Where Indian Hemp is from, it is also not entirely unusual for a stallion to live with another stallion, at least amongst other herds. His step father would never have allowed a second stallion. A second would be seen solely as competition and Bayard would have done nothing more than aim to eliminate it. Beyond his normal apprehensions, Indian Hemp feared Torix might prove to be the same way, but thus far, Vercingetorix has been good to Indian Hemp. They have not quarreled or been forced to settle any differences since living together in the Forest. Perhaps this is because Indian Hemp is happy being subordinate. He does not challenge Vercingetorix's authority and he tries his best to avoid the company of mares that are not his own. It is a great way to keep the peace, to have a family of his own and a real place to live, but escape the responsibility of guarding borders or fighting battles to keep a territory all his own. It's a win-win situation for Indian Hemp.

The spotted stallion leads Sehrish to the farthest reaches of the crossing and plunges into the sea, swimming for the distant island of Luthien. The currents separate them as they swim. When Indian Hemp's hooves find purchase on the muddy shores, he looks around to find no one. He has lost Sehrish. Disappointed, he moves forward into the all-enveloping gloom of the forest. The sun is merely setting beyond the trees but night falls early in the forest. The lengthening shadows quickly turn to darkness.

Indian Hemp picks his way carefully through the tangled mess of thorns that guard the forest edge, and through the thickening trees. He winds a meandering path, hoping to hear Sehrish, or the spot Chianti and their daughter, but luck is not on his side tonight. He finds no one. Eventually his grumbling stomach gets the best of him he stops to pluck at a few short stems of grass, struggling to grow despite the canopy that shades the sun, but it isn't much. Indian Hemp is not satisfied even after he's pulled what's left here up from the roots. He turns around and heads towards a small clearing he likes to haunt, and on the way, luck finds him.

Sehrish's white coat, rinsed by the ocean is easy to spot in the darkness. Indian Hemp nickers from a distance, as not to startle her. The young stallion's ears come forward and he moves into a trot, gracefully dodging any obstacle that lies in his path. His narrow frame, sparse mane and tail, and long, fluid strides are well-adapted to this sort of environment. He may not have carried much weight in the grass lands he once called home, but here, he just might find his niche. Indian Hemp halts near Sehrish and drops his own head to graze. It's nice to have company at the dinner table.