As he laid down to rest in the barn, he began to hear voices just outside.

“I'm sick of your shit,” Marigold was saying to Upset Tummy. “You can't keep doing this!”

Upset Tummy dragged their hoof against the grass, as if rolling over a pebble. Then, to Acorn's shock, they spoke: “Doing what?” Their voice was hardly deep, nor exceptionally high-pitched. All things considered, it was underwhelmingly average.

“Dying,” Marigold bokked, and then kicked up dirt and flapped her wings dramatically. “You can't just pretend to die every time something you don't like happens.”

“Watch me,” they neighed. Then, after a swish of their mane, they dropped onto the ground limp.

“For fuck’s sake.” She climbed on top of them – he could see her claws gripping into their shoulder. “Get up!”

They remained on the ground, still. Acorn watched with a feeling of creeping horror. Had they actually died? Did she just not care? ‘I have to do something,’ he thought, ‘anything…’ But his legs could hardly move, he was so scared.

Suddenly, his internal monologue was interrupted by a flash of light and a terrible bang. He leapt a foot into the air and scrambled, trying to get away from the noise. “What was that?!” he cried out loud.

There wasn’t any time to answer that question – now the barn was on fire! But it was like neither of them even cared, they were too busy in their bizarre fight. He yowled as loud as he could from the bush, trying to get their attention, but they didn’t respond at all. Marigold was too busy climbing all over the horse, who was too busy being maybe-not-dead.

“Fuck it,” he hissed to himself, “I have to do something!”

So he jumped out of the bush and ran straight into the burning building for some fucking reason