She felt like she should be doing something. The perlino spotted girl trotted about the Peak with all the confidence of the native. She’d been there for almost a year after all. She knew the slopes and the rises. She also was bored. She didn’t know what to do. So far, she’d ventured to the Common a few times and managed to save some mares from particularly compromising situations, but there was little else to do.

It had been a while since her conversation with Impa. And even then, Satitba had been confused as to what it meant to be a mare of the Peak. There was little interaction and the social-hungry mare was going a bit crazy. She was like a dog who had been penned too long. Blue eyes scanned the horizon and down below towards the Falls.

Maybe she needed to get off the mountain for a bit. See the islands and find out what was out here. After all, she hadn’t been off the Crossing yet. She snorted and turned off from the path to the Falls and back towards one of the flatter glens. She would have to figure out which Island to go to, she supposed. Maybe Tinuvel. Maybe someone knew something about a spotted, draft stallion. It really was her only lead in the question of her heritage.