Too long, Freya wanted to say, but she knew that wasn't much of an answer. "Well, I left the Inlet when my daughter was a year old, my son was two..." she paused, pursing her lips tightly together as she tried to remember exactly how long it had been. The years had begun to bleed into one another a long time ago. Now she wasn't sure where one year ended and another began, but the rapid cycling of the seasons kept her in pace. After a moment, she replied, "They would be eight and nine now, respectively." Briefly, she wondered if her choice of words would catch her companion's attention.
Persephone's previous mention of the old Inlet leader caught Freya's attention. "What was his name?" The older female questioned, though she wasn't sure why she bothered asking. The chances of him being anyone familiar were slim, if not nonexistent. Still, she considered the Inlet - and Tinuvel - her home. Although she no longer ruled over the tundra island, she would always have its best interest in heart. To know had been in good hooves gave her an odd sense of reassurance.
Part of her was happy to know - in an odd way - that she wasn't the only one who had difficulty recognizing those around her. "Well, that's okay. There are always new friends to be made. I'm certainly glad to have met you." Freya murmured, a warm smile illuminating her features. "Say, do you think there's room in the Forest for one more?"