choke this love till the veins start to shiver
one last breath till the tears start to wither

Drika had spent her whole childhood wishing for something exciting to happen in the Peak. She often whined about how quiet it was there, or how boring, to which her mother would respond by telling her it was peaceful, and safe. Perspective was everything, she supposed.

Now, however, something interesting had finally happened and it turned out to be much less fun than Drika had imagined.

The cried split the otherwise quiet of the mountain slopes. Drika had been dozing near the base of the Peak, and the sound quickly drew her attention. Without concern for any potential danger, she trotted out from her shady hiding spot and followed the sound down the incline, until she spotted a familiar figure – Wasp was the other young mare’s name, if she remembered correctly.

As she drew closer, Drika realised that her Peak sister was injured – flecks of blood marred her coat from bites and nicks, and she looked exhausted. She had been fighting. Wasp was one of the warriors, of course, but to be fighting so close to the Peak and to be looking so distraught, Drika could see clearly that it had not gone well.

Her ears flicked at the sound of hooves, and she noted two dark figures coming towards the scene as well. She recognised them as fellow Peak members, although she did not know them well.

Momentarily, Drika felt shame squirm in her stomach – she had obviously been useless and unaware while the whole event had been going on. She pushed the feelings away, and let out a small nicker that announced her approach.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

DRIKA
shut your mouth, baby stand and deliver