Gerrard

The fierce eyes of the griffon pierced through the pair, their immediate intentions unknown as he looked them over, face to face. "Ah, the honor is mine Mr. Cloudkicker. I am Gerrard Grayfeather, irrigation architect from the Royal University of Canterlot. May I see your resume and credentials good sir?" he replied in a suddenly formal voice, the griffon seeming to turn on his professional mode as his keen eyes glanced down to see a white hoof extended his way. The hybrid carefully grabbed it with his black talon and firmly shook it as his gaze drifted towards back up to the bird. "And I am honored to meet you as well Sir Sparks. I don't often see many of my ilk in the desert," he added formally for the small bird as he lowered his own head to eye level with the tiny bird.

"It appears I may have... misplaced, my monocle," the griffon commented, glancing down to the ground for a moment to look at the sandy gravel beneath them. He lightly clawed at the dirty before chuckling lightly, unable to keep up his act any longer as he started laughing loudly. "Ahh, I have to admit, it is quite the chore to be a fake formal griffon. Your resume is your ability to carry gear. Ponies, even pegasus, can carry a heavy load, correct?" he commented in his usual strong voice, the hybrid looking at Colton one last time to see if he had any visible injuries. He couldn't spot one on the pony before drifting his eyes towards a blacksmith shop on the edge of the town. "You are interested in the job right? I can discuss the details in transit, but the pay is approximately 200 bits with an additional twenty percent at my discretion in the event the job has unseen complications. Is this acceptable?" he commented, reaching down into the bag around his neck to pull out a gorged bag full of bits, seemingly trying to prove he had the pay on him.

The griffon still seemed a bit suspect, but nothing specifically about him was too imposing aside from his slightly frightening appearance. He didn't have any telltale signs of nervousness, the griffon almost seeming to swell with confidence. His body language seemed relaxed, even in the hot weather. That was probably to be expected from a griffon though, their homeland a similar climate to this particular region of Equestria.

Gerrard chuckled and sneakily plucked a vine off the wall and slipped it over to his hungry caribou friend. "The vines are decorations, they don't eat decorations. I think some are fake or artificial just for show. Tell me if this is real," he commented with a light laugh, the griffon always seeming to be amused. "They aren't interested in us because they are probably too swept up in their studies and work to care about our presence. This arguably the hardest university in the country after all," he explained, the hybrid leading Snowdrift into the library.

The library was seemingly massive, walls of books towering high into the sky, easily three or more stories with a large pillar of a shelf spiraling up into the upper floors. Numerous railed ladders seemed to be attached to the shelves, almost begging clumsy ponies to climb up their dangerous forms. "Okay, where do we want to start? And just a friendly piece of advice Snow, please don't eat the books. We have farms here to grow all of our food cheaply. Nobody starves here, no matter how unfortunate they are," Gerrard explained, lightly patting his new friend. "If anyone is mean to you, just be mean back, they only respect fear," the griffon whispered into the ear of the caribou, none of the students in the large library aware of the presence yet.

The weather had been hot, but that was expected, tumble weeds practically overpopulating the somehow bustling town. Ponies seemed busy with their day, roaming about the dusty town square, seemingly unaffected by the overpowering weather. A shadowy figure was standing atop one of the buildings, just out of vision of most ponies. An irrigation flyer dangled lifelessly off one of the roofs, almost forgotten by the citizens in the fiery weather.

The flyers had been posted by one of the primary irrigation architects in Equestria, an eccentric fellow whose methods often served to alienate himself from his potential clients and employees. They advertised for strong and stout individuals capable of taking the weather and conditions in stride. It was unclear much more beyond that, but the poster was the one to determine the exact specifics.

A pair of keen yellow eyes gazed over the landscape of Appleoosa from high atop one of the many buildings that lined the frontier town. They quickly spotted their next target, a white pegasus who was holding an eerily familiar note. A smirk slowly spread across the face of the onlooker, a griffon with a black coat who had grown interested in the stranger. His dark talons roughly grabbed the rooftop before leaping from his perch, the large predator silently drifting down to the ground before landing with a light thud. "Hello stranger. I see that you took one of my flyers. Are you interested in making a bunch of bits?" a strong, if not imposing voice called out to Colton from behind. The griffon leaned forward, his long black beak uncomfortably close to the pony. His silver feathered face wore a devilish smirk, the griffon seeming a bit off, a large backpack tightly bound around his own neck.

Gerrard chuckled lightly, catching the lonely looking hippogriff off guard with a sudden hug. When the pegasus didn't refuse is offer, the hybrid smirked and came up with a plan. "Well you didn't refuse, but yeah, it does look rather uncomfortable" he announced with a laugh, leaning forward to examine her armor. "Let's see how uncomfortable it is," he commented, carefully giving her a hug, the griffon playfully lifting the heavy armored pony off her hooves for a moment before placing her back down on the ground.

"The armor seems exceptionally solid, griffon forged by a steady claw I presume? It must be enchanted to weigh as much as a cloud unless you weigh about as much as a wrench," he chuckled lightly, the griffon seeming awfully familiar with master crafted tools and equipment. I know all about lightweight things, I work with them all the time," he explained, reaching into the bag fastened around his neck before deciding against it and pulling his claw back out. His keen griffon eyes drifted over the less friendly unicorn.

Gerrard placed a talon on the side of his beak, the griffon blocking the view of his maw from the male as he thought about what to say to the pegasus in a pseudo secret manner. "Yar Yar Daze? Is he not very articulate, or am I really missing something?" he commented, glancing back to the unicorn with a smirk as he knew everyone had heard what he said. "Yar, I think I understand though. Males don't hug one another, we just like to ruffle each other's feathers, isn't that right Swifty?" he remarked, playfully messing up the base of the unicorns mane with his talon, making it slightly disheveled.

When Cydonia opened the door to the trio, Gerrard walked up to it and took a step to the side, gesturing for everyone else to go ahead. "Oh, it would be disrespectful to enter your establishment first. Please, ladies first," he remarked politely, the griffon doing a polite bow as he turned off his comedy routine, if only for a moment. "You should get something unique, perhaps a statue of some sort. Like a famous battle scene, that would draw a crowd, wouldn't it?" Gerrard commented with an upbeat manner.

As the pair walked through the gates into the courtyard of the university, Gerrard glanced at the caribou, a bit confused. "What is weird to you? The ponies, the food surrounding them that none ever seem to it. Or is it that most of them seem completely uninterested in both of us?" he commented with a laugh, gently jabbing Snowdrift in the side.

The pair slowly made their way to the library when Gerrard was asked his question. "I carry it, along with the tools of my trade. I carry many tools in this big bag," he explained, getting a nefarious smirk across his face as he thought over all the the different tricks he could pull on the caribou. "The article is proof that I graduated from this establishment. The biggest and fanciest libraries here only allow graduates and students into their libraries. The public isn't allowed here. You would have to go to a public library for information if I wasn't here. In a strange way, I have a few more rights than commoner ponies," he explained with a smile as they walked up to the entrance of an excessively extravagant and towering building. The guards nodded slightly at Gerrard as he lead Snowdrift to the door of the building.

Gerrard wore a sly smirk across his maw as the knelt down before his new knight and master. "Thank you Sir Tin!" he exclaimed in an excited manner, the griffon wrapping his powerful arms around the pony as he lifted him off the ground and swung him around lightly. He grinned before slowly releasing the pony to the ground. It was unclear what exactly Gerrard was thinking, but he decided to play along a bit more, no obligations of his own for a little while anyway.

He blinked when Tin spoke of his parents, the eager squire wrapping his arm around the neck of the pony as he pointed into the sky. "Lead the way to the weak and I will protect them with my life! What would you have me do brave sir?" he announced excitedly, the griffon idly sharpening his talons as he awaited his orders.

Gerrrard liked explaining things to his new friends, finding his ignorance a bit intriguing at times. "Well, I never built any of the farms, but I supply them the second most important resource to farming. The sun gives them light for photosynthesis, but I make sure that their crops get water. Farms require more water than is normally retrievable by pegasus, so I create and maintain the pipes that transfer water from one part of the country to another. Heck, some of them even have my maker's mark on them!" he explained with a smile, the griffon picking at the bag wrapped around his neck.

"Yeah, a few thousand ponies go here I would suppose. I never counted them, the whole not allowed to eat them thing and all," he explained with a laugh, winking at the caribou. "What do you think of all this pony scenery, a bit excessive right? Griffons tend to be a bit more utilitarian than ponies with our designs," he remarked with a laugh, playfully picking at the ivy with a black claw.

The guards on duty glanced at the pair, carefully pointing their lances at the odd pair. "Halt, who goes there!" one announced with a deep voice. Gerrard raised his brow, finding the display amusing, granted the griffon seemed to find everything amusing. "Now now, I thought you would recognize me by now, I sorta stand out a bit," he explained with a sigh, the griffon pulling out a framed diploma and presenting it to the guards. "You should be more respectful to your alumni, we donate loads of cash to the universities we graduate from. Oh, and the antler guy is my guest, thank you fellas," he practically taunted, the griffon lightly patting the cheek of a stunned guard as they opened the gates to the university. "You wanted to see the library first, right?" the griffon asked, gesturing for Snowdrift to follow after him.

"It would take more than one caribou to convince me that you were all worth eating," he retorted with a laugh, the griffon getting uncomfortably close to the caribou. "Most griffons actually have very short tempers and anger very easily with dire consequences. Lucky for you, I haven endless patience," he reassured to herbivore, his words not exactly serving him well.

He smiled as Snowdrift spoke of adventure, the griffon finding his words true, if not a bit touching. "Well, hopefully you can leave your impression on Canterlot, perhaps even Equestria. I have left my mark all over this country with my work, ponies able to farm their land thanks to my work," he explained with a smile.

"Some say that luck is a great skill to have. If you get lucky and survive a battle, will you renounce it as a skill? Of course not!" he commented, the griffon managing to part the streets as the pair could see a large gated establishment slowly coming into view. The pair could see many regal flags adorning an entrance of a mossy wall. A set of four intimidating guards stood watch over the entrance, looking the two outsiders over with critical eyes.

Gerrard smirked lightly, sensing that the colt was offended. The griffon found it laughable, the colt insulting the hybrid's honor, yet somehow feeling the one who was wronged. Regardless, Gerrard held back his laughter, maintaining a straight face as he listened to the pair of ponies squabble lightly, their lives seemingly too busy for their own good. He heard Fire Walker speak in regards to her friend and the bar, the griffon's interest piqued as he thought over the comment. "I've been to many bars, working mind you," he corrected, trying not to seem like the drunk he wasn't. "The furniture is what makes or breaks the look of your establishment. A period correct set of stools is what will best make the image of your bar," he explained, lightly resting a black talon on his equally dark beak.

As he heard Cydonia speak of hugs, the griffon grinned wider than ever. "Hugs for everyone. I'll even impart my expertise to all of you, free of charge," he announced, carefully hugged the hippogriff with his strong talons before glancing over to the ponies. "Come on, you know you want a hug. I won't even charge you," he explained in a friendly manner, his expression remaining completely jovial, even after the colt had insulted his honor.

"I understand Snowdrift, using the snow as parchment is an age old strategy. One that predators often use to track your species across the icy wastes. You should avoid absolutes whenever possible, while an oral tradition may be flawless, it is static and unwilling to adapt to a changing environment. What you also might want to consider is that an oral tradition might be biased in some way, everyone having some bias in their judgement, regardless of their intention. You were lead to believe that all griffons wanted to eat you, when clearly that was an exaggeration of the threat my species brings to you," Gerrard explained, smiling lightly for the caribou.

Gerrard lead Snowdrift through the crowded city, the university being a long walk from their current location. The gasps and gawks began to die down to a dull roar as they proceeded onward, their presence slowly being accepted as an odd but otherwise safe occurrence. "Oh man, I'm starting to sound like my friend Asteria, getting into the realm of strict reason and logic. Sometimes it is best to act illogical I suppose, it makes life more interesting. If I worked the hardest for the most money, I would meet less people and have a much more boring life. If only there were some way to maximize my efficiency in all regards, perhaps that is the secret of life, choosing what is truly most important to you in life and excelling at it," he explained calmly, griffon mention a strange friend that he seemed to idealize and hold in contempt.

Gerrard thought about the last comment from the caribou and decided to impart some oral knowledge to his new friend. "In Equestria, most of the citizens are ponies, especially in their cities. In my native country on Aquila, most of the citizens are griffons. While there no barred movement between countries, people prefer a situation that they are more familiar with. This discourages many to explore the world, fear of the unknown. Much like the fear that nearly thwarted our first encounter," he explained, trying his best to remain upbeat for Snow.

Gerrard raised his brow, not knowing many sentient creatures that couldn't read. He thought for a moment and smiled widely again, the coy griffon coming up with a simple thought. "You should learn to read and pass down that oral tradition. You could write the letters in the snow, it would be really easy," he explained with a smirk, his yellow eyes glancing across to Snowdrift as if he were eagerly seeking approval. "Nobody, well nobody normal, carries around a bunch of books. They simply retrieve one, extract it's information, then return it," Gerrard explained, spreading his large black wings again as he contorted them roughly, the hybrid lazily stretching out.

"I can take you to the library of my former university. It is for students only, but since I'm an alumni, I have the right to access it. It is arguably one of the largest vaults of knowledge on the continent," he explained with a smirk, somewhat proud to be an alumni to a pony centric university. "Just follow me snowpony," he explained with a smirk, his long black tail wagging lightly as he gestured for Snowdrift to follow after him through the crowded cities. There were countless uppity unicorns roaming the streets, gasping and gawking at the odd pair as they tried to determine where they wanted to go.

Gerrard wasn't fully versed in all the intricacies involved the magic of his species, but he knew enough to understand why they might be awkward. He laughed lightly at the comment about the library, thinking it over before deciding to speak. "You snow eaters really really don't get out much, yes the place with the books. If there is something you don't know, you can always read a book and use the experience of another to learn something new. Unless you can't read I suppose," he remarked, thinking his own statement over and finding it agreeable.

"Isn't life just strange that way. So where you want me to take you? A store, my store, the park, the library. Oh and do you want to fly over there?" Gerrard replied, standing up and leaning against his new friend as he playfully suggested that he could fly with the clearly heavy caribou. "And yeah, nice to meet Snowdrift. I think we will be great friends," he explained, a scary grin creeping back across his jet black maw.

Gerrard smirked slightly at the story, knowing that the strange young pony at least meant well. He wasn't exactly sure what the young 'knight' might do, but Gerrard figured it at least would be amusing. The griffon glanced down and noticed one his feathers had been singed by the flame, burned a darker shade of black. He carefully grabbed the feather and plucked it, wincing lightly as he slipped his feather into the container strapped around his neck.

The hybrid nearly laughed when Tin suggested that the griffon wished to be his squire, Gerrard managing to maintain his composure as he looked back at the pony. He thought for a moment, and a nefarious grin crept across his maw, the griffon getting an idea of his own. "I understand Sir Tin, it would be an honor to be your squire. I know the best way to serve you sir," he announced in an almost excited manner, the griffon walking alongside the pony as he stretched out his large and powerful black wings. I know of a perfect way to avoid a terrible fate. Why don't I simply take you under my wings and fly you across the land. We can use your combat prowess and my speed and agility to cleanse this land of evildoers!" he announced, flexing his sharp black talons as he gestured to pick up the young knight.

The griffon smirked as he listened to the pair tell their stories, finding something a bit off about them that he just couldn't put his claw on. It quickly snapped into his head and Gerrard had spotted an inconsistency in their stories, a smirk creeping across his face, a friend of his having family in a certain practice. "Objection!" he cried, pointing a talon at the pair, finding something amiss with their story. "If you have only known each other for a few months, how can you have been apart for three months. That makes no sense! One of you is lying," he explained as if he were a defense attorney. "Ahh, if only I were a lawyer, that would be fun," he mused aloud, chuckling at his own silly display.

When the angry unicorn stared him down with a fierce gaze, Gerrard went wide eyed, if only for a moment. The hybrid returned a glare of his own, his eyes naturally fierce looking. He paused and glanced down, Gerrard smirking slightly as he thought he could see the reflection of Squall off his own well polished beak. "Honor is rather subjective, I see myself as very honorable. I never steal and I pay my taxes to the government. I apologize if my light hearted jest punctured your thin skin. What would you like me to mend your injuries with? A bandage, gauze, a wooden carving, or a bit of dignity? Hmm?" he replied, the griffon not one to be intimidated, knowing all the tricks that went along with it.

Gerrard listened to the hybrid explain her origins, the griffon smirking slightly at the story as he speculated what to say"Alas, ponies are drawn to the hidden charms that all griffon have. We do give the best hugs after all, right Cyd?" Gerrard teased, playfully poking the hippogriff in the side as he glanced back to the pair. "Normally hippogriffs occur when a pony or griffon settles down in the foreign region. Not exactly a wide selection of griffons around here, only a few others and myself. I'm too busy right now for a serious relationship," he explained, his words a mixture of truth and comedy as he explained a bit further for the unsure pegasus.

Gerrard listened as Snowdrift mused about what had happened a thousand years prior. "Well I wasn't there so long ago, but I suppose it could have been night. Or someone could have remembered wrong, stories that get passed down over the years tend to... evolve and become things they are not. You could go to the library and research it, but I don't see much importance in mulling over such a small detail of an event that happened so long ago," he explained, the griffon lightly tapping his beak with his talons as he tried to figure out why the caribou was so interested in such a minor detail.

Gerrard raised his brow when the caribou asked why he wanted to help him, finding the question a bit odd. "Well, being a stranger in a crowded place full of critical ponies can be really stressful. As you might be able to tell, I wasn't raised here either, and I came here as a young adult to learn the pony art of irrigation. Everyone freaked out and thought I was a monster out to eat them, somewhat like how you acted. I figured that maybe I could be a nice griffon and help you out, maybe make your transition a bit easier. Unless you would rather it not be convenient?" he explained in a seemingly sincere voice. It was impossible to tell if the griffon actually spoke the truth, his mischievous face always seeming to be aloof and vaguely untrustworthy.

When asked his name, Gerrard blinked with surprise, realizing he hadn't even properly introduced himself to the foreigner. "Oh, how rude of me! I am Gerrard Grayfeather, graduate of the Royal University of Canterlot, at your service!" he announced in what sounded like an excited manner. "And may I ask for your name Mr. Caribou?' he replied with his usual smirk, cocking his head to the side as he spoke.

Gerrard let out a disinterested yawn, clearly losing any interest in scaring the caribou further as they stood in Canterlot. He wondered what Snowdrift tasted like, but the griffon quickly put that thought away, knowing it was inappropriate to even consider such a thing. "Alright, as long as you are willing to adapt to the customs of this land, you should be okay," he remarked in response to the caribou being respectful to the princesses.

The griffon let out a light sigh as he spoke about the incident with Nightmare Moon. "Well it depends. If it was normal, it could have been a long night, the tilt of our planet allowing the polar regions of our planet to have really long days or nights. But since you seem familiar with that cycle, I will assume you are speaking about THAT incident. Allegedly, one thousand years ago, Princess Luna became bitter when her subjects disliked the night she reigned over. Her anger overtook her and she changed into Nightmare Moon, a villainous character who tried to plunge the world in eternal darkness. Her sister banished her to the moon for one thousand years by using a set of legendary artifacts. The day it suddenly went dark was her return from her one thousand years of banishment. Uh, the artifact was wielded again and she returned to her sense and now she is normal. This is what I've been told in hearsay though. It is safe to assume that they are beings of extreme power though," he mused aloud, resting his beak on a talon as he sat patiently.

"Anything else you want to ask, me? Griffons have a lot to say if you speak to them," he playfully taunted, his dark eyes glancing across to the skeptical caribou.

The griffon patiently listened to Tin as he spoke to him in an overly formal manner. He didn't mind it though, the griffon always throwing his own pleasantries out as well. The hybrid puffed his own chest out lightly as he traced his eyes over the young colt, Gerrard making it clear that he was well aware of the physical extent of the young knight. "Ah I see, you are a freelancer. A stallion of justice and the upholder of all things right," he announced in an excited voice, pointing one of his claws into the air. "I see, your ent has been wronged by my species in the past. I can assure you that I am not the same griffon though, he couldn't breathe fire, but I can," he explained, the griffon suddenly speaking as if he thought the ent were real, the hybrid still claiming to be able to breathe fire.

"Your lack of faith in my fire manipulation abilities are disturbing. If you do not believe me, I will enlighten you. I have learned a trick or two from a will-o-wisp and now I reign over the element at my leisure! Stand back or you will be burned," he explained with a serious voice, the griffon raising a powerful black wing up to shroud his maw. A moment passed in silence as Gerrard coughed lightly, adjusting his voice for something. "Behold, Gerrard Grayfeather, master of fire and water!" he announced, a small jet of intense blue flames exiting over his wing, the source seeming to be his maw. Blue fire is rather unusual, especially in Equestria, the fire being much hotter and more concentrated than normal fire, even dragon fire. It was rather unlikely that a normal Equestrian Citizen knew that blue flame was so hot, the reference to fire and water almost misleading enough to trick someone into thinking it was a water fire of some sort.

Gerrard smirked widely at his feat, slowly retracting his wing, leaving only the a heavy brown bag strapped to his neck. "Oh, what brings me out here? I am simply an irrigation worker is looking for adventure. Perhaps we can combine our talents and challenge a worthy foe!" he nonchalantly commented, the sinister looking griffon glancing at his sharp talons. "Or perhaps there is something else you need to do Sir Tin?" he added casually, the griffon feigning a loss of interest in him.

Gerrard paused, thinking over the words about his accent. "I have been living in Equestria for six years. I was lucky enough to get into the student exchange program. Usually most exchange students actually go to the flight school in Cloudsdale, but I was an exception, my education requiring me to go to a college in Equestria, the gryphons not exactly keen on farming. In fact, some look down on me for helping you all water your cities. The griffons who know about what I do, say I water ponies for a living, not exactly a term of endearment, That's okay though, I'm not huge into fighting, and I like the peaceful life in Equestria, no need for me to battle or fight anyone," Gerrard explained, the hybrid glancing over his own body, not seeing any noticeable scars, something rare among griffons.

"Gifts from old masters always hold a great deal of sentimental value in addition to the clear physical value such a masterfully crafted item. It is also a certificate of acceptance of sorts, a sign that someone has faith enough in you to give you their finest of works simply out of the pride they had in you. Cherish it, never let it go, no matter the price," Gerrard remarked in a dramatic manner, the griffon balling his talon up and holding it close to his heart as he spoke in a sincere, but clearly exaggerated manner. After holding it for a moment, he opened his talon and returned it to it's proper place.

Upon hearing Cydonia ask what brought the pair to her shop this morning, a nefarious smirk spread across the full blooded griffon's face as he decided to stir the pot a bit. His eyes drifted over to the hippogriff as he tried his best to look sincere, the dark griffon always having a bit of a problem doing so. "Apparently they are lovers who have been separated for over three months. They were on a walk to rekindle their inner fire and ignite a long dormant romance. They came to your store, hoping to find gifts for one another that they might both mutually enjoy. In a strange sense of the notion, they want you to be their match maker, are you up to the challenge my fellow hybrid," he mused aloud, the griffon making extremely broad and baseless claims about their relationship as he tried his best to embarrass them. He wondered if you could see the blush on the already red pegasus.

"Well of course not. I'm as much a pony as you are, well perhaps a bit less, the whole claws and beak thing I suppose," he explained with a smirk, wriggling all of the black digits on his claws as he playfully chomped his equally dark beak at nobody in particular. "The ponies though do love to say everypony in a manner that seems to assume that everyone is a pony or likes to be referred to as a pony. If I said everypony, would that include you or me, I wonder," he mused aloud, the griffon drifting a bit off topic as he ranted on ponies in a subtle manner. He had grown to accept it as the norm, but he wondered what the caribou thought of that practice.

The griffon chuckled lightly as he succeeded at making Snowdrift consolidate his position. Gerrard watched the nervous caribou and hoped he didn't freak out the snowlander too much, the hybrid not wanting to peel a frightened beast off him, not that his expression reflected this at all, an unwavering smirk still plastered onto his face. "Well I suppose we are both freaks, and not freaks. In the land of ponies, anyone who isn't a pony is a freak to them. But you know what, that is okay. Being a freak is subjective I suppose. From their perspective we would be a bit odd, just as ponies and griffons are freaks, if not frightening where you come from," he explained, trying to get the point that perspective plays a big deal in the life of everyone.

"The rulers are Princess Celestia and Princess Luna. It is unclear if they are actual deities, but their longevity is known, their relations with the griffon nation chronicled for over one thousand years by both sides. Princess Celestia has the power to control the sun while Princess Luna has the power to control the moon and the night. The exact extent of their powers is unknown, but it does seem that they have a great deal of control over the cosmos. "Regardless of how you might feel about them or their perceived powers, every pony views them as supreme rulers at the level of a deity. It would be unwise to publicly denounce or belittle them or their powers, the many guards that roam this city seem very protective of their reputations," he warned in a seemingly sincere manner, the griffon trying to help Snowdrift avoid making any severe mistakes.

The griffon stared straight back at him with aloof eyes, his true motives impossible to ascertain. He carefully paced forward, not letting the caribou build any reasonable personal space. "Why yes I am a griffon! I am glad that is established now. I always wondered if I was a pony, but now you have set me free!" he sarcastically replied, a goofy grin plastered across his face. "I know that griffons in your native homeland love the taste of your species, but there is no worry about such an assault here. In Equestria, it is illegal to kill another self-aware creature, even if you are hungry and want some food. You are self-aware, right?" he commented in a serious manner, looking over the brown pelted grass eater.

The term simply meant the ability to reconcile one's self as an individual, but Gerrard wasn't sure if the herbivore had heard the terminology in his travels. He hoped not, the griffon wanting him to panic in search of something he already had. "In Equestria we speak all the time, in fact, our nations are allies even! You aren't exactly a citizen of Equestria yet though, so I'm not sure how much the rule applies to you," he added nefariously, wrapping a talon around the neck of Snowdrift as he leaned on him lightly at an uncomfortably close distance. "Do you think I'm allowed to eat you? Well regardless, I won't for now." he mused in an aloof manner, enjoying himself as he leaned on the strong winter creature.

"Of course I want to help you. We freaks need to stick together! If you knew of the magical spells that some unicorns held at their disposal, you would fall into despair. The reason why they hold others in contempt is a feeling of superiority that stems from their ability to use magic. In fact, our benevolent rulers are two winged unicorn sisters who are over one thousand years old and hold the power of the cosmos at their disposal. It is wise to align yourself with them or you may find yourself exiled to the stars, never to see the light of the sun again! I know of all the ways to appease our benevolent dictators, will you follow my guidance, I have no desire to bring harm upon you," he commented with what seemed like a sincere face.

Updated with Artwork from an artist on this site =3

"And there, district two maintenance is now complete. Just gotta turn in my report and pick up my cash. These kind of jobs are always my favorite, no pressure and great pay," a deep and strong voice mused aloud as a winged creature slipped his tools into a bag that was fastened to his neck. Gerrard had just finished his job request in the city and was making his way back to the palace before a strange creature caught the attention of his keen eyes. A devilish smirk crept across his beaked face, the griffon spotting a stranger he had never seen before.

The griffon lurked behind the horned icelander, watching his movements as he roamed through the city. He heard a few uppity unicorns talk down to the strange outsider, but didn't smirk, probably used to dealing with the entitlement that seemed to ooze out of all the locals. He carefully moved up the cobbled streets of the famed city of old, the griffon strangely at home in the odd city. Although his species was foreign, he had spent many a year here, a benefactor of a student exchange program that he milked for all it's worth. The hybrid quickly made his way up to the cloven hooved creature and stared down a few nearby ponies, dispersing them enough to get the foreigner all to himself.

"Oh hello dear Caribou, I've only read about your kind in my textbooks. You seem a bit out of place here, any way I can help out? You should know that as the Capital of Equestria, there are many uppity ponies here who think they are better than you. I can teach you how to deal with them properly. I used to be a foreigner here too, look how well I've blended in," the griffon explained from behind Snowdrift, his strong firm voice almost a bit imposing. The hybrid leaned forward, waiting for the caribou to glance back at him. If he did decide to, he would be greeted by the silver plumed head of a rather nefarious looking griffon. His black beak and coat seemed strangely out of place, at least for a tundra, his coloration making any kind of winter hunting all but impossible in the white wastelands of the north. It seemed very likely that this griffon was definently not from the north, but he was still a griffon nonetheless, and a reasonably large one, able to roughly look the Caribou in the eyes from his vantage point.

(anything in particular we want to do here? I'm not sure if there is much more we can do aside from going our seperate ways and end the RP)

The faint creaking of a pipe filled the air in the oft rampaged town of Ponyville. A griffon had just finished repairing the waterline to the strangely famous Equestrian City, the hybrid marvelling at his work before sliding a large and strangely glimmering crescent wrench into a bag that was fastened around his upper torso.Gerrard wiped the brow of his silver feathered head with a jet black talon as he dealt with the hot weather as best he could. His keen golden eyes spotted a young colt strutting through town with a strange lance on his back. The griffon smirked slightly, knowing something about the pegasus was a bit strange, the beaked character smirking widely as he silently stalked his prey. He lowered his large frame close to the ground as he ducked behind buildings and terrain while shadowing the strangely small 'knight'. He eventually followed the young pony up to a tree and listened intently as he spoke to a tree as if it were alive.

"Alas, they don't make knights as they used to. Is Celestia ordering pint sized soldiers to serve in her army? I think not young one," a deep, strong voice called out from behind the colt as the griffon decided to end his stalking. The griffon was clearly much larger and older than the young Jewler, the hybrid glancing down on his smaller, winged counterpart. "Why are you speaking to the tree as if it can hear you? And here I thought the stories of the mad old knight were simply a myth. It appears Don Coyote the crazed knight stands before me, discussing tales of glory that are soon to happen," he mockingly commented, the griffon wondering how seriously he took his facade as a knight. Hopefully it wasn't too much, because Gerrard wasn't looking to get skewered by a disillusioned young pony with a strange lance.

"Have you ever seen the fabled fire breathing griffon? It is such a dreadful creature, a hybrid with a coat of blackest black. It has fierce golden eyes and a charcoal black beak, clearly charred from the fire it breathes so fiercely," the griffon calmly explained to the young pseudo knight. His words eerily described himself, the griffon almost seeming to assert that he was the monster he spoke of. Could he breathe fire? Anyone with a basic knowledge of griffons would say to the contrary, but perhaps this one actually could somehow? He extended his large black wings and circled them around his body, shrouding the lower portion of his head, his golden eyes peering across to the young nostalgic knight.

"And I am Gerrard Grayfeather, Irrigation Architect from the Royal University of Canterlot. It is an honor to meet you Sir Squall and Lady Firewalker," the griffon replied to the two ponies, getting out the chair and doing a polite bow before them. "I'm glad to hear your water is working correctly, seems like I just have to do some minor repairs. I have to finish my maintenance today or they'll throw me in the dungeon," Gerrard chuckled in an upbeat voice as he stretched his large body out, no audible creaking coming from the younger hybrid's body.

As soon as Cyd had entered her home for additional supplies, Gerrard cocked his head to the side, a bit perplexed has he tried to understand what the odd pair were doing here. "I don't think either of you are qualified to check out the irrigation of Canterlot. What brings you two out here if I may ask?" he inquired in an almost concerned manner. The griffon was by no means a fighter, one of the few in his family who avoided the military life, but always wondered what it was like to be in the military. He figured he was probably too proud and stubborn to take any military orders, especially if it meant fighting someone. The worst injury that came in his line of work was the occasional spray of hot water or of wretched septic leaks.

(from what I have read about hippogriffs, their front is eagle/griffon, and their back half is horse http://images5.fanpop.com/image/photos/28600000/Hippogriff-mythical-creatures-28620890-700-679.jpg Just my two cents)