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Saure stretched to grab a fat berry far out on the limb. Just as she closed her hand on it, there came a snarling shriek from deep in the woods. She started, slipping, and found herself hanging by a leg and three fingers. She gasped, scrambling for purchase, and dropped her basket in the process. The nag skipped out of the way, dancing nervously.

"Girl, we should be going! I hear the wild things calling early!"
"As did I, Nag, calm yourself! He didn't sound angry."
Nag shook her mane, snorting a sarcastic chuckle. "Ach, no, he sounded downright famished to me!"
"Damn you, old thing..." Saure pulled herself back up on the bough. "He sounded in pain. He's probably calling for help. Never you mind, he won't bother us. Let his pride find him instead of us."
"Pride??" the nag wickered. "What's pride got to do with-"

Saure hushed her, listening as the beast gave another strained call. Her heart broke for the creature, and she wished she had the courage to help him. But even you and I know that a great beast weakened in pain is no less a danger to those who would make the mistake of coming near it.
Saure shimmied and hopped her way back down the tree. The nag nipped at her skirt anxiously when she got down far enough to reach. Saure batted her muzzle away, annoyed. She went about gathering the spilled pineberries back into her basket along with her climbing straps and ignored the nervous old horse.

When Saure had mounted the nag again, the horse immediately turned homeward. Saure goaded her with her heels, compelling her back toward the creek.
"Honestly?!" Nag cried, "That's where we heard the beast cry from!"
"Oh, fie, ye old gray bitch! We're going to the creek hell or hayfire, so git!" Saure slapped the nag on her fatty old flank. She whinnied, bucked, and took off for the creek at a nervous canter.

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They continued this way for some time, down the almost invisible deerpath the white stags and their does had forged for generations. The nag didn't pause to crop at a passing bush or sparse grass as she usually did on outings to the creek. Everything grew sweeter as it neared the cool water's edge; but she had a nervous stomach, and her wind was up.
Saure breathed a happy sigh as they rounded a bend and gained view of the sparkling blue of the rushing water. She dismounted and set the basket down, untying her riding dress. The nag stepped cautiously to the creek's edge, ears flicking as she lowered her snout to drink.
Dress, boots and undergarments set carefully on a nearby boulder, Saure waded out into the creek with basket in hand.
She set the basket on a nearby log that was jutting from the water, and began to scrub at her arms and legs with handfuls of tiny pebbles to cleanse her skin of the pine sap. She glanced around as she did this, searching the blackberry vines that crept along the banks for spots of shiny black. She breathed in the sweet smell of summer woods and smiled to herself. Nag always feared the worst. She was like Saure's mother that way.

She froze suddenly, having caught a glint in the shadows. She saw, or thought she saw, a great movement off to her left in the tall underbrush on the other side of the creek. She took two steps backward, and her bare foot slipped on a stone. She gasped, clamped her hands over her mouth to stifle a startled squeak.

"What?? What is it?? What's there??" Nag whispered urgently. Saure waved her back, bright sparkling droplets flying from her fingers. She stared into the shadows.
When nothing happened for a full minute, Saure exhaled slowly and rubbed at her face. She was letting Nag's paranoia get to her. "It's nothing, maybe a deer. It's gone now, whatever it was."
She picked up her basket and began searching for blackberries.