Bacardi was hurting, and he didn’t know what to do about it.


The young stallion stumbled down along the Peak’s path that lead to the Falls, his mind blank and his body numb. He didn’t truly know where he was going, only that he needed to go somewhere, anywhere but the Peak. As he reached the base, he tripped over a loose rock, the stone rolling out from under his hoof and sent the painted boy tumbling the rest of the way down. As Bacardi came to a crashing halt, he did not bother to pick himself up. Instead, he lay there in a heap of legs and tail, his body heaving with the silent sobs that racked his body.


She was gone, how could she be gone?


It was the first time since the news of her passing that he had allowed himself to cry. An uncontrollable stream of tears rolled down his dirt covered face, dripping to the grass below him. Bacardi had been strong in front of the Peak mares, had kept a stoic face for his sister, but laying here now he could no longer keep it held back. For a short while, his grief was all consuming, but thankfully he had been left alone in such a vulnerable time. There had been no one to follow him, or find him, and Bacardi was able to let it all out.


When the tears finally subsided and he was able to breath, Bacardi lifted his head and peered around at his surroundings. There wasn’t another soul in sight. Only the bright sun above had been watching him, keeping him warm like a mother’s embrace. A new onslaught of tears threatened to give way, but he pushed them away now, knowing he had cried enough.


Moving his body from the tangled mess it had been, Bacardi dragged himself up into a standing position, only then realizing the damage he had done. Dark crimson stained his forehead, and a place on his hip where the rocks had cut him from the fall. There were scrapes and bruises in other places, but not as bad as those. His body felt stiff from laying there so long and the young stallion tried to stretch it out some by walking over to the pool of water at the base of the falls. As he lowered his head for a drink, his golden eyes looking at his bloodied face, he wondered what Havelle would think if she got to see him this way? Would she be worried? Or make fun of him for being clumsy?


Wait, Havelle!


Bacardi jerked his head up from the water as he realized what day it was. He had promised to meet her in Paradise on the first day of Spring, and he was already late! Turning, the painted stallion trotted towards the shoreline, his cut hip giving him a bit of a limp. He did not slow as he entered the water, plunging into it with a newfound focus. Although his chest was still tight with grief, Bacardi would not let it force him to break a promise.


The sting of the salt in his cuts also proved as a good distraction as he swam, but thankfully the water helped to loosen up the offended muscles from the fall. As his hooves struck sand, he no longer held a limp as he strode up onto the beach and paused there. His golden eyes swept the territory, the sun glimmering in their depths from this beautiful scenery. Bacardi wondered what it would have been like, if Havelle had taken him here first. He might not have ever wanted to leave. Drawing in a deep breath, he called for her. Hoping the filly had not given up on waiting for him and lingered nearby.

two years. mutt. bay tobiano. fourteen three hands. of the peak.

"...speech"