For the hallowed ground of her ancestors, the Inlet seemed rather... plain.

When Irina was young, she'd asked her sire about her heritage. He knew naught of her dam's past, but his was extensive and ever-expanding, full of old names and older stories. Ivan was born on Tinuvel, a snowy isle some distance from their home at the Cavern, and within Tinuvel he had spent his formative years at the Inlet. His sire, Koschei, had ruled alongside Rodion, sharing the land as equals, and his dam was the ever-quiet Briar, a lone bloom amongst the icy emptiness.

Irina was intrigued at the mention of her granddam. According to her sire, she was a small mare, about Irina's size and shape, and they shared the same chocolate brown color, though Briar had bright splashes of white up her legs and stomach. Irina's timid nature and soft voice were quite like her granddam's, and ofttimes she would catch Ivan's gaze lingering on her, as if he'd seen the ghost of Briar within his daughter. As she grew and eventually went to the mainlands, her heritage stuck ever-present in her mind, and though it was not the reason she'd returned to the Lost Islands, it was the reason she'd left her quiet home in the Paradise late that night. Alone, bored, plagued by a wandering mind, the mare set her crystal blue gaze upon the horizon and ventured towards the Inlet. Rade had been scarce of late, and Irina assumed he wouldn't notice her gone for a day or two. She hadn't seen him in weeks to begin with.

It was dawn when she arrived, and the sun tinged the sky pink as she washed upon the shore, shaking the water from her coat. There was little snow around this time of year, but it was cold, and the little vegetation was yellowish and brittle. The landscape stretched before her, bleak and harsh and chill despite the warm season, and Irina couldn't help but feel a bit... disappointed. This land seemed as empty as the Paradise, but here there was no greenery or wildlife to take up the empty spaces. As she ventured inland, the sound of the waves breaking upon the shore carried far, and she felt rather conspicuous as her hooves crunched over the hardened terrain.

The sun stretched its rays across the horizon, reaching their warmth out to her. Finally, the sounds of the world awakening reached her, birdsong ringing from somewhere in the nearby trees. Irina paused to listen, her softly-curved ears tilting to catch it, but what she heard over startled her heart into a rhythm so loud and pressing she was sure any could hear it. On the wind, very close, the word Briar sounded, soft and slow like a whisper she wasn't meant to hear. Irina glanced around, looking for the white-splashed mare of her past, but what she found instead was a different matter entirely.

Not so far off stood a stallion. He was tall and strong to Briar's tender fragility, a roaned out mahogany with dark points in contrast to her comingling light and darkness. He seemed thoughtful, if not a bit morose, and Irina wasn't sure he'd spotted her. She thought about leaving him alone, continuing on her way, but she couldn't help but wonder if it was his voice she'd heard just a few moments ago. Without thinking, she nickered out towards him, a "Wait!" hurrying after. Her legs carried her closer, and her forget-me-not eyes met his, curiosity outweighing any hesitance at talking to strange men (especially in the thick of breeding season).

"Excuse me," she said, peering at him. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I just - well - I think I heard you speaking, and..."

The question blurted from her in a rush. "Do you know of a mare named Briar?"