'The Madness of King James VI' by Rachel Burrows

Her soaked airless hood hung heavy, making her crouched shape nothing more than a rock to the casual observer. But it was no casual observer she had stayed frozen to the water’s edge all night to avoid. As the sun rose, the steam from her sodden cloak followed, up through the reeds as loud and obvious as the fire that awaited. She felt the vibrations of their hooves long before she saw them, through the earth of her body, through the earth of her body, through the earth of her body - her unearthed body.