Night Watch


                                            I asked my roommate to give me a reason why Anon would be in Griffonstone and he said:

                                            >"None. They're all fuckin' Jews."


                                            -


                                            >You trudge down a well-travelled dirt path in the outskirts of a forest...

                                            >...God knows where.

                                            >Twilight said to follow the signs to Griffonstone, you can't miss them, it's an easy hike.

                                            >Bullshit, you got turned around twice now and it's late out.

                                            >Despite Twilight telling you that Equestrian magic had little to no effect on you, it never really fills you with any confidence to do these "Too dangerous for a pony" errands every other week.

                                            >I mean, if it came down to it, you can probably beat up any given creature in Equestria.

                                            >You're definitely no bitch, if you say so yourself.

                                            >Not that you'd want to, everything here is absolutely adorable.

                                            >You walk in silence for a bit, listening to the crunch of dirt and gravel beneath your boots.

                                            >You sigh.

                                            >Well, this isn't so bad. You always come prepared with a rucksack filled with food and camping supplies on errands like these.

                                            >Peanut butter and apple jam sandwiches, yum!

                                            >You were no stranger to the great outdoors back home

                                            >Pa always said that you'll never know when you'll need some outdoorsman skills

                                            >You're really getting some mileage out of that now, huh?

                                            >Thanks Twilight

                                            >...

                                            >Man, it's getting dark out.

                                            >Maybe you should set up camp on the side of the road, get some food and shut-eye.

                                            >Those sandwiches sound pretty good right now.

                                            >Eh, you still have some energy left, you can keep going.

                                            >What's a little more exercise anyw-

                                            >snap

                                            >You stop walking and quickly turn to where the noise came from.

                                            >That noise came from within the forest, you didn't step on anything.

                                            >Only now have you realized that the flickering torches lighting you path have since ceased.

                                            >There is nothing but darkness flanking each side of the path

                                            >You stare into the darkness, listening intently to the eerie, ambient silence.

                                            >...

                                            >You can't help but feel like you're being watched

                                            >...

                                            >Slowly, you turn and pick your lost pace back up.

                                            >Maybe it was the wind.

                                            >...or something like that.

                                            >Weird noises happen all the time, you tell yourself.

                                            >You really don't have time to-

                                            >Your inner monologue was interrupted yet again by rustling coming from the same direction.

                                            >"Who's there?!" you turn and yell into the blackness.

                                            >...

                                            >Silence.

                                            >You're certain you're being followed.

                                            >Dread is starting to set in, you have never felt so vulnerable before.

                                            >"If you're looking for trouble, look somewhere else, I'm armed, alright?"

                                            >You're not armed, of course you're not, why would you be?

                                            >Maybe they won't call your bluff.

                                            >You keep moving, faster than normal.

                                            >What stalks their prey like this?

                                            >What do they want?

                                            >Up ahead you start to see glimpses of light

                                            >You'll feel safer in the light.

                                            >The sound of another bush rustling gets your ass to start running.

                                            >You can barely see anything but the bastion of light up ahead.

                                            >The rustling grows near.

                                            >"Leave me alone!" you yell as you run down the old road

                                            >You hear something leap out from the treeline

                                            >You catch the briefest glimpse of a shadow-y figure before all of the wind is knocked out of you.

                                            >You are tackled to the ground, rucksack spilling all of its contents.

                                            >It has you partially pinned to the ground, its hulking mass crushing your stomach

                                            >Fight or Flight, you start flailing your arms and legs as hard as you can.

                                            >Your left fist lands a hit on your attacker.

                                            >You hear it grunt as you feel a sharp claw hand grab onto your right arm and slam it into the ground

                                            >"FUCK", you yell

                                            >A sharp pain shoots up your arm

                                            >You try to land another blow on the shadowy assailant.

                                            >It caught your fist and slammed it into your chest.

                                            >You groan in pain

                                            >"How many times- rrhave we told you!" it yelled.

                                            >It talks?!

                                            >You struggle as hard as you can, to no avail

                                            >You do everything you can to fight it from flipping you over into your chest

                                            >It grabs the back of your head and slams your face into the dirt

                                            >You scream in agony, ears ringing

                                            >"To NEVER SHOW YOUR FACES AROUND--" It screamed again, but trailed off

                                            >It pauses, and the pressure of it pinning you to the ground relieves a bit, but you still struggle regardless

                                            >GASP

                                            >You feel a gust of wind as if your attacker flapped its wings.

                                            >And suddenly, you're free, just like that.


                                            >"Oh my gosh, oh gosh I am SO sorry are you alright? Oh Celestia..."

                                            >You scramble onto your feet as fast as you can, and brace yourself for another attack.

                                            >Your vision unblurs and you're presented with a black teary-eyed Griffon nearly grovelling before you.

                                            "I am so sorry I thought you were a dragon lurking around the forest!"

                                            >You stand there, completely confused as to what is transpiring, fists up, waiting for them to pounce again.

                                            >Suddenly you feel something dripping from your arm.

                                            >It's barely light enough to make out a massive cut going down your forearm, blood pouring from the wound.

                                            >You can see the Griffon's eyes widen in horror upon seeing how much damage it did.

                                            >Everything is spinning now

                                            >You can feel your adrenaline rush winding down as a massive wave of fatigue hits you nearly as hard as that Griffon did.

                                            >You collapse to your knees.

                                            >The last thing you feel is the Griffon lifting you onto its back before everything goes black.


                                            -----


                                            >Ow.

                                            >Ow.

                                            >Head and arm, ow.

                                            >The sound of fire crackling…

                                            >Blanket...

                                            >Warmth...

                                            >Metal clanking… pots?

                                            >Your eyes feel like a million pounds.

                                            >Your eyes flutter open to the boarded ceiling of a ramshackle hut, lit only by the flickering fire.

                                            >You stare at the dim, dancing spectacle in a post-sleep stupor, like you’ve been out for centuries, just taking in the sounds and smells of your surroundings.

                                            >Smells?

                                            >Smells… good?

                                            >Where are you?

                                            >You attempt to sit up only for your body to keep you where you are.

                                            >Aching, pain, ouch.

                                            >You groan and wince

                                            >”Oh hey, you’re awake!” said whoever was beside you, calmly.

                                            >You nearly jump out of your fucking skin

                                            >Your heart’s racing now

                                            >Ignoring the pain, you turn to look

                                            >That Griffon from before, black as the night, sitting on a stool in front of a fireplace, stirring a pot

                                            >It turns you face you

                                            >Uh oh

                                            >The Griffon gets up “Hey, are you-”

                                            >You scramble out of bed, fearing the worst.

                                            >”Hey woah it’s okay!”

                                            >The Griffon reassures you, with an outstretched talon.

                                            >You’re backed up against a wall as it approaches you.

                                            >”I’m not going to hurt you…”

                                            >You’ve assumed your trademark fighting stance again, panting, staring at the Griffon, who’s silhouetted against the flickering fireplace

                                            >Only this time to realize that your arm has been fully bandaged, wrist to elbow, very slightly stained with blood

                                            >”I am so sorry for what happened.” the griffon once again muttered.

                                            >His voice is soft, remorseful.

                                            >Complete opposite from before.

                                            >You take a deep breath and relax, wincing as the pain returns once more.

                                            >”Easy, easy, let me help.”

                                            >The Griffon rushes over to you

                                            >You put your uninjured arm over his back while he embraces you with his massive wings, you slowly make your way back to the bed and sit down.

                                            “You really did a number on me.” you grunt out.

                                            >You look up at him, the first time you really got to get a good look at the guy who beat the shit out of you


                                            >He’s… huge.

                                            >At least, bigger than any Griffon you’ve seen.

                                            >Big, emerald green eyes that nearly glistened in the fire light.

                                            >He smiles at you, slightly ruffling his white-spotted cheek plumage.

                                            >”I’m just glad you’re alright. I can’t believe I screwed up that bad.” he muttered pensively.

                                            >He turns back towards the fire and seems to perk right up “Soup’s almost ready”, he says jovially.

                                            >The absurdity of the situation coupled with the Griffon’s hospitality crossed some wires in your head, nothing was computing.

                                            >Like, what? WHAT?

                                            ”Hold on wait, so you’re just going to cook me some food after kicking the living shit out of me, explain nothing, and think everything is sunshine and rainbows?!”

                                            >Your outburst seemed to startle him.

                                            >He turns back around

                                            >”I was on patrol watching for dragons!” he exclaims in a wavering voice, on the defensive. “It’s extremely rare for another biped to just be strolling around in our territory willy nilly! At night, no less.”

                                            “So what, you just tackle every dragon you see?”

                                            >”You said you had a weapon! What else was I supposed to do? Just let you waltz into Griffonstone so you can do whatever you want?” he backs up slightly and quickly turns to the fireplace, like he’s surprised he had an outburst like that.

                                            >You can barely eek out an “Oh.” as you look to the floor, defeated.

                                            >Oh.

                                            >Anon you fucking dumbass.

                                            >What happens when they call your bluff?

                                            >You get your ass beat, that’s what.

                                            >You cup your hands over your face and sigh heavily.

                                            >Just had to run your mouth, huh?


                                            >You look up to the Griffon. He’s returned to the fireplace, filling up glazed ceramic bowls with ladel-fulls of soup.

                                            >”Thank you for your hospitality. Really.” You say, meekly.

                                            >You can see the corners of his mouth turn up as he finishes filling the second bowl.

                                            >He walks over to you, steaming bowl in hand, and hands you a spoon along with it.

                                            >Among the steam you see chunks of onion, carrot, potato, green onions, and what looks like fish floating in broth.

                                            >Holy shit it smells good.

                                            >”Fish soup.” the Griffon said with what almost seemed like… excitement?

                                            >“Grandma’s recipe. She called it ‘Ukha’ for some reason. I never understood what it meant and she never told me.”

                                            >You bring a piping spoonful to your mouth to blow on it before slurping it up like an animal.

                                            >VERY hot, but good!

                                            >Tastes like childhood memories.

                                            ”That’s damn good!” you exclaim, only now realizing just how hungry you were. You dig right in.

                                            >You swear you can see his eyes light up and sparkle.

                                            >”Thank you! I haven’t gotten to share that recipe with anyone before. I’m glad it turned out well.”

                                            >He was definitely excited. Odd.

                                            >”Well, don’t you have anyone to share it with?” You sloppily blurt out between bites.

                                            >His smile falters a bit and he glances away for a brief second.

                                            >You think you may have struck a chord.

                                            “O-oh, I uh-”

                                            >”No, sorry, it’s fine.”

                                            >He sighs and turns toward a crude table placed against the wall under a just-as-crude cupboard, adorned with a few extra dishes, silverware, and glass phials of spices. You didn’t seem to notice him placing his bowl there. Or the table.

                                            >Quaint.

                                            “Griffons don’t tend to make friends outside of their immediate family, and even those relationships are rocky.” he explains, all the while grabbing the stool by the fireplace and taking a seat in front of his meal.


                                            >He takes a careful sip of his own cooking before continuing.

                                            >”You don’t really accrue a lot of friends when you’re the freakishly huge kid in school, you know?”

                                            “Yeah.”

                                            >You bring another spoonful of soup up to your face.

                                            “Yeah…” and slurp.

                                            >You two sit in silence for a while, enjoying the wonderful cooking.

                                            “I can be your… friend… if you want.” you mutter.

                                            >The Griffon turns to you and glances, almost like he’s looking you over, smiles and chuckles.

                                            >He keeps glancing, as if he’s choosing his next words carefully.

                                            >Ah shit, here it comes.

                                            >“My name’s Garrison. I like to go by Gary.”

                                            >Oh.

                                            >Holy shit, after all of this, we don’t even know each other’s names.

                                            “Oh-uh, Anon. My name’s Anon.”

                                            >Good lord you’re so fucking autistic.


                                            >The light clanking of silverware on china and the sipping of warm broth fills the room.

                                            >Garrison, huh?

                                            >Fitting, he’s basically a walking fortress.

                                            >...

                                            >Hm.

                                            >...

                                            >Really taking in just how big he is compared to you made you ponder.

                                            >You really don’t understand how he didn’t just kill you outright. He totally could have, he had the upper hand.

                                            >You very easily could be dead right now.

                                            >Clearly he was holding back.

                                            >You're glad he did.

                                            >But even then...

                                            >You gaze down to examine your bandaged arm again, and clench your fist.

                                            >Its throbbing soreness travels slightly up your arm.

                                            >The bandage is slightly more stained than before, you notice.

                                            >He really cut deep.

                                            >You gaze back up at Gary, who is face-first into his bowl, munching away.

                                            >You feel like you shouldn’t press him on the topic.

                                            >Almost like he can feel you looking at him, he glances back at you and beams a smile your way, while chewing his last mouthful excitedly.

                                            >You look down at your nearly empty bowl, and bring another bite to your mouth.

                                            >You take a bite and smile back at him.

                                            >Maybe it’s best to leave the past in the past, you think to yourself.

                                            >You gaze out of the window beside you, moonlight pouring in.

                                            >The stars in the night sky shimmer, not a soul in sight; the ramshackle city of Griffonstone at a standstill as its residents rest.

                                            >Serenity.


                                            >That’s not the first time you had to tell yourself that since you came here.

                                            >At times, you miss it.

                                            >Home.

                                            >It’s all so different here.

                                            >While Twilight has done her best to make your stay as comfortable as possible, though not unappreciated, it’s never the same.

                                            >She seems more interested in keeping you as a subject of study rather than someone who wants to just fit in and have a normal life, despite the circumstances.

                                            >You understand why she does what she does, but it still doesn't help the loneliness you feel.

                                            >...

                                            >Hearing that you are the first and only human in this world wasn’t really news you were expecting to hear that day.

                                            >Hearing that you are well and truly the only one of your kind here unearthed a primordial existential dread from deep within you.

                                            >You never really had much left for you back home, your logical mind tells you, but nevertheless...

                                            >You still miss it.

                                            >The stars in the night sky begin to blur as you get a bit misty-eyed.

                                            >But maybe…

                                            >”Hey, uhm, if you want more, there’s plenty left. I can grab you another bowl if you want.”

                                            >Garrison's soft voice knocks you back into reality.

                                            >You turn to see Gary get off his stool and grab his own now-empty bowl.

                                            >”O-oh, yeah, definitely. Thanks.” You say as he trots over to you and you hand your bowl to him.

                                            >You watch him trot back over to the fireplace, humming a tune you don’t recognize.

                                            >But maybe…


                                            >You strain yourself off of the bed.

                                            >You don’t ache nearly as bad as you did.

                                            >You tread lightly across the straw-covered floor as Gary fills a bowl with more steamy soup.

                                            >You approach him, he's still humming to himself, lost in his own world.

                                            "Hey, Gary?" You shakily say, almost under your breath.

                                            >He turns to face you, almost startled.

                                            >"Oh, Anon! Y-you didn't need-"

                                            >Before he can finish his thought, you embrace him in a hug.

                                            >You barely had to hunch to hug him comfortably.

                                            >You hold him for what feels like ages.

                                            >"I-I…" Gary's stammering voice is barely heard over the crackle of the fire.

                                            >You hug him a little tighter.

                                            >You begin to sniffle, tears well up in your eyes.

                                            >You close them and let a tear roll down your cheek.

                                            >Maybe…

                                            "Thank you."

                                            >You pause and sink deeper into the ruffled feathers on his neck, and choke back a few sobs.

                                            "Thank you…"

                                            >...you don't have to be alone anymore.

                                            >You feel him simultaneously wrap his wing around you and rest his talon on your back.

                                            >He gives you a few gentle, but comforting, pats on the back, as if to subconsciously tell you that everything is going to be alright.

                                            >Almost reluctantly, you lightly pull away from his warm embrace.

                                            >You shakily sigh and wipe the water from your eyes.

                                            >You look at him again.

                                            >You see a smile peek out from both sides of his matte-black beak, his emerald eyes giving you an almost tearful look of concern.

                                            >A look that doesn't really know what's going on, but glad it's happening.

                                            >Everything is going to be alright.


                                            -----

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