Not The First

She was gone.

Sparkle was gone. Just like that.

I was alone again.

I sat with her for a long time. I don't know how long. I know that, when I moved, she was starting to cool. And I was stiff.

The potion, when it exploded, it did a number on our little home. Bodies were everywhere. Parts of bodies, too. After so long, I wasn't grossed out. Much.

Fluids were everywhere, too. The pool had been blown away. Slowly, they were trickling back into the center. Forming again. Like nothing happened. Like it didn't matter.

Maybe it didn't.

I found my saddle bags, better late than never. They'd been shredded. But still, useful fabric. And the tools were still there. Some of them.

The fire was gone.

All my books and journals, scattered. The ink was gone. The quills.

My still.

Amazingly, I found one bowl. One skull of water that hadn't tipped over or broke, that had just been pushed back, and still had its life-saving content.

But everything else. Everything I'd worked so hard to build, the things that would keep me going for months-

Gone.

I was tempted to lie down in the center of the sphere and wait for the pool to rise back up and drown me. I was tempted to slice my forelegs open with a shiv. I was tempted to bash my brain under a rock.

I didn't.

I don't know why.

My timers are gone. Broken. I have no idea how long I've been here.

I slept a little. I didn't eat. Didn't drink.

I tried finding parts to rebuild. Water first. Always water.

But I could only manage to find one bottle.

One bottle.

I needed a fire.

I had no wood. Not even sticks. The most flammable thing I had was hair, and most of the hair on most of the bodies was covered in dampness; from rot, or from being showered by the explosion.

So no fire.

No fire, no still. No water.

No life.

Enjoy the time we have left, Sparkle said. I should've listened. We should've done what she wanted. Now she was gone.

And I was here. Alone.

With no water.

No hope.