In spite of the autumnal chill in the air, Jetta’s heart is full as she returns to her birthplace and rightful home. On one side, her brother Argento - whom they had all run into in the commons after at least a year of separation - chatters away, catching them up on his life, the war, and Diamant’s whereabouts. On Jetta’s other side is her grown son Wade, who alternates between thoughtful silence and intelligent remark, and up ahead, almost out of sight, is the wheat-gold form of Prairie, whom Jetta is keeping a sharp eye on. The last thing she needs is another disappearing incident from her yearling daughter.

In spite of her bliss, however, Jetta is troubled to hear about the war and the role the Peak mares have played. As she and her family climb the foothills that lead into the Vulcan territory, her pale blue eyes scan the landscape, looking past the beautiful autumn colors to see if there are any signs of Vulcans that have returned or that had never left at all. Gent had admitted that he did not know the outcome of the war - if it was over at all - and what the state of the Peak was currently. Jetta can only hope that none of her old friends have been harmed or lost forever.

As they crest a hill and begin to descend into the valley nestled at the Peak’s base, Jetta catches a faint but familiar scent that sets her nerves on edge. She stops in place, testing the air as the cool breeze rustles leaves overhead. Lost in their conversation, Wade and Argento continue for a few paces before realizing that she has fallen behind. It’s Wade who stops first, turning to look back at her. “Mom?” he asks, and she can hear that note of concern in his voice that says he thinks she is going to have another fit.

“I’m fine,” Jetta replies absently. “I just thought I… Nevermind.”

As they begin to walk again, Jetta sees Prairie jogging back their way with a questioning expression. “What’s the hold up, slowpokes?” she teases. “C’mon, I found somewhere to drink.”

“What an impatient little squirt you are,” Gent quips back, prompting a laugh from Wade and a smile from Jetta.

The four finally make their way to a small stream which babbles merrily through the trees across a gaggle of rocks. They take turns drinking and chatting - or at least, the others do. Jetta is quiet, lost in a reverie triggered by a strong sense of deja vu. Something happened here years ago, in this exact spot, but what was it? And why did that scent seem so familiar?