Falls

The trek to the Falls was a long suffering one that Crow would have preferred not to agonize through. Her steps were wobbly and unsure, but her slitted dark eyes burned with a fury of determination that could have set ablaze the world she glared across. Only with the stranger’s help was she able to reach the roaring waters and ease into the cooling embrace. The pain of the frigid touch was a welcomed one, and the black mare let out a sigh of satisfaction as the fresh water washed away the salt and grim clinging to her flesh. It helped to ease the weight of her body from her legs and slack her thirst as she drank her fill. Only when she had been fully satisfied did she turn her attention to the mare, a look of expectancy flashing across her black face.


“What do you want from me?” Crow asked, though her tone was more of a demanding accusation. There wasn’t a good deed that went unpunished, and the black mare did not think the stranger had done this from the kindness of her heart. No, there was something else at play here, and although she had made it this far, Crow could still choose to stop fighting. To let nature take its course, as boring as that ending would be.