Freya had been hoping for company; despite her arduous journey back, the last thing she wanted was to spend her time alone. Time was a precious commodity to her these days, given her age. She could feel a subtle ache in her bones that only grew with each passing day. Her vision had been failing her lately, too, but she was lucky enough to have it confined to only one eye. She knew it was only a matter of time before her body began to wither away, and her mind would surely follow afterwards.
Part of her wondered if she would get to see her children again before then... or at least before she went completely blind. She could still remember Bjorn and Schuyler's faces as if she had just seen them yesterday, their bright blue eyes peering back at her from her memory. She was still unsure if she should be mourning them or not. Were they even dead? She had not seen Schuyler since her departure from Tinuvel. Part of her hoped to make it back there, someday. But for now, what she needed was rest, and perhaps a little cheering up.
Once again, fate - or coincidence - intervened, by way of a stranger approaching her. Hello, the younger woman greeted, I hope you don't mind if I join you? At first, she reminded Freya of Schuyler; the bright peony of her face was like a second sun in the old mare's vision. She was so pleased with the new company she had received that she couldn't help but allow her lips to part into a gentle smile.
"Of course not." She responded softly, sitting a little more upright than before, not wanting to appear rude or disinterested in conversation. "What brings you to the Common today?" She queries in an attempt to make small talk with the varnished mare. Her blue eyes closely study her companion's face, but there is no hint of familiarity within her features. Not that she was surprised at all - after all, she had been gone for so many years.
Another mouthful of grass later, she turns her face fully towards the roan lady, meeting her eyes. "My name is Freya. Who are you?" She was curious to know of her identity, what name could suit such a gentle face? Where has she come from, she wanted to ask, but bit her tongue in fear of overwhelming her with questions. So instead, she allowed herself to fall silent, lips pursed in anticipation of an answer.