“A little under three years.” He said, and followed her line of sight toward the trees, the thick, bristly pine a dark green that seemed darker due to the muted hues surrounding it. He knew it would only be weeks, if even that long, before they were frosted white with snow. “I came when I was a season away from my second spring.” He remembered that day, the way anger had thrown him to the ocean and what he had found because of it. His eyes traced the far away lines of the rocky mountain tops, always white with snow no matter the time of year.

“It was empty here.” Nearly empty. There had been two mares, the last remainders of a herd long gone, abandoned by the stallion who was meant to protect them. One, the daughter of the stallion, still remained; the other, Nephilim had a feeling would not have left Tinuvel, but he had not seen her in some time. It was because of her he was alive, his coat had been too thin and he’d arrived during a blizzard. She’d shown him how to survive the Tinuvel winter.

“I couldn’t imagine anyone leaving this place,” he mentioned offhand, lost in thoughts before blinking and shifting his legs, “though everyone has their reasons to leave.” He, after all, had once had a reason to leave Crossing Isle and no longer live alone, feeling unwanted. Now he had this.

He tilted his head, gaze glancing over Dany, watching her quietly for a moment before he spoke. “I hope whatever reason brought you to the islands, life here in the Bay turns out to be what you’re looking for.”

Most of all, Nephilim hoped he would never fail her, as he hoped he would never fail any he took into his protection.