She watches the stranger curiously, silvery ears pricked forward, nose raised towards the sky to test the air. This was not one of Vercingetorix’s new females; she had seen him return with them, consuming their company like a child obsessed with his new toy, unwilling to let them join the herd - perhaps in fear of them escaping his grasp before he can get them with foal. This female was alone, and does not smell like the red stallion.

Therese can only assume that she is a stranger, that she had come here on her own accord, her own choice, maybe like Therese herself had.

It was getting colder each day, every morning Therese would watch the frost melt into dew, only to freeze against the grass once again in the evening - she wonders if the Forest would have snow, she hoped so, it has been a while since she has had the pleasure of running through the snow topped trees and reminded of her birth home.

But with the winter came colder seas, and Therese wonders if this female intends to stay, or to swim back to wherever she came from before the temperature dropped and winter was officially on them. The stranger stands amongst the trees, and Therese can see her shoulders relax - the forest gives her comfort.

The silvery mare exhales, then picks her way through the trees towards the stranger, and when she is close enough she stops to say: “ You are not Vercingetorix‘s,” it is not an accusation, it is a statement, although Therese subconsciously notes that she does not sound as reluctant as she used to - the baby growing in her womb has given her spirit, given her determination - and she had long decided that she was going to pull her weight in this herd.

“Are you okay?” , the question sounds odd coming from her lips, she is not used to showing concern, especially for a stranger.