We have to get her out before breeding season. Björn heaves a sigh, the breath slips past his whiskered lips. It seems that for the next few months until the war had come to an end, his whole life was in an upheaval. "It will all work out the way it is fated," he answers the colt with more wisdom.

His glacial eyes slip to the distant horizon, out there lies war and turmoil. Here in the Ridge it feels like the whole island is holding its breath, waiting for the exhale. "Kalona, return home and I will be by to visit before Fall transforms the Isle into vibrant oranges and brilliant yellow."