To another island they went, Al-Hattaal first and Avangeline soon to follow. Swimming from island to island seemed strange to Avangeline, yet even queerer were the differences each island boasted, even so close together. Surely this were some form of magic! While Al-Hattaal searched for a sister she did not know, Avangeline quietly scanned every island they visited, searching for the telltale sign of a god at work. It was as home had been, she thought, for though she’d never been allowed to leave the valley of her goddess, her mother and father told her of the places which the other gods inhabited and how they’d made their surroundings that which they controlled.

As she pulled her lithe figure from the surf, a few paces behind Al-Hattaal who had already made it to the beach, she felt the chill attack her thin coat almost immediately. Surely there had to be some form of an ice or water god behind such a chilling, wintery place! Her warm brown eyes searched like an eager child might but there was only the quiet of the land to greet her back.

And then, hoof beats.

Avangeline’s thin neck raised, ears pointed forward, nostrils flared. A shiver crawled over her wet body and her heart barely dared to beat in her chest as the form appeared on the horizon and came closer. As she’d deemed Al-Hattaal her protector, Avangeline stayed back just a head, making it easier to duck back while he faced the attacker rather than getting in the way. It was no god come to turn them to ice for trespassing on his sacred grounds, but a stallion. He reared; Avangeline huffed nervously and drew another small, slight step back.

She watched him when he spoke, however, and then looked at Al-Hattaal, ready, as always, to allow him to take the lead.