Her second arrival on the Crossing was as different as it could be from her first. This time, she was not unconscious on the ground and covered in dirt and blood. Her coat had not yet started to thicken with the arrival of autumn, and as a result she emerged from the sea with rivulets of water streaming off her sleeker body. Standing in the shallows with the waves lapping around her hooves, she inhaled the salty air, which was now as familiar to her as the white marking her daughter’s skin. For a brief moment her eyes closed and grief painted her face at the thought of what she had again left behind to come here.

Mouse had said goodbye to them on a beautiful midsummer day. The sun shone around their faces and a breeze whipped their manes together as they stood side by side. Osprey and the golden boy…her son. For so long she had yearned to know of her past life, to meet the child she suddenly knew she had when Osprey had been born, but she had left it all behind. It pained her, but they both wished to stay, and her heart belonged on the islands. In a way, it was where she had been reborn.

And so the grulla left the gloriously sunny plain, where she had learned much about herself and her family. There was sadness there, but also love and happiness. The small amount of remaining herd members had begun to restore the system she had helped to create, but she wanted no part of that. She trusted those who remained, and she knew that if her children grew weary of it they knew where to find her.

Opening her eyes, she stared at the small clusters of horses milling about beneath the autumn canopies. The grasses had yellowed, but the air that wicked away the moisture on her body was still warm, and for that Mouse was glad. The grulla almost believed that perhaps the islands had been holding onto the shreds of summer just for her return, though deep down she knew such thoughts were foolish.

Mouse saw several lone fillies and mares scattered about the crossing, as well as a few stallions attempting to harass or force women into joining their herds, but she made herself look away. There was little daylight left to her, and she faced a long climb up the Peak. Such issues would have to be addressed after she had rested and spoken with Impa.

Her legs quickly grew weary with the incline, as was to be expected after her lengthy trip home. She wondered a few times if she shouldn’t just allow herself a few moments’ rest, but ultimately decided, as the light continued to wane, that reaching the area where the women typically gathered was more important. As she approached the small, gently sloping clearing, Mouse noted several familiar scents along with the unfamiliar. Impa, her sister, and her niece were all still present, and it seemed the old general Anath had also returned. She tossed her head to shake the forelock out of her eyes as she dismissed the fleeting hint of nervousness. Now was not the time to be uneasy, for she had finally come home.