The freezing wind howled and scratched at our legs like tiny daggers. My mane threw around restlessly, and every step forced harsher wind into my eyes. The mud was thick, but glacial, and my hooves began to heavy with the almost frozen dirt collecting under neath me. 

Spirit was trying to shelter Ranger from the blunt of the storm - which no luck - but Ranger was confidently marching through. 

I staggered and Spirit froze. 

"Are you okay?" He nickered. 

I am tired and hungry. We have not seen water (except for the bullets of rain descending upon us) in at least two days. We are only a quarter way to our destination yet the struggle of the journey has already appeared. 

I rose up again, my front legs coated in a thin layer of mud, and continued on. 

I had not realised the true burden of carrying a foal. Every other mare is built like a machine, popping out foals every year until their insides rot from age and they eventually collapse and decay. 

I had never wanted to be that mare. The one ruled by the powerful stallions around me, or the nasty people who decided I was nothing but a novelty. 

Strong, I am. A mother, I am not. Rain was dripping down every side of my aching body, and I could feel my legs trembling beneath me. 

The legs that could hurdle a fence, a stallion, a bear, a rock. 

The legs that could kick with such force they could destroy flesh, shatter bones and tear down trees. 

The same legs that carried me through a war, through battles, through my journey. 

These same legs that were strengthened by weakness now trembling in mud. 

I didn't feel like the hero mare, or the champion war horse. 

I felt like that lost foal stuck in the mud, ready to give up. 

I had been racing through my thoughts for too long and suddenly I stumbled heavily into a ditch. My hooves sunk and I lost my balance, my body sliding along the mud and  forcefully ramming into a fallen log. 

Spirit and Ranger rushed down the hill I had just slid down and I tried to get up. My mane and tail were stuck in between cracks of the log and the more I struggled the more it tore and hurt. 

I ripped away from the log, long strands of hair now hanging on. 

Spirit and Ranger eventually managed to get down and stop steadily, but I stood still in fear. 

"Amazon, are you okay?"

Ranger was talking over him. "Ma, Ma, Ma!" 

I was dizzy and my head felt like it was full of clouds. 

"Fine." I muttered. "Absolutely."

Spirit nuzzled my still swelling stomach and took lead again, Ranger following. 

I looked down. My mud coated legs were stained by the rivers of red blood in my veins. 

The mud was hiding the injuries, however serious they were, and I accepted that. 

I looked towards them and followed.