Catalan did have to ask where the safest place was, though she wasn't fully sure on this cold island she had tracked the other girl's scent to. She had given herself a few days to rest and mentally prepare herself for anything when she arrived in the territory, yet the palomino could still feel her nerves flaring up and the tremble in her short legs. "Maybe this is a mistake," she says to herself, halfway turning to go back into the cold water but flashes of the mean humans and the terrible rope around her neck had her going the opposite way, more into the territory. She defiantly needed a place to stay, at least for a little while.

Her weary legs left the sand, and continued walking her past tree after tree, ears laying back as her nose detected the scent of a male. Yep, a bad idea. If there was anything Cat hated more than making conversation and things taller than herself, it was the opposite sex. She can remember her first time on the islands, when she had come across an older lass by the name of Silver. The two mares had been confronted by not only one male but another as well, and lets just say that the second stallion was not at all friendly which completely scared poor Cat to death. She never really got over it.

As she walked on, one of her dark hooves makes a sorta clicking sound as she steps down and then up. Stopping, she curiously lifts up her right front leg to eye the object of this annoying noise. A rusty shoe is what catches her eye, hanging on for dear life by one crooked nail. She'd lost the others a while back ago, and had almost forgot about this one. She can't possibly continue on with this racket, it would surely attract more than another horse. She shakes her hoof back and forth, even dragging it across the ground a few times to rid herself of the thing that was now her old life. It came off with no trouble but Cat could hardly pull herself away as she stood there looking down at the horseshoe.

Despite everything, she missed her people.