Oswin was enjoying her time as a Vulcan and her choice to return to the islands. Though she missed her mother, father, and even her prone-to-nervous-fits brother, Calder, Oswin still oddly felt at home here among the foothills. A part of her still wished to go off to the Prairie for a visit once the weather was better, but she had other promises to fulfill, too. Come spring her first trip would be out to Tinuvel, where she was warned travel during the winter would be a fool’s errand. As Nephilim did not know her and Oswin wasn’t certain she’d be granted the welcome she desired, she felt it was likely safest to wait until spring.

Vita Nova awaited her return too, and Oswin had decided to visit her shortly after her trip to the Bay.

Oswin was lost in thought as to the adventures she had yet to have, blue eyes glancing up towards the grey sky and willing them to clear and for the sun to shine only so she could get to traveling sooner rather than later. A loud, happy whinny broke through her thoughts and Oswin tucked her head down, ears flicking as she searched and found the figure approaching her. Immediately Oswin was struck with a faint tug of familiarity, but still had yet to recall the day this very mare and her children (and Nova!) had visited the Prairie. It had been right before the time her father had decided to leave the islands, but it was so very long ago, Oswin hadn’t quite remembered it just yet.

She did, however, retain the gnawing feeling she’d met this mare before.

Oswin reached her smaller, slender nose toward the larger, older mare and exchanged friendly breaths before slowly tucking her head back. “It’s nice to meet you too.” Oswin said honestly, eyes shining bright. Aside from the faint strand of familiarity Oswin felt when watching the older mare, she also reminded her of the mares in Valentine’s herd which Oswin had grown up with. They were all family, regardless of whether or not their blood was tied to hers. In this way, she felt Inka was family too.

Still, Oswin couldn’t shake the feeling… a soft frown crawled over her expression. “I’m sorry… I have this strange feeling like we’ve met before. You didn’t ever visit the herd in the Prairie, did you?” Oswin had barely turned two when last they met so briefly and here she was, on the cusp of turning four.