11

Bitter

The snow did not let up for Gilda and the griffons. When they had finally retreated into their rooms, Greta stayed up and watched as white drifts appeared at the bunker's open door well into the night. The next morning, there was a foot or so of fresh powder outside and half as much immediately inside. The refugees became concerned, some angry, most others scared. Greta tried her best to calm them down, but few were comforted. She assured them the weather would warm up again and also reminded them of the fresh and plentiful supplies they had received from Griffonstone.

The next day, the clouds parted, and the sun shone brightly. All of the snow began to melt, both outside and in, and the large room with the main door quickly had frigid water flooding the floor. Despite this, the griffons regained their optimism. After a few days, tufts of grass were showing again. Greta asked for more scavenging volunteers, and they had a bit of luck. Though the rabbits and other small game had mostly hidden themselves away, there was plenty of fish in the cold brooks. After searching a fair distance away, one group came back with plentiful dry wood.

However, the weather once again turned dismal. The clouds rolled in before noon the following day, and by nightfall a new sheet of snow coated the wide valley. This time, it stayed, and every few days, the griffons would awake to find the snow higher than the previous night. The food had to be rationed early on. Fires were limited, so comfort in them and in warm food was sparse. The rooms inside were soon cold at night, even with the extra blankets brought from Griffonstone. Scavenging groups were still being sent out, but they came back with less and less each time. Resentment slowly shifted from the pegasi and their poor weather upkeep to Greta. Only Gabby somehow managed to stay optimistic.

A little over a month after they had first arrived at the bunker, the snow finally seemed to stop. The oppressive clouds above one day vanished, and the sun once more shone. Much to the griffons' dismay, the cold air didn't leave with the clouds, and they were left with two choices, one hardly better than the other: stay inside the bunker, where it was dark and cold but snow-free; or venture outside, where it was bright but wet and even more frigid.

Gilda awoke, finding herself wrapped up in two blankets. It was rather warm, and she thanked her sleeping self for being ever so polite. Her head was cold, so she tried to burrow in as much as she could. She managed to get all but her beak in, and she reveled in the warmth. With the room always dark, she thought she could perhaps just stay in her pocket of heat the rest of the day. There certainly wasn't anything else to do. She sighed, the good feeling gone. What was the point of waking up and doing anything anymore? She wished she could stay in bed until the snow all melted and the war was over, but her stomach had different plans.

She fought against the pangs for a good half hour, debating with herself why she didn't need food that very instant. But, after one particularly loud and painful grumble, she relented. With a groan, she poked her head out and instantly regretted it, cursing her stomach. She popped one claw out, then another, already starting to shiver. She wormed her way out, trying to keep a mental note of how she should arrange the blankets when she got back. She squinted in the dark at Greta's bed, expecting to find her asleep. Seeing it empty, Gilda shrugged and put on a scarf and cap.

She walked out to the hallway and briefly peered outside. The snow was still laying claim to the bunker floor near the door, and the snow outside was blindingly white. She shivered, missing her warm pocket of blankets. After going to the empty cafeteria and getting a small piece of jerky to sate her hunger somewhat, the taste of which she had come to resent, she wandered around the bunker. Wondering if she should just go back to bed, she looked more closely outside. She saw in the distance a nice fire surrounded by a few griffons. Gilda thought fate had to be sadistic. Why would the warmest thing for miles be out in the freezing cold?

"I... h-hate... snow."

Gilda was welcomed to snow high enough to graze her stomach. Too tired to fly, she trudged through the drifts, her sights set on the fire. She was mildly surprised to find the ground around it relatively snow-free. There were a handful of other griffons huddled around the fire. They noticed her coming and shuffled to make a small hole for her. She stood next to it and sighed. It was so warm. She could feel pins and needles on her face and claws. She sat down and spread her wings a little, trying to soak up as much warmth as she could. She watched the pile of wood within slowly turn black and crumble. Once in a while, it'd pop, sending a little puff of embers spiraling into the air.

"Hi," a voice from behind her said. Gilda looked and saw Greta walking over to her. Gilda flinched, a scene from her nightmare flashing in her mind, but she tried passing it off as a bad shiver and faked a smile.

"H-hey, Greta." Greta sat next to her, and Gilda cleared her throat. "S-so, how're you doing?"

"I'm alright, I guess. Could do without the snow. But, hey, at least it makes the fire seem warmer, right?"

"S-sure," Gilda said. She watched as a group of griffons packed bags with supplies. She heard them talking for a while, and then they all flew off. South west, she thought. She then looked through the open bunker door and around the camp. Why did it have to snow? Everything was going great before. When the supplies came, everyone was happy for the first time since before the war had begun. They had an optimistic outlook then, and everyone was confident they would be okay away from civilization and war.

Now Gilda only saw downtrodden, crestfallen griffons. If they weren't out scavenging, they weren't doing much of anything. They barely talked with one another. At least half were sick, coughing violently, even with as many layers as they had on, even when they stayed in their rooms away from the snow. Gilda remembered there being a few more griffons at the beginning, especially of the older and younger ones. She stared back into the fire. How long would this last? How long would they last? How long would she last? Her thoughts began spiraling downwards, and she looked at Greta. She had to say something to her, to talk to her.

"W-where are we?" Gilda said, breaking the silence. Greta looked up, a bit confused. "Why are we here?" Gilda continued. "What the hell is going on?"

Greta squinted and tilted her head slightly. "What?"

Gilda shook her head. "N-no, I'm being s-serious, Greta. W-what are we d-doing here? Why are we here? Every d-day, we wake up here in th-this d-damn bunker."

Greta put a claw on Gilda's shoulder. "Gilda—"

"Every day, we s-send griffons out to get s-some food o-or to get supplies a-and there are some who d-don't come back. The r-rest of us, w-we don't do anything. We c-can't help. I feel useless. I-I feel like I'm spinning around, like I'm sinking a-and don't know what to do."

"Gilda, calm d—"

"I k-keep thinking to myself, "Th-this can't be happening, none of this can be real," but I wake up. I'm still h-here, s-still cold, still trying t-to figure out what I'm d-doing here, still wondering if anything we do is worth d-d-dying over, every day, every d-damn day, playing hide and seek with th-those maniacs, still hoping that somehow it'll all b-be over soon, but knowing th-that it won't, that it c-can't." Gilda started to breath heavily. "I can't d-do this anymore, Greta... I can't do this... I c-can't... I can't..." Tugging at the feathers on her head, she looked down at the snow.

"Gilda, I know how you feel. We all do. We're all trying our—"

"No!" Gilda whipped around, knocking Greta's claw off her shoulder. She looked at Greta straight in the face. "Shut up! You d-don't know a thing! You d-don't care a bit!"

"Wha—? How could you say that?"

"Th-this is the first time you've t-talked to me in the p-past two weeks! You didn't say anything when Gruff d-d-died!" Gilda buried her face in her claws, suppressing tears. "Gabby wouldn't u-understand what I talk about—you're the only one! B-but you're off doing who-knows-what, a-and I'm all alone!"

Greta gingerly put her claw on Gilda's shoulder again. "Gilda, I'm sorry that I haven't been there for you recently. I wish I could spend more time with you, I really do, but..." she looked across the bunker and camp, "right now, I have to look out for everyone."

"There's that too," Gilda said. "I don't think... I..." She glanced at Greta for a moment. "I have a feeling you don't know what you're doing."

"Wh..." Greta retracted her claw. "What're you saying?"

Gilda stuttered for a moment, gesturing around herself. "This. All this. The bunker the snow, the mountains... h-how is any of this good? A-and before, before we came here, I h-had this nightmare where you were j-just leading us all to nowhere, b-but you weren't talking to me, and griffons kept d-d-disappearing, but you didn't c-care. At the end it was j-just me, and you... you t-turned into a monster and killed me."

Greta looked down at her claws. "Do..." she said, "do you really think I'm not...?"

"I don't know!" Gilda threw up her claws. "You're s-sending griffons to die for, what, some r-rotten meat, o-or a stupid coat? We're getting nowhere! B-blood and tears are being shed so we can live for a day at a time! I wouldn't call that good leadership."

"Gilda, I'm trying my best here. I—"

"I don't believe you. We could just f-fly to Equestria and be safe there, but you decided we should stay in this hell-hole and die to the c-c-cold."

Greta sighed sadly. "Gilda, it's too dangerous to go there, and not just because it's so far away. I think they'd kill us."

"Why? What makes you say that? We aren't soldiers. We're all the normal ones. Why would they kill us?"

"They'd be scared of us, of griffons. Why would they want more of us?"

Gilda kicked at the snow. "That doesn't mean they'd kill us!"

"But why risk it? Why go through all that trouble if we might die?"

"It's better than staying here!" Gilda sighed. "It's worth a shot. It has to be than hiding, better than barely surviving."

"I think all we can do right now i-is just survive."

"But it's not t-too late to go to Equestria."

"Gilda—"

"Would you just—?!" Gilda curled a claw into a fist and hit the ground. "Listen to me! Just listen!"

"No! Just stop it!" She grabbed Gilda's shoulder and roughly spun her around. "Look! Look at everyone! We're all cold a-and sick! You really expect us to fly over an ocean right now?"

Gilda hit Greta's claw away. "Only because of you! We're all dying because of you! N-none of us would be in this mess if you had just listened to me!"

Tears streamed down Greta's cheeks. "Then why don't you leave?"

"I—" Gilda stopped, her voice quieting. "What?"

"You heard me!" Greta poked Gilda's chest. "If you're s-so eager to go to Equestria, why haven't you?" She shoved Gilda backwards into the snow. "Huh? Why don't you just leave?!"

Gilda got up, shivering and shaking the snow off herself. "Because I-I care about you, you idiot! I care about everyone here, n-not just me!"

Greta scoffed and turned to fly away. "Whatever. I-I'm done talking with you about this."

"Greta!" Gilda called. Greta didn't look back. She flew over to the other fire and started talking to the griffons there. Gilda, so furious she was stammering curses, picked up a pile of snow and threw it at the fire. It sizzled and sent up a fresh plume of smoke. "Idiot!"

In the distance, she heard a faint whistle. She looked behind herself to see the group of scavengers Greta had sent out a few minutes before returning. Gilda noticed they brought nothing with them and turned back to the fire, scowling. "We're all gonna die here," she muttered, "all because she wants to save face." Her heart dropped at what she herself had said, and she shook her head to calm herself. "We're gonna be okay," she whispered to herself, closing her eyes, "we're gonna be okay, we're gonna be fine..."

Another shrill whistle pierced through the morning air. Gilda looked around and saw Greta flying about ten feet in the air, trying to position herself to look at as many griffons as possible.

"Attention, everyone, attention!" she called out. "I've been informed that a huge blizzard on its way! We need to head back inside, now!"

Several griffons' voices rang out. Gilda looked up, utterly bewildered. She thought the sun was still shining, but it and the sky once more were quickly being hidden by a thick grey blanket. Gilda looked at the fire; it must have fooled her.

"We need to go now," Greta continued, "or else we'll get stuck out here! Let's go!"

Gilda yelled. "Are you kidding me?!"

"We have no choice! We can't stay!" The wind was already starting to pick up, and the fires shuddered. "Move it!" Greta flew swiftly inside, and the griffons quickly followed. Gilda groaned, tried to absorb a little more heat from the fire, and abandoned it, flying through the doorway.

It was dark again inside. Lanterns were quickly lit and hung on nails on the walls, but they didn't do much. The door was still open, and now snow started to mix with the wind. The last of the griffons made it back inside, and Greta quickly scanned over them all.

"Is everyone here?!" she yelled over the howling wind and chattering. "Start a headcount!"

"Already counted them!" Gabby reported, panting. "Everyone's... everyone's here."

"Good," Greta said. "Thanks, Gabby. I don't want anyone lost out there."

After hearing Gabby's affirmation, most everyone quickly shuffled back to their rooms, shaking excess snow off of their feathers and fur and tending to their families. The interior of the bunker was now being assaulted by near-horizontal snow. The drifts at the opening of the door had grown considerably already, and more snow added to the already covered floor.

"We have to shut the door!" Greta yelled.

"If it even moves!" said Gilda.

Greta flew back outside to the huge door. "Come on!" Gilda flew over, and they both started pushing and pulling the door loose from its rust. It lurched, and the two were joined by Gabby in closing the door. The deep snow and strong wind put up a fight. Gabby soon went in front of the door, hastily shoveling snow away with her wings. Finally, with a loud, shuddery creak, it clanged shut, and the outside was silenced.

"Is that enough?" Gabby asked.

"It's gotta be," Gilda said. "That door must weigh like—" The weather interrupted her as wind pulled the door back open slightly. "... not enough," Gilda finished. "Damn it."

"Lock it!" Greta said. "Get it shut again and lock it!" The three again pulled the door shut, and Greta and Gabby grabbed ahold of the rusty crank. With some effort, the two slowly turned it around until it didn't budge any more.

Gabby laughed between pants, shaking the snow off of herself. "That was harder to... to shut than I thought it would be." She looked between Greta and Gilda expectantly but was confused at their weary expressions. "You two alright?"

"Gabby," said Gilda coldly, "sorry, but it's not your problem."

Gabby frowned. "When it's between my friends, it is my problem." Gilda groaned and rolled her eyes.

"Gilda?" said Greta, walking to her cautiously.

"What?" snapped Gilda.

Greta stopped, scratching her front leg. "I'm sorry." Gilda only squinted at her, impelling Greta to continue. She sighed. "I'm sorry about what I said a little bit ago. I-I'm what happened to Gruff. I'm sorry it seemed like I was ignoring you—"

"You were."

Greta nodded slightly, her voice getting quieter. "You're right. I was." She scratched the ground idly with a claw. "I'm sorry I for..." She shook her head. "I'm sorry I forgot about you. You're my friend." She paused, but when Gilda said nothing, she continued. "I know you want us to go to Equestria—and please, please believe me, I do too, I really do—but we can't, we just can't now."

"I know."

Tears began welling up in Greta's eyes, and she shrugged, choking up slightly. "I-I don't know what else to say."

"You've said enough."

Greta nodded again, sniffing. "Okay." She looked down and sighed. "So, uh, are..." She gestured between herself and Gilda. "Are we good?"

Gilda closed her eyes and furrowed her brows. She took a deep breath and looked at Greta again. "I'll think about it."

"Gilda!" scolded Gabby. Greta's small and hopeful smile faded away with a tremble. Gabby walked up to Gilda, pointing a talon at her. "What's you're problem?"

"No!"

The three flinched, looking down one dimly-lit hallway. One of the doors was open, and they heard a woman sobbing from inside. Greta, slowly and shakily exhaling, shook her head and flew over. She hesitated at the door, braced herself, and walked in. Gilda and Gabby followed, but they stayed just shy of the door, peeking in slightly.

Before Greta could speak, she gasped softly. An elderly griffon, under only one tattered blanket, lay in the bed. He faced the griffon who was crying, her face now buried in her claws. There were two kids, whom Gilda assumed were the crying griffon's children. The younger of the two sat next to his mother, looking at the elderly griffon. The older one sat alone in the corner, looking down at the floor. Only after Gilda looked at the griffon lying in bed a second time did she realize he wasn't breathing.

Greta stood motionless, staring at the sad scene. The child at the bed noticed Greta and shook his mother's shoulder, saying something to her. She looked up, wiping away tears and sniffing. But, when she recognized Greta, her entire countenance changed in an instant into one of loathing. She abruptly stood, startling everyone, and she took a step towards Greta.

She spoke as though trying to bridle her rage. "Get the hell out of my room."

"I-I'm so sorry—" started Greta, who had a claw up and was walking backwards.

"Sorry?!" the griffon yelled. "You're sorry?! That's great! Tell that to my father!" She pointed at him. "Tell that to their grandpa!" She pointed to one of her kids. "He's the one who needs to hear it! It's your fault he's dead!"

"M-my—?"

"Shut up!" She shoved Greta up against a table, disturbing the lantern on top, and she pointed right in her face. "It was your damn idea to come here, your damn idea not to go to Equestria or somewhere civilized! At least there my father wouldn't have starved and froze to death! You didn't even bother to shut the damn door! What kinda sick-minded griffon doesn't shut the door to a blizzard?!"

"But we just closed it!"

"Now you close it?!" Before Greta could answer, the griffon with a cry shoved Greta outside, making her tumble and hit the hallway's wall. "Get out! Get out! Never speak to me again!" She slammed the door, and Gilda could hear her sobbing harder than before.

Greta was slumped against the wall, still staring at the door with glistening eyes. She closed her eyes, curled one claw into a fist, and hit the ground next to her. She herself started to cry, though hers was mostly silent. As she went to stand up, Gabby stepped forward, offering a claw.

"Are you okay?" Gabby asked quietly. Greta brushed her claw away and walked past the two of them, murmuring to herself. Gabby looked to Gilda for a moment before going after Greta.

"Gabby," said Gilda, "wait."

Gabby stopped and glanced back at Gilda. "What?"

Gilda sighed. "Let... let me talk to her. Alright?"

Gabby looked to object but then nodded, half-smiling. She went her own way, and Gilda walked over to her and Greta's room. The lantern inside was put out, but, by the light of the hallway, Gilda saw Greta lying in bed, facing away from her. She opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself. She wasn't sure if Greta was actually trying to sleep or not, but she took the cue Greta didn't want to talk anymore. Not knowing what else to do, Gilda shut the door softly and left to find Gabby.