There’s no sign of Mae on the shores of the Bay, nor any sign of Fell. His loss of her and then subsequent, near-immediate loss to Fell for whatever random mare he spotted in his rage still stings. There is no time to nurse his pride, though; he’s made his stops seeking new allies. He figured since he had already left the comfort of the Badlands, he might as well drop in, see if he couldn’t steal her back. But perhaps they haven’t made it back yet, or perhaps the silent stallion is clever and has her hidden away somewhere far from sight, safely ensconced within the icy confines of her new prison.

Instead of Mae, he finds a pretty silvery-grey mare, short and stout. She doesn’t shy from him as Rafe picks his way down the shoreline, instead extending her head and offering a friendly nicker. Hm. Not exactly who he came for, but appealing all the same. He draws close, extending his muzzle in greeting. “Hello,” Rafe tells her, icy eyes sliding over her appreciatively before flickering over her shoulder, keeping an eye out for Fell or any other mares. Better this is done alone - better to lure her with him willingly. If she doesn’t go right away, he can always try to force the issue. “I didn’t expect such a warm welcome,” Rafe murmurs to her, flashing her a charming smile. She isn’t Mae, but she will do.