Phantom Hollow Save your scissors

By dusk, the herd had reached the forest, a dark mix of conifers and deciduous with buds ready to burst with the next rain. Here, a bed of dead ferns lay below the thin veil of mist, making each step ring out with a crisp crunch. Here, Fancy thought, they might be safe. Even a sure-footed predator would have trouble sneaking up on them without being heard. 

She led the band toward fresh water, ambling along at a slow pace so that Cedar could keep up. She could see a hollow sunken in above the mare’s eyes, and the concern that lined her brow. She was in pain, but there was little she could do for the mare other than keep her safe. Even if she did survive the injury, her ankle would be thick and knotted; she would be the weakest link in the band aside from @Selenia’s foal. 

The water of the river burbled quietly. Fancy stood watch so that the others could drink in the waning light.