In some ways, he would be forever grateful to Finch for providing him further distraction, even if her almost immediate stumble to the ground caused his heart to leap uncomfortably into his throat. Being here again, on the familiar beach of the Ridge with the ghost of Çiçek lingering in his memory was hard and made him irrationally sad. He stretched down worriedly to touch the girl's side while his gaze raked over her slender figure in search of a wound. Finding none, he exhales against her skin and reaches up to gently brush against her forehead.

It hurt him, to do this. To send her away. As much as he loathed her father, and understood her mother's position, it was not in his nature to remove any child from their parents. As much as he disliked Ysabel's connection with Ailill, he would not have dreamed of stepping in between father and son. That bond was far too important for him to willingly sever it normally... but Aranck was an exception. That man would never lay hands on Finch, or Wren, ever again. If he hadn't seen Wren's anguish firsthand, he might have even refused on the belief that Wren would eventually grow to love her daughter. But looking at Wren's face, even in those first few precious moments of Finch's life, he had known that this was not the case. That no amount of wishful thinking on his part would ever make up for the trauma that had preceded the little girl's conception.

To look at her was a reminder of his own transgression against the badger-faced mare. It could so easily have been Liam that she looked at with such dislike in her eyes, and he understood anew how lucky he was that she was willing to make a fresh start with him.

"Soon," he offers with a smile in response to her question. Looking at her now - her wide trusting gaze turned hopefully up at him as if he were her father and thereby knew all of the answers to life's problems - Solomon knew that he would not be able to leave her forever. She deserved to have someone to love and care for her, and if Wren was not able to do so, he would step in for her where the burden was too heavy. "But first, I want you to meet some friends of mine."

As if on cue, the reddish figure of Rivaini slipped out from beneath the jungle's canopy and picked her way to him. In some ways, he was glad it was only the silvery mare, if only because the echoes of that first visit were dimmer in the presence of only one of the trio. Lifting his head from the filly, he stepped protectively forward. He doubted that anyone would want to harm her, considering he was the only stallion he had ever seen on these shores, but he would not risk Finch's life any further than he had already done today.

"Rivaini," he greets warmly, his gaze darting behind her to the forest out of habit. He had begun to give up hope of ever seeing Çiçek's beautiful face peering out from those verdant shadows, but the instinct to keep searching for her had not abated. Nor did he see a child at Rivaini's hip, which was surprising, considering the state of her pregnancy the last time he had visited.

It made him wonder what had transpired between her and Rougaru again. It seemed the Paradisian king had been busy last fall if he had truly courted Rivaini and managed to coerce the light-hearted Çiçek back to Paradise. The memory of his conversation with the chocolate stallion makes his throat constrict again in both guilt and anguish. If only he had gone to Paradise immediately after visiting with the Ridge women, he might have found Çiçek before it was too late. Now, with months of no new information, he had begun to realize that she might never return.

Solomon's coat shuddered at the implication of this being true and shook himself back into the present with a rueful smile that sobers almost instantly. "I need your help," he says meaningfully, grateful to have something else to focus on. His gaze rises intently to Rivaini's and he speaks deliberately, praying that she would understand the subtext of his words without forcing him to admit the truth of Finch's origins in front of the girl. It was a conversation that they could have someday, but Solomon did not have a hard enough heart to make these crucial moments any harder for the girl.

"Her mother is ill," he says calmly, his gaze intense. Bodily, he knew that Wren was fine, but he worried intensely for her mental health. She still hardly looked at him, let alone sought out conversation and he could still see the anguish in her eyes whenever she looked at Finch. "And I was hoping that Siobhan, or maybe even you, might be able to watch over her for a while." For forever, he wanted to say, but could not bring himself to voice. He had seen the confusion on the girl's face when they had left the Cove and knew that she would not easily understand why her mother did not want her.

Turning to face Finch, his face softened again and he gestured invitingly for her to come closer. "This is Finch," he says, his throat tight. "She is... she is my daughter," he says finally, the words rising automatically to fill his stumble. She was no such thing of course, but he could not allow her to remain unclaimed as if she was unwanted by the world. Again his gaze lifts knowingly to Rivaini, painfully aware that the girl bore no resemblance to him and would only grow to look less and less like him as she aged. "In all the ways that matter."

"And Finch, this is my friend Rivaini." He lets his gaze hang heavily on the chocolate mare for a moment before curling back to look at the filly again, offering what he hoped was an encouraging smile. Solomon had every intention of including her more in the conversation and selling the benefits of the Ridge, but he didn't want to raise her hopes only to have to dash them if Rivaini said no.

Solomon