I walked the cold, moonlit streets of Farrington and noted how utterly sparse they were. The days leading up to Tuesday’s storm had been seasonably humid; after the rain, the night air carried a noticeable chill. My short mane bristled and I felt my hooves tremble, but that had little to do with the temperature.

My first destination was Farrington General to make sure that Starfall had even made it there. With a wince, I hoped that—unlikely as it might’ve been—my mistakes hadn’t cost two individuals their lives this night. Instead of dwelling on that morbid possibility, I used my growing sense of dread as fuel to push myself faster and faster. By the time I got to the hospital, I was in a full-out sprint.

Because of the number of injuries in Farrington, the main hospital was one of the largest buildings in the city—even larger than some of the refineries in the Artisan District. Its clean, white walls looked silver in the moonlight, and when I reached the front entrance, the light inside spilled out through the glass to illuminate a bloody trail of hoofprints. I traced it backwards, outside of the artificial light, where the moon turned the hoofprints black on the cobblestone. Relief and guilt washed over me; even if he had to do it alone, he at least made it to the hospital.

I passed through the double-doors into the bright white lobby. Inside, a janitor was mopping the Farrington emblem in the middle of the floor. His water stank of bleach, and the mophead was stained a disturbing shade of pink. I ignored both and got his attention. “Excuse me?”

He turned to me, seemingly glad to have a distraction from his duties. “Oh! Captain Bulwark! One of your guards just collapsed in here, not forty minutes ago. Made a mess on the floor, too; blood everywhere! That stuff’s not easy to mop up, you know?”

Then get a better job, I almost snapped. Instead, I tried to confirm, “It was Lieutenant Starfall, right?”

“I didn’t catch his name, but he had a busted wing and a pretty bad stab wound, but they came and got him.”

“Where is he now?” I asked.

The janitor gawked at me cluelessly before he walked over to the information desk and yelled, “HEY, CARD!”

An irate-looking mare passed through the swinging door behind it and glared at the janitor. “This is a hospital! What is wrong with you?”

He gestured to me. “Captain Bulwark here’s looking for that other guard.”

She craned her neck around the janitor to she could see me. “They took the lieutenant to the trauma center. I don’t know anything else.”

That was all I needed to know. I thanked her, turned around, and left the hospital for Starfall and Comet’s house. It was a short trip; they lived near the northern edge of the Market District, just a few blocks from the the city wall.

When I got to their house, I let myself through their gate and walked up to their front door. I took a deep breath, then knocked loudly in case Comet were asleep. Just like Sherry had told me, it wasn’t necessary; within a matter of seconds and a rush of hoofbeats, she was at the door. As soon as she saw it was me, she let out a quiet, despairing whimper before she covered her mouth with a forehoof.

Probably too quickly, I interjected, “It’s okay, he’s only in the hospital.”

The news made Comet hyperventilate for a moment before she threw herself at me, crying. I held her, taking care not to put any pressure on her scars, and like every time she hugged me, I was thrown off by how incredibly light she was.

After she composed herself, she pulled away and put all four hooves on the ground. “Sorry, Iron,” she said with a tiny sniffle. “It’s just... he’s over two hours late, and I woke up alone, and there wasn’t a note, a-and I thought...” She dissolved into tears a second time, so I drew her into another hug. She returned it, and we stood there for a few moments while she let out her worries.

Finally, a second time, she found her voice and asked, “What happened?”

As much as I dreaded the truth, I had to tell her. “He and Gilda got into a fight in the Market Square. She put him in pretty bad shape, but he’s alive.”

She pulled away from me, looked down, and shook her head slowly for a few turns before whispering, “Idiot.” A few breaths later, she looked back up to me and said, “I need to go make sure he’s okay.” She hesitated before asking, “I know it’s late, but can you stay here in case either Hailey or Moonshine wakes up? I’ll be back before your shift starts.”

I snapped a salute at her. “I can and will, Comet. I have to work out what I’m going to do about all this; I don’t think I could sleep if I wanted to.”

She went into her house and I followed her. After she finished loading up her saddlebags with various documents and supplies for the hospital visit, I stood to the side of the hallway to let her pass. On her way out the door, she gave me a quick peck on the cheek and told me, “The coffee’s in the middle cabinet, help yourself.”

All I could do was nod before she was gone. I considered calling after her to have her wait for an officer escort to the hospital, but it was a good neighborhood and she was in a rush to begin with. Besides, the hospital wasn’t far away; Comet could probably get there before I could find a guard.

I locked her front door before I went into the kitchen to take her up on her offer of coffee. It had been a long night already, but I knew it was only the beginning of an even longer day.

While the decanter filled, I wondered about her two foals. While I hoped they slept until morning, I found myself idly wishing they’d wake up to keep me company. I shook that selfish desire out of my head; if they woke up, I’d have to explain my presence, and it wouldn’t be a fun night for anyone.

I resigned myself to being glad that my own house was empty for the night. For all the difficulties I faced that evening, Maxie was out on a delivery; at least I wouldn’t have to deal with the situation of her worrying over waking up in an empty house—and then her resulting self-righteousness.

My coffee finished brewing, so I poured my first cup of the day. Comet was at the hospital, Sherry was helping me with the Guard, and by this hour, Maxie was probably in bed with a strange stallion. Everyone else I knew in Farrington was probably still asleep, which gave me an odd sense of calm.

However, that made my thoughts wander outside the city. And as much as I didn’t want to worry about her—or what I had done to her—I couldn’t help myself. As I sat down on my friends’ couch with a steaming cup of coffee, I wondered where Gilda was, and how she was dealing with everything that had happened.

The Jägerwald was quiet, still, and deadly.

Earlier, I’d left Farrington by flying over the north wall. If anyone cared enough to net me down, they were too slow that night. On one level, I registered a sheer, raw hatred over being thrown away, but for now, I had more important matters to attend to—like the seven-inch knife that was still embedded in my shoulder. My palm also needed something more than a spit-scab.

That all boiled down to a few healing lessons that the Records-Keeper had given me. Now, that wasn’t to say she cared about my well-being—she was in cahoots with Father—so it was probably more that she didn’t want my blood to get all over my tribe’s laws and histories.

Either way, she—not Father—told me about how saliva could close almost any wound. Apparently, it came in handy after mating season. I wouldn’t know. But for intentional injuries, like the ones I always showed up at her cave with, there was Lebenwedel—a rare herb that grew near running water. Alone, it was worthless, but when chewed up into a paste, it turned griffin saliva into a potent, violent mixture that knit flesh back together.

Of course, that made it deadly to swallow. I wasn’t curious enough to ask how she knew, but the Records-Keeper told me horror stories about griffins’ throats, stomachs, and other parts closing up because they thought it was a good idea to eat it with every meal.

Still, my injuries were worth the risk of putting it in my mouth. That wasn’t the only risk I ran, either; the only place I’d ever seen it growing was near the stream that marked the southern border of my tribe and Equestria. As I walked along the southern bank of the stream, I kept glancing on the other side and off into the distance. It was almost irrational; I was in the Jägerwald. If I ran into anything that could think, odds were good that it could kill me.

At the very least, the moon was still shining bright, which helped me search for some Lebenwedel. That convenience was offset by the fact that, at that point, I only had one limb that hadn’t been cut up by Starfall’s knife. Sure would’ve been great to go to the hospital, I wanted to scream, but I kept quiet. Yelling would’ve been suicide. Instead, I listened to the stream gurgle, and I hoped I would be able to hear a predator coming before it killed me.

After nearly twenty minutes of searching, I smiled at a familiar leaf shape. It was a small victory—tiny, really—but getting my wounds closed up properly was the first step to... whatever came next in my life. I ripped the Lebenwedel out of the earth, then brought it over to the stream to get Starfall’s knife out of me.

Lucky for me, it wasn’t the first time I had been stabbed; I knew to be slow and steady when pulling the blade out. It resisted, and when I pulled harder, felt the blade tearing along the sharp edge. Teeth, I noted, and I braced myself for the fun part.

I shoved the blade back in, then pulled down at the same time I pulled Starfall’s knife out.

Pain wasn’t the right word for that agony, but I wasn’t even through the worst part yet. My shoulder flowed warmth down my arm, so as quickly as I could, I chewed up the Lebenwedel, spat the mush into my broken hand, and packed it into the wound as deep as I could manage.

Fire erupted in a searing white light that cut through my vision as Lebenwedel paste almost certainly touched one of my ribs. My right wrist still supported my weight, which was good; if I fell on my left side, I would probably have fainted in shock. I tried to breathe, but that only made it worse. I would’ve screamed, but luckily, the only thing that could escape me was a shuddering, sobbing groan.

H... hard part’s over, I mused. I hoped.

Eventually, I could see again, even though my vision swam. I chewed up some more Lebenwedel and patched up my flank and side, where Starfall had landed a slash. That burning was a cute, tiny thing compared to my shoulder. By the time I ripped the scab off my hand and patched that up, I felt...

Well, I felt like someone who’d been thrown out of a city by a two-faced asshole after his racist friend roped me into an illegal duel. So not great. But my injuries weren’t distracting me from that anymore, so I considered that a plus.

Then, I scoffed and shook my head. There were still a few things to take care of, like getting a personal supply of Lebenwedel to last me for the next few days and figuring out my bathing situation.

Before I left to start walking again, I remembered Starfall’s knife. After rinsing my blood off it, I brought it up to my eyes to get a better look at it. I wasn’t a judge of knife craftsmanship, but it looked reasonably well-made. Near the handle, there was an engraving: a heart that contained the letters “S” and “C.”

It held sentimental value to Starfall, too, which made my trophy all the sweeter. Because now, it’s mine.

Then again, I’d live with the scars from that duel for the rest of my life, so it wasn’t like I’d need a token reminder of it.

That brought me back to my healing situation, so on that note, I walked along the stream some more. It was much easier now; I trusted Lebenwedel more than I did a spit-scab, so I could put more weight on my right palm. Also, my cradled left arm was just a dull blaze now—painful, but it distracted me from the pain on two of my three walking limbs.

After what felt like an hour later, I had enough Lebenwedel to last me for a while—especially if I planted some of them near my cave. I tested my left wing; moving it was only slightly unbearable, which probably meant I’d survive the trip home if I took it easy.

Then... I didn’t know. The world was mostly open to me, barring two pony cities. I should’ve been worried that I was losing access to Equestrian cities at a fairly rapid pace, but as I took flight and headed home, the only thing I could focus on was getting back to my blanket and sleeping.

I’d earned that much, at least.

I woke up with my chin on a pillow that wasn’t mine. When I pulled my head back to look at it, something obscured the vision in my left eye. Out of my right one, I saw I was in a hospital room, but I couldn’t remember going to a hospital.

Everything felt... fuzzy, almost padded. I noted a few bags hanging from a stand near my bed; as I tried following the tubes, I noted that I was actually blind in my left eye. I grinned mildly at that fact, which in turn made me grin even harder...

Whatever they had me on, I found it difficult to complain.

Comet’s voice came from the left. “So, you’re awake.”

I turned to look at her out of my right eye. She was on a cushion by the wall, and her glare should have been worrisome. Instead, I grinned at her. “Hey, sexy. Where are we?”

Her glare got even harder as she walked over to me, which took the edge off my grin. “You’re in Farrington General. Don’t you remember? Last night, staying out two hours late, worrying me to death so you could get this?”

She shoved a hoof into my shoulder, and pain burst from it. Even though it was hazy and distant, it was enough to make me groan involuntarily. It cleared my mind, so I remembered how I had been stabbed, who had stabbed me... The rest of the night’s events came rushing back to me: Duel with the half-breed. Losing. Being shunted aside by Iron.

I looked back at Comet, struggling to focus on her even as I felt myself floating away. “Who’s with the kids?”

“Iron,” came her reply.

Anger rose in my chest and burned through the drug-induced haze. I’d never pegged him for the type of stallion to throw around his authority to impress females, but then again, I’d never seen him date anyone. Now, he was watching my children because his fetish had sent me to the hospital.

“And that’s just frigging great,” I muttered.

I felt her slap before I registered that she had hit me. “Don’t you dare...” Comet whispered, trembling with frustration. She took her voice to a normal speaking volume and continued, “What do you think would have happened last night if you had lost your petty little fight?”

“Mare, does it look like I won?” I grit my teeth at her before I tilted my head towards my now-mauled wing. For the first time, I noticed that the cast on it was covered in hot pink gauze. “Nice color, by the way. Do you like adding insult to injury?”

“You were like that when I got here, you arrogant... prick!”

In spite of myself and the drugs, I flinched; Comet didn’t swear—or what she counted as swearing—lightly. After she said it, she calmed down a little and shook her head. “What were you thinking?” she asked in an incredulous tone.

Finally, I realized she wasn’t entirely angry at me; she was just scared. I registered guilt, on one level, because yesterday, I hadn’t really planned much past the “kill the griffin” part of things. Moreover, at the end of a surprisingly even fight, I hadn’t thought of my children or even Comet; instead, I resented having my life spared by a member of a race of murderers.

What have they turned me into? I hated how those disgusting beasts were taking everything from me. First my wife’s flight, then my marriage, now even the love I felt for my children?

I would kill their entire filthy race before I let that happen.

As soon as the thought crossed my mind, reality caught up with me. I couldn’t even manage an adolescent female, let alone a full-grown male. Looking over at Comet, I lamented, “They’ve taken so much from us. Why am I the only one in Farrington who remembers?”

She frowned, then snarled, and for a moment, I thought she was going to hit me again. Fortunately, her anger subsided, and she sagged, defeated. She shook her head and said, “There’s a difference between ‘remembering’ and ‘obsessing.’”

I didn’t want to think about that yet, in case she had a point. Instead, I rested my chin back on the pillow. After a moment, I apologized. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for making you worry.”

She stroked my mane with a hoof. “That’s the least of our problems right now, but okay.” The words carried the weight of hidden meaning under them, but I wasn’t coherent enough to get what she was talking about. Comet took her hoof back and stepped away from my bed. “I need to head back home. Try to get some rest, and I’ll bring the kids by—”

“No...” I almost shouted, but it was difficult to get energetic. I turned to glance at her. “I don’t want them to see me like this.” Even as the proud words left my mouth, the truth in them stung. I had been stuck in a somewhat embarrassing, prone position, and I didn’t want them to see how badly I had been hurt, either.

I turned back to my pillow, so I couldn’t see my wife’s expression, but I knew the face she made when she spoke in her self-righteous tone. “Well, then, wallow in self-pity. I’ll come by if I get a chance, but I can’t make any promises until Iron gets off his shift.”

I shut my eyes and noted that the sun was making it too bright for me to sleep. I didn’t want to give Comet the satisfaction of asking for help, so I’d have to wait for her to leave.

Luckily for me, she left without saying another word.

After I called the nurse to shut my blinds, I lay there in darkness and hated everything about my situation. That didn’t last long, though; combined with the drugs, my weariness from the past night’s activities had an easy time of dragging me away into a restless, vivid slumber.