if she had been paying more attention, she might have felt the weight of his eyes on her back… if her thoughts weren’t scattered across the isles, like how her heart felt, she may have had a chance. petal did feel something, but it was not enough. the further she went into the dark swampy land the stronger the sensation of wrongness became… the shadows here, deepening with every second as the daylight disappeared, seemed sticky and menacing. the way her pale pink hooves sunk unexpectedly in mire, crusting with mud up over her fetlocks, and how they came unstuck with a sucking sound that seemed so loud the whole world might hear caused her heart to race horribly. why hadn’t she just turned around?

despite the coolness of the evening, a sheen of sweat darkens her gold-ivory hide. petal’s heart drums in her ears so loudly that she pauses to breathe every few moments to strain to listen to her surroundings. the slightly rust hued tips of her delicately carved ears swivel back and forth, twisting at her poll, as sour nervousness blooms in her stomach. even with this feeling of foreboding, of wrongness, she still trembles forward.

the smell of him is what she notices first. her pale pink nostrils, soft as velvet, flare with alarm as she inhales the musk. everything freezes. her finely sculpted head jerks upward, blue eyes wide with terror, and her heart stops altogether. his question is not threatening, but the menace in his tone, and the way he circles her, is enough. she can barely make out his shape in the shadows as he skirts her path, coming just close enough to make her quiver, but she knows then that she does not stand a chance. for a second, his words give her even further pause and she glances frantically around, we? she sees no-one else. she stammers cautiously, hopelessly, ”i… i’m not lost. just passing through. let me by? please?”

she is not a weak mare. in mind, in spirit, she has always thought herself strong, until lately that was…but her body was fragile, nearly translucent with its delicacy…. it was small and fine. even still, she had endured many things. she wondered, through the sense of bleary panic that engulfed her, if she would endure this?