8

Refuge

"It'll be okay, everyone."

Everyone was high above the earth, flying somewhere. Gilda was following Greta, who led the group. The crowd behind her was busy talking, but she couldn't make out anything in particular. Below them were clouds, almost like craggy mountain tops, stretching all the way to the horizons, and above was an impeccable shell of azure. The group never ascended or descended. They kept going forward, following Greta.

"Hey, Greta," Gilda called ahead, "where are we going, exactly?" Greta didn't seem to hear, so Gilda cupped her claws around her beak. "Hey! Greta!" She didn't respond. "Hello?" Nothing. Growing frustrated, Gilda picked up speed to catch up.

"Hey!" She stopped in front of Greta, crossing her front legs. "What's up? Where are we going?" Greta didn't even blink. She kept flying past Gilda, who was now seething. "Say something, damn it!" Accepting Greta wouldn't respond, Gilda sighed and resumed following her.

In an attempt to calm herself down, and to get her mind off of Greta ignoring her again, she thought of where they could be heading. She looked down again, wondering if she missed some landmark or mountain among the clouds. Seeing nothing, she wanted to dip down below the layer to take a peek. Before she descended, however, she had the thought she might lose sight of the group. She debated a bit with herself, then decided to stay, fear winning over curiosity.

She tried to think of the last things they did before they left for this 'journey' of theirs. To her knowledge, they had been at the station seemingly hours before, and she couldn't remember how exactly they had ended up several miles high. She scanned the sky again, wondering where the sun was. She saw nothing—no sun, moon, stars, clouds, birds—nothing but the giant empty sky.

Gilda noticed the group chattering had tapered off a bit. Looking behind her now, she could have sworn there were more of them. She looked back at Greta again. Flying up to her, she looked at her face. Greta didn't seem to notice. There wasn't an expression to be read.

"Greta?" Gilda shyly got closer. "Are you okay?"

"Just a bit further, everyone," Greta called back behind her. "We'll be there soon."

"Where?!" Gilda yelled, exasperated. "Why aren't you taking to me?!" She looked back at the crowd, now even smaller than before. Frantic now, she flew from griffon to griffon, trying to talk to them. None acknowledged her, all wearing the same expressionless face. Gilda, in desperation, started diving towards the distant cloud layer. If only she could get her bearings, she could know where—

"Gilda?"

She stopped. Looking above her, the crowd had vanished. The sky now grew to a faint purple, and Greta was slowly gliding downwards towards her. A cold, dark feeling filled her chest.

"Gilda," Greta asked again. "Where are you going?"

"Uh..." Gilda said nervously, Greta stopping a few feet in front of her. "Where did everyone go?"

"Whatever do you mean?" Greta remained expressionless.

"Wasn't there—? No!" Gilda pointed up. "There was a crowd of griffons there like ten seconds ago! Where the hell are they? What's going on?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're talking about." Greta held out a claw to Gilda. "Follow me."

Gilda backed up slowly. "Well, tell me where we're going then."

"Follow me," she said insistently, flying closer to Gilda.

"Hey, b-back off!" Gilda turned and dove downwards again. She didn't know what was going on, but she needed to know where she was.

"No."

Gilda's heart skipped a beat, and her head twinged. Gale? Gilda didn't want to, but she turned and looked behind her. Whatever was following her wasn't a griffon. A dark smoke began hurdling downwards, closing very quickly the gap which separated them. Gilda threw herself downwards. The sky darkened to black as if night had fallen, but she didn't need to see now. She grew closer to the clouds and braced herself to plunge through them. They were as solid rock, and she crumpled onto them. She looked to see if the smoke still followed. Barely making it out in the pitch darkness, it was still in pursuit.

"Gilda."

Feathers on end, she bolted, skimming above the clouds. The smoke was getting closer, the sky darker. Gilda could no longer see anything. She felt something get ahold of her tail, then her back legs, then her wings. She wrestled with the smoke, futilely clawing at it and twisting herself around.

"Help!" she cried. "Anyone, help me! Someone, please!"

"Gilda?" Greta spoke normally now, her face emerging from the smoke.

"Greta!" Her front legs were now swallowed by the smoke. "Stop this, please!"

"And ruin the fun?" The face laughed and contorted itself into a giant mouth, engulfing Gilda in complete blackness.

Gilda yelped as she woke, her claws shooting out from underneath her and grabbing grass and dirt. She let out a shaky breath, which rose silently in the morning air. "The hell?" she muttered. She shook her head, pulled her claws underneath herself, and shivered. She could hear other griffons talking to each other and moving around.

Groaning and stretching, she got up and looked around. The sun had barely peeked above the mountains, and the fire had completely died out, leaving behind a mess of blackened wood. The rest of the griffons were congregating around something. Yawning, Gilda flew over to the group. Greta was at the front, seemingly counting the griffons before her. Her eyes darted to Gilda, and Greta quickly looked away. Scowling, Gilda landed in the back of the group, trying to keep to herself.

"Hiya, Gilda!" Gilda jumped and spun around. Gabby, claw recoiling, stepped back. "Oh, sorry! Didn't mean to scare you!" Before Gilda could say anything, the crowd hushed, and Greta spoke.

"Good morning, everyone. Uh... Hope you all slept well!" No one said anything. Greta cleared her throat and laughed nervously. "U-um, so, what we're going to do is start heading to the mountains—"

"Alright," one griffon said from the front, "and then what? Where are we gonna find food? Or water? Where are we gonna stay?"

Greta appeared to take the questions in stride. "I've read about these mountains. There are caves and mines all over the peaks. That's where we'll be staying. We just have to find them."

"And food?" another repeated.

"It's springtime," said Greta, "turning to summer. It's not like it's perpetually winter in the mountains. There's gonna be fish in the river runoff there, and some small game coming out from hibernation. There should be some vegetation there, if I remember right. It won't be great, I'll admit it, but it's away from the Pride and, most of all, safe." The group mumbled to itself, and Greta seemed to be confident in her answers.

"When do we leave?" Gabby asked. Gilda groaned.

"Uh..." Greta scratched her head and looked to the crowd. "Well? Are we ready to go?"

"As I'll ever be," Gilda muttered, but her comment was drowned out by the general assent of everyone else.

"Alright then," said Greta happily. "Let's go."

Greta leapt into the air and began to fly, and one by one, everyone else followed suit. Greta squinted against the sunlight at the mountaintops, eventually settling on one of the shorter peaks, and aimed herself at it. The ground started slipping away underneath them, and low-hanging clouds replaced it. They reminded Gilda of her nightmare, and she shuddered in spite of herself. The air, already chilly because of the early hour, started to become frigid. The sun warmed their faces somewhat, but the wind whisked the comfort away.

Gilda's stomach twisted and growled, and she realized she had not eaten since the scones she and Greta ate when she had returned from Equestria. She groaned. How long was this flight going to be? And what would they eat once they arrived, if there was anything at all? With a small bit of satisfaction, Gilda realized Greta would not have eaten since then either. Maybe it would teach her not to jump into things without thinking it though.

The refugees, after weaving through some of the smaller mountain peaks and slowly acclimating, eventually found themselves inside a wide green valley. The trees and flowers were budding, and there were a few brooks filled with runoff from the mountains' peaks. It practically looked like a paradise compared to the fields they had left and the freezing mountains which surrounded them. The griffons quietly talked with one another, most trading words of optimism.

Gilda dipped below the group, scanning the ground. Gilda watched, curious as to what could possibly be down there. Greta apparently found what she was looking for, since her gaze locked onto it for a moment before she rose back up. She faced the crowd, slowing them down. "We're here. Did any of you see it?" She gestured expectantly to where the slope of the mountain eased to a flat green area. "Look down there."

Gilda rolled her eyes and scanned the ground for a small cave. She didn't see anything at first, but others around her were getting excited. Gabby, who was right next to her, gasped when she saw it, and she wordlessly pointed the spot out to Gilda. She then finally caught a glimpse of something odd among the rocks. When she looked more closely, she saw a rusty metal door slightly ajar.

Gilda drifted toward Greta at the front of the flock. "Is that... a bunker?"

"Yep!" said Greta happily. "That's where we'll be staying. From what I've read, it's got plenty of space for us all."

Gilda tried to hold back laughter. "I thought you said we would be staying in caves and mines."

"Well, the bunker was quite the productive mine back in its day, and there are a lot of natural caves connecting with those mines." She gave a half shrug. "I wasn't lying."

"What're we waiting for?!" Gabby yelled. "Let's go!" She dove, and many of the younger griffons followed, laughing and chasing one another. The group descended, still abuzz with anticipation. Gilda, though, started to feel a bit guilty. She had doubted Greta's calls in front of everyone, but she turned out to be right. Some friend she was. Perhaps Greta was right about Equestria too. Gilda looked at Greta, who was just a few feet below the rest of the crowd, still taking in the scene.

Should she say something to her? She didn't want to lose one of her only friends, especially not now. But Greta still had some explaining to do, Gilda reasoned. Why did she stand there doing nothing while Grampa Gruff died in Gilda's claws? Why did she go from simply ignoring her to actively telling her off? What happened to Greta?

Gilda frowned. She knew what happened; Gale and his stupid Pride happened. Greta, as with everyone else, was just anxious and scared out of their minds. Anyone would be standoffish. Gilda sighed. She shouldn't hold Greta to some ridiculous emotionally-stable standard. But still, she thought, Greta couldn't have said anything nice to her?

The group finally landed, with Gabby and the kids all playing around stopping to look at the door. Greta walked over to it and, with a bit of effort, pulled at it. It slowly opened with a loud and rusty creak, and the sunlight revealed a large room in the other side.

"Uh-huh," said Greta, drumming her claws on the door. "It's dark. That's gonna be an issue."

"There might be lanterns or candles inside," someone offered.

Greta snapped her claws and pointed at them. "You're right. Good thinking."

Everyone wandered inside, still chattering. Griffons spread out, going into different darkened rooms, and pretty soon, lanterns were found and lit. Gilda and Greta walked together to a small room a little further away from the outside door. Squinting, trying to get their eyes adjusted to the dark, they found a bunk bed one one side and a table in the middle. There was something on the table, and Greta grabbed it.

"Aha," she said. "A lantern." She glanced around the room, looked at Gilda, and gestured to the beds. "Wanna share this room?"

"Sure," said Gilda.

"Cool." Greta started walking past Gilda. "I'm gonna go get a flame for this."

Gilda grunted. "I'll admit it. This isn't half bad."

"Hm?" Greta stopped and glanced back, tilting her head. "I didn't catch that."

"I said this isn't half bad, the bunker and mountains and all."

"What's that?" Greta smiled. "It almost sounded like you said I was right." Gilda scoffed, and Greta laughed. "Well, I forgive you."

She returned not a minute later with a lit lantern and a grin. She set it on the table, and the two surveyed the room properly. After deciding who was sleeping where—Greta chose the bottom bunk—there was really nothing more to discuss. The room had little else to offer, so the two walked back out into the main room, where around two dozen others were socializing.

Greta sighed. "Being a leader is fun," she said sarcastically to Gilda. She flew up a few feet and over to the door. For those who didn't realize, she cleared her throat, and soon the room went silent. "Alright," she said, "thank you. Since there isn't much here, we need to look around for stuff: food, water, fuel for fire—y'know. Any volunteers?"

"Me!" proclaimed Gabby, flying up to Greta excitedly.

The crowd around Gilda grumbled. She shrugged and flew up. "Hell, there isn't anything better to do." The comment changed some of the others' minds, at which she scoffed quietly to herself.

Night rolled around, and all but one of the groups had arrived back safely. The griffons weren't terribly fortunate in their scavenging. Gilda, along with a few others, managed to bring back a few rabbits and fish, while others could find nothing but roots. There wasn't much wood for fire since most sticks and branches were soaked through by the melting snow. They all blamed the early spring weather for their rotten luck. Despite this, the griffons had plenty of water thanks to the brook; with some of buckets which had been found, one group went to it and filled them up. While everyone else was inside for the evening, Greta sat outside, anxious, shivering slightly in the nippy air.

Greta poked her head out from the bunker. "Hey," she said, making Greta jump a bit, "should we shut this big door here?"

Greta looked at it and up towards the sky. "No. It's not that cold. Everyone's doors should keep them warm."

"Alright." Gilda was about to go back inside when she noticed Greta slouch and sigh. Gilda scratched her head and hesitantly walked to her. "Still no sign of them?"

"No," said Greta. She swished her tail nervously. "Should we send a search party o-or something?"

"Nah. They're fine. If they're only lost since it's night, they'll just sleep somewhere and find their way back in the morning."

"What if the Pride got them?"

"A— uh..." Gilda drummed her claws. "Hm. Maybe they'd just let them go."

"Why?"

"They let us go before."

"Forced us to go." Gilda looked down, and Greta sighed. "This is my fault."

Gilda looked up and squinted at Greta. "What? How?"

"I told them to go."

"No," said Gilda, shaking her head, "you asked for volunteers. They left to who knows where."

"But still. I asked them. Shouldn't they be my responsibility?"

"I don't see it that way."

Greta huffed and looked down. "Alright, then." She cleared her throat. "So, uh, did anyone find anything?"

"Except a few more lanterns, not much."

"Did you find any food in that cafeteria?"

"Nope. None worth eating, anyway."

Greta sighed. "At least we have the brook."

Gilda nodded awkwardly. "Yep." Greta said nothing. "Well," said Gilda, walking back inside, "I'll see you later." Greta gave a weak wave before turning her attention back to the sky.

Gilda awoke the next day to find Greta's bed empty. After asking some of the others, she found Greta at the same spot as the previous evening. Her head was down, and she was swaying and occasionally jerking, as though she were trying to stay awake.

"Greta?" Gilda said a bit too loudly.

Greta yelped, jumping up in the air a bit. She faced Gilda, smoothing out her ruffled feathers. "Y-yes?"

"Did you stay out here all night? I didn't hear you come into the room."

"No. Well... sort of. I came in, but I couldn't sleep. I came back out here before the sun was up."

Gilda shook her head. "You need to get some sleep. They'll be here when they'll be here. You standing out here, staring out at those mountains, won't make them come back any faster."

"I know, I know."

"Come on inside," said Gilda putting a claw on her shoulder. "I'm serious about you sleeping. You were about to fall over a bit ago."

Defeated, Greta quietly said, "Okay."

Something behind Greta caught Gilda's eye. "Wait," she said, pointing to it. "Look over there—south. Just above the horizon." Set against the crisp blue sky were three odd shapes, all slightly rising and falling and growing closer.

"Those are too big to be griffons," said Greta with a touch of worry.

Gilda scoffed. "What, do you think those would be dragons?"

"Well, maybe."

"Nah. It's not. Why would they even be over here?"

"Alright. Then what are they?"

"Beats me."

The two watched as the three shapes grew closer. After a few minutes, they were finally able to make out wings and legs on each one.

Greta gasped. "You know what... those might be our griffons." Tentatively, she flew up a few feet and waved to the three figures. The one in the middle waved back, then the two did as well. Greta landed, lost for words.

"I'd say so," said Gilda. She chuckled. "That one was probably Gabby." She looked to Greta, who was wiping her cheeks. "Are you...?"

Greta sniffed. "Crying? A-a bit, yeah. I was afraid they had died."

A little while later, after a crowd had gathered outside, the three griffons landed with their carts of supplies. Everyone quickly ran cans of food, blankets, coats, soap, and every other thing inside, all talking excitedly. Gabby wore a huge smile as she watched it all. Greta walked up to her, stunned.

"How?" she asked.

Gabby grabbed a piece of jerky from a bag and handed it to her and Gilda. "Not everyone in Griffonstone thinks we're traitors."

Gilda bit into the jerky hastily, then quickly realized it was as stiff as bark. With effort, she ripped off a small piece and held it in her mouth. The salt dried out her tongue, but after a day and a half of roots and raw meat, some variety was good. She savored the jerky until it became soft, where she was finally able to eat it properly.

"You went to Griffonstone?" Greta asked incredulously.

"Yep. Thought we could try our luck." She laughed and gestured to the carts. "I guess it was a good bet. We got just about everything we need."

"Did you happen to bring any firewood?" Gilda joked.

Gabby snapped a claw and turned to her cart, looking inside. Gilda looked at Greta, completely caught off-guard, and Greta chuckled. Gabby held up a small log. "We actually did. Not much, but..." She tossed it onto the ground. "Yeah. Firewood."

"You're a legend, Gabby," said Gilda with complete seriousness.

Gabby blushed. "It was nothing."

That evening, there was somewhat of a party held inside and outside of the bunker. Two fires were built a little ways outside, a smaller one for cooking the rabbits and fish, and another, larger one for recreation. Gilda and Greta, having already eaten, sat at the larger one. The night was exceptionally chilly, but it only made the fire feel warmer.

"I could get used to this," said Greta.

Gilda nodded, yawning. "It's like camping."

"It's just, y'know, indefinite."

"If it's this nice, I dunno if I'd care."

Greta laughed. "Fair enough."

Gilda felt something cold and wet on her neck. She grabbed at it in mild irritation but felt nothing. A snowflake passed her face, and she watched as it fluttered near the fire and melted. Looking up, she saw that there was a light but steady shower of snow falling. "Snow?" she whispered to herself.

Greta stood abruptly, also looking skyward. "What? Snow? But... but that's..." She threw up a claw in frustration. "It's supposed to be spring! What the hell?!"

"It's gotta be something to do with the pegasi," Gilda said, picking up a stick and snapping it in two. "Either they're too busy with the war to handle the weather, or they're doing this sort of stuff on purpose to mess with the Pride." She tossed one stick into the fire when a certain pegasus popped into her mind: Rainbow Dash. She jolted. She hadn't thought about her at all. Was she okay? What happened to her? Is she part of the war?

Greta groaned. "Can't they aim more south?" Gilda didn't answer, still lost in thought, and Greta sighed, sitting back down. "I hope it doesn't get too bad. We're kinda banking on it being nice here."