Stones clatter down the slope behind Kristjan as the ground beneath him transitions slowly from rich soil to gritty, mountainous earth. The evening sun is warm on his back even as he gains elevation and the air cools around him.

He had waited until several weeks after the mutiny concluded before risking a trip to the Peak. The brothers had been desperate under Nawahi, and Kristjan did not trust a number of them to allow him a luxury they all had to go without. He couldn’t even blame them, really, and if one of them were to follow him up to where Hiyori waited alone — well, it would be his own fault.

The Lagoon was not exactly overflowing with Trinkets now that Nawahi had left his position, but the brothers no longer bristled with barely-contained frustration, and Kristjan slowly began to trust that his own guilty pleasure would not be worth the hike up the mountain for anyone other than himself. He slips away from the Lagoon in the afternoon, not missed by anyone except for Marko, who has nothing to say about his little excursions.

The tobiano stallion is winded by the time he reaches the ledge where Hiyori usually comes to meet him. His presence in the Peak is not exactly forbidden, but Kristjan is a deeply private person, and he hardly gets to keep his business to himself in the Lagoon. He’ll cling to any amount of control he can get, and sneaking like a teenager to see a girl is about all he’s got right now.

“Hiyori?” he calls softly, wondering if she’s close enough to hear or if he’ll have to venture deeper into Peak territory.