Dear Kahlua, the painted mare that Kahlua considered nearly her twin began to speak. For a moment, memories of the time they had run through the woods like fools, playing tag, flitted through Kahlua's head. But even the stupid mare could not ignore the tones of sorrow and death that danced between Antheia's words like fairies dance in the moonlight. Antheia weaved her tale and though Kahlua could not ignore the sadness, it did not mean she understood it. Her brows furrowed as she tried to make sense of the words, but sense would not just come. She began shaking her head, at first in frustration and then in disbelief as Anthiea gave herd ying wish. I need you to watch over Feritas, Harmony and Abishia for me. Don't let me down Kahlua. Kahlua didn't even know who they were, save Harmony. Love, Antheia.

“No.” She said as the mare looked at her with teary eyes and took a step backwards. The word was a vehicle that delivered every ounce of confusion and fear and misunderstanding that the mare was feeling right now. “No!” she said again, more forcefully this time, as if she could convince the unicorn to change her mind. As Antheia looked towards the sky and then back to Kahlua, the stupid mare began prattling on again. “No! No! NO! NO! NO!” The sound started softly, raising in volume each time she said it. Even as Antheia was telling her to say goodbye to Harmony, Kahlua was still saying no. And then she was screeching it, just saying the word over and over again as Antheia took her last step backwards over the cliff.

“NO! NO! NO!” She screamed uselessly, running towards the edge of the cliff then stopping before she too fell off, rocks tickling off the edge after Antheia's body. “NOOOOO!” The hollow cry ended with a terrible, glass-shattering shriek of a whinny as Antheia's body hit the water and Kahlua backed away from the cliff side with fright and confusion in her soul. Tears that had been welling up flowed over and the mare sat and sobbed uselessly, collapsing into a heap on the ground, periodically muttering, “No, no, no,” through her sobs and hiccups. If she had been capable of thinking in that moment (or at any moment) she would have wondered why she was so terribly broken up. Antheia was a friend, but they had hardly seen each other these past few months. Was she sad for the mare's death? Was she angry that she had had responsibility forced upon her that she did not want? Was she crying for the very idea of death, and not the actual death? Perhaps it was all three. She did not know. So instead, she uselessly laid in the grass, flopped down onto her side, ribs heaving in and out as she fought for air between her terrible cries and sobs.