https://desuarchive.org/mlp/thread/26551463/

>The pink-maned mare across from you crosses her forelegs, her face falling
>"So... you do *what* for a living, exactly?"
"I'm in a band."
>"I see..."
"We're a pretty underground crust-punk group."
>"Naturally."
>Christ, it's like the temperature in the room dropped five degrees
>Definitely not the best date you've ever been on, to say the least
>But also not the worst
>The waiter stops by your table, notepad in his mouth
>"Mr. Anonymous? Ms. de Lis? Can I get your order?"
"Yeah, I'll have a plate of the broccoli flambé with--"
>"Actually... I think I'm going to go. I've got a... an important gig to get to. I completely forgot about it."
>You don't even try to stop her

>As you step out of the restaurant, head bowed in defeat, a dark shape seems to descend from above, gliding in a wide circle before landing next to you
>"So? How'd it go?"
>Gilda smacks you with her tail
"I'm leaving after fifteen minutes. How do you think it went?"
>"I know you fucked up, dweeb, but I thought I'd give you the oppurtunity to *try* to save face."
"Eh. Nah. Why'd you think trying to hook me up with a model was a good idea, anyway?"
>"Because she was hot, dumbass! Are you seriously gonna complain that I set you up with one of the best catches in Equestria?"
"No... no, I'm not."
>You plop down in a bench, sighing
"Thanks, G."
>Gilda raises an eyebrow
>Or whatever the gryphon equivalent is

>"Yeah... go back to complaining. The 'heartfelt gratitude' is weird as fuck, coming from you."
"Get fucked, lion butt."
>"Kill yourself, monkey dick."
>Gilda places a claw on your back, scratching you gently
>"But seriously, though, she was a total cunt anyway. Thought maybe she'd be an easy lay, but I guess she was a prude."
"Pretty much. She kept using random French words."
>"Are you fucking serious?"
"Yeah. I think she made one of them up though. Unless *le salád* is an actual French word."
>"Ha! What a fucking dork!"
"I know, right? You sure know how to pick 'em, don't you?"
>"Ha... yeah."
>For a moment, Gilda's demeanor falters
>"That I do..."

>"Yo! Anon, dude!"
>Gilda, as is her habit, just squeezes right through your open window, plopping onto your bed
>"Dude, I got you a date for tonight!"
"Are you serious?"
>"Yeah, fag! Now get the hell out of bed! You're meeting her in ten minutes!"
"Ten minutes? What the fuck!? You couldn't give me a little more notice?"
"Nope! It's the fucking Element of Generosity, dude! She's in town, and she's looking for some company! Now hurry the fuck up!"
>Ten minutes later, you're dressed, hastily showered, and waiting to meet your date
>As it turns out, the mare's fifteen minutes late anyway
>You can spy Gilda waiting in the bushes across the street, her tail poking out from beneath the shrubbery
>Nosy little catbird

>"Ahem! Yoohoo, darling!"
>An absolutely gorgeous mare trots up to you, her mane styled in a physics-defying purple swoop and her alabaster body adorned with the latest in horse chic
>"Are you the one I'm supposed to be meeting here?"
"I guess? You're Rarity, right?"
>"Yes, darling. And you are?"
"Anonymous."
>"Well, Anonymous, I know this dainty little restaurant downtown! If you'll follow me..."

>Holy shit, this is the best date you've ever been on
>Rarity's charming, gorgeous, well-spoken, and devilishly witty when she has to be
>After this, you promise you're never gonna yell at Gilda when she drops fish carcasses on your floor again
>"And then the poor darling actually asked if we had anything in her size! Sassy and I were horrorstricken!"
>You join Rarity in laughter, punctuating it with sips from your glass of whine
>"You should have seen the poor thing! Of course we had nothing near her size, but what could we say? We tried to cobble something together, but... well, neither of us are miracle workers."
"So, what'd you do?"
>"I pretended she'd just won our "one thousandth visitor" competition, and promised to send her a free dress within the month. That seemed to placate the poor darling."
>You glance over your shoulder, where you see Gilda peering through the window, watching you
>She gives you a thumbs up, or whatever the gryphon equivalent is
>You nod to her, then turn back to Rarity
>The waiter arrives, carrying the bill
>You reach for your wallet, but Rarity stops you
>"Oh, nonsense, darling, allow me!"
>Cute, good talker, and pays for her dates?
>You're in love
>As Rarity counts out her money, she continues on with a completely different story
>"I can't thank you enough for today, darling. It's been so lonely down here in Baltimare, away from my friends, my marefriend..."

>At the word "marefriend" you nearly spit your wine out
"Did you say... marefriend?"
>"Of course, darling. Oh! Did I not mention Applejack?"
"No... no, you didn't."
>You try to keep the disappointment out of your face, but Rarity clearly sees right through you
>"Oh, darling, I'm so sorry. I gave you the complete wrong impression, didn't I?"
"No, it was my fault. I shouldn't have read so far into things."
>She shakes her head
>"I'm so dreadfully sorry. If... if you'd like to pursue a friendship, I'd be more than happy to visit sometime."
>She gives you a hopeful smile
"Yeah... yeah, sure. Any time."

>The minute you leave, Gilda is upon you
>"So? How'd it go? Looked pretty good, yeah?"
"It was nice. But she's... not interested."
>"Are you fucking serious? What a cunt!"
"Nah, it's not her fault. Still... fuck."
>You walk aimlessly through downtown, Gilda prowling beside you
>"Well, hey, dude. You feel like drowning your sorrow?"
"Wouldn't be opposed."
>"That's the spirit!"
>Gilda hover up into the air, smacking your cheek
>"Come on, let's get hammered! Cider's on me!"
>Gilda drags you down the street to your favorite little seedy liquor market, where you shell out for some cheap cider
>Since you paid for the booze, you force her to carry it to the park, which she isn't happy about
>"This is heavy as fuck! You carry it for a while!"

"Ha. Nope."
>"What the hell! Come on, asshole! I'm dying back here!"
"It's one six-pack. Is one six-pack seriously too much for you?"
>Gilda puffs up her cheeks, blushing at your challenge to her
>"Uh, duh, no it's not! It's easy as fuck! I'm just tired!"
"Yeah, well, deal with it. We're almost there anyway."
>"Uuuuuuugh I hate you so much."
>She knocks against you, snickering when you nearly lose your footing
>Faking anger, you chase after her, barely able to keep up with even her laziest flight speed

>The two of you collapse into the shadiest spot of the park you can find, cracking into your cold drinks
>Gilda buries her paws in the dirt, sighing
>It's a perfect spring afternoon, with the sunlight bouncing off the lake in shimmering waves and wrapping you and Gilda in a pleasant blanket of warmth
>You chug the cider down, then toss the bottle into the trash
>Gilda finishes hers, then tosses it, bouncing the bottle off a tree and into the trash
>"Get fucked."
"That was... pretty good, actually."
>"Heh... yeah. I didn't think I'd actually make it."
>She crosses her forelegs behind her head, and you do the same
"Thanks for today, by the way."
>"Don't mention it. Sucks that it went to shit."
"Eh, it was still pretty nice. Just... didn't work out."
>"Hey, just like you."
"Huh?"
>"Not working out."
"Hey, I'm gonna start soon."
>"Sure you are. Tubby."
"Okay, now that's a low blow. I'm not fat."
>Gilda pokes your stomach, and there's a little more resulting jiggle than you're comfortable

"...didn't say I was perfectly skinny either."
>Gilda throws her head back, laughing
>"Dude... seriously. How many is this you've botched, now?"
"I think... twelve?"
>"Are you counting Pinkie?"
"Was Pinkie even a real date? It was so... you know."
>"Yeah... okay, Pinkie doesn't count. But still, twelve first dates. What are you doing, dude?"
"I don't fucking know! Either it doesn't get going, or gets going too fast, or... or whatever. Maybe I'm just shit at this."
>"Maybe? It's pretty obvious you're shit. I just wanna know why."
>Gilda whacks you with her tail, her favorite way to remind you not to take her words *too* seriously
"Heh. Who knows..."
>The two of you fall silent, staring out over the lake
>"If it makes you feel any better... I haven't a good date in a long-ass time either."
"Yeah? I always assumed you were just too cool for dates."
>"Oh, trust me, I am. Still, though... it's been a while."
"What happened?"
>"What do you mean?"
"You know. Why haven't you tried to get another date? You find one for me like every week, why don't you go focus on yourself for once?"
>The feathers on Gilda's neck ruffle
>"Because... I dunno, dude. Fuck you, that's why."
"Sensitive subject?"
>"N-no! I just don't feel like telling you my romantic history. Asshole."
"Why not? I tell you mine."
>"Yeah, but that's because you're a pussy. I got better things to do."
>She grabs another bottle of cider, cracking it open on her beak

"Like drop fish carcasses all over my rug?"
>"I did that like once, douche."
"Once a week, maybe..."
>Gilda smacks you with her tail, throwing back half the cider in one gulp
>"I just don't do romance. That enough for you?"
>You shrug
"I guess. Is it enough for *you*?"
>"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"Dunno."
>"Idiot."
>Gilda stands, prowling in a circle around you
>"Not gonna lie though, dude, you're kinda exhausting my date supply."
"I know, I know."
>"Who haven't I tried to hook you up with?"
"I dunno. But seriously, I think you should stop worrying about finding me a date."
>"Definitely. But if I don't, who will? It's not like you put in any effort."
"You got me there. But... well, neither do you?"
>"The fuck? I bust my ass trying to find you a--"
"Right, exactly. You bust your ass trying to make *me* happy. Why don't you find someone for yourself?"
>"Because..."
>Gilda turns away from you, her claws digging into the ground
>When she speaks, the strain in her voice is masked well... but you've known her long enough to see through the guise
>"Because fuck that, you know? I got me. That's all I need."
>She thumps her chest, feathers ruffling with pride
"Right. Couldn't keep you tied down for long anyway, right?"
>Relieved at the excuse to save face, Gilda quickly jumps on the line of conversation
>"Of course not, dude. Who in their right mind could even handle me?"

>Before you can answer, she leaps into the air, her wings snapping open as she glides in a wide, swooping arc around you
>"Come on! Let's go steal some kid's Frisbee!"
>She zooms off, eventually finding some poor, unsuspecting colt and swiping his toy, doing laps with it around the lake before you finally force her to give it back

"Do you have to do that every time we come here?"
>"Come on, dude, I always give it back. It's just fun!"
"Yeah, yeah. Poor little guy looked kinda sad when you took it, though?"
>"So?"
>You stare at Gilda, and she hangs her head
>"Okay, maybe it was kinda douchey. I'll... I dunno, buy him an ice cream if he comes back. But whatever! Lets go get hammered!"
"Already? It's like four o'clock in the afternoon."
>"Hell yeah! Best time of the day!"
>She swoops off towards your favorite dive bar, leaving you to follow her
>When you get there, you find she's already gotten the two of you a booth, and ordered two drinks
>One for her, and one for... well, also her
>You get yourself a whiskey sour, sliding into the seat across from her
"You alright?"
>"Huh? What're you talking about, dweeb?"
>Gilda's leaning against the corner of the booth, her paws up on the table
"Nothing. You just look kinda... I dunno, tired?"
>"Of course I'm tired, man. Trying to find dates for your ass every single weekend makes someone tired!"
"Oof. Still milking that, huh?"
>"Until it goes dry."
>The toes of her paws wriggle, and Gilda sighs

"Okay, seriously, what's up?"
>"Nothing! Would you chill out? Jeez! You're ruining my weekend vibe."
>She gives you an exaggerated eye roll, slumping against the chair
"Right. I'm the one who needs to chill."
>Gilda glares
>"Look, dude. Just saying it's starting to get a little old, you know?"
"What?"
>"Our shtick. Me getting you a date, you cocking it up, me trying to comfort you. I'm just getting a little..."
>She pauses for a moment as she searches for the right word
>"...bored."
>Somehow, you get the feeling that wasn't what she wanted to say
"Well, I'm sorry. I offered to help you find a date, if you wan--"
>"Well, I don't. I can find my own dates."
"Okay, then what do you want?"
>Gilda's feathers ruffle
>"I don't know, dweeb, alright? What is this, an interview? Cool it with the super personal questions."
>Her neck poofs even more in her discomfort, and Gilda averts her eyes
>Looks like someone's in a bad mood
>Fortunately, you know exactly how to break her out of it
"So... that Wonderbolts race last week, against Griffonstone?"
>"Fuck! Don't even get me started! That was such bullshit! Soarin is so clearly juicing on something! It's not fair!"
>And there she goes

>The two of you spend... Christ, you don't even no how long, arguing over aerial racing
>Gilda knows way more than you ever will, but you know just enough random facts to challenge her opinions, each one turning into a huge argument you have no chance of winning
>And Gilda loves every minute of it
>Each time you're forced to concede a point to her, she grins like a kid receiving a huge pile of delicious spite-flavored candy

>And the happier she gets, the more she drinks
>Which... well, that ends about as well as you'd think
>"Yeah? Well... you're wrong! Idiot! The only reason Grizelda lost in the Saddle Arabian cup was because that cunt Spitfire checked her in the middle of a race! Her right wing was wrecked!"
"Spitfire never checked her. Just a rumor!"
>"There's pictures! It was all over the papers in Griffonstone!"
"Didn't hear about it over here!"
>"WELL THAT'S BECAUSE--"
>The barkeep steps toward you, clearly not happy with the noise

"Well, you got me kicked out of a bar. Again."
>"Ahhh, quit being such a whiner. Besides, he was so busy being mad at us... that he forgot to charge us for drinks!"
>Gilda throws her head back, teetering slightly as drunken laughter errupts from her beak
>You're feeling it a bit yourself, but nowhere near her level
>Stupid gryphon gets like this every time she drinks, or worse
>"Hey! Let's go get in a fight!"
"We're not gonna get in a fight, G. Let's just go home and crash."
>"It's cool if I crash at your place, right?"
"When isn't it?"
>Gilda chuckles, whacking you with her tail
>"You know, for such a huge dork... you can be pretty cool sometimes."
"Awww. I'm real touched."
>You trace an imaginary tear down your cheek, and Gilda laughs far harder than she probably should

>"Like, don't let this go to your head, okay?"
"Oh, trust me, I won't."
>"But, like... you're probably the best friend I've got."
"Aren't I your *only* friend?"
>You only intend for the words to come across as a self-deprecating joke, but Gilda winces, her head drooping in response
"Shit, sorry. I didn't mean--"
>"Didn't mean what, dude? Ha, it's cool, I can take a joke!"
>She punches your leg, forcing a smile

>When you get back to your apartment, she wobbles over to your couch the moment you open the door, stretching catlike across the cushions
>Leaving no room for you, of course
>You take a seat next to her, folding your arms behind your head
>"I do have a lot of friends, you know."
"Of course, G. It was--"
>"Just a joke, right. And the joke's funny because I'm popular as fuck."
"Exactly."
>Gilda repeats her words to herself, staring up at the ceiling
>"But, you know... even if I wasn't so crazy popular... I'd still think you were pretty cool."
"Same to you."
>"Ha. You aren't popular at all, dork. You've botched it with how many mares this year?"
"We went over it, remember? It was twelve."
>"Twelve? So the next one is lucky thirteen?"
"Guess so."
>"Awesome. Can't wait to see how you cock that one up."
>She stretched again, her beak cracking open in a yawn
>"But I guess I'll have to find someone for you first, won't I?"

"Shouldn't be a problem. I mean, you're twelve for twelve, right?"
>Gilda chuckles
>"Heh. Yeah. Better track record than you've got."
"Yeah..."
>You drop your head in mock defeat, before running to the kitchen to grab some water
>Returning, you pass a glass to Gilda, who gulps it down greedily
>"Can I ask you a weird question, dude?"
"I can't remember the last time you asked me a normal one, so sure."
>"Why do you keep doing it?"
"Doing what?'
>"Going on these dates. I mean, I set you up on 'em because it's funny to watch you crash and burn."
"Ouch."
>"Can't help myself, dude. It's just so goddamn funny! The look on your face when you found out that Glitter-whatever mare was a dude? I thought my lungs were gonna explode."
"It wasn't that funny..."
>"Sure, not to you. Which is why..."
>Gilda wriggles around to face you, her golden irises inches from your face
>"...why I'm wondering, why do you keep doing it? Do you just get off on me laughing at you?"
"Maybe a little."
>Again, Gilda laughs way harder than necessary
>Her tail twitches in response, ending up draped across your shoulder
"I guess it's just... I dunno. Even if I know they're gonna go to shit in the end, I still get to enjoy myself for an hour or two. Even if it won't go anywhere, I can at least pretend it will for a little while."
>"That's... that's sad, dude."
"A bit, maybe. But if it's so sad, why keep finding them?"
>"Sad for you, not for me. They'll never stop being funny."

"So... this has all been a big joke?"
>"Of course, dude. It's fun, right? If I was really worried about someone making you, you know, happy, I'd just do it myself."
>In her drunken state, it takes her a minute to realize what she just said
>"I... didn't mean like... not like that, idiot!"
>She whiffs you with the back of her tails
>"And stop looking at me like that! It's... it's really weird."
>She folds her forelegs across her chest, chest feathers puffing out
"So... let's say, hypothetically, it actually worked out with me and one of these mares. How would you feel?"
>"Hmph. It'd be whatever. I'd be a little disappointed, probably."
"Oh?"
>The blush that's begun to creep into Gilda's face deepens
>"Because I wouldn't get to laugh at you! Idiot! Jeez. Fuck off."
>She tries to smooth her feathers back out, but they don't want to seem to stay down
>"And..."
>She sighs
>"Maybe a little bummed because... because we probably wouldn't hang as much."
"Aww."
>"Don't make fun."
"I'm not."
>You reach up to pat her back
"That means a lot to me, G."
>"Yeah, well... don't get used to it. I can only handle so much sappy shit."
"Think you've got room for a little more?"
>"...maybe."

"If we ever did stop hanging out so much... I'd be really disappointed too."
>"Really? I mean, uh... yeah dude. Duh. Who the hell else would you have to hang out with?"
"Exactly."
>"Heh. You're damn lucky you've got me, honestly."
"I agree."
>Gilda's eyes go wide
>"Just... just get to bed, you giant ass-clown."
"Reached your tolerance?"
>"I reached my tolerance like half a conversation ago. Lemme sleep."
"Alright."
>Groaning, you get to your feet
"There's blankets in the closet, if you need them."
>"I know where your stupid blankets are."
"Yeah, but you never use them."
>"Because that's gross, dude."
"You always complain about how cold it is in here."
>"Yeah, well... it is. But I'm not using one of your stupid blankets."
>She hardly finishes her complain before you grab a blanket from the closet and drape it over her
>Gilda groans
"See? Isn't that better?"
>"...maybe."
>You chuckle
"So... we gonna get some breakfast tomorrow?"
>"Tomorrow? I've, uh... I might have things to do tomorrow."
"Yeah? Since when do you have 'things' to do?"
>"Since fuck you, dude. I'm... gonna be busy."
>Gilda hides her face beneath the blanket
"Busy with what?"
>"With things, you retard. Like I just said. Now lemme sleep."

>Gilda curls up into a tight little ball beneath the blanket, her entire body hidden from view
"Um... alright. I'll see you soon, then?"
>"Yeah. Whatever."
>The ball scoots to the end of the couch, coming to rest against one of the pillows
"Night, G."
>"Whatever, dude."
>You turn to head back to your room, but just as you reach the living room's doorway, Gilda calls out behind you
>"Hey. Anon."
"Yeah?"
>"Thanks. For today."
"You're welcome?"
>"Don't be shitty. I'm... I'm glad we got to hang out. Thanks for spending time with me."
"Hey, you don't need to thank me, it's--"
>"Yeah, I've had enough sappy shit. Get to bed, dude."
>A single claw sticks out from the ball to wave goodbye

>When you wake up, Gilda is, as expected, gone
>You find your couch empty, with the blanket you leant her neatly folded
>It's covered in feathers, but then again, *everything* ends up covered in feathers when you have Gilda over
>You go through your routine as normal, expecting Gilda to crawl back through your bedroom window at practically every moment
>But she doesn't
>It's been three days, and you haven't seen a single feather
>Or, well, you have, but not one attached to her
>Just the ones covering half the area of your home...
>Okay, bad example

>You'd probably have thought Gilda were dead, or at the very least had high-tailed it out of Baltimare, if not for a mysterious, scribbled note showing up on your door one Friday morning
>It's been a week since you last saw Gilda, and you're glad for the contact
>But leaving notes really isn't her style
>Normally, if she had something to tell you, she'd squeeze through your window and let you know
>So something's definitely up, but at least she's alright
>You turn the note over in your hands as you head into the kitchen to make breakfast
// I found your number thirteen. She'll be waiting for you in the park, near that fountain with the missing foreleg. Be there at seven. Dweeb.//

>Number thirteen?
>You can't really say you're excited at the prospect of another date; at this point, you've started growing numb to them
>Besides, she doesn't normally set up such mysterious meetings
>Maybe she'll be...
>No, that'd be stupid
>It's probably just Gilda fucking with you, again
>Should you even bother going?
>If she really feels the need to go to the lengths of writing you some stupid note, then she's probably got something really, really obnoxious planned for you
>But, well...
>What the hell else are you gonna do today?
>Preemptively rolling your eyes at what you're sure is going to be an absolute mess of a "date," you head back to your room to get dressed

>It's the perfect day for a park date, at the very least
>Sunny, no clouds in the sky, that perfect seventy-two degree sweet spot...
>It's the kind of weather that absolutely forbids any negativity, and you find yourself actually starting to -- dare you say it -- look forward to this mystery date
>Gilda does have a point
>They can be pretty funny, can't they?

>You reach the park around noon, immediately heading for the statue Gilda mentioned
>Apparently it's supposed to be some super-famous pony politician -- whose name, if you remember correct, was a bad horse pun -- but the features have eroded from the weather, and the front foreleg was snapped off by vandals years ago
>It's supposed to be one of the most popular meeting spots in the city, and you're somewhat surprised Gilda went with something so cliche
>You reach the treeline that surrounds the fountain, peering out from behind a trunk thick enough to hide you
>Gilda lounges atop the fountain's basin, basking in the sun
>She keeps glancing over her shoulder, and her tail twitches at every little sound
>Why is she so nervous?
>And why don't you see a mare anywhere around?
>Gilda ruffles her feathers, clicking her claw impatiently against the marble base
>Maybe she's waiting for your date to get here?
>You settle against the trunk, figuring you'll let the mystery mare get here first

>Thirty minutes later, she still hasn't shown up
>Gilda looks like a nervous wreck; her tail coiling and uncoiling, her claw tapping so loud and so quickly you can hear it from fifteen feet away, and the fur on her back bristling with anticipation
>Eh, fuck it, you're getting tired of this
>You step out from between the trees, calling out to Gilda
"Hey! Did she no-show?"
>Gilda yelps, accidentally toppling backwards into the water
>She springs out immediately, looking like... well, like a wet cat, shaking the water from her fur
>"She, uh... she just showed up, but... uh... you missed her! She left like five minutes ago!"
"Really, now?"
>"Yeah! What a dork, am I right?"
>Gilda shakes off again, dousing you with a shower of little droplets

"What a dork. And you were sitting here because...?"
>Gilda's cheeks turn a wonderful shade of crimson
>"Because, uh... uh... come on, dude, you know. Just hangin' out, right?"
>She ruffles her feathers, trying her best to look nonchalant
>Instead, she just looks even more nervous
"Oh, right. What a shame, huh?"
>"Yeah, dude. What a nob! Anyway..."
>Gilda turns in a half circle, her tail swishing
>"I was thinking man, uh..."
"Yeah?"
>She clacks her claws together, clenching her beak
>"Can I tell you something... a little weird?"
"Of course."
>Is... is she really about to say what you think she's about to say?
>"I, uh... listen. You know..."
>Gilda hisses in frustration
>"Alright. What I'm trying to say is..."
>She looks up at you, the golden orbs of her eyes glittering in the afternoon sun
>"Is... ha!"
>She awkwardly punches your shoulder, skipping away from you
>"There never was any date! It was just a prank! Got you, dude! Ha!"
>She spins in another circle, nearly tripping over her own paws
>"You should see the look on your face! H-ha! Totally priceless!"
>You just stare at Gilda
>Eventually she comes to a stop, giving you this doofy, forced grin
>"Pretty good joke, right? Eh?"

"Gilda..."
>"What's the matter, dude? You're not mad, right? It was just a prank, dweeb!"
>Gilda bats at your leg, hopping around like a kitten
>"Come on, you're not mad, ri--"
>You drop to one knee, placing your hands on Gilda's shoulders
>Or whatever the cat equivalent therein
>Her eyes widen, and through her fur you can feel her muscles tensing
>"Hey... what are you doing, asshole?"
>You place your hand at the back of Gilda's head, moving your mouth towards her beak
>"B-back off, dweeb. I'm serious..."
>Gilda doesn't make any attempt to get out of the way
>As your face approaches hers, she closes her eyes, tilting her head back and opening her beak slightly, which you suppose is the griffon equivalent of puckering one's lips
>Your mouth gets so close to hers that you can taste the minty flavor of her breath... and then pull away
"Gotcha."
>Gilda freezes for a moment
>Then her eyes fly open
>"H-h-hey! What the hell was that!?"
>She sputters in fury, her hackles bristling
"Just a prank, dweeb."
>She howls in frustration
>"You... I hate you!"
>Gilda tackles you to the ground, and the two of you roll together to the edge of the clearing
>When you come to a stop, she's straddling you, her face barely an inch from yours
>Immediately, she jumps off of you, squawking
>Yep, an honest-so-God squawk
>Sounds like a distressed, prepubescent chicken
>Gilda's face turns red from embarrassment, and she hops onto the bench, sulking

>You haul yourself up from the ground, and sit next to her
>She turns her back to you, hissing in anger
>"That wasn't funny."
"I'd disagree."
>Gilda looks away
"But... maybe it was a little mean."
>"Fuck you."
>You catch Gilda looking over her shoulder at you, but she immediately glances back at the bench
"I, uh... I saw you waiting, earlier."
>"Huh?"
"I got here early. I saw you waiting."
>"Y-yeah, idiot! I was waiting for your--"
>Gilda sighs, turning back to you
>"You're not buying it, are you?"
"Not really."
>"I hate you, sometimes."
"Yeah, well I hate you more."
>You bump Gilda, and she tries her best not to smile
>"Guess I look like a total dork right now, don't I?"
"Eh. I wouldn't say a *total* dork."
>Gilda drums her claws against the bench, shifting her weight on her haunches
>"So... guess we've got a new contender for 'worst date now, huh?"
"Worst? I mean... couldn't be any worse than finding out Rarity was a lesbian. Or that disaster with Suri Polomare."
>You nudge Gilda again, hoping she'll get the hint
"Besides... shouldn't judge a date before it's over, right?"

>"Before it's over...?"
>Gilda blinks twice, taking a moment to process your words
>"Y-yeah! Of course not, dork! Let's do something fun!"
>She jumps up from the bench, ruffling her wings in excitement
>You get up after her, surprised at the sudden change in attitude
"Yeah? Whaddaya want to do?"
>"Let's get hammered."
"Eh."
>"Come on, don't be a pussy! Let's get fucked up!"
>She circles around you, whacking you with her tail
"Actually, I was thinking we could get some ice cream."
>"Ice cream? Dude, come on. We're not little kids."
"So you're saying you don't want any?"
>"I mean..."
>Gilda puffs up her chest, cheeks a little pink
>"I wouldn't say no, but... bleh, fine."
>She runs ahead of you
>"But I get to pick the place, okay?"

>The walk there feels so familiar, but it's... different somewhere
>You and Gilda don't act different towards each other, but each word you speak seems to carry a weight that wasn't present before
>"So, what've you been up to without me, dweeb?"
"Eh, crying myself to sleep, mostly. Life just isn't the same without someone dropping their dirty feathers all over my house."
>"Well, glad to hear nothing's changed. And my feathers are *not* dirty."
>On the word "not," she smacks you with her tail
>Though you can't help but notice that her tail-smack has lost its usual edge
>It feels more like she's caressing you...