No wonder the Cove had been so quiet— with Spartan gone, it seemed everyone else had drifted away as well, and when a new stallion came to claim the Cove as his stomping grounds, the Gypsy hadn’t stuck around to see what he was like. Jabberwocky’s scent had faded after Spartan’s, and she figured she might as well get going while the going was good. The only thing stopping her from plunging into the much-beloved ocean and checking out one of the other islands was her son. Meraki stood now on the intangible border of the Cove and who-knew-where-else to regard her son. She still thought of him as a miniature version of Jack, although the older he grew the less the colt reminded the spunky mare of her old friend. That, and he was entirely the wrong color. The only white on him was along the length of his roman nose.

“Hm,” she said, running her eyes up his face and down the ridge of his new mane, sliding down his spine and moving beyond his little flick of a tail to look out over the strange land in front of them. “Well, kiddo, what d’you say we go see what’s out there?” With a grin, Meraki pushed his shoulder with her nose before she trotted forward, eager for a new adventure. She could look for Ray’s sibling while she was out and about, finally, so if she came across the stallion again she would have news for him.

Originally she’d intended to cross the next territory directly, but the smell of something decaying in a large stand of trees sent the mare back toward the area closer to the shore. She could hear the ocean, and smell it, but she couldn’t see it just yet. “Ooh, you’re in for a treat!” she told her son with a mini-buck before she picked up her pace to an easy canter. The lazy canter: her favorite, and the one the humans hated the most. Her feet kicked up clods of dirt and she chuckled, amused at the memory of how frustrated her handlers would get.

Before long the breeze from the water was stronger, and she picked up her pace to run in earnest. Meraki had no fear of losing her son; he was a hearty boy, and as capable as the next foal. She crested a low hill at a gallop and slid her way down it, head up and ears perked as she whinnied a high greeting to the waves that slid up along the sand before sucking back into the current. “Look! The ocean!” she cried, and sprang forward from the bottom of the hill to launch herself into the surf.

Thoroughly soaked, she splashed back into the shallows and struck at the incoming tide, kicking water at her son.