clear to her as her whispers were to me. The valley would be nicer, sure, but would we lose each other trying to go down hill?

“I don’t either, and I’m usually the one jumping into crazy situations claws first. How do you think I feel knowing that I am a character from a show? This has bad idea written all over.”

“Look on the bright side. I could be one of those creepy guys who actually watched it.” I added, almost in humor.

She simply resumed her glare. “Uh huh. Dweeb.” Though the glare had turned into a small smile.

“Yeah yeah, Dweeb yourself, Gilded.” The dream crumpled and folded like torn paper.

-----

There was a lot less of a distinction between us now. I was Cale.

Cale. Good to remember who I was.

Was.

I shudder at the thought and look around at the trees surrounding me.

“How the hell did I get down here?” There was the moment of panic of unfamiliar surroundings which subsided quickly to the familiar feeling of being lost. Trees.

I was supposed to be indoors. With a ranger. Big iron on her hip. Gun. Danger. Short. Lonely. Lost.

I had been taken into a cabin, a warm place with a bed. Ah, I must be asleep still.

That was a better idea than being lost. It would explain the snow on the ground as well. Crunchy snow. Deep snow. The top part was hardened ice that actively fought to keep from being crunched. It resisted until collapse and the pads on my front feet were submersed in freezing ice and snow.

Yet I do not fear the cold. It is not something that can hurt me. This valley seems familiar, as though I had seen it before.

There was familiarity and there was home. Somehow...

I was home. Wherever Gilda was, this was where she wanted to be, to go back to. To return.

The trees shook, as though from an earthquake, and the dream started to dim.

I missed the snow.

-----

Gilda.

Cale.

Gaile.

Calda

I was... Gilda. Everything else just sounded... Dorky. Horrible. LAME. Except for Cale, but still not as cool as Gilda.

There was a bed. It felt good. Warm.

“Hey sleepy head.” A now familiar voice said from somewhere nearby. I jerked my head up so quickly that my neck let out an audible pop. Oddly, this eased the tension considerably.

The forest ranger was standing next to the bed, holding a steaming mug that my senses soon confirmed to be coffee of some sort, smelled sickly sweet though.

I stared at her for as long as it took for my eyes to adjust. “...for me...?” My voice was still a fine mix of pebbles and smashed glass.

“Sure, though I don’t know how you like yours, so there’s a pot over there. I like mine with three sugar, three cream.” She was smiling. It was... nice...

I growled under my breath. NICE? ARE YOU SERIOUS? Yes I am serious, calm down. At least she’s not shooting us.

“You want some?” She asked after watching me stare off into space for a moment.

I nodded. There was a certain horrible humility to not being able to talk.

“Sugar and cream?” She asked as she walked to the kitchen area, watching so she could see if I nodded or gestured.

I shook my head. I barely knew what coffee was. Most ponies liked tea more than anything.

She returned a moment later with a cup of dark liquid that smelled strongly of earthy aromas. “Here you go. It’s hot but I don’t think you need to worry with your talons.”

I sniffed it, then threaded my talons through the handle of the cup, bringing it up to my beak. Fun thing about the beak is that it isn’t the most sensitive thing in the world. My first sip, therefore, scaled my tongue and made me drop most of it down on my chest, then on my arms.

“....” My silent scream was pretty apparent.

“Oh crap, sorry.” She got the cup from me and set it down before grabbing a cup of cool water. “Sorry, sorry.” She apologized as she handed it to me, using a towel to mop up the coffee from my feathers.

My white feathers were stained an ugly shade of coffee brown. I shut my beak quickly after my little scream, feeling ashamed by my action.

“Oh man, I should have figured you wouldn’t have a way of testing the temperature, I am so sorry.” She kept rambling as she tried to wipe off the stain, fruitlessly.

I tried not to glare at her too badly. It wasn’t her fault she was too stupid to realize something that obvious. My righteous indignation faded almost as quickly at that thought, filling me with just more shame.

Was I growing a conscience, too? Talk about an inconvenience.

“...It’s... ok...”

“You’re just being nice, I am sorry but I’ll make it up to you, okay? Even though I haven’t got a report back from headquarters yet, we can go outside today, maybe stretch your wings out a bit as long as you don’t fly off.”

I managed a pained smile for her.

“Thanks for being so understanding, what with being locked in a cage and all.” She said, as she took the coffee covered towels to a dirty hamper.

I blinked slowly, following her with my eyes. “...” My growl was all that was probably needed to get across that I didn’t like being caged.

After cleaning up a bit, she finally walked to the door and opened it, letting in a slight breeze and the smell of pine needles. Through the door, a path and the corner of a truck could be seen. “Do you need help to get up?”

I stumbled to my feet oddly, my toes prickling with disuse on my back legs, the long taloned fingers on my front just barely resisting the urge to sink into the ground and rip and tear. “You’re just... letting me fly?”

“Well, it’d be hard to fly with a cast on, but I figure you can glide, or at least get some excersize instead of sitting around the cabin.” She says as she leans against the house and pulls out a cigarette and lighter.

I walked outside and followed her, and stopped and stared at the fire. “What are you doing? With that fire?”

“Smoking, bad habit, but it helps me ignore the stress of being out here alone.” She says, taking a puff of the cig and blowing it away from me, assumably so that it didn’t bother me.

“Are you afraid of changing? I think I heard on the news that those who changed are more likely to be around those who change...” Cale? CALE? STOP TALKING THROUGH MY BEAK!

I growled under my breath. My talons sunk into the dirt outside and I knew I’d have to go through the process of painstakingly extracting the dirt from my claws. I wondered where I was supposed to get a chunk of obsidian here, the best stuff to use.

“Changing? What do you mean?” She asked, confused.

I wrenched control from Cale’s feeble grasp. “I wasn’t always a griffon. Or rather, this body wasn’t mine to start with. I’m from another world, but this body used to be a complete dweeb’s.”

“So, that place you’re from, is on another planet? But what do you mean not your body? Do you have like... multiple personality whatsits?” She had an odd look of curiousity.

“You could say that, I guess. Not quite the way I’d put it. It’s like having a constant Downer Dweeb ranting about how he hates me.” I exaggerated, to the chagrin of my body sharer.

“Wow, that doesn’t sound good. This has been going on since before you got shot? What caused it?”

“...I don’t really remember...” I muttered, looking away. “Look, it doesn’t matter.”

She fell silent and finished smoking her cigarette, pointedly not looking at me but instead scanning the trees.

"...Well? are you going to say anything to that?" I felt... bad almost.

“Well... It does matter. If you were just some bird or mountain lion, I’d have you locked in a cage at risk of a concussion. For all I know you could have a tumor or something. I’d rather talk openly with you since I dcn’t do that with the animals.... well they don’t talk back at least.” She said with a sad smile.

I wrinkled my face. "Tumor? What's a tumor?" I sighed. "Why do you think I have a concussion?"

“I don’t think you do, but it’s my job to find out if you do. Don’t worry about the tumor thing, you’d be a lot worse off if you did. Just an example.”

"Uh..." I sighed. "Flying. I should do that."

“Yeah, get a bit of a stretch. Be careful on the landing and don’t go too far. You didn’t let me put the tracking collar on, remember?” She says gently, though ominously patting the revolver on her hip. I have to say it looked like it would to a lot more damage than a limp.

"I'll be right back." I promised, though grudged her with a half glare. I'm not stupid, I get the message. Bow your head to the one with the bigger stick.

I shook my head for just a moment, then crouched down, balling up as much force as I could before taking off in a leap. I thrashed more than flew at first, desperate for the skies

Not so fast.

I was about 50 feet in the air. Cale?

No flying.

My wings locked straight out, into a glide that I could barely control.

“Stop it Cale. Let me have this, I’ve had to put up with you already, let me control my own body for a damn minute.” I growled into the wind, squinting as I tried to wrench control away from him.

Land. I want to breath again. All I can hear is your heart beating.

“Let me fly for a bit, and I will let you have control when we land, deal?” I hissed, furious that I was bargaining with my own wings, but knowing that a few moments of glorious flight would be worth it. Being land bound is torture.

LAND OR I MAKE US LAND. I WANT TO TALK TO THE RANGER.

I couldn’t help but tear up, because of the wind. I roughly slid to a stop across the pine needles of the forest floor, a hundred feet from the ranger, and wiped the water from my eyes. I must have gotten a bug in my eye. Damnit. I finally flung control back to him, with enough force to daze him.

"Oh Hell yes." I growled, back in control. Glorious muscle.... glorious air. How long had it been? A day? Two? Did it matter?

I was almost tempted to make a run fir it from the ranger, to run and enjoy life to the fullest. To feel the wind whip at my wings... Mmm....

I was before the ranger before I had a chance for treason. I was smiling from ear to ear, I imagine, almost high on the joys of life and living.

Which you stole from me. I could swear her thoughts sounded like they were choking back sobs. Not like she had tear ducts in my head anyway.

“You enjoy your flight? You looked like your wings froze up, or is that just how Griffins fly?” The ranger asked.

I swatted at Gilda in my thoughts like hitting a cat with newspaper. "Oh, that was just her losing control. Funny thing, that."

“Her... What do you mean?” She asked suspiciously.

I leaned slightly. "The name is Cale. and it feels great to be alive." Did I look manic? I don't know.

“Ah, so Cale. Gilda and I have an agreement. She is staying here until she recovers. You seem to have opened your stitches, will you let me patch you up?” She asked, her hand near her revolver though not on it. Very cautious.

I nod at her. My leg was starting to hurt, and medical treatment couldn't make it worse. I limped slowly inside and looked around the room that I had only seen through a sort of distant mirror before, before feeling a slight pinch on my hindquarters.

"Oh, and I checked you earlier. You're in heat." The ranger said with a sympathetic tone.

Well. Shit. I forgot about that.

“What the...” I looked back to see a large and now empty syringe sticking from Gilda’s, or my, rump. “Oh well when I... did.... and...”

I will never know how that sentence was supposed to end, because I passed out.