“Why am I so cursed?” A large red stallion whimpered under his breath. His large frame lay in the grass, nestled gently against the trunk of an enormous tree. If anyone were to be looking for him, they wouldn’t be able to find him here. He chose this spot specifically for that reason. Tyranno didn’t want to be found. Not yet anyway. He had recently been part of a disastrous encounter with a family of mice. The big guy was offering his assistance with repairing the home of the mice. It seemed an easy enough task at the time. For a large log had fallen onto the burrow- thankfully no one was inside- blocking access to it. Tyranno merely needed to remove the log and shore up some of the damaged areas then all would be well. Unfortunately, it didn’t go quite as planned. While he managed to remove the log, he accidentally applied too much force, causing it to maintain momentum and roll onto the previously unscathed part of the burrow. The resulting tremor created a reaction within the already damaged section which forced it into collapse. There would be no saving their home at all in that instant.
Tyranno felt an immediate clenching in his stomach. He ran away in tears at the devastation he had caused, cursing his brute force and large frame. If only he were smaller, less strong, then he wouldn’t be the harbinger of such sadness and destruction. Yet, for what felt like the thousandth time in his life, here he was alone and saddened by his mistake. The large stallion couldn’t bring himself to apologize to the mice, though he was deeply sorry for what happened, lest they lash out at him. Being yelled out was something that he couldn’t stand to bear, even when it was deserved. Tyranno was always sensitive in this way. His parents had once told him that it was a gift, that it allowed him to easily empathize with others. But he saw it as more of a curse. Just as body and strength were. Tears streamed down his cheeks anew. His mind replaying the scene repeatedly.
“I didn’t mean for it to happen.” He whispered as he slowly shook his head. The smashing sound of the log still rang loudly in his ears.
“Could I have done it differently?” WAS there a different way? Tyranno asked himself the same questions each time. His heart wrenched with each new revolution of the memory. Surely there had been something he could’ve done differently. Perhaps shifted it forward instead of back? Or maybe have broken it into smaller, more manageable pieces?
“Some—something…” His voice cracked with another whimper, his head lowering until it touched the earth as he sobbed.
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