Gael does not indulge in idle chatter. He keeps to himself, away from the crowds, the intimate pairs. Instead, he wastes his time with eating and listening for clues.

He still has not entirely abandoned hope, though he is not keen to make assumptions. For all he knows, Corinth forgot his name the moment he left the isles. No doubt she harbored some sort of grudge against him, he wouldn’t expect anything less from such a fiery mare. It was his own fault because he could never quite break the wanderlust. Maybe it was in his genetics, he’d come from a long line of savages, eaters who swept through like a plague and then disappeared. Gael does not remember them all perfectly but he knew enough about them to stay far away.

The waterfall was peaceful place, despite the roar of water. It meant he could glide through the many bodies in silence. The black stallion was not much for conversation these days, he mostly used his time by the water to rest and reflect on what came next. If he would continue his search or give up altogether. He weighed these options against each other daily and the outcome changed in a perfectly timed sequence.

There is not greeting, not even a word, as he settled not too far from another horse. Gael looks at him for a moment, his dark eyes taking in features, and then he looks away toward the water. The other horse was relaxing, his eyes were closed. No need to explain anything. He was not opposed to having silent company, Gael was thoughtful in the sense he didn’t quite like being completely alone.