You grumbled as you fought your way through this forsaken forest. Everfree? More like never free. Everypony makes such a big deal about the thrill of discovery... and seemingly “forgets” to mention just how much effort it actually takes to get out there in the first place. And pain tolerance too, judging by the numerous scratches scattered across your side and underbelly.
And, of course, a large amount of luck is required as well. You had just happened to be passing through Ponyville when you had overheard somepony mentioning something about ‘the old, abandoned mine’ way out in a clearing in the middle of the forest. Now, your cutie mark may not have been for map-making and not archaeology, but everypony needs a bit of adventure in their lives, and you were no different. You had nearly lost track of how many caves you had explored and ended up sleeping in because you had gotten too far in. But not because you had lost your way, of course. The perks of a cartography cutie mark were few, but an inherent sense of direction (which means you never got lost) was quite a valuable perk, indeed.
A slow smile drifted across your face as you recalled the purple unicorn at the library that had gotten you the map to the mine. She had been pretty cute, even if a bit distracted. Scratch that--she had been a lot distracted. She had absentmindedly levitated over the old book of mpas you had asked for, and hadn’t even blinked at your request to copy the map. In fact, she had done it for you, no questions asked. Sure, it was old and wrinkled, and some parts were obviously in error (there was one small stream you just crossed that had not been marked on the map, but that was an easy fix; and the note with an arrow that said “here there be hydras” was clearly a mistake as well, as hydras were extinct in this day and age), but nothing a good cartographer like you couldn’t handle.
At any rate, you pushed your way through the brush and suddenly found yourself in a large, dirt field, as if somepony had just carved out a circle in the forest. A smile crossed your face as you realized you were one step closer to your prize--a large, unassuming hole in the ground that the map said should be within fifty meters. Or, if the sign and yellow caution fabric were any indicator, it was only thirty meters ahead. You crossed the field, scanning the ground as you went. A small snort of disappointment left your nose as you saw hoofprints in the dust. Well, it’s not like you were expecting to be the first here, anyway. After all, it had been closed for nigh on fifty years. And besides, it’s not who’s first, it’s who’s best. And it’s not like you were actually expecting to find gold. This was just a bit of an adventure. And who better to go adventure-er-ing than you, the second-greatest explorer after Daring Do?
After that small stroke of your ego (soon rendered moot as you realized that you had just felt pride after comparing yourself to a literary character that didn’t actually exist), you finally arrived at the entrance itself. You ducked under the protective tape, ignoring the sign warning any comers to keep out. With a defiant smirk in the face of danger, you pulled out a long, metal spike from your saddlebags.
Teleportation was never your strong point. Every unicorn can do telekinesis to some extent, but teleportation in its true form took a lot more strength than the average unicorn had. Although you had tried often (more than once your backside had been the recipient of many bruises from climbing up a rope and slipping off, and you would have liked nothing more than the ability to teleport to your destination), you for some reason had the bad habit of splinching your target. While that was terrible for just moving about everything else, it made it very easy to form an anchor point. You stood the spike on its end, lit your horn, and tried to teleport it about half a meter forward. Sure enough, when you opened your eyes, the spike was nearly buried in the dirt, a few hooves to the left of where you were aiming. You weren’t quite sure just how you managed to pull that one off, but after a quick tug with your teeth, the pole was proved to be securely buried in the ground. With a quick glow of your horn, a rope flew out of your bag; and, with practiced movements, you tied a firm knot around the stake. A quick jerk with your teeth to ensure it was safe, and you were ready to descend. Wrapping both forehooves around the rope, you step down into the abyss.
Hoof over hoof, balancing the majority of your weight on the rock wall, you descended, making a very strong effort to not look down. Climbing down any hole is difficult. Pegasi may like the air, but you didn’t; you liked your unicorn hooves firmly on the ground. Fortunately, you soon arrived at the ground. Unfortunately, it was because you miswrapped the rope around your right foreleg and it slipped out, leaving you without an anchor point and sending you freefalling to the ground.
You sat up, groaning, amidst a small cloud of dust and little pebbles. Once your vision stopped swimming and the little Princess Celestias stopped flying around your head, you checked your injuries. You were now sporting a rope burn on your left foreleg, yet another bruise decorated your flank, and a healthy chunk of your pride was missing. Did Daring Do ever miss a rope? No, she would never do something as amateur as that.
Then again, she was a pegasus. And she didn’t exist, so, no, she would never land on her butt after falling down a hole. Stupid Daring Do.
Slowly pushing yourself to your hooves, you take in your surroundings. Looks fairly safe, you thought, casting a careful eye towards the ceiling. Stalicites dripped, but there were no forboding cracks. Looking forward, there were two tunnels cut into the rock, and both left at about a forty-five degree angle from each other. And behind you... You rolled your eyes. There was a ladder here, cut into the rock. Well, after fifty years, it probably wasn’t stable, anyway. What had that unicorn said? Something about a lot of earthquakes recently?
You shook your head and looked at the two passageways. When you had two choices, there was always one method of choosing that had never let you down yet.
The bit flew through the air, and when it fell, it rolled for a while until finally landing on the image of the Royal Pony Sisters. Looks like this time you chose right. Lighting your horn, you walked forward into the great unknown. In all honesty, it probably wasn’t that great, but saying that in your head just made you feel better.
You walked down the tunnel, watching the ceiling for cracks, scanning the ground for glints of gold (though it was highly doubtful there would be any there), basically looking all around for anything of note, just like a real explorer.
But unlike the explorers in books, there weren’t any traps, there weren’t any hidden treasures, there wasn’t anything sparkling to catch your eye. That was fine, though. The thrill of the exploration itself was just fine.
You continued down the tunnel, taking the sights and just all around enjoying yourself, until the path disappeared. Literally, it disappeared. The floor fell away as the tunnel opened up into a large cavern, large enough to swallow up the light from your horn.
You skidded to a stop and looked down. There were formerly some wooden stairs here, but either time or earthquakes had collapsed them, and it was way too far to jump.
And this, you mused, is why I come prepared. Taking a safe step back, you pulled another stake from your saddlebags, held it up, and imagined it appearing in the ground in front of you.
But alas, one successful teleportation seemed to be your limit. It appeared again, but two meters in front of you. Since the tunnel only continued for one meter, it merely fell, useless, to the ground.
You let out a snort of annoyance. At least the sound that resonated when it hit the ground told you that it wasn’t too deep. Pulling out another stake, you triedagain... to the same result.
You sat down, wondering if you should give up this tunnel, or risk your last stake. Curiosity won, and you pulled it out. As you held it vertically, you paused. What if you tried to send it into the wall? It would look just like a ladder. You switched the stake so you’ were holding it horizontally, and closed your eyes and concentrated. When you opened them again, there was a stake embedded into the wall, looking a little bit like a torch-holder, but much sturdier.
You let out a slight whoop of celebration as you lifted the rope from your bag. Being very cautious not to aggravate the bruise from earlier, you wrapped the rope around and gently descend.
Much to your surprise, you landed safely. No bumps, no bruises, and no problems. You smiled in self-congratulations before slicing the rope with a quick wave of your horn, leaving plenty for the climb back up. As much as you would have liked to merely levitate yourself up, you just didn’t have the magic or the power; and you were pretty sure you’d need the rest of the rope later.
Your eyes widened as you followed this tunnel, the light from your horn revealing things hidden for years. This part had obviously been underneath some wood slats and railways, judging by the debris everywhere. Twisted railing, broken boards, and mine carts in various states of disarray littered the room.
Coming across one cart that was in good shape, you were vaguely tempted to hop in one and re-enact that one scene from Daring Do and the Silver Temple, but that would have been silly. Still, you couldn’t help but take a peek inside. Your eyes widened as you saw a glint of purple on a cracked dark rock on the bottom. A gem! Today was indeed a good day! Levitating it gently, you placed it into your saddlebags. You were half tempted to leave right then, but a deeper curiosity lifted its head and pushed you deeper into the mine. This was a gold mine, after all, so the gems might have been mere extras to the larger treasure.
This next tunnel started ascending. You climbed up, pretty pleased with how this was going. Up was always nicer than down.
This next passageway seemed to open up wider. You stepped over broken boards, twisted metal scraps, a broken miner’s helmet, a chain or tw-
Wait. Miner’s helmet?
You retraced your step back to where you saw the helmet. Stepping forward, you picked it up. It was a pretty typical helmet, with a little inset on the front covered with a thin sheet of metal, likely for holding and reflecting the light from a candle or light-crystal. You tried to put it on, but it hung awkwardly to one side, as it had no hole for your horn. Probably made for an earth pony--pegasi wouldn’t be caught dead underground. You tossed it behind you, and as you watched it roll away, the light glinted off the metal reflector plate and illuminated something you had not expected.
You let out a shriek of surprise as a skull flashed into view. Channeling a little more power into the light spell, you saw the heavily decomposed skeleton, covered in tatters of what had formerly been mining overalls. Unbidden, the climax of Daring Do and the Revenge of the Mummy sprang to mind, with its riveting, spine-tingling chase scene climax of an injured Daring Do trying to outrun an army of living skeletons. Slowly, your breath calmed, as you remembered that, once again, Daring Do didn’t exist, and neither did reanimated skeletons. Now a bit calmer, you investigated a bit further. Its skull had been cracked, probably from being hit from behind by something large and blunt. The skeleton lay as if he had been standing and just collapsed. Probably got blindsided by the cave-in, you thought. Poor guy.
You stood up, not sure if you should say a few words or just move on. The silence did not want to be broken, though, and you merely stood respectfully and turned to continu-
Your heart jumped into your throat as three more skeletons phased into view. Once you were certain that they, too, were unmoving and your breath had calmed down again (seriously... you were pretty sure you’d lost a year of your life right there!), you took a closer look.
These three were dressed in similar tatters. Though you were no Equestrian Field Services and Technical Evidence Team member, they certainly looked to be the same age as the first one. Oddly enough, though, your first impression was that these two were different. They seemed... calm? At peace? Relaxed? Strange... if they had died in the cave-in like the first one had, they sure had taken it really well.
Now very creeped out, you continued walking. To be perfectly honest, all caves kindof looked the same from the inside. See, you have the stone walls, the dark atmosphere, the damp condensation, the dripping water from who knows where, the spike with your rope on it, and of course, there were always a few bats for good me-
Come again?
You swung back, staring intently at the archway in front of you. Sure enough, a very familiar-looking stake was embedded into the wall, with a very familiar rope and a very familiar cavern up ahead.
How did... you quickly checked your internal map. You didn’t deviate, you didn’t turn, and since you hadn’t used a compass, there certainly hadn’t been any magnetic interference to distract you. You shook your head in confusion. Your cartography mark didn’t lie. So why was what was supposed to be way back there suddenly right up here?
You look back over your shoulder, and forward again. Well, there was always the odd chance that somepony else had left it, but that was really unlikely. You swallowed nervously before taking the rope in your mouth, tasting the familiar roughness of your rope. Hey, didn’t they say that the only way out is through? That catchphrase had certainly worked for Daring Do; it couldn’t hurt to try it yourself. Re-adjusting your grip of the rope, you descended again.
Luckily, this time you didn’t hurt your bruise when you wrapped the rope around your forehoof. To your shock, however, when you hit the end of the rope, your hooves didn’t touch the ground.
You could have sworn you had cut it the right length... never mind. The ground had to be close. You were briefly reminded of the time little colt you thought you were drowning in a pool, only to realize that the water was shallow enough that all you had to do was stand. The ground was probably right underneath you. Unlooping your hooves, you unclenched your teeth and fell.
Ten feet.
It took you about five minutes before your head stopped spinning enough to get up again. Painfully, you staggered to your hooves. You gave yourself a quick once-over. Heavy bruising, especially along your flank area. Small cuts littered your hind legs. A deep gash along your right foreleg, with blood trailing down, but nothing a little direct pressure couldn’t fix. A bruise on your tail that probably was probably going to last a month.
Once you were certain that you were not dying, you examined your surroundings. As you lifted your head, your jaw dropped. This was definitely not the same cavern as before, unless somepony had the ability to bring in an entire sluicebox and washing machine, complete with ancient rust, frayed belts, and chipped gears, in without you hearing anything. Oh, and lower the roof. They would have needed to do that, too.
You wandered around, wondering who would bring such a thing down here, how well it worked, was there any gold in those waters, and--sweet Celestia, is that a pony?
Sure enough, an earth pony stallion hung from a top observation platform, up by where the water entered at the top for washing the dirt. He had been there a while, judging by the state of decay. He wasn’t dressed in miner’s clothes; he wasn’t wearing anything besides a noose around his neck. You squinted to take a better look. You weren’t sure which was more horrifying--the fact that he had been hanged, or the fact that a thin smile was spread across his face.
Shivering, you abandoned that room and continued on. The cavern seemed to diminish into three tunnels. You decided to spin a stake for choosing the path, and it landed on the center one. Gritting your teeth and hoping you didn’t find another dead body, you started walking.
This tunnel seemed to curve a lot. Normally, this wouldn’t have been much of a concern, but then again, you had never gotten lost before, and you were still disturbed at how lost you had become.
And if it was even your fault you had gotten lost.The cartography had saved you in all the caves before, why had this mine been different?
You shook your head and continued walking. Your light spell lit up wet caverns, but nothing else of note.
Soon, the tunnel began to descend again. You set your jaw and kept walking, passing broken boards, broken rocks, and broken tools. Discarded picks shone dully in your light every now and then.
Just as you were starting to despair of ever getting out of this linear corridor, it began to open out again. You descended into a large room, this one with a small stream and tiny pond at the other end. Looking to your left, you saw that there was another set of broken boards, as if they had once formed a staircase, and on the landing above it was... the exit! You saw the first room you had entered with its two paths right there, and your rope still hung from the stake outside, trailing down like a gift from Celestia herself.
Now, how to get up there? You walked closer, quickly realizing that it was way too far to jump, and certainly too far to consider rebuilding the stairs.
Not that you could, anyway. Even if your flank had been graced with the world’s best carpentry cutie mark, the wood was too wet and decayed to be good for building. You doubted it would even make for good firewood.
You reached for a stake, only to remember that you had teleported your last two over the edge into the room with the sluiceboxes, and had forgotten to retrieve them.
You were half-tempted to slam your head against the wall from your stupidity, but your body quickly protested, saying that it had been through quite enough pain for today, thank you very much. So you settled for lowering your head and sprinting back through the corridor you had just come from.
The long, wet corridor that left your fur damp.
The corridor that seemed much longer than before.
The corridor that wasn’t ending.
The corridor that still wasn’t ending.
You slowly stopped, checking your internal map. Even accounting for the uphill gradient (a very slight 3 degrees, on average), you had run at least a length and a half of what you had walked to get here.
So where was the room with the sluiceboxes? The room with the hanged stallion? The room with your stakes and the only key to freedom?
This time, your body was ok with the idea of you hitting your head against the cave wall. What was wrong here? Why was your internal map not working? Where was the room? And why, oh why was the exit so darn close? All you had now were one gem, broken rocks, broken picks, broken dreams, broken hopes, almost a broken tail, too, and a broken-
And apparently, a broken brain. You turn back down the corridor the way you came, a smile spreading across your face. The wooden part of the picks wouldn’t hold weight very well, but the metal parts should serve as stakes just fine. Turn them upside down, and the natural curve of the pick would even help keep the rope on.
So, five minutes later, you entered that large cavern with the pond again, this time carrying the four picks you had managed to find in the corridor. Standing in front of the ledge that was the only thing keeping you from freedom, you smile as you lifted the first pick. Closing your eyes (maybe this was why you kept missing? you briefly wondered), you attempted to teleport the pick head into the wall.
And, this time, it worked. One pick head, jutting out of the wall, at perfect height for you to climb up and crawl out. Unfortunately, it suddenly occurred to you that it was way too high up for you to grab, and you had forgotten to tie on the rope.
Ah well. Nothing a little levitation couldn’t fix. You lit your horn again and tied what was left of your rope around the end. You then turned to grab for it, only to realize that the piece of rope that you had left was too short--by about three lengths.
A small curse slipped your lips. Looks like you were going to have to do this piecewise. Screwing up your face in concentration, you lifted the second pick head and let the magic flow. You let out a cheer of celebration as you realized that the second had also gone in relatively well. It was a bit to the side, and a bit deeper than the first one, but would serve just as well.
Picking up a third one, you aimed and let the magic flow. As if Celestia herself were smiling on you, it too stood happily in the wall. You let out a small laugh of celebration. Frankly, you’d had enough of this mine for a while.
You pulled the rope down with magic, and re-tied the knot on the lowest peg. Pulling it tight, you grabbed on and started to climb, intending to get to the pick and stand on it as a ladder of sorts. With a little flailing and a large bit of luck, you pulled yourself onto the makeshift step and laughed triumphantly. Looking down (wow, that was pretty far, wasn’t it?), you untied the rope with magic and lifted it up to tie onto the second pick.
Which would have worked well, had the pick head you were standing on not snapped in half. You fell again, luckily not as far this time, and managed to land, rather painfully, on your hooves. Groaning in pain, you straightened up, looking at the half of the pick head that had accompanied you on your downward journey.
Rusted. Rusted all the way through.
Well, it had worked once, hadn’t it? You did have one more pick head. Now nervous, you lifted it and examined it. This one seemed to be in pristine condition. Maybe. After all, you were a cartographer, not a miner.
Holding it up, you lit your horn and hoped that your luck would hold. You closed your eyes and let the magic flow.
When you opened them, you still only saw two picks in the wall. Puzzled, you turned around, as if expecting to see it behind you, but no... your aim wasn’t that bad... Sure, you may have had the bad habit of sending objects too far to one side now and again, and of course, your little problem of sending it too far forwards...
Oh.
Oh no.
Oh, no, no no no.
To your horror, you realized that your last attempt had made the pick appear inside the rock wall. Completely inside the wall. As in, completely splinched inside the rock; unretrievable and useless to you now.
You exhaled shakily and turned back to face the cavern. Daring Do had said that the only way out was through, and this time you certainly hoped she was right, because there was no way you were getting out this way.
You began walking across the cavern. The sounds of the dripping water sent chills up your spine. Since the best way to stop being afraid of something is to learn about it, you decided to see if you could find the source.
Sure enough, it came from the wall. The water trickled down from a small hole in the wall, and congregated at one end. You scanned the flowing water, looking for any telltale flash of gold or, even better, something else to use as an anchor point. You arrived at the large puddle and sighed. Luck had not been on your side, and there was nothing besides water to be found. Ah well. At least there was water, and you were a bit thirsty, anyway.
As you leaned closer to the water to take a sip, your eyes happened to look up. To your utter astonishment, a yellow filly’s face appeared in your vision. Although you later would deny that this actually happened, you screamed a sound that would be more at home coming from a schoolyard full of fillies than a colt like yourself, and stumbled backwards, flailing to get away.
Once you caught your breath, you realized something important--the filly was not moving, and her eyes were closed. Lifting a hoof, you gently nudged her. The large, red bow on the back of her head fell off and slipped to the ground as if defeated, but she didn’t move.
She was dead. You bit your lip in indecision as you wiped your hoof off on your jacket. The other ponies you had seen had been dead for some time, but this filly seemed to have passed on much more recently. The proper thing to do, of course, was to get her out of here and get her properly buried; but honestly, trotting into town with a dead filly on your back was not a first impression you cared to make. And that was assuming you could even find your way out, but you quickly pushed that distressing thought out of your mind, turning instead to focus on the present situation.
So how did she die? Morbid curiosity battled with your weak stomach and desire to leave, but curiosity eventually won. After all, you didn’t make the best maps of the Whitetail woods by turning around every time you saw something strange.
You hopped over the small puddle and circled her body. She was a young, earth pony filly, still without her cutie mark. She lay by the water, but you didn’t think she had drowned. In fact, judging by the fact that it looked as though she had removed the rocks from her general area, it seemed as though she had simply lain down and died, perhaps in her sleep.
It suddenly occurred to you that the water might have been the cause of death.You licked your lips nervously, realizing that you might have met her same fate. But theories meant nothing in your line of work--maps were made by going out and seeing for yourself, not guesswork or assumptions. Pulling out a glass that had thankfully not been broken, you scooped up some water and held it in your hooves. Screwing up your eyes in concentration, you lit your horn and began to cast the spell. It was a simple spell, really. If there were large contaminants, like poison or heavy metals, the water would glo-
You let out another yelp of surprise as the water flared brightly, with the brightness compounded by being underground. In your shock, you dropped the flask, sending glass shards and water flying everywhere. It had certainly looked brighter than the sun, at least to your eyes.
Well, that was it. It was contaminated. With what, you couldn’t say. Probably heavy metals like gold, silver, maybe lead. Maybe. If... when you got back to Ponyville, maybe you could go find that cute librarian and check out a book on mining.
Slightly disturbed at how quickly you had gotten comfortable around the dead filly, you determined at least to show some respect, and pulled a towel out from your saddlebags and laid it on top of her head reverently. Now to keep moving.
This tunnel seemed to go further, but thankfully it wasn’t descending again. This one was flat and level, something you and your sore hooves appreciated. Suddenly, the ground disappeared from in front of you.
You stuck your tongue out in disgust. That happened in this mine far too often for your liking.
And another thing soon happened that was happening far too often, too. Looking down, you saw that there was a hole in the ground, as if a giant sinkhole had suddenly appeared in the tunnel. Strange, that that could happen in a rock tunnel. Perhaps there were more tunnels further down, and this one had collapsed into the one beneath it.
But that wasn’t what was so disturbing. What was disturbing was the sight of two bodies in the bottom of the hole. A small orange pegasus held on to a small white unicorn. Both were young fillies, about the age of the yellow one from before.
You channeled more magic into the light spell, lighting up the darkness. Neither flinched, neither moved, neither breathed. They, too, were dead. They lay together, their heads furthest from you, and the orange one had obviously been comforting the white one. Both seemed... resigned. Not worried, not desperate, but resigned to their fates. Not something one would expect from such young fillies.
This was, to put it nicely, slightly disturbing. You frowned, trying to decide what to do. Your rope certainly wasn’t long enough to go get them, and they looked so peaceful there anyway. The path was blocked by the hole, and unless you happened to sprout wings, you weren’t getting across.
You sighed and turned back around. Maybe you had missed another passageway in the cavern with the yellow filly.
You walked for a while, scanning the walls for any indication of another path, maybe an exit. Lower and lower you descended, desperately searching for something, anything you might have missed. Anything that could help you get out of this place.
Wait.
The path that had led from the filly and pond cavern to the sinkhole had been level.
Your mind snapped, and you began sprinting deeper and deeper into the mine. Your head hurt as your internal map tried--and failed--to match up to what you were seeing. Blindly running, you didn’t notice a rock in the way, and you tripped and fell, sliding headlong through wet gravel and dirt.
You lay there for a while, groaning in pain, before slowly lifting yourself up. To your astonishment, you were back in the room with the sluicebox machine, complete with hanged stallion and your spikes!
Laughing like a mad stallion, you scurried through the room and around the machine, picking up your spikes as if they held the key to your escape. You grabbed both and clenched them to your chest, looking around fearfully as if somepony were to attempt to take them from you.
Eventually, your breathing calmed, and you placed the spikes back in your saddlebags. Maybe there was gas down here, and it had thrown off your sense of perception. Mines didn’t just go on forever, after all; there were exits. You had gotten this far, you could surely return. You picked up your head and began walking out of that cavern. It was a simple step down, barely two feet. Some little part of your mind protested that, saying that you had had to jump down to get into that cavern through that exit, and therefore had no business jumping down again to get out, but you shushed that voice and continued on.
This tunnel was narrower and not as tall. As you walked, your saddlebags scraped against the sides of the walls. No matter. You were going to get out of here.
Suddenly, the tunnel opened up again. Briefly wondering why so many tunnels seemed to do that recently, you lit your horn brighter... and gasped.
Crystals. Crystals everywhere. Pink ones, green ones, purple ones, your light reflected off them and they shone brilliantly in the darkness.
How beautiful...
You walked through this cavern, admiring the crystals. No wonder ponies came down here.
But soon enough, the cavern ended, and you had the choice of two tunnels to take. Smiling slightly at the repeat of events, you pulled out your bit and flipped. The back came up top this time, and so you headed down the left tunnel, leaving behind the crystal cavern.
This tunnel ascended slightly, before leveling out. You walked along the flat surface, scanning for exits that weren’t there. You continued until, once again, the ground disappeared from underneath you. You growled, slightly annoyed that this had happened again. Channeling more magic into the light spell, you looked down, and saw a sinkhole in the ground.
And in that hole were the bodies of two fillies. One was an orange pegasus, the other was a white unicorn. They lay together, with the orange one comforting the white one, and their heads were furthest from you.
You stared.
And soon enough, an awful epiphany hit you. Slowly, you turned back and headed towards the crystal cavern again, but you knew that when you exited this tunnel, it wouldn’t be there. You walked slowly, in a daze, as the horrible truth resounded in your head. It hit you, just as it had hit these two fillies who had given up all hope of being rescued, just as it had hit the yellow filly who realized that she could not help her friends, just as it hit the stallion who had hanged himself to escape it, just as it had hit the miners who killed their friend for a few last moments of peace.
The mine was not yours.
You were its.
And it was never going to let you go.