Disdaining the beach, Şahin kept to himself for a few days to let his temper blow over. Instead it settled within him, a hard chunk of anger that he knew would blossom as soon as he emerged with the intent to forgive, forget, and be social once more. His thoughts had returned more and more often to Azaleya, to the mare whose soul had matched his, and he wished selfishly that she were with him right now. She could soothe his heart. She could reassure him that the fault did not lie in him but in others, and remind him that he did not have control over the actions or thoughts of the horses he met and invited into his life. It was their choice whether or not they wanted to stay, not his.

He felt somewhat calmer as he wandered through the grassy field of his home. It was a beautiful afternoon, as consistently warm and balmy as every other day had been on Atlantis since he’d claimed it, and he wondered if the monotonous weather had been contributing to his bleak moods. Şahin didn’t even know what season it was supposed to be anymore. Nothing had changed on Atlantis and it had been some time since he’d been away from the island. The thought sparked something in him, a faint desire for adventure that had once bloomed like fire in his heart, and he found himself on the beach and staring out across the ocean. Once on the sands he lost all motivation to leave his home. What was the point? If he met anyone, the likelihood that they would care to maintain a friendship with him was small, and if he extended an invitation to come live with him the chances of them actually sticking around if they said yes was very, very low. He’d seen the pattern. His mood dipped once again.

The blanketed palomino expelled a deep sigh and glanced to his left where he was surprised to see a young stallion wandering along the shoreline. His pale coat was brindled and shimmered just as Şahin’s did. There was something in the way he walked that was familiar, something in the lines of his face and the strength of his legs that recalled the Nez Perce to a happier time. He flared his nostrils and breathed in, picking through the smells of the ocean and fish and pervasive dampness to locate the scent that belonged to the male. That, too, struck an unconscious chord in Şahin.

But he was growing bitter. It flavored everything, muting fresh smells and destroying what little pleasure he might have taken in the world. It affected his sight and his hearing, dimming the world and making words and sounds just noise. Sometimes he felt like he was wrapped up in a thick cloud and cut off from the rest of the world. Still, his natural reaction when faced with another horse was to engage it in conversation or play, and he wracked his brain for something to talk about with the young male. “Hey,” he said. “What season is it?”

So much for stimulating conversation.