Precious stood against a tree, looking out over the Inlet. It was quiet, which was nice. She hadn’t met anyone other than Dogun, but that was fine. The white and black rocks had been taken over by a thin layer of bright green. She wasn’t very used to green coming from a steppe environment. It was a lovely change of pace. No one around screaming at her because of her silver locks. No one steering their foals away so that they wouldn’t catch her Curse.

At the same time though, it was certainly strange to be technically a part of a herd without there being a lot of warm bodies lurking around. She sighed and idly scratched her dark neck against a tree. She wasn’t shedding like she assumed many others were (judging solely by the appearance of horse fur on the bark of many a tree). If anything, the coldness of the island of Tinuvel was causing her coat to thicken.

She dropped her dark head, blue eyes looking around again. She could smell others. Once in a while, she’d caught sight of some foals running around. There also seemed to be a second stallion as she could smell a male who was definitely not Dogun. So far, whether it was by chance or design, she hadn’t seen any of these strangers. She certainly had avoided the playful children. Nothing against children, but she had found them among the most abusive of all her tormentors.

The teasing, the taunting, especially as a filly herself. She shivered against the memory. She trotted forward from her piny observatory, her stomach informing her it was time for a meal.