It’s hard to find love when you’re the last of your kind.
I’ve spent my life searching for another like me. I’ve called to the winds, in hope of an answer, I’ve gone to the sea, in hope of a glimpse, and I’ve taken to the skies in hopes of an encounter. There’s no one out there, and I know that, but admitting it is another thing in its entirety.
I am lonely. That’s a good way to say it. In my search, I’ve denied relations with any other species, so desperate was I to find a companion- male or female, I eventually stopped caring- of my own type. Eventually, I stopped searching for others that looked exactly like me, and started hoping for another Gryphon. If nothing else, if I found a female, she’d at least bear a hybrid that could carry on the species… but that wouldn’t last. The child would need another mate. Such a hopeless situation….
I don’t remember where I was born anymore. Before my parents passed on, I remember playing in water, swimming and splashing, and eventually growing old enough to learn preening from my father. I had to learn this, he said, to attract a mate. Well, it’d be useful if I could find one at all. But these are memories I cling to… Sure, they were my parents, but they were the only others I know of that have ever existed.
I’ve searched all around the Seven Lands. The barrenness of the Ice Plains yielded nothing but icicles on my feet and antlers. I spent several days over the Shattenland of the North, depending on the heat of the Trine Volcanoes to melt them off so I could land painlessly. That year, my antlers snapped off and shattered, like they were still frozen from the inside.
The snow-covered lands of the Upper North and Arctic weren’t much better. I couldn’t spend too much time searching here… the cold was just too much. I was built for warm, not water-freezing temperatures. So I headed south, along the East River, and I explored the East Sea.
The Sea was spectacular. Apparently, it used to be connected to the ocean, and orcas as well as several species of fish live in its depths. But yet… there weren’t any others sailing the skies. There weren’t any hoof-and-talon marks in the dirt around the water- well, other than my own. And, according to a big whale that came up to me, there weren’t any that had dived underwater, or that lived here any longer. The ones that used to live there had just… disappeared.
I moved on, sadly.
The Rainforest yielded nothing but a lost feline cub that I otherwise ignored. There were birds with feathers and colors like mine, and who sang similar songs, but… they weren’t like me. They were still so different. The Desert and Savannah followed suit, as did the Marshlands, over in the West. Nothing. Absolutely, positively nothing.
I turned back to the North and eyed the lands I had missed. Small, partially hooved creatures lived near a fork in one of the rivers. But they weren’t like me. Their little pair of curved horns, size, and the fact that they had paws was enough to tell me that they weren’t kin. Other hooved animals roamed the plains, but none of them- absolutely none- had wings or beaks. Their fur shone in the sun as I continued.
After fruitlessly searching the woodlands, I continued back to the marshes to continue my search. I don’t think I’ll stop looking until I find another. Who knows, perhaps they’re out there, searching for me, too. And maybe we’ll meet up someday. Someday….
