Tinuvel was by far the most northerly of the islands, but she had not realized just how far north it really was. The initial adrenaline rush of being reunited with her first true friend on the islands and setting out on another adventure had since dissipated, and when at last they arrived, wet and chilled on the boulder-choked beach, Sable was exhausted. What’s more, she still had a sharp ache in her chest from when she had taken a tumble in the peak, which was exacerbated by the cool air, and the strenuous labor of swimming had left her positively dying of thirst and hunger.

Much as she loved snow, Sable had put off visiting Tinuvel for a reason: she did not like the cold. In her excitement to travel with Satitba, she had almost forgotten that fact.

And now they stood on a cold, lonely beach. Sable shivered as her coat dried and blinked languid honey eyes at their surroundings, which were pretty in an alien way, but a bit dull for her taste. The air was full of scents – both of salt and horses – but there did not seem to be anyone around, at least this close to the beach. And the grass was strange – spongy in places, wiry in others, and overwhelmingly brown.

Perhaps her weariness and hunger were coloring her emotions, but all in all, her first impression of the inlet was not favorable. Why, oh why, did I agree to come here? I’d rather be back in paradise with Sahin.

Too shy to show her doubt in front of Satitba, however, Sable held her tongue as they moved inland. She could not gauge how the taller mare felt, which did not help. The silence was oppressive; she wanted to break it, but knew she had nothing positive to say, not in her current state of mind. So Sable walked, trailing a little behind her friend and hanging her head, as well as snatching mouthfuls of springy tundra grass when she thought Satitba was not looking.

15'2; Ee Ata Ff nCr; 3; mutt