Three kings? Impa stared at her companion in disbelief, fighting against the logical truth that her sire had not been in the Forest for a very long time. “My father was the king of Luthien, not just the Forest. He ruled this entire island,” she said. It was irrelevant, now. All she could do was visit the neighboring territories and see if the stallions there had any information, but the scents she had noticed on her way into the woods had not been familiar. Impa knew that Luthien had always had a high turnover when it came to band stallions. Before her sire, only the previous king had remained on the island for any significant length of time, and before that, her grandsire. But none of that mattered anymore.

“I see,” she said, her voice soft. The news of her half-sister, a mare she’d never met and just barely knew the name of, was even less heartening. Impa’s head hung near her knees, ears back and eyes closed as she grieved for a moment in silence. It did not take her long to draw in a deep breath and raise her head, however, and she was able to blink at Fayte with her clear dark eyes. “I am sorry that no stallion has seen fit to stay here,” she said. “You are welcome to make a home with us in the Peak, if you wish.” Impa snorted and continued with a sardonic smile, “Though if I understand your love of the trees as well as I think I do, I doubt you’ll take me up on that offer. Sometimes I think the Peak pales in comparison to these woods.”

The draft mare released a heavy exhale. “Thank you, Fayte. I appreciate the information you have given me. So,” she said, and forced a smile. “Where were you from, before you came to the Forest? A native of these islands, or from the mainland? I just met my grandsire a little while ago, and he was telling me all about the mainland. I’ve never seen it before. I always thought it was a myth,” she laughed, and flicked her tail. It took some conscious effort, but Impa forced her worries to the back of her mind and focused on her chestnut companion.