Griffon gripes

[aventuriere]

FORM: Sending crystal
SENDER: Freddie, Val, and Jehan (your favorites!)
RECIPIENT: Everyone
WHAT: A Griffon Grievance
WHEN: Now
WHERE: Everywhere
NOTES: Can we say a group of griffons is called a grievance? A grievance of griffons?

Inquisition.

[This is Val. Don’t stop listening, his tone is grave and serious, which means what follows will be equally grave and serious.]

When one thinks of the noblest of creatures, beasts of the air, one must first and always think of griffons. The dragon, she has a certain unspeakable loveliness, a loveliness of her form, in all her savage glory, but if the word to meditate upon is nobility, then it is the griffon that comes first to mind. On this, we can all agree, yes?

So, then, tell to me: why complain about the smell? [ Because it is terrible! another accented voice says in the background, muffled. ] Yes, it is a pungent aroma. But nobly so. Less noble and far more worthy of complaint is the habit of the griffon of which books do not speak of: the habit of airborne thievery.

A whole ham, Inquisition.

[ Jeannot—who had his despondent face buried in a pillow, before this point—lifts his head to chime in. ]

A good ham. It tasted of hope. Or I imagine that it must have, before it was swallowed whole by a beast who did not even pause to appreciate it.

We ought to have been warned. And another thing—

And another thing! [ It's Freddie now, talking over Jehan, feel free to begin paying attention again. She sounds incensed, but also like she's probably putting it on a bit. ] Hair ribbons! If the beasts want my last good set of silk hair ribbons I would be more than happy to donate them to the cause of brightening up the horribly dull colors you chose for their tack, but I won't have them eaten! It shows an appalling lack of taste which would never have happened if these fine Orlesian creatures had been properly raised.

Perhaps it is not the tack that is the problem? Perhaps it is the color of the griffons themselves. The horrible grays, and duns - the griffons are surely desperate. I would be. Can you dye the feathers, do you think?

—I was going to say, [ Jehan continues, ] I think we are owed an explanation, as academics, for this reemergence of an extinct species. As well as a new ham. If we are given these things then perhaps we can offer ribbons and dye.

And if we offer these griffons ribbons, and dye, and perhaps the smallest piece of our ham - I will take the cut, my friends - perhaps then the griffons will find themselves more kindly disposed to us. And by us I mean me. [If Val sounds a little sulky, that’s because he is.] What an unkindness. I will stoop to bribery if I must, griffons.

Comments

[bouclier]

If you really cannot suppress the desire to put ribbons and dyes on a creature larger than yourselves and continue to find the griffons non-compliant, I am sure Calixte would appreciate your attention. He likes having his mane braided, though as he is black the dyes may not be appropriate.

[degenere]

You know, stripping the color from a mane is not so difficult.

[Just saying.]

[bouclier]

I doubt he would enjoy that.

[degenere]

Painless, too. And if plied with enough treats, he would scarcely notice, I assure you. Tell me, does he prefer a lump of sugar, or an apple?

[bouclier]

Mm, if he does notice, you're likely to get kicked. He is an Orlesian Courser, a proper horse, so it'll hurt.

He prefers sugar, but apples are his second favorite and would take him longer to get through.

[degenere]

Your most gracious pardon, mademoiselle. But I know Orlesian coursers. Well do I know the threat posed by their kicks, and well do I know how to soothe their distemperments.

An apple, sprinkled with sugar. The two as one.

[bouclier]

You may need several. Calixte can be very stubborn.

[degenere]

A dozen. None but the best for our Calixte. A courser of Orlais deserves as much. Will that suffice, do you think?

[bouclier]

I think you may end up being his second-favorite person after that many apples.

[apologist]

That won't do at all.

[bouclier]

I'm sure he'll still like you too, Jeannot.

[apologist]

Third most? Fourth most? How far down this ladder must I fall?

[bouclier]

I would suggest you bribe him as well, but I fear I may have to get him a larger saddle with all these treats.

[apologist]

I could bribe him treats and Val could bribe him with a new saddle.

[bouclier]

Well Val may not find that fair. Calixte doesn't care what saddle he has. Truly if I could stand to ride bareback he'd be happier for it.

[apologist]

Yes, what a shocking and unfortunate result it would be, if Calixte loved me more than Val.

[bouclier]

Who he likes is largely dictated by who feeds him and who gives him the best scratches under his chin. It can change from one day to the next.

[apologist]

I see. In that case, Val may bribe him tomorrow, and I will bribe him the day after, so he forgets.

What colors would you least like for his mane, so I can spare you the worst?

[bouclier]

I'm sure Calixte will enjoy that plan.

Pink would be dreadful. Purple, while a suitably regal color would also likely clash with his barding.

[degenere]

Blue. As I will soon be his favorite, I am allowed the choice.

[bouclier]

Blue would be acceptable.

[degenere]

Consider it done. I will write a letter to the dye shop in Val Royeaux before the week is out.

[degenere]

I have a gift, Jeannot. And I can't help my charm. You must not hate me for it. In fact, you cannot, because I am so charming.

Most unfortunate.