Eglantine supposes Clinger isn't as friendly as Lorelica with the way she departs without answering her question, but she is extremely heavy with foal. Perhaps she only wants some privacy instead of the chatter of two friends. The Friesian Clydesdale mix could bear no anger toward the girl; she might have done the same thing if she was in a similar state. So she turns her attention back to Lorelica.

She is staying here? Oh. Eglantine knows she should not be disappointed, but she can't help but imagine the adventure they all might have had together if they didn't bind themselves to a chunk of land. Constancy in change. The same faces of Lorelica and probably her sister Clinger, yet a flurry of transience, ephemeral seasons and lands. A regretful smile set on her face.

"I don't think I would like it, staying in one place." She never had and she doubts she ever will, though Lorelica does seem like such a sweet youngster and would surely be good company. Good company, however, had never kept Eglantine's hooves from straying. She tires of the same old grass and the same old trees. "I would make sure to visit, I guess, and I wish you the best. But I'm moving on."

The words almost hurt her throat. She is the new deserter, what she had, in the past, grown to despise. She stares desperately at the girl. At least she would have a life with her sister, and Eglantine would do her best to come visit again, on the condition that whoever owned this land would allow it. And perhaps even if he didn't.

the (possibly) last summer