• Of course it had to be raining today. Her first day in this strange land and it was raining. And not a light drizzle, mind you. Heaven was pouring buckets down on top of her. The female emitted an annoyed snort, taking shelter beneath a large fir tree. It was a tad drier beneath the thick branches, though not much more than outside the tree's shelter. Spring showers! Bah! Shivers ran across her white and copper painted flank. She leaned heavily against the tree's trunk, her eyes hooded as the temptation to sleep through the rain washed through her. Why didn't she wait till the dry summer months before leaving her desert home?

    A memory flashed through her mind. Oh. That's why. You stir up a revolution in your herd and get in a fight with your stallion and they kick you out. Banish you. She snorted again, stomping her front hooves. Who needs them! She didn't need anyone. He was an old fool of a stallion anyway.

    The mare scolded herself. That was the fifth herd she had been kicked out of since her third year. Is it possible to be too wild? Nah. She tossed her flaxen forelock from her dark eyes and noticed lightning flashing in the south. Followed by the boom of thunder. As annoying as it was to be drenched to the bone, she did enjoy storms. Power. A thrill raced through her veins. No one would care for her, so she found love in seeking power... danger... chills raced down her backbone. She pushed off the tree, sidestepping, spinning around on her hinds out of the tree's shelter, pushing off from the earth, fores reaching for the gray sky, lightning flashed again... she waited.. here it came... power's call... she answered... maw splitting open and vocals ringing out as thunder boomed all around her.

    She reached for the heavens a moment longer before returning to the saturated earth. Mud squished around her hooves. Her forelock fell into her eyes again as she lowered her head, a gesture of surrender to the storm. Of defeat. The thrill died fast. It always did. She could never get enough, always feeling empty.

    There the painted mare stood. The rain continued to come down. There she stood... in the open... waiting for what? She didn't know anymore. The dreams were fading. But the fire continued to burn... and burn... and burn. It was eating her alive.