They landed some time later on the leeward side of a squat mountain, where the grass was short and scrubby and dotted with patches of wildflowers. Mountain gave Hawk a more thorough inspection and found that her sides were badly bruised, thanks to her collision with the wall and her ankle was sprained. That she had actually been able to take flight after sustaining such injuries was incredible.

"We may have to walk back," Mountain said while taking a look at the bites on Dawn's foreleg; she cleared the blood away with her tongue, which made him wince. "I don't think she could do with more flying — I'd like to have Rain take a look at her before she takes off again."

Midnight dipped her head in solemn agreement. "Very well," she said. "Under Star, I want you to fly ahead and scout. Keep us headed in the right direction."

"Okay, Midnight." Under Star went up, and they started off, Midnight in the lead with the rest of them trailing behind. Dawn and Mountain clustered on either side of Hawk while Thunder and Earth fell to the rear, keeping an eye out for threats.

Dawn was worried about Hawk. She panted and stumbled as they came down the slope of the mountain and onto flatter terrain, and she looked ill and unsteady, nothing like her usually bright, mischievous self. He experienced a flash of guilt and self-loathing. She wouldn't be like this if he hadn't strayed away from the group when they'd been hunting hawks. She wouldn't be like this if he'd listened, and obeyed. But he'd been selfish again, letting his own desires and sense of self-importance usurp the authority of an older member of the herd. His guilt was so great that he couldn't stand it.

She almost died because I went chasing after that hawk like a featherbrain. Died!

"Hawk," he said, unable to keep silent. She glanced up at him and he mumbled, "I...I'm sorry about today. Because of me, you almost..."

On the other side, Mountain's ears pricked. But she said nothing.

"If I hadn't followed the hawk to that wyvern's cave—" he continued.

"Oh, hush," Hawk grunted. He faltered, astonished. "I'm a little beat up, not dead or disabled. Yes, you shouldn't have left the group like that, but you didn't know you were walking into an inferno. Could've happened to anyone."

His head drooped. "But...you still got hurt, and—"

"And I'll be right as rain in a few days," she whinnied. "And days after that, I'll likely be helping you chase hawks again, after you get yourself into more trouble."

He was stunned. "You would hunt hawks with me again? After what happened?"

"Of course," she said, and now her eyes glowed with amusement. "Someone's got to try and keep you on the straight and narrow. And besides, you saved my life. Did you forget?"

He had. But that seemed...irrelevant in light of the fact that he'd put her life in danger in the first place. How can she forgive me so easily? He felt that he didn't deserve it. He felt that he needed to do something to deserve it. But what? He didn't know. He was relieved, yes, but it still felt bad.

So he went to the Head Mare.

As the sun began to sink on the horizon, they reached a small stream and stopped for a drink. Under Star came down to report that they were not far off from where Rain and Storm were — they'd be back by nightfall. They took their time at the water, quenching their thirst and cooling off bodies still running hot from the escape from the wyvern.

During this time, Dawn hesitantly approached the Head Mare. As ever, Thunder was at her side; the giant stallion looked up as he came over, but said nothing. Midnight waved him closer with a wing.

"What troubles you?" she asked.

Her voice was measured — this surprised Dawn. He'd expected for her to be angry at him for what had happened. After all, they'd run into the wyvern because of him — surely someone had told her that. "If it's all right, can I talk to you?" he asked.

Midnight motioned for him to follow with a flick of her ears, and he trailed after her as she headed off into a low field not far from the stream. The grass was fluffier here, and the ground was boggy. A few trees dotted the plain, swaying under the headwind. She went to the nearest tree, a lopsided pine, and stood under its shadow.

"Speak," she said.

He dropped his head. "I wanted to apologize," he said. "For today. It's my fault what happened... When me and Hawk and Under Star and Earth went hunting hawks, I chased one away from the group. I went too far, but I kept going anyway, and then I wound up at the cave..."

"I know," she said.

He kept his eyes on his hooves, watching them dig into the wet ground. Worst of all, I didn't even get the blasted hawk! Likely its body was still back with the wyvern, kindling in its flames. He'd completely and utterly failed today, and endangered the lives of his friends in the process. What must she think of me? "Are you angry with me?" he asked.

She did not respond for a moment; the pause made him stiffen, and he braced himself for the worst. Then she sighed.

"I don't think I need to be. You feel it, what you've done. Don't you?"

At any other time, he might've been relieved. But now, he just felt morose, especially remembering the wyvern's cruel teeth, its terrible flames. And Hawk, hitting the wall and falling to the ground... "Yes," he mumbled.

"It's an important lesson," Midnight said. "It is easy to take the lives of our herd for granted, until they are held over the fire. Only then do we appreciate their inherent value."

"Yes," Dawn said, and shuddered at what might've happened to him if he had been on his lonesome. No Hawk to leap down from the cave wall to save him. No Earth to fly away for help. No Thunder and Midnight to secure their escape. No Mountain to fret over him, check his wounds. Today his herd had saved him, and without all of them he would have died a horrible, fiery death. Little wonder Midnight called for unity and selflessness within the group — the world was wide and wonderful and exciting, but it was also dangerous, too dangerous to live in alone.

"I'm sorry," he said again, lifting his head. "I understand now, I really do. I won't disrespect Storm or another member of the herd again. I'll obey what the older pegasi do. And I'll work on being less selfish."

Midnight appraised him with narrow eyes. "You've already done that," she told him. To his confused look, he said, "Under Star told me. Hawk gave you a chance to run, but when it counted you did not abandon her — you faced a grown dragon by yourself, distracted it long enough for Thunder and I to arrive. A selfish pegasi would not have done that."

He looked down at his hooves again, suddenly embarrassed. "I couldn't," he said lowly. "If felt..."

"Evil," Midnight finished for him. He nodded, and now her eyes began to glow with approval. "And to abandon a loved one in danger is evil, Dawn. If you can feel that, then you will become a strong, upright stallion. Of this I am certain." She extended a wing, drawing it down his back in a motherly way. "So there is your absolution. Everyone is safe, and you have learned your lesson. Let's speak of it no more."

She guided him back to the rest of the herd, he felt a tremendous weight lift from his shoulders. He hadn't forgiven himself, not completely, but Hawk had, and it was clear that Midnight believed in him and his ability to change. And I will. He was determined to do better.

--

That night, they finally returned to Rain and Storm, and a sunrise later, it finally happened. During the night, Midnight and Mountain took Storm out for a long walk, and when Dawn woke the next morning there was a tiny, confused-looking new colt stumbling about, baying plaintively at his mother.

"Wow!" Under Star cried, prancing about his new little brother and sniffing him up and down. "Look at how teensy he is!"

"Are his wings supposed to be that small?" Dawn asked Mountain — the little pegasus was spreading and folding them with no rhyme or reason, two short, bald wings that looked more like crooked legs. "And why do they look like that?"

"Well, give him a day or two!" Mountain said, cuffing his ears with her own wing. "Yours were like that too when you were born, you know. The feathers take a little while to grow in."

"You mean he can't fly yet?" Earth asked. "Then how will we get to the sea?"

"Patience." The group parted as Midnight came forward, followed by Thunder. "The sea's not going anywhere, and the air is warm: we have plenty of time."

Dawn tried not to grumble at that. If it takes a while... It takes a while, a guess. He supposed he was lucky he was still going to see the sea at all; he could've been dissolving in a wyvern's gut right now, after all.

Thunder bent down to sniff the young colt, and it was the oddest sight: a giant black brute and a tiny pale pegasus. "Have you named him?" he rumbled at Storm.

The mare looked tired and sleepy, but also fiercely proud of the newest addition to the herd. "I have: the One Pale as the Moon. Moon for short."

"Moon." Under Star nudged his little brother, who bleated out in surprise. "That's a good name. The moon was full last night, right?"

"Right," Storm said, giving him an affectionate sweep of her tail.

"Hi, Moon!" Earth said. "I'm Earth."

"I'm Under Star," her brother said.

"And I'm Dawn," Dawn said. "Nice to meet you!"

--

Several weeks later, the herd was far from the fields and plains, striking out into more hilly, sandy terrain on foot. During that time, Hawk slowly recovered from her injures, her bruises fading and her sprained ankle healing nicely under Rain's attentive care.

Soon, true to her word, she took Dawn out to chase birds again, but not hawks — seagulls. Though smaller, they were much less wily than hawks and easier to bring down. Dawn caught three for Storm and Moon, to Storm's delight. Moon tried the meat, but though he was growing bigger every day, he didn't seem to take to anything save for Storm's milk at the moment.

When Moon's feathers started coming in, Dawn, Under Star, and Earth counted the days until they could teach their young friend how to fly. When they finally did, it took an entire week for the youngest colt to get the hang of running and gliding — like all young pegasi, Moon struggled to coordinate the movement of his legs with his wings and his breathing.

But he was just as, if not more determined to take to the skies than his older peers, and when he finally took that first reckless coast above the trees, Dawn, Under Star, and Earth deafened the rest of the herd with their cheers. In the days that followed, Moon was soaring in circles above the palms with the rest of them, while the older pegasi looked on. From that day, they flew the rest of the way to coast.

Right at summer's end, they reached the sea.

Completed December 20, 2019

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BONUS: Names

The One Who Runs At Dawn ("Dawn")

The One Born Under Full Stars ("Under Star")

The One With Eyes Like Earth ("Earth")

The One Who Hunts Hawks ("Hawk")

The One Who Flies Over Mountains ("Mountain")

The One Who Chases Storms ("Storm")

The One Dark As Midnight ("Midnight") (Head Mare)

The One With Hooves Like Thunder ("Thunder")

The One Pale As The Moon ("Moon")

The One Who Hates the Rain ("Rain")