For too long, Rowena has wandered without a purpose, trailing the only familiar foothold left alive in her sad and lonely world. She hoped another purpose would present itself to her, but one has not. While Macabre has tended to her own needs and those of her daughter's, Rowena has lurked, feigning the role of protector, but really just clinging to the only reminder she has left of her father, and to the closest thing she's ever had to a mother. It hasn't helped. She met too few new faces in their travels to Tinuvel and felt nothing but in the way of Macabre. Macabre is an amazing mother, showing a kindness and attentiveness Rowena never saw in her own mother. Macabre is more than capable of protecting herself and her young daughter. She doesn't need Rowena. Vodnik needed Rowena, and that mission was nothing but an epic failure.

The longer Rowena watches Macabre and Wasp thrive and grow, the farther she slides into a deep depression. Rowena wonders what might have been if her own mother had been like Macabre, or if Vodnik had lived happily ever after. She wonders what might have happened if she hadn't lost track of Ailill. Rowena is jealous of Wasp and the attention she gets from Macabre, and how lucky she is to know such love. Rowena is jealous of Macabre, imagining the foal the might be at her own side, might things have been different for she and Ailill.

Rowena is painfully aware of her own jealousy, and hates herself for feeling that way. She knows that being angry at Macabre or Wasp won't change her own situation, and for that, she feels even worse. Not only was she unable to stop Circe and save Vodnik, she can't even be happy for her best and only friend in a time that should be filled with joy. Rowena wants to be happy for Macabre, but she can't. No matter how hard she tries, or what circles she talks herself around in her own messed up head, she can't find the capacity to be happy.

There have been long sleepless nights where Rowena would excuse herself to cry alone, but those nights have long turned to hours staring numbly into the darkness. Rowena has run out of tears, and she has run out of a will to find her own way. For lack of any other option, she follows Macabre back to the Peak. While crossing warm autumn waters, Rowena's dark thoughts drift somewhere even darker. What if she just stopped swimming and the waves were to swallow her now? Would she see her father again on some other plane of existence, or would she just cease to exist? Would it put an end to these feelings? Would Macabre be better off? The questions arise, but Rowena isn't ready to know the answers, not yet anyways. Her legs paddle on, and she reaches the crossing isle, still wondering.

At a distance, the dark mare trails her companions. She hangs back, not sure she wants to be a part of this reunion. Despite calling herself an Vulcan for some time, Rowena has yet to embrace the lifestyle or feel any affinity for her sisters in the Peak. As Macabre lowers her head to graze, Rowena does the same. Her lips brush the dying grass, eating little. The motions are just habit without the appetite to drive it now.