“Minny! Where are you?”

Minstrel Custard had not come home the previous night, and Phil and Shelter were worried sick. Minstrel was always one to do things outside of what was acceptable and expected of him, but not coming home was not one of them. In fact, he was always on time. Why wasn’t he now?

The two spouses had split up, scouring the alleys and streets for any sign of him. Where could he be? Something couldn’t have happened…no, it was simply not possible. Not with Minstrel. But they couldn’t help but worry…

Suddenly, a horrible shriek pierced the air. It was Shelter.

Phil immediately rushed towards the sound, gripped with the fear that another one of his spouses was in danger. But what he saw made his heart drop.

Shelter was hunched over, screaming incomprehensibly and violently shaking a figure on the ground. Upon closer inspection, it wasn’t just any figure…it was the dull green body of the stallion they’d been hoping to find. But he wasn’t moving, and his underbelly was caked with dried blood.

Minstrel Custard was dead.

“No!!!” Phil cried, racing to Shelter’s side. “Minstrel!!”

“Philly!” Shelter jolted up at the sound of her husband’s voice, her voice shaking with terror. “I-I found him here just now, h…he has no heartbeat and he’s covered in dried blood and…and…”

“He…” Phil’s eye caught sight of the blood-caked knife lying nearby. “He was killed!”

“And he’s DEAD! Minny’s DEAD!” Shelter screamed. “Why, why, WHY???” She sobbed into her husband’s cold, limp body, first loudly and then so hard that no sound came out of her in her state of complete devastation.

And Phil could only watch in horror, too shocked to even cry. He had seen this before, someone’s life taken away from them before their time. Too many times he had watched helplessly as the ones he cared about perished. And like Swan Lake, hardly anyone, except the ones who really knew Minstrel, would bat an eye at his absence.

Why did this have to happen?