Valentine's, A la Cilarinnaise

 

It was (quite literally) the middle of February, and since you were in the mountains, you had a thick coat on you. The cold here clearly had nothing on what you’d be dealing with in Avtukia, for example. However, you figured that since you’ve found yourself in a world that had not invented antibiotics yet, you were not in the mood to take chances.

 

There was nothing of interest in the Ampilly train station except for a postal clerk. You could only see hippogriffs coming in and out of the station building, minding their own business. Leaving the warm embrace of the station building, you walked out onto the busy street. After a bit of walking, you found yourself smack-dab in the middle of the city.

 

Downtown Ampilly was a nice sight to behold, the sight resembling one of many idealized pictures of French cities. There were stores, housed in the ground floors of Victorian French “Haussmann-style” residential buildings which were lined up on either side of the pedestrian-exclusive street, selling all kinds of wares: from candy stores to mares’ clothing boutiques.

 

An establishment that caught your eye was a mercenary recruitment office nestled in between a gun store and a “patisserie”. You looked through the window of the store and saw an assortment of small bite-sized cakes. Failing to recall the last time you had tasted something sweet, you decided to satisfy your sweet tooth.

 

As you opened the door to enter the patisserie, the shopkeeper’s bell chimed, inviting out a pink-eyed green hippogriff mare wearing her chef’s whites out of the kitchen to tend to her new customer. She was visibly surprised to see such an alien creature like you.

 

“Bonjour… monsieur?” She said, reminding you that you’re going to have to put your elementary knowledge of the French, or rather, Cilarean language to use.

 

“You are an tourist?” The griffmare said in broken Equestrian as your brain was scrambling for two Cilarean words to put together. With a sigh of relief, you said: “Oh, you know Equestrian?”

 

The mare replied with a nod and a friendly smile. “Oui… yes. Not much.”

 

“Well then. Can I get a dozen of those… macarons?” You pointed towards the pastries you wanted.

 

“Dozen… douze?” She audibly counted from one to twelve in her native Cilarean on her claws. “...dix, onze, douze?”

 

You understood her, and replied with a “Yes.” The griffmare put on a glove on one of her claws before taking a pair of tongs into her gloved claw. As the griffmare neatly packed the macarons into a cardboard box, you took a second look at the pastries on display.

 

You could see a few dozen rose-shaped small cakes, one half were red while the other were white. The trays the roses were laid in neat rows on were labeled “Spécial: « fête des roses »”

 

As the griffmare finished packing your initial order, she saw you look at the rose cakes. “Oh, the roses. They’re for the… what is the word… celebration of the roses.” You let her continue, preparing your wallet to pay for the pastries, “Every… quatorzième? In deux days, there is a celebration of love.”

 

You chuckled. You wouldn’t have been surprised if this world had its own equivalent of Valentine’s day. But the parallels going so far as to take place on the same day steered your mind away until the griffmare snapped you out of it: “Monsieur, will that be all?”

 

“Yes, madam.” You said, and the griffmare giggled. “Douze macarons… a silver coin, please”

 

She took the glove off her claw before reaching out to you. You give the mare the coin before taking your box of cakes. You opened the door, once more hearing the chime of the bell, and stepped out of the store. The cold February weather reminded you to close the door behind you before continuing your stroll around town.

 

You decided to open the box of cakes right after leaving, with the intention to snack on them as you roamed. Suddenly, you spotted a shadow over you becoming larger and larger. As you considered turning your head towards the source of said shadow, you felt a claw land on your left shoulder. Shortly after, a familiar-looking blue arm reached around your neck before the creature behind this stunt pulled you up a bit into the air.

 

“Gotcha, Anon!” A familiar female voice exclaimed as you were dangling a meter or so above the street. The griffmare giggled before properly embracing you from behind before flying you higher, elegantly setting you down onto the roof of the building you were just in. By some miracle, none of your macarons have fallen out of the box you clutched for dear life, and your backpack with the limited luggage you had was still on you.

 

You turned around to see none other than Ocean. Immediately after you turned around, she stood up on her hindlegs and went in for a hug. Being the bigger-than-average hippogriff mare she is, Ocean on her fours makes it so that she’d be on eye level with you. However, as she stood on her hindlegs as she held you in her embrace, this meant that you had a faceful of her chest.

 

Besides sending you to heaven for as long as it had lasted, the hug was also the catalyst that finally sent the macarons you barely got to taste to pastry heaven, as they were crushed in between your and Ocean’s hug. As the griffmare placed her head on top of yours, you let the crushed box of cakes hit the ground before returning the hug, wrapping your arms around her.

 

Ocean split from the hug in her unique way: jumping before flying a bit backwards and sticking a perfect textbook landing. “How did you even find me?” You asked her, flustered and still reeling from being swooped up into the sky.

 

“Oh, I saw you enter that patisserie. I couldn’t resist jumping you!" Said Ocean, still giddy from the little adrenaline rush she gave both to you and herself.

 

“Really?” You replied, surprised that she could clearly spot you from God-knows-where from.

 

“Yeah. I mean, Anon, you are quite easy to single out in a crowd of hippogriffs.” The griffmare said with a smug smile as she poked you on the chest with her claw.

 

“That’s fair… but I-” You said before being interrupted by Ocean.

 

“Anon… How come a sharpshooter like you…” She reached out her claw towards your face before gently pressing two of her talons against it, really close to your eyes, “...have such bad eyesight? You can’t single out your *favorite* mercenary in a crowd?”

 

Her comment made you blush slightly, though you soldier on. “Well, I guess I just couldn’t recognise you in civilian clothes…” You said, your words causing the griffmare to put on a more genuine smile.

 

“Well, maybe you should get a good look in while you’re here. I’m on… a break, I guess you could call it.” Ocean swept her claw from your brow, across your hair, ending at the back of your head. You felt her pulling your head slowly up and down, forcing you to quite literally get a good look at her.

 

Ocean stopped moving your head around as your eyes met hers, her painfully smug smile failing to hide *something* in her scarlet eyes. You couldn’t exactly put your finger on it, though your subconscious was preparing you for a kiss.

 

That look was gone after a blink. “Sorry for the cakes, by the way.” Said Ocean, as she let go of your head, not before giving you a small head pat however.

 

“As a matter of fact, I was going to that same place to put in an order for a cake. I’ll get you something…” The griffmare looked over to the crushed up remains of the box of macarons, now on the ground. “It’ll be my treat!”

 

Before giving you a chance to respond, she jumped into the air, and took off. She then dove in to sweep you up from the roof, ending up in another mid-air embrace, though this time your eyes met hers. In a few seconds, the griffmare carrying you had perfectly replicated the landing from before, setting you down in full sight of the pastry chef griffmare looking at you and Ocean through the window.

 

Ocean took your wrist in a claw and barged into the same pastry shop with you in tow. "Bonjour?" The griffmare behind the counter nervously greeted Ocean, "Why are you doing this with one of my customers?" said the pastry chef.

 

"Ah, Sugar, this monkey-minotaur creature is my coltfriend!" Ocean said before giving you a beaked kiss on the cheek, "...See?"

 

The chef looked at you with suspicion, though her expression relaxed after finding that you were a blushing mess after that small peck. "Fine, then. I guess I'll give you that lover's discount. What would you like to order?"

 

"I'd only like to order a cake for my birthday, something chocolate…" Said Ocean before turning her head to you, "And a couple of those rose cups for the gentlecolt here."

 

"The chocolate birthday cake will be done by tomorrow, as for the roses… it'll be 10 coppers for four." The chef mare prepared her glove and tongs as she saw Ocean take out her wallet.

 

Ocean put two silver coins on the counter, both to pay for the up-front of the cake and for the roses she got you. The chef did the same song and dance, packing up the pastries in a box before taking the coins. Ocean took the rose cakes and receipt for the birthday cake she had ordered before barging back out into the streets, still dragging you along with her.

 

"Coltfriend? Really?" You said, as you've been let go of, and given the box of cakes Ocean bought to make up for the macarons.

 

"A discount is a discount, what can I say?" She laughed, opening the box in your hands and taking one of the red rose cups out of it. "Open up, coltfriend~!" she said, standing up on her hindlegs before holding the cake up to your mouth. Looking down on you, she put her other claw on your shoulder for leverage as you let her feed you the rose.

 

“Here we go! Good boy!” Ocean ruffled your hair, giggling. The cake was quite tasty, the sourness of the cherries and bitterness of the dark chocolate, and the sweetness of the sugary red coating all complemented each other very well.

 

Ocean seemed to have had her fun with you for now, getting back down on her four legs and waiting for you to chew up the cake she fed you, grabbing one of the cakes for herself.

 

"So, when is your birthday, Ocean?" You asked her, breaking the silence as you finished the last cakes.

 

"On the fourteenth, in two days." Replied Ocean, much to your amusement.

 

"I guess I'll have to get you two presents, then… " You chuckled, giving her a cheeky wink before leaning forward to gently say in her feathery ear: "...Marefriend~!"

 

"Oh, you want to play like that, huh?" Ocean whispered into your ear, prompting you to brace for the consequences of your actions, or rather, words. The griffmare reared to stand on her hindlegs, once again putting her claws on your shoulders.

 

Then, Ocean jumped and her wings started flapping, keeping her entire body up in the air at eye level with you. You noticed the look of desire in her eyes from before, which made your legs tremble. Deciding to test the waters, you dropped the empty box you held and put your hands on her chest, slowly creeping up and around her neck.

 

Continuing with no regard for onlookers and passers-by, Ocean put one of her claws on the back of your head and slowly pushed you towards her, the other claw sliding along the shoulder it was set on towards your head, its talons caressing your cheek.

 

After Ocean seemingly got her fill of having you melt in her claws, she dropped back down on the ground, once again standing on her hindlegs. The griffmare extended her wings and concealed your head from any onlookers before leaning her head down to touch your lips with her beak.

 

Emboldened by the privacy provided by your “marefriend’s” wings and the feeling of her beak against your lips, you gave her beak a smooch. Ocean responded with a kiss of her own. It was short but passionate, just enough to set your heart ablaze.

 

"Want me to fly us out of here? I got lunch back at my house." Said Ocean, separating from the kiss, though still maintaining the winged curtain over and around your heads.

 

"That sounds great, Ocean. Just scoop me up and take me away. " You said, and she did just that. She pushed you over before grabbing you in a sort of interspecies reversed gender role princess carry. Afterwards, she soared into the sky at a full vertical angle before leaning forward and heading home.

 

You weren't really able to do any sightseeing from above, though looking at the big, strong hippogriff mare that is carrying you home more than makes up for it.

 

Ocean suddenly dropped in altitude before barging in through an open window, presumably into her room. She then set you down on her bed, which was the first time you've laid down on something comfortable in a week's time. You enjoyed the soft bed while Ocean had her back turned to you, closing the window she presumably flew out and back in from.

 

She turned back to see you enjoying her bed a little too much. "Save that for later! I gotta introduce you to mom and dad." She laughed, offering you her claw as if to help you up, which you accepted. "Come on, now!" Ocean pulled you up and you stood up from the bed.

 

You took your backpack off and put it on her bed. The thick coat also came off of you and was placed on the bed next to the bag.

 

Ocean examined your look for a final time before leaving her room to make the introduction. She quickly used a comb to fix up your hair from the wind and headpats she gave you, and then took your hand in a more romantic fashion, your fingers and talons intertwined, before exiting the room and heading downstairs to meet with her parents.

 

As you went hand in claw towards what most probably will be a chewing out by Ocean’s parents, the eager griffmare still insisted on outpacing you, pretty much towing you in exactly the same way she did back in the patisserie.

 

She chuckled to herself, wondering what her parents’ reactions would be. You, on the other hand, remained relatively quiet, silently pondering on what to say to introduce yourself. On the way, you noticed plenty of militaria lining the walls: sets of armor, weapons of all kinds from firearms to swords.

 

You were dragged into the living room by Ocean. She was expected, of course, but you took the hippogriff on the sofa solving a newspaper crossword completely by surprise. The pencil fell out of the griff’s claws, hitting the coffee table before a feminine voice spoke out: “Ocean Twirl! Who or what is this creature?!”

 

“Mother, this is a friend of mine I found wandering around town! He’s the only one of his kind in this world or whatever, right?” She looked at you. As the conversation was in Cilarean, you weren’t able to understand anything. You simply stared back blankly at Ocean as she looked at you, expecting you to sound off.

 

“Ooooh! I’m sorry, Anon!” She said in Equestrian, before turning to her mother and continuing in Cilarean: “He only speaks Equestrian.” Her mother nodded, though her face radiated suspicion.

 

“So, what I wanted to ask is: can you introduce yourself to my mother?” Asked Ocean.

 

“Very well, My name is Anon, I am a human.” You turned to the mother, politely introducing yourself.

 

“Er… pleased to meet you, Anon. I’m Ocean Gale, Twirl’s mother.” She responded, extending her claw for you to approach and shake, a gesture which you honored.

 

The hand and/or clawshake seemed to have made Gale more comfortable. “Why don’t you two sit down, I’m curious to learn about… humans.” The mother said, gesturing to the empty space on the sofa next to her. You sat next to her, with the younger Ocean joining you.

 

“Coffee?” Gale offered you one of the cups from the stack of empties on the table. Besides the newspaper and the empty cup stack, there was a plate of biscuits and a warm kettle. “Yes, thank you.” You replied. The mother put the cup from the top of the stack in front of you, before grabbing the kettle and pouring the not exactly hot coffee into the cup.

 

Gale asked you as she poured, “Twirl mentioned that you were the only one of your kind, is that true?”

 

“In this world, yes. I’m the only human. There’s a whole ‘nother world of us out there though.” You replied, using two fingers to touch your cup, checking if the contents are too hot to drink. It seemed that the coffee was pleasantly warm enough to drink, so you sipped. The coffee had a nice chocolate-y taste to it, along with a more creamy texture.

 

As you took your time tasting the drink, Gale asked you another question: “You came here from another world? How did you manage to do such a thing?”

 

You shrugged. It was the thousandth time someone asked you that question. At this point, you’d make something up, something so passive-aggressive yet veiled in humor sufficiently enough to warrant at least a smile from the creature that asked. However, as it was your… “marefriend’s” mother you were talking to, you decided to play it safe. “I.. went to sleep, and I woke up in the Avtukian tundra. I almost froze to death.”

 

“That’s where I found him!” Twirl proudly exclaimed in Cilarean, “Remember the job up north where the Tsar hired me and Silent to act like griffons for his little battle reenactment?”

 

You only understood a few words, though Gale was quick to correct her daughter in manners. “Dear, please speak the language everygriff can understand.” The younger griffmare, against what you’d expect of her, apologized first to her mother and then you, before paraphrasing what she said before in Equestrian.

 

“Yes, I think you and your colleagues were rehearsing.” You chuckled before mockingly saying whatever Luanan Griffish (or Spanish) commands that came to your mind.

 

Twirl chuckled at your display. “Yep. We were getting used to the language until my cousin dragged you in.”

 

“...And you took whatever was in my pockets?” You poked at Twirl with your elbow.

 

“Hey, you helped me pawn your “phone” thing off to some unicorn at an absolute premium! I even got you some proper clothes as a thank-you!” The younger griffmare wrapped her arm around and pulled you to her.

 

 

“You mean you paid me my cut?” You pushed yourself deeper into her embrace, laughing.

 

The mother smiled at the sight of her daughter embracing you, “And how did he exactly become friends with you?” Gale asked her daughter.

 

You let Twirl speak her mind about you. “For a start, he’s pretty knowledgeable of our trade for a civvie. Not only that, he’s also a pretty good shot, he beat one of the Mechanist nerds we brought along with us in a target shooting match.”

 

You smiled, remembering the scene Ocean caused in order to get you in the competition. She was quite persistent about including you, to the point where she made quite a fat bet on you winning even your first match.

 

“Really? My husband, Rapid, would like some new competition. You could ask him after lunch.” Said Gale. Her daughter interjected: “Now that I’d love to see. Two of the best sharpshooters that I know against one another… the best sharpshooters that are among the living, at least.”

 

“Sure, I’ll try and-” You were interrupted by Twirl: “Oh, and speaking of. Dad! You haven’t met Anon yet!”

 

You realized that her father entered the room wearing an apron on top of his normal indoor clothing. He laughed at the sight of his daughter with her arm wrapped around a “definitely-just-a-friend” visitor. Approaching you for a clawshake, he introduced himself: “Rapid Gust. Pleasure to have you as a guest, Anon.” As you shook his claw, you noticed him turning his eyes towards his daughter, giving her a wink before turning back to you.

 

“Anyways, lunch is ready, ladies.” He informed his family in Cilarean. He then turned to you, speaking in Equestrian, “I assume “little” Ocean invited you over. I’d gladly break bread with a *friend* of my daughter’s.”

 

The emphasis on the word “friend” made Twirl chuckle, inviting a suspicious look from her mother. “Are you and your father up to something again?” Gale asked.

 

Twirl just looked at her mother before turning her head towards you. You looked at her, asked her, “What’s going on?” until suddenly, the griffmare gave you a small peck on the cheek, right in front of mother dearest.

 

Gust stomped one of his claws against the floor, cheering and laughing. Gale gasped in the face of the sudden revelation, covering her beak with a claw, “I didn’t know you were friends like *that*!”

 

Twirl tightened her hold over you, “We sure are!” She said, though omitting the fact that the decision to make you and her “coltfriend” and “marefriend” less than an hour ago.

 

“Well…” Gale looked to her happy husband, smiling daughter and her love and let out a small sigh, “...Even if he isn’t a hippogriff, as long as he is willing to continue the family, I'm fine with it.

 

Continue the family? You looked at Twirl after hearing those words. She smiled back and ruffled your hair with a claw. “We’ll see if he’s worthy.” Said your marefriend.

 

Your train of thought has been stopped by Gust, calling everyone to the meal. As expected of a “French” equivalent culture of this strange world you’ve found yourself in, this wintertime meal in question was an onion soup. It was an acquired taste, the taste of onions was strong, but the umami-flavored contribution by the caramelized onions provided a nice balance to… just onion.

 

The red wine Gust brought out helped with the fight against the onions in your mouth. You weren’t big on wine, you couldn’t describe it using snob nomenclature, however, it was safe to say that the wine in question was one of the better wines you’ve had.

 

Of course, you, Twirl and Gust cracked jokes about a variety of things, from the hot topic of the day: (You), Twirl’s new coltfriend, to more tame topics like sharpshooting and mercenary/military life. Gust and Gale were both fascinated at your knowledge, as much as how Twirl was when she met you.

 

You took the opportunity to challenge the father to a target shooting match, a move adored (quite vocally) by Twirl and met with a smile from her mother. Gust accepted, though you had to go with him to the gun store to buy some extra ammo for the occasion.

 

To top it all off, the constant reminders from Gale to keep their voices down at the table. It seemed like Twirl got her sociability from her father, with the pair of them not having a care in the world. Knowing Twirl’s other side, you would rather not go around finding out what trait she inherited from her mother.

 

You helped with cleaning up after lunch as a way to show gratitude before going out with Gust to fetch some extra rounds for the challenge. Leaving the two Oceans alone with a deck of cards in between them, you left for the town on foot, the father opposed to flying as he wanted to ask you about the finer details of your relationship with his daughter.

 

“Well, Anon. As Twirl’s father, I’d like to know a few things. You know how it is” He asked you. Interrupting your affirmation after only hearing a single word of it: “Sure.”, he continued, “First question, what do you see in her? What attracts you to her?”

 

It was a good question, it left you thinking in silence, though Gust kept piling on suggestions. He suggested the family’s wealth? Lust, maybe? You shook your head in disgust. “None of that, sir. The way she acts, though. Bold, outspoken, yet, past that surface layer, she’s a sweetheart in her own unique way.”

 

“Really? She caught you with her tough mare personality?” He laughed, “I thought nogriff would touch her with that, at least for something long-term in mind.”

 

“Well, sir, I think it was a case of love at first sight…” You paused for intended comedic effect, “Rummaging through my pockets like she did.”

 

You got a laugh out of Gust. As he laughed, you continued: “We had fun together, first in camp for a good two weeks. Nearly became a Red Corsair mascot, though the bossmare didn’t want to pay me anything except for food and a bed, so I refused.”

 

“Go on.” Said Gust, prompting you to continue: “Her marauding didn’t win me over, as funny as it is in hindsight. What really did was the fact that she did not keep what she thought of me to herself. Direct, no hesitation, brutal honesty. At the same time, she was always there to talk with to pass the time. I found myself talking to her about the way my flightless kind wages war in the air for hours upon hours with childlike wonder on her face.”

 

“So you have self-respect, refusing that mascot “job” offer, and Twirl doesn’t have to carry the conversation with you when the topic is about her line of work. I like it. Did you part ways with her after breaking camp, or?” Gust paraphrased what you said, making mental notes, before asking.

 

“Actually, we went on a date the evening before she had to ship out to go home. Stopped by the nearest shooting range for a rematch, almost tied by one whole point in her favor that time.” You told Gust. The father asked: “You challenged her, too?”

 

“The first one was back at that camp, as a part of the big tournament the boss put together. Twirl blew me out of the water the first time around.” You replied.

 

“Very well. I have a feeling the match we will have is going to be fun.” Gust said, to which you replied with a simple “It sure will.”

 

“Anyways, we had some lunch together-” You were saying before getting interrupted, “And she paid for both of you?”

 

“Yes, why?” You said. Your answer made Gust laugh hard, “That does it. You’re married now. You might not know it, she may not know it either, but trust me when I say this: the moment she started paying for you, your clothes, your meal, you two were pronounced husband and wife.”

 

“But… why is that so?” You asked, flustered at the fact her father basically sees you as an in-law now.

 

“Me and Gale taught her to follow us in our hoofsteps. Get as much money as she can get for retirement, just like how we did.” Said Gust, “The fact that she not only gets you a gift out of common courtesy, but also pays for a bunch of other things… you caught her eyes.”

 

“What now, then? Do I just… treat her as if she were my wife?” You said, still confused and flustered in equal measure.

 

Gust chuckled again, “If you’re really in it for the long run like you say you are, yes, you should. Just keep the tough mare personality in mind.”

 

You gave the father a cheeky smile, “As if I already don’t adore her for it.” You said. Gale nodded, “I’m glad you do… just… don’t go about it too fast. I almost screwed up my chances with Gale back when I was younger and dumber. I know the fire you have in your heart…” He tapped a talon against his head, “...Never let it take over control up there.”

 

You replied with a simple “Yes, sir.” Gust paused, seemingly trying to remember what he wanted to say, even cursing his aging memory under his breath. It finally came to his mind: “How did you know where to find her after you parted ways?”

 

“She told me of this country, and this city. Come in a month, she said, and that was back in January.” You said. Gust was really out of reasons to not trust you, even with his fatherly instincts. He simply kept a smile on his face for the rest of the walk to the gun store, the same one that neighbored the patisserie from earlier. You followed him into the establishment.

 

The store wasn’t that busy, with a few mercenaries browsing the more expensive hunting rifles on the racks. You had a good look around yourself as Gust went to fetch a box or two of cartridges. Muskets, more muskets. Seriously, you could arm a regiment with the stuff lined on the walls. Looking at all these guns, you were reminded of Ocean. You really should get her one of her two gifts meant for the day after tomorrow.

 

You searched for something cool. Ocean definitely has dozens of muskets, rifles and whatnot, you thought to yourself. No, you needed something *new*. Suddenly, as if a light from the heavens was shining upon it, you saw a big brand-new revolver. It reminded you of those big Texas ranger big irons that needed a similar powder charge when compared to proper muskets.

 

Seeing this world’s equivalent of the desert eagle, you took it and as Gust was about to leave with his ammo, you stopped him.

 

“Hey, Mr. Gust. Does Ocean have one of these?” You showed him the revolver. He chuckled, “Son, your Ocean or mine?”

 

Whaaaaaaaaat? He really did stop you in your tracks with that one. He continued as you slowly snapped out of it: “I’m sure she doesn’t. Trust me, if she did buy one of those, I’d be the first griff to know.”

 

“Well, can I just… buy it? No paperwork or anything?” You asked.

 

“Nope. Just a signature.” You were left even more speechless. Gust laughed and patted you on your shoulder. First you get a tomboy hippogriff mare (not yet) wife and now you get the right to bear arms with the only limit being your wallet? You definitely died in your sleep and went to heaven.

 

“You’re going to buy this as a gift for Twirl, right?” He asked you, snapping you out of your trance.

 

“Yes, sir.” You said, which made him flick his talons against your forehead. “I’m not a sir to you anymore, just call me Gust. No “Mister Gust”, just Gust.”

 

You decided to bring out the big guns for this one. “Yes, dad.” The both of you laughed, causing every pair of eyes inside of the store to turn to you two.

 

You asked “Right, let’s buy this big iron, shall we?.” to yourself before turning towards the clerk at the counter. Gust followed behind you, saying something about acting as a translator. Approaching the griff with the revolver held by the barrel in your hand, you placed it on the counter. Before you were able to say anything, Gust already spoke out on your behalf in the local language: “This gentlecolt would like to purchase this six-shooter. A box of cartridges and primer caps for it, too, please.”

 

The clerk nodded as he turned to rummage through the big pile of cartridge boxes in search for the ones meant for your gun. He then put it all on the table before whipping out a fat book of gun models, numbers, names and addresses, tapping where you’re supposed to leave your mark with a talon before pointing to a fountain pen meant for this extremely limited amount of paperwork.

 

“6 gold for the revolver, and a half gold for the ammunition.” Gust translated the price for you. Fortunately, you came to Cilarine prepared, though now you found yourself stripped of the coin you set aside for amenities excluding a week’s stay at a mediocre hotel and enough equally mediocre chow to keep you alive though said week. You paid for your toys before finally leaving for home with Gust.

 

The walk home was brimming with conversation with the father. Mostly, he wanted you to elaborate more on “human aerial warfare”. You explained the topic to him in a much similar way to how you did to Ocean, “demonstrating” maneuvers with your hands for fighter planes as you went along the road home.

 

As you approached the chateau, the conversation between you two still went on, though the topic had changed to the similarities between this world and the one you came from. The topic centered around Valentine’s Day, in particular.

 

“You celebrate it on the 14th as well? Wait… what do you call it again?” Gust asked.

 

“Yes. I call it Valentine’s day. And you call it? You responded.

 

“It’s the Day of the Roses here, and in other Hippogriff kingdoms south of us, like Liogne.” He cleared his throat, interrupting himself, “I guess it’s my turn to give a history lesson.”

 

“Go ahead.” You said, before the old Hippogriff stallion continued: “When Equestrian explorers and merchants came over and made contact with us Hippogriffs a few centuries back, one of the things we picked up from them was their Hearts and Hooves day. We call it the Day of the Roses, or “la fête des roses”. We changed the name purely because… well… the griffs of that time liked it that way, I guess?”

 

“I suppose it’d roll off the tongue better in your language?” You added to the conversation. Gust responded with a shrug, “Or, it may be personal taste. It doesn’t matter. We both know what that day is still about, right?”

 

“Yep! Showering the love of your life with gifts!” You excitedly say, looking at the wooden case in your hands, which contained the rather heavy six-shooter along with its ammunition.

 

“You might want to hide that box until the day comes.” Said Gust. You looked at him reaching for a keyring of some sort from his coat pocket, “Here, take this. It’s the keys to the shed out back.”

 

“You want me to hide this in some shed? You asked. Gust smiled and simply said, “That’s where the tools of the trade are held.”

 

“The guns, I’m guessing?” You took the keyring. It only had three keys on it, each labeled separately. You could make out what the markings meant: one for the door, and the other two for what you assume are gun safes.

 

“The ones we didn’t have space to put on our walls in the house, yes.” He laughed. How many guns would that turn out to be? You kept that question to yourself as Gust instructed you to do the following: “Get two of those matching long hunting rifles, and take the ammo I bought. I’ll get the girls and come to you.”

 

“You got it.” You said… and off you went. At a rather quick pace, too. You did want to make a good impression on Ocean’s ma and pa after all. Words are nothing if you’re incompetent in their eyes.

 

Coming around to the back of the house, you saw a perfect target range. There was a table before a low wooden railing, and a number of wooden targets. You’d think they are a good 100 meters away from the firing line, presumably represented by the wooden railing.

 

They already had targets painted on them, consisting of the bull’s eye, an inner circle and outer circle in white. The bull’s eye itself, along with the border and the ring separating the circles into two layers were painted in black.

 

The "tool" shed was conveniently right next to the range, too. Placing the ammo boxes Gust bought on the table, you approached the shed with the keys in hand.

 

Unlocking and opening the door, you were pleased to see dozens of miscellaneous muzzle-loading smoothbore infantry muskets on racks placed all along the walls, except for the corner to your right, right after entering, as that space was occupied by the two pretty big gun safes. There were some muskets just stacked on a pile in a far corner of the shed, too. You’ve felt your soul ache for the mistreated muskets, though you had no time to do any spring cleaning.

 

You opened the safe marked with the number 2, and like what Gust said, there was a pair of absolutely beautiful flintlock hunting long rifles. You put the wooden case into the safe, stashing it among a larger, though similar-looking box. You assumed it contained a pair of dueling pistols, as there was a pouch of pistol caliber lead balls next to it.

 

Taking the two rifles, one in each hand, you left the shed. As you leaned the rifles against the table, you saw the family all come in from above. You idly watched the hippogriffs land, prepared to give the keys back to the father.

 

“Hey, Anon! Need any help?” The father asked.

 

"Only if you'd like to lock the safes and doors behind me?" You answered, offering him the keys. He quickly took them and did just that. As he did that, you opened the box to see neatly packed paper cartridges. Pouring them out of the box onto the table, you begin loading one of the rifles.

 

As you were about to finish loading the first rifle, you wondered what was taking Gust so long. Grabbing the second rifle to load it, he came up to you, whispering: "I tried to stow your gift for Twirl a bit better." You thanked him as he took the loaded rifle that was leaning against the table. Instinctively, you warned him that the gun he took was loaded.

 

You noticed Twirl smiling, most definitely admiring you loading the rifles.

 

Gale cleared her throat and established the point system and rules. 10 for bullseye, 5 for inner, 3 for the outer. Hits on the ring separating the inner and outer layer count as a hit on the inner, as do hits on the outer border of the target count as outer hits. 10 shots each, higher points wins. Standard stuff, really.

 

The younger Ocean giddily watched as you two loaded your rifles. Meanwhile, the older Ocean waited for the shooting to start with a spyglass in her claw.

 

"Challenger first?" Gust asked his wife, "Yes. Anon, when you're ready!" She replied.

 

You just finished returning the ramrod back under the barrel. Taking aim at the target in front of you, you try and get a feel for the gun. It was quite front heavy compared to the muskets and rifles you've used with Ocean before.

 

You sounded off with a “Ready!” before pulling back the hammer. Ready to fire, you put the front sight post right on the bullseye, before nestling said front sight post neatly in the rear sight’s notch.

 

Emptying your lungs and bracing your mind for the loud noise, you pulled the trigger, and… BANG! Gale called out where you struck: “Inner circle, 6 ‘o clock” You figured that you’d need to aim a bit higher to strike that bullseye. Nonetheless, 5 points for you.

 

As you loaded, you heard Gust pull the hammer back on his rifle and, after a brief pause, a bang. “Ring between inner and outer circle, ‘11 ‘o clock” 5 points for him, though either the old retiree merc’s skills rusted, or his gun is worn out.

 

It was your turn again, and by aiming a tad higher, you’ve scored yourself a bullseye. Twirl cheered the both of you on throughout the match. For you, keep it up and for her father to catch up to you.

 

Some time passed, and you were on your last shot. You had 2 bulls, and 5 inners. Additionally, you also had a hit on the inner border which counted as an inner ring hit, and a hit on the outer ring. That ought to be 53 points. You were in the lead, as Gale had 51 points in total.

 

The tension was palpable. If you nail the bullseye, you’d win by default. The barrels were dirtied by powder residue, however. You’d need to be lucky to get it… and you didn’t. 57 points for Anon. Observing Gust as he made his last shot, you noticed him turning his eyes to you. You saw him slightly lift his barrel before firing. He overshot the whole target, the bullet grazing the very top of the target post. “Miss! No points!” Gust exclaimed, putting her spyglass on the table to give you both a round of applause.

 

Twirl had a different idea of congratulating you. As you turned to the small audience to lean the rifle against the table, the younger Ocean had damn-near jumped in front of you. She reared, spread her wings, and put her claw on the hand you held the rifle in. She put her other claw on your shoulder while taking the rifle away from you, using the rifle with its stock on the ground as a support as she slid the claw she claw she had on your shoulder around to the back of your head.

 

You read her like a book, and took matters into your own hands by getting on your tippy-toes and whispering in her ear: “This again?"

 

“Oh, you don’t want a kiss?” She asked, an evil grin starting to form on her beaked face. Before you got a chance to explain yourself, she gave you a surprise in the form of a push and headbutt. Your ass fell to the ground, but the “attacking” griffmare did not stop there. She returned to standing on all fours, stood over you, and with her free claw fastened one of your wrists to the ground, looking at you square in the eyes.

 

“Twirl, you *do* have a room, you know...” Said Gale, walking over to her daughter.

 

“True…” Twirl replied, “...What do you say, Nonny?” She gave your nose a boop.

 

You erred, not knowing how else to respond: “Sure?”. That was the only thing Twirl needed to hear before scooping you up and taking to the sky, letting the rifle she had used as a crutch hit the ground, provoking the ire of her father. You understood her father’s lament, you'd also get ticked off by one of your better rifles hitting the dirt unceremoniously. “Sorry, pa!” She yelled out as she made her way to her room via the window.

 

She set you down on the bed… again. You chuckled and decided to poke her again… “This again, too? Seriously-” …and she’s now on top of you.

 

“How’s that for something new?” She giggled. Deliberately choosing to not hold you down to the bed, she bowed her head down to offer her beak for you to kiss. You gave her a smooch before she lifted her head back up and signaled you to scoot over with a claw gesture. Rolling over to your right, Ocean laid down right next to you, wrapping her arms around you.

 

Ocean held you tight as the two of you enjoyed each other’s company. “Y’know, Anon…” She started a conversation, “...While you were out with my dad, my mother sat me down and gave me a good talking-to about you.”

 

She started playing with your hair, twirling a bit of it around with one of your talons before letting go of it, only to start the same process over again. The griffmare continued: “I told her everything I liked about you…” she paused to chuckle, “...I would've told her everything I *didn't* like about you, though I couldn't come up with anything.”

 

You murmured to her to go on, and she obliged. “She said we're compatible. Just like her and pa… and I agree with her.”

 

“Wait, how so?” You asked in response.

 

“Remember the way we hung out during our time back in Avtukia? We were inseparable. Sure, we started off on the wrong hoof with my cousin needing to protect your pockets from me, but when I got to know you, Nonny, you were like one of us back there.”

 

You chuckled, “Almost makes me wish to relive those few weeks all over again. You and your comrades are good company.”

 

“Damn right. It was more of a party than a job.” She replied.

 

The conversation halted as you enjoyed the warm embrace you've found yourself in.

 

“Anyways, Anon… I think we should try being a couple. Seriously.”...and here it is! You officially now have a tomboy hippogriff mercenary marefriend. A crucial detail is still yet to be answered, however.

 

“What about your job? We won't be able to stay together unless I join up with you… and I doubt I'm qualified.” You pondered out loud.

 

“Well, you're already qualified to be a sharpshooter, that's for sure. When it comes to fitness…” She paused, it was obvious that she had something wacky on her mind. A cruel training regimen that'd just fuck your shit up until she deems you sufficient both sounds appealing and horrifying at the same time.

 

You did voice that concern, though you only traded said concern with confusion as she answered: “Both of us will enjoy what I have in mind, Nonny~...”

 

“What was that tone, Ocean?” You asked, turning your head around as far as it can go towards the mare behind you.

 

“Oh, you know already. I love screaming at no-good slackers that haven’t lifted anything heavier than a feather in their lives.” Said the griffmare, raising her voice and shaking you back and forth as she said her piece. You chose to ignore the suspicious part, that was not directly mentioning what was in it for you.

 

“Riiight…” Your head fell back to its original position, steering the conversation away from the prospects of being the main focus of an 80s movie training montage, you said: “I could fall asleep like this… which reminds me, I still have to check in a hotel or whatever there is here…”

 

“Tsk, tsk, Nonnie…” She held you tighter, “We’re already sharing the same bed.”

 

Ocean continued, “And before you ask, I’ve been crammed in a ship sleeping in between two of the most insufferable hippogriffs for a week straight before returning home…”

 

The back-and-forth conversation continued for a while, you and Ocean enjoying the roles of little spoon and big spoon respectively throughout. The hour-long streak was broken by knocks on the door with Gust’s voice asking to be let in. With your marefriend’s approval, her father opened the door and entered the room.

 

His proverbial jaw hit the floor at the sight before his eyes. Closing the door behind him, he reared and stood above the bed, looking down on you and Ocean. “Had fun, there?”

 

He continued, looking around the room in a comedic manner, "The room does not need a renovation, so…”

 

“You’re never going to let me live down the last time, aren’t you?” Ocean chuckled. Gust noticed your expression change: if “wait, what?” was a facial expression, it would be the exact face you were making then.

 

“I’m out of the loop? Gust?” You turned your head to him, only to be met with a shaking head. “Some things are best kept quiet, Anon…”

 

“Well, don’t let me disturb you.” The father excused himself, leaving you two alone.

 

“I’m scared.” You broke the silence, chuckling. Ocean laughed with you, reaching around to boop you on the nose. “You should be.”

 

You spent some more time in bed with the hippogriff, until she got bored of just laying around. Ocean rummaged around in her room and found her chest of games. There were card decks galore, “spares” she said, but there were at *least* a hundred in that box. Under the layer of card decks, there was a smaller wooden box which contained the game she’d wanted to play.

 

She put the box on the floor and sat down. When she started taking wooden blocks out of said box and putting together a tower of them, you put two and two together.

 

“Is that… jenga?” You asked.

 

She turned to you, “How do you know? This game isn’t even found on this continent!”

 

You sat right across from her and started helping. “My world had this game, and it was popular where I’m from. Funny how the name is the same.”

 

“Well, this game is only found in the zebra kingdoms to our south. I was told by the merchant that the name meant “to build” in their language.” Ocean replied, appreciating the help, and the fact that she won’t have to explain the rules.

 

“Wait, how do zebras even play this game with hooves? The point of this game is being good with your fingers, as far as I know.” You asked.

 

“Zebras use two sticks, see?” She showed you the two chopstick-like wooden sticks. “I gave up on playing the zebra way, after some point I’d given up on these and used my talons instead.”

 

“So you’re playing the human way, now.” You said, as you held the last block in your hand. You put it in its place and the game can now begin.

 

After a few rounds, you packed up and decided to call it. You went down with Ocean to have a bite for dinner, then went out to spend the late afternoon out on the range once again, ending the day back in Ocean’s room, cuddling with her and snoozing into the next day.