Life goes on in the Forest at the same even pace as it always has. The only difference as of late, is the strained tension Twinge feels between herself and Bacardi over Burn. Leaving Scorch on the mainland had been hard, and yet the remained a united front, wishing their daughter well in her search for freedom and whatever else might be found in the unexplored world beyond the islands. The stunt with Burn and the badger had been an entirely different matter. Where Twinge saw the boy as incompetent and a bit brash, Bacardi had seen his actions as boredom and given him authority to join in on patrols and even a portion of the territory to guard as he might someday do as a herd stallion. Not exactly punishment in Twinge’s book.

And yet the admonishment Bacardi had dealt her way made her feel more like a foolish little filly than the wise leadmare he claimed her to be. Of course, she had warned him she was of no sort, but that did not mean she did not strive for that perfection. And the rift had grown, he neither seeking her out nor her willing to drop her head in shame and seek him out. Of course she would glance his way when he grazed close to the small band that called the Forest home, on occasion even lift her head expectantly. Yet always, something seemed to tug him away or her attention would find itself diverted for whatever reason.

And so they have continued on in this manner, but for how much longer could it last?

Today, Twinge tried to divert her attention away from Burn’s continued estrangement from her side by patrolling the southeastern woodlands with hopes that some distance might bring clarity. Yet even that hope seemed to be lost as the feeble pleas for help ring through the trees.

Russet ears swivel atop her crown as Twinge lifts her finely dished muzzle higher. Paper-thin nostrils flare as the mare drinks in the familiar scents of the woodlands and heaves a rumbling response. Gingerly, the tobiano mare picks her way through the dense thorns and briar bushes that seem to have tripled since the last massive storm. Auburn eyes flit back and forth as she scans the forest ahead of her, following the sounds of struggling movements.

Deeper into the forest she moves, carefully picking her way over the tangled vines and greedy thorns that scrape against her white and brown sides. Sunlight filters through the trees above but not nearly enough to ease the tension she feels ducking onto a small trampled path and into a glen. She was never a fan of confining spaces. The desert where she had grown up was mostly void of trees and gave her keen sights the ability to see for miles around. The Bay had been a bit different. Hell, a stark contrast to her arid upbringing. Yet with Bacardi’s guidance, she found the open meadows and fields a reprieve from the overwhelming mountains and its dark caverns. The forest too was filled with thickness, a suffocating density in places that she left to Bacardi to patrol. And yet here she was, wading waste deep through the clinging briars to answer the plea for help.

Spotting the young filly was not hard, the green earth around her had been upturned in her frantic movements to free herself. Dirt and leaf liter clung to her red mane and sweat slickened sides as she struggled again. Despite her best efforts, she could not seem to gather her hind beneath her to stand.

Putting on her best, soothing-parent face, Twinge nickers warmly and closes the space between them so that the child will recognize that she is no longer alone. ”What have you gotten yourself into my dear?” she chides softly with a gentle chuckle as she drops her ashen muzzle near to the girl’s own. Dark lashes blink warmly, ”Would you like some help?”

Twinge hopes her voice sounds sincere, she has never exactly been the mothering type, of that no doubt Burn would agree. Yet she tried, just as she tries now. If only to help because she knew all too well how fearful cage could be.