“Well enough,” replied Nephilim with a wry grin, thinking how difficult those weeks had been as the wind howled and ice blew through her breeze hard enough to feel as if it were cutting his flesh if ever he left the cavern. At least next winter he would be far more prepared, both in herd numbers (which provided both body heat and safety) and the shagginess of his coat, which would grow thicker as the weather steadily declined in temperature. Plus, he now knew the land inside his borders from his daily walks and intensive exploration, he’d learned of new caves in case others proved inadequate and discovered the hot springs as well. There was still more to learn, he knew, but at least he felt as though he was approaching winter with more confidence than he’d possessed just a year ago.

Gold eyes on Pagan, Nephilim watched as the stallion shook his head and spoke, sensing a slight change but nothing noticeable enough to pry. “The islands are all I know.” Said Nephilim, he’d learned from travelers in the past that not all places were like this. “But I am content here.” He had no urge to seek out these faraway places, choosing instead to remain here, on this chain of islands. This would be where he built a life for himself and, if he accomplished what it was he wished, it would be a pretty damn good one.