She needed to start marking places where medicinal herbs grew. She’d found last autumn that some herbs could be dried to last longer. With the weather warming up now she could afford to go through all her supplies and see what was still viable. Did medicine go bad?

“Thistle, my mane is not a bunch of reeds!” Pink’s scolding tone startled her out of her thoughts.

“Oh, whoops!” She eased on the tugging. She was meant to be braiding Pink’s mane with the blue flowers that had come up on Lookout Hill. “Sorry, Pink.”

“It’s fine.” Pink rolled her shoulders. “Just hurry up so I can do yours.”

“Um, why do you want these things put in your mane, Healer Burr? They’re not very pretty, or yummy.” Summer Showers asked shyly, holding up strips of bark.

“They’re medicine, or used in medicine.” Thistle explained. “I like to carry as much as I can for emergencies. And you can call me Thistle, if you want.”

“Dam would want me to show you proper respect.” Summer shook her head, leaning forward to pull Thistle’s mane back. Light laid behind her, ready to start on Summer’s mane. All four of them sat in a circle, grooming out tangles so their manes could be braided with their chosen adornments.

“Marsh Steps,” Thistle sighed. She had all the tangles out of Pink’s mane now.

“She and Holly Berry mean well.” Light smiled serenely. “They’ve both done well collecting seeds for planting.”

“Yeah,” She had to give them that. Having followers was useful. Thistle would never have been able to collect all those seeds by herself. Now on top of the oat field they had a field for radishes, a tuber called a potato, and carrots. Marsh Steps was going to have a hard time keeping animals out of the fields once everything started growing.

“You’re not still thinking about Hope Springs, are you?” Pink asked in concern.

“Not at the moment,” The Leads had taken it well. Shiny Rock had been furious though. She didn’t like it when ponies weren’t where they were supposed to be, even ponies who exiled themselves.

“Her words show wisdom.” Rock Slide huffed as she recounted Hope Spring’s reasoning. “There are ponies I’ve met in the past who would gladly run the stallions here off and take the mares for their own for what we have.”

There were ponies who would do that. There were ponies who would see what they were building here and, instead of sharing it, would want to steal it. The idea made her sick.

“Do you think she’ll come back?” Summer’s hooves grew still. There was a piece of bark itching at the back of her neck and it was taking every ounce of Thistle’s willpower to not scratch it.

“Uh, have you ever seen that mare?” Pink scoffed. “She eats fire birds for lunch! I give her a year tops before she’s back with the head of a hydra or something.”

“I bet she’ll have good stories to share!” Light lit up.

Thistle had heard some of Hope’s stories. She hadn’t shared them with Light.

“I’m done, Pink.” She tied off the hemp string knot. The soft blue flowers looked nice in her orange mane.

“I wish we had some darker flowers for you, Light.” Pink sighed, picking out another pink one for Light’s braid. Pink and yellow flowers were braided throughout. Darker flowers would match her coat better.

“I think they look very nice.” Summer assured her.

“I don’t really care.” Light shrugged. “I can barely see flowers anyway.”

“Not saying you don’t look pretty, but darker ones would look better. Thistle, you agree with me, right?” Pink nudged her.

“I like the yellow ones.” Thistle smirked, enjoying the way Pink threw her hooves up in faux-disgust.

“You’re getting bark braided into your mane, you’re not allowed to have an opinion on flowers anymore.” Pink declared.

They laughed, letting Light and Summer finish off their braids. Thistle shook her head back and forth, trying to get used to the scratchy feeling.

“Tails next?” Summer grinned.

“Healer! Healer!” Thistle stiffened. Pine Needle was in a full gallop up the hill. The four fillies rushed to meet him half way.

“Pine, what’s wrong?” She stopped him, checking him for cuts or bruises. But if Pine Needle was the one running for help, then Soft Touch was the one who needed help. “Where’s your sister?”

“The big, broken rock! That mean stallion’s hurting her!” He cried.

“I know the rock he means, it’s between here and the fruit forest.” Light told her.

“Summer, watch Pine, get a stallion.” A mean stallion, Pine said? Had another herd found them already? She pressed the colt into Summer’s side and took off running, Pink and Light close behind her.

The broken rock wasn’t far, just a two minute gallop. Thistle lowered her head as she charged. All she saw of the stallion was his dark brown coat mounting himself on Soft Touch before Thistle tackled his side. Pink followed up by stomping on his barrel when he tried to get up.

Thistle reared, flashing her hooves threateningly. She let the stallion roll out of the way of her blows. She and Pink placed themselves in front of Soft Touch while the stallion climbed to his hooves.

She recognized this stallion. His name was Cliff Face.

“Thistle, she’s hurt!” Light reported. Thistle craned her neck around and saw Soft Touch, really saw her. She was trembling and there were tear tracts in her fur. There was blood on her neck where’d he’d bit her.

“She’s a mare! Not a foal!” Cliff Face spat. “I’m fully in my rights to claim her now!”

“Soft Touch isn’t a mare!” Thistle growled.

“She’s in heat!” She heard Soft Touch whimper at his words.

“Her first heat and you mount her like an animal!” Pink snarled, dragging her hoof through the dirt.

“I AM—!” Cliff Face’s expression twisted to sick rage.

“Dead!” Bright Finish came barreling past her. Thistle had a split second to enjoy the look on that monster’s face before Bright Finish slammed into it. She looked over her shoulder to see who else had arrived.

Rock Slide, Oak Leaf, Current, Moss Glade, Riverbank, Woodpecker and Tree Stump, Hornet, every stallion in the herd was here bearing spears and dark looks.

“Enough!” Rock Slide grabbed Bright Finish by the mane and pulled him off Cliff Face. Given they were almost equal in size it couldn’t have been easy to pull the enraged stallion off. Oak Leaf and Tree Stump moved to stop Bright Finish from finishing what he started. The Lead Stallion looked down at the bloodied mess left at his hooves and for a moment Thistle believed she was about to witness a culling.

But he stayed his hooves.

“Healer, tell us what happened here.” He commanded.

“Yes, Lead Stallion.” She stepped out of her combative stance. “Myself, Pink Peach, Dim Light, and Summer Showers were on Lookout Hill when Pine Needle came to us at a gallop, crying that his sister was in danger due to a stallion. I left Pine Needle with Summer and led my friends here, believing Soft Touch was under attack by an enemy stallion. We did not hesitate to force him off her and only recognized him after we separated them. He forced himself on her because she entered her first heat and he wanted to claim her.”

“That is not how claiming is done!” Bright lashed his tail.

“Heat means she’s a mare! That means she can follow me!” Cliff Face defended himself.

“Mare or no, it’s against herd law to force a following.” Rock Slide spoke coldly. “I for one do not take it lightly. Oak Leaf, Moss Glade, confine him to his hut until I decide what to do with him.”

“Decide what to do with me? Me? I’m a stallion! A warrior!” Cliff Face shied away from the spears aimed at him.

“Healer,” Thistle turned back to the Lead Stallion. “Tend to Soft Touch. Pink Peach, go to True Blue and tell her what happened here.”

“Yes, Lead Stallion.” They both nodded obediently. Pink ran off immediately while Thistle turned to face Soft Touch fully.

“Soft Touch?” She stepped a little closer. Her sides were heaving and she wouldn’t look up from the ground. Thistle wanted to treat her here and now but…

But not when they could still hear Cliff Face spewing his poison.

“Let’s go back to your hut.” She suggested, gently nudging Soft Touch into motion when she didn’t move. Step by step, walking around the village rather than through it.

They passed an overturned basket that Thistle picked up. It still had a few soft green hairs from Soft Touch’s coat.

“Alright, you’re safe now.” Thistle breathed easier when they could shut the door behind them. Thistle built up the small fire a little brighter. That done, she pulled a water basket forward and leaned in to look at the bites.

“Where’s Pine Needle?” Soft Touch stiffened when Thistle brushed her mane away from the bite marks. Cliff Face had not been gentle.

“He’s with Summer Showers. I’ll get him for you after I tend your wounds.” She promised. Soft Touch nodded, letting her wounds be cleaned and treated in silence. When Thistle had finished wrapping the plantain bandages where necessary, she looked at Soft Touch’s flanks.

“Does it hurt, back there?” Her cheeks flushed. Enduring had told her everything that went on in foal making, but suddenly the words felt vulgar.

“It hurts.” Soft Touch stared at the wall. Thistle didn’t ask her to expand on it, only helped her to stand so she could see everything fully. Her flanks were tender, developing bruises, but there was a little stream of blood leaking from her vagina, mixed with a white fluid.

She didn’t know how to treat this. Loco roots were for deep, long-lasting pains. Could those work for this? Or did she need something stronger and more immediate?

She took a deep breath, regretting it as she took in the full musky-wet scent of Soft Touch’s heat. The first step to treating any wound was to clean it.

It would be easier if she could use something other than her hoof. She refused to use her mouth. She pulled some of the relaxing herbs from her baskets for Soft Touch to chew on while she worked.

“I hate him.” She didn’t need to ask who Soft Touch was talking about.

“I hate him too.” She hoped Cliff Face got everything that was coming to him.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

True Blue watched as Cliff Face was marched before her. Three stallions held their spears pointed at him, the rest stood with cold looks. The mares of the herd were likewise gathered, pawing at the ground and tossing their manes whenever they caught his eye.

Rock Slide stood beside her, solid and reassuring. She flicked her tail. They exchanged one look before Rock Slide stepped forward.

“My ponies!” His voice boomed. “We are here because a pony among us has broken herd law and attempted to force himself on a new mare, fresh in her first heat. Our Healer tends her wounds even now and this stallion awaits his punishment! We, your Leads, will decide his fate!”

There was a rapturous stomping of hooves. The mares of the herd looked positively frenzied. ‘Good.’ True Blue allowed herself a thin smile. When Pink Peach had told her what happened the first thought that appeared in her mind was that the victim was her older daughter. The fear and rage that consumed her mind had shocked her.

But Honest Day was a grown mare with a foal of her own now. Not a new mare.

Still, the idea that it could have been her made True’s vision go red.

“Following is a time honored tradition. It separates us from the animals.” True spoke clearly so the whole herd could hear. “The laws of Following are clear. It must be agreed upon by two consenting adults. Anything otherwise is rape.”

“Rape is a terrible crime. It discourages the victim from bearing or siring foals, and thus threatens the longevity of the herd. In some cases it can even cause the victim to become barren.” She narrowed her eyes at the sullen stallion before her. “Rape against an adult is punished by banishment from the herd. Rape against a foal is punishable by death.”

“My ponies, this stallion committed the crime of rape today.” She declared. “As much as I would like to see his skull smashed beneath the Lead Stallion’s hooves and his body left out for the vultures, I regret to say he did not rape a foal, but a mare. So his punishment is decided.”

“Henceforth,” Rock Slide lifted his hoof, prepared to deliver judgement. “The stallion known as Cliff Face is banished from this herd and our lands! He will be run out beyond the borders of the valley by myself and any volunteers. If he should ever return he will be killed without mercy. Who volunteers to help me run this enemy from our lands?”

“I volunteer!” Bright Finish hefted his spear menacingly.

“I volunteer!” Oak Leaf announced.

One by one, ponies volunteered.

“You banish me? Fine!” Cliff Face’s eyes were wild. “Run me out! You’ll wish you had killed me!”

“My ponies, run this enemy from our lands!” True Blue reared. Cliff Face bolted towards the east and was pursued by easily half the herd. True watched until he was out of sight, coldly satisfied.

There was a flash. True blinked, recognizing it as the Light-That-Wasn’t. But she did not feel faint.

“True,” Shiny Rock’s mouth fell open. “You have a mark.”

Slowly, True turned her head until she could see her own flank. There, bold as the sunrise, was the blazing red form of a bird of prey descending with its talons outstretched.

She lifted her eyes and scanned the herd.

“It seems the theory that Thistle Burr is somehow bestowing the marks is wrong.” She commented idly.

“So it would seem.” Shiny chuckled sardonically. “Congratulations, Lead Mare.”

“I will be returning to my home now.” She decided. “I’m sure Bluebell must be hungry by now, and I left Pink Peach to watch her until judgement was passed.”

“Good day then, True.” Shiny inclined her head. “I’d best see to my own filly. Mother Earth knows my group isn’t the most responsible.”
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Thistle left Soft Touch’s hut as quietly as she was able. Soft Touch was drugged to a happy slumber, with a basket of food and water nearby and her brother tucked in to her side. Thistle would be back tomorrow, and the day after. For now, she closed the door behind her and tried not to wake them.

Outside, the sun was lowering itself below the horizon. Stunning reds, oranges, and pinks lit up the sky. Most ponies were returning to their homes now. Would the chasers have returned from running Cliff Face out yet?

By habit, her hooves carried her to Hope Springs’ door. Even knowing it was empty, she still pushed the door open to peer inside. There was a basket and a spare spear inside, but nothing else to say a pony had ever lived here.

Thistle closed the door and moved on.

Her family’s hut was warm and inviting. Enduring wasn’t there to ask about her day or dispense advice, but she still had her family. They’d be okay.

“Thistle!” Cam cheered and ran up to hug her as she came in.

“Mountain and Hornet are still out chasing Cliff Face.” Morning explained the two empty places in their circle.

He ran east and there was a pass beyond the fruit orchard. At a gallop it would take about four hours. The chasers wouldn’t be running straight back though, not with dark coming on. They’d go slower to avoid injuring themselves.

“They’ll be getting back late then.” She settled in her usual place, accepting the food Light passed to her. Fresh cattail shoots, grass clippings, and early spring flowers, yum.

“How is Soft Touch?” Light asked quietly.

“Physically, she’ll be fine. But she’s angry and…” She groped for the words. “Not scared really, but quieter. I’ve never known her to be so, so,”

“She let me treat her wounds without protesting even once.” She finally settled on.

“My dam’s sister was raped once, she was still just a filly.” Morning frowned. “She was absolutely terrified of stallions afterwards. I don’t know if she ever got over that.”

“But why did Cliff Face do that?” Cam frowned up at them. “Why’d he hurt her?”

“Some ponies think that just because they can do something, it means they have to.” Morning pulled her close. “They think they’ll get away with it.”

“There’s lots of stories like that.” Light nodded. “Ponies who think they can take what they please, but in the end, there are always good ponies to stop and punish them.”

“I still don’t get it.” Cam laid down with a huff, disturbing the bedding.

“Cliff Face was mean and stupid, so long as you understand that I think you’ll be fine.” Morning assured her.

“Mean and stupid.” Thistle agreed.

But he was also proof that sometimes ponies could hurt even each other. As if there wasn’t enough danger in the world already.
________________________________________________________________________________

The herd was gathered by the shore of the lake. Smooth pebbles and sand marked the edge of the waterline. There were marks up to the big willow tree that showed flooding, and with the snows melted the water was nearly submerging its roots.

Yeah, Thistle was very glad Pink had stopped her from building here.

“It’s nice here.” Pink Peach sighed, looking up through the canopy. “Peaceful.”

“When are we going to get to the fighting?” Pucker whined, causing Pink to wince.

“Well, it was peaceful.” She rolled her eyes. “Calm down, Pucker. They’ll get to it when they get to it. We’ve got all day.”

“It’s the Coming-Of-Age Ceremony, Pink! Every colt lives their whole lives waiting for this day!” Pucker stuck his tongue out at her.

“And you’ll be waiting another three years for it, so calm down. Look, the stallions and their colts are approaching.” Thistle looked away from the back-and-forth routine. Three colts would become stallions today. Their sires led the way.

The stallions had come to an agreement on the lineup then. Woodpecker versus Tree Stump, Big Wood versus Rock Slide, and Current versus Bright Finish.

The herd formed a circle around the six males. Rock Slide reared up and whinnied, silencing their idle chatter.

“Today these colts will prove themselves to the herd! Today they become STALLIONS!”His hooves came down with an almighty crack.

First up, Woodpecker versus Tree Stump.

“Go, Woodpecker!” Pink cheered. Woodpecker pawed at the ground, preparing himself before he charged Tree Stump.

Tree Stump pivoted on his front hooves, bringing his rear ones around to buck Woodpecker in the face. Woodpecker barely avoided that and threw his body into his sire’s side. He nearly lost his balance, but both males were soon on their hind legs batting their forehooves at each other.

Thistle had seen previous bouts, and even real fights between stallions when emotions got heated. The fact of the matter was that a colt could not beat a full grown stallion. Woodpecker went sprawling in the dirt after a high kick to the jaw.

The matches didn’t depend on a win though. What mattered was whether or not Woodpecker could stand up again after being hit. Fighting despite pain for the sake of the herd was what made a stallion a stallion.

Woodpecker picked himself up and launched himself at his sire again. Kicking, bucking, biting, anything he could do to demonstrate that he was willing to do whatever it took to win.

Woodpecker was knocked down five times, and got up each and every time. Last year Thistle had watched the fights with excitement. This year, she was thinking about how easy it was to hurt somepony just by accident.

Tree Stump stopped Woodpecker before he could charge again.

“This colt of mine has proven he is willing to fight for the herd! I recognize him as a stallion in his own right! Welcome, Stallion Woodpecker!” The herd cheered.

“WOOO! Yeah, Woodpecker!” Pink shouted. Ponies were stomping their hooves to congratulate him.

“That was great! I can’t wait for the next fight!” Pucker was almost vibrating with excitement.

“Big Wood against the Lead Stallion next.” Thistle sighed. The fights didn’t feel the same anymore. She was glad for Woodpecker, really! It was just hard to get excited over a fight when she knew how easy it was to get hurt.

“Is he…?” She looked up as Pink’s question died off. Big Wood had stepped into the ring, carrying a spear. Thistle’s heart leapt in her throat. How many ponies had hurt themselves with spears and then come to her for treatment. And none of them had ever purposely turned those spears against a fellow pony.

Did she interfere or not? Interrupting the Coming of Age Ceremony was a big deal. She couldn’t remember anypony ever doing so before. But that was a spear and spears hadn’t existed before.

“It’s unsharpened.” Pucker placed his hoof on her shoulder. “Thistle, it’s okay, they’re not going to get stabbed.”

“Unsharpened?” She echoed. Pucker smiled bashfully and ran his hoof through his mane.

“He talked to me about it a couple days ago.” He confirmed, pointing back to the fight.

Rock Slide had allowed the unsharpened spear. Big Wood alternated between holding it with his mouth and his forelegs and he’d clearly put a lot of practice in. The spear helped him keep clear of Rock Slide’s flashing hooves. Given those hooves could crack solid rock, Thistle didn’t blame him.

But Rock Slide wasn’t the Lead Stallion for nothing. Big Wood extended his neck out too far during his thrust and Rock Slide trapped the spear between his hooves. The entire herd flinched as the shaft of wood exploded into splinters. Left with half a spear, Big Wood tried to rear back but Rock Slide caught him in the chest, sending him sprawling onto his back.

Big Wood stood up again, ready to keep trying, but Rock Slide held up a hoof to stop him.

“This colt of mine has proven he is willing to fight for the herd, and has the ingenuity to use the herd’s tools to do so. I recognize him as a stallion in his own right. Welcome, Stallion Big Wood!” The herd began pounding their hooves in applause.

“Thank Mother Earth, that’s over.” Thistle muttered under her breath. No pony had gotten hurt. Big Wood was already being congratulated by the rest of the herd.

“That was amazing! Did you see that?” Pucker trotted in place happily. “I’ve never seen anypony use a spear like that!”

“It was impressive.” She agreed, regretfully. One more fight to get through. Current and Bright Finish were already taking their places.

By an unseen signal, the two charged each other. Thistle watched Bright Finish lunge forward, aiming to bite into Current’s neck and throw him. Current pulled his head back and then forward, rapidly, slamming their skulls together loud enough for everypony to hear. Current latched onto a length of Bright Finish’s mane and yanked, intending to throw him down. Rather than resist, Bright Finish pushed himself forward against Current.

Current dropped the hank of mane in favor of keeping himself on his hooves. The herd held their breath as he snorted, pawing at the ground to challenge Bright Finish.

Bright Finish reared up, intending to bring his full weight behind the next strike. Current flashed forward, slamming his hooves into Bright’s barrel. Thistle winced as the stallion staggered back on his hind legs but managed to bring his front hooves down on Current’s back. Most colts would’ve been driven into the ground from that sort of blow. Current managed to stay on his hooves.

He stayed on his hooves through the whole bout. It didn’t matter what Bright Finish tried, and no pony could accuse him of going easy on Current either. They could hear those blows land. Thistle was honestly shocked that Bright Finish could strike so strongly against a foal.

The fight lasted twice as long as the last two. Current was still on his hooves, visibly trembling with exertion and his sides streaked with sweat. There was a brief flash and the herd gasped at the rearing stallion painted on his flank. Bright Finish straightened up with a laugh.

“This colt I’ve taken in has proven himself willing to fight for the herd, and never be knocked down! I recognize him as a stallion in his own right!” He beamed. “Welcome, Stallion Silent Current!” The roar of the crowd was deafening.

“Did you see? Did you see that?” Pucker was practically foaming at the mouth. “I’ve never heard of anypony who didn’t get knocked down!”

“Ha, bet my dam won’t be saying anything bad about Current for a while.” Pink snickered. “Thistle, what do you think?”

“I think they’re both going to be covered in bruises by tomorrow morning.” She frowned at them.

“Ah, you’re no fun. The bruises are the best part!” Pucker stuck his tongue out at her. “I can’t wait until I’m the one in the ring! It’s going to be great!”

“In three years.” Pink smirked, causing him to deflate.

“Three years.” Thistle chuckled despite herself. They’d be adults in three years.

Adults, mares and stallions of the herd.

Thistle didn’t feel ready to be a mare yet. Good thing she still had three years to prepare.

Author's Note

First book done. Woohoo!