Şahin was bored.

He trudged along the shores of his home, looking for but not hoping to see a body bobbing in the water, bloated from salt and sea and carried onto the beach by the tide. Yusuf, his blind companion, had disappeared with neither warning nor word. The blanketed palomino stallion paused to strike at the loose, dry sand with his hoof. It wasn’t fair. In all his years in the world, only one thing had struck him as monstrously and terribly unfair, and that was the lack of closure. He could handle heartbreak —he had, in fact, multiple times— and the usual inequalities of life, but closure is what dropped him to his emotional knees every time.

At least he knew Azaleya was safe. The first time he had lost her, he had run and run and run until he came upon her again. The same nervous energy had been rising and falling in his body for over two months now. He didn’t know whether to venture out to the Crossing or stay and patrol the shores of his home day by day. Each time indecision stalled him at the lapping edge of the ocean, and so he stayed in Paradise and patrolled.

Şahin stepped forward again with a toss of his head and resumed his walk. If he had company, it would be easier to ignore his apprehensions. As it were, it appeared he was alone in Paradise. Loneliness had never suited Şahin. He was a gregarious and amicable stallion, and old enough now where he longed for the stability of a family and friends around him. For the first time in his life he had to consider the possibility that he might grow old alone.

Motion on the beach caught his distracted eye, and the Nez Perce peered at it as he continued along unhurriedly. It was too small to be Yusuf, that he recognized immediately, and far too small to be Ekko or anyone else he personally knew. As he drew nearer he snorted quietly to himself for being so dense. It was a foal, frolicking among the sand and waves with no regard for how the tide might wrap its tongue around her hocks and drag her under. He jogged forward, splashing into the waves to put himself within reach of her. “Come away from there,” he said, his voice kind but firm. “The tide is going out, and it’ll drag you with it if you aren’t careful.” She was a pale thing, dark about the legs and nose, and very young. He wondered if she was weaned, and glanced up the beach and inland to see if her mother was standing nearby. “Where’s your dam?”