The Hidden Valley

Chapter 7: Shelter

Quail awoke to a sour smell. One that she had once smelt on a dead kangaroo.

Pain shot through her whole body, and she rapidly became awake.

Memories flooded back to her. The great storm, Ash leaving, the barn being destroyed, being dragged away by the river, then she couldn't remember.

Her brain felt fuzzy, and her legs wouldn't move when she told them to.

"Whisper, Snow Gum, Pepper?" she croaked, sand and mud filled her mouth and she spluttered. She blinked again, trying to clear her gaze.

The gentle lap of the river soaked her hindquarters as she lay half in, half out of the water. The current was calm now, nothing like last night. It was now the same river that they had played in as young foals.

"Here," mumbled the exhausted voice of Pepper. Snow Gum didn't say anything, only grunted and she could feel the hot coat of Whisper next to her.

Whisper's coat was unusually hot...

As her vision became clear, she got up, her legs shaking, and slashes scarred them. These were scars she would carry to the end of her life.

As she took in the battered remains of River Herd, she found that Pepper looked the least battered, Snow gum had a swollen lump on his leg, but insisted it was fine, Quail's legs were laced with cuts, only shallow though, but Whisper seemed the worst. Her hind leg was festering, the skin around the wound was alight with fire as she touched it, and a sour smell was rising evilly.

"Water puts out fire," she guessed in her head, so she nudged the filly's leg into the water to cool down. Not knowing that the was heaps of dirt and bacteria that would now make it worse.

"Oh, if only her mother was here, she would know what to do," though Quail sadly.

Quail felt a fresh wave of grief wash over her, stronger than the current they had fort last night.

She looked up at the sky, her eyes glassy. She could tell by the sun, that it was almost midday.

This was the time when the foals would come back to get a drink from their mothers, and now, with none, her belly grumbled. Scratching at her insides, begging for grass, milk, or anything that could fill it.

"I'm going to get some food, anyone coming?" Quail asked. The place they had washed up at was a pine forest, or it used to be at least.

The cyclone must have come through here as well.

Trees laid unearth on their sides, branched were flung everywhere, but no grass could be seen.

Quail wondered if they could eat pine needles. She had never attempted, but she felt she could eat anything at the moment.

"I'll come," groaned Pepper unenthusiastically. The normally strong and healthy filly now was no more than black fur and bones, each rib visible, hips sharp, eyes hollow. "We might be able to bring some back for Whisper and Snow Gum.

"I'm going to keep an eye on Whisper," volunteered Snow Gum. He was also unnaturally skinny.

Quail dipped her head and began to stumble to where she thought grass might be. Pepper's heavy hooves sounded behind her as they trudged through the wrecked landscape. As they looked for grass or edible shrubs, they spotted many unusual things, like red and white-spotted mushrooms, purple berries, and funny grey gang gangs. But there was no grass.

"Maybe we should give pine needles a try," Quail spoke after a while of clumsily searching. The berries and the mushrooms had a deadly scent around them, and she didn't feel like testing her luck today.

"You will never see me eating dead pine needles. But I guess the fresher ones might be okay," the black filly added with a sniff.

Pepper strolled up to one of the many fallen pines, stretching out her neck to nibble the ends of a branch.

Pepper winced but continued to eat. "They aren't that bad, they certainly don't taste harmful, but very strong."

She shook her head as if trying to clear the pungent taste from her mouth.

Quail nodded and trotted over. Clasping a spikey branch of leaves, she jerked her head down swiftly and she heard its bark splinter as it let go.

"We can take this to the others," she mumbled around the branch. Dropping it, she became aware of how silent it was.

A few birds' calls were the only sounds to be heard, no wind cooled their faces, no possums scuffled in the trees, no wild deer romped in the sunlight.

The cyclone must have driven them away. She trotted forward uneasily and took a delicate bite of the needle's softer ends then shrunk at the fowl tasted.

Pine sap was nice to smell, not to eat. "But at least it was food," she thought with a sigh.

She began to eat faster, her belly wanting more, drained of all energy.

Once the two fillies were full, they began to head back, the branch swinging mournfully between them.

They reached the shore and Snow Gum gave an amused snort.

"Oh, my friends, what a good joke, but I do need something to eat."

"You can eat pine needles," she retorted. Nudging the branch toward him.

The colt darted back as if the branch were some sort of snake.

"Don't be stupid, we need this food. Eat," Pepper huffed. "Also is Whisper, okay?" Snow Gum had been standing in front of the filly, so they had not seen her yet.

"Fine," the white foal's head drooped as if he weren't telling the whole truth. "Whisper has woken up, but she is still a little..." he trailed off, saddened in his gaze.

He stepped aside and the two fillies gasped, Whisper was sitting on her side, eyes flared in pain, crumpled into a little ball.

"Oh Whisper," Quail wailed quietly as she darted forward, hooves skidding on the pebbles smooth surfaces.

She sat there, looking around desperately. "Do you want some pine needles?" Quail asked hopefully. If she could get Whisper fed, she might heal.

Whisper's eyes were distant, and her teeth clenched in pain. She looked as if she had no idea that Quail was there.

They kept trying to get her to eat, but Whisper never opened her mouth. They stayed there at the shore until sunset, before deciding they better find shelter and move Whisper there.

Snow Gum scouted the area and came across a small nook in the side of a hill, just big enough for three of them, and so they decided that a horse would take turns guarding it while the others slept.

And so, with much effort, they moved the frail body of Whisper with them, up through the broken branches of the demolished land.

They gathered pine needles and lined the floor under the overhang.

Rabbits watched them work from in the safety of another forest of broken pines a little way off, their little whiskers quivering.

Snow Gum offered to take the first watch, and they all sunk gratefully to the slightly sodden ground.

The sun was almost completely sunk, the golden rays only just touching the top of the mountains. The mountains weren't very close, but somehow, being stuck out in the wilderness made her feel wild just like The Herds. She felt as if they had earned the right to call themselves River Herd.

As she began to think about The Herds, remembering her mother's words once more. Wattle had told her to follow the stream. And so, she decided that in the morning, she would take River Herd and set off to follow the docile waters once more...