Winter. Psychedelic suppressed a shudder of revulsion, his lips pressed in a thin line and his ears turned back. He hated winter. There was nothing worse, he thought, than the cold which came over the world when winter came. From snow to ice to everything in between, he hated it all. This was why he’d only visited Tinuvel once – once was enough. Whoever chose to live in a land of what he essentially felt was endless winter was too crazy even for him to handle.

As always, Psychedelic’s saving grace in the winter was to dream of Atlantis. Warm, sticky with humidity, it felt as if it were a true paradise to think of as he suppressed a shiver. He longed to go there now, just turn about, plunge into the water and swim to Atlantis, but there were so many things holding him back. For one, he’d traveled to Atlantis far too many times when last he’d been on the islands. If ever he was going to be recognized for who he was, it was going to be there. Also, there was Talya.

Psychedelic opened his eyes and looked around the winter forest, where he couldn’t see his daughter anywhere in sight. She’d taken a shine to Persephone and to Aurora, which meant she was likely tagging along with one of them. He worried more and more every day they’d notice there was something off about her and ask him about it. He found himself wanting to apologize. He found himself worrying her eccentric nature was going to out them as trouble-makers. Luckily, however, his constant worried looks could be misconstrued as concern on behalf of his fellow herd mates.

Psychedelic, previous ruffian of the Lagoon, who tortured, beat, and near-killed mares, would never have been concerned his fellow herd mates were slightly uncomfortable about something. Bob would.

Psychedelic found he still didn’t quite like being in Bob’s skin. He could do it, and he’d done it brilliantly thus far, but it didn’t fit right.

You idiot. It’s because you’re not meant to be this domestic, gelded old boring senior citizen.

Psychedelic snorted, his ear twitching. His lips worked, but he grinded his flat teeth rather than answer as he’d wanted to. He couldn’t risk someone in the Forest herd hearing him speaking to himself.

You know I’m right. Don’t you miss it? The freedom of having no one? The ability to go wherever you damn well pleased? Don’t you even miss the fights? Remember the raids? Remember your brothers?

Immediately, Psychedelic thought about Kendry. He thought about Fallo. He thought about Felony. He felt a pull inside himself he didn’t want to admit to – he did miss his brothers. But then he thought about Kasabian. He thought about the leggy black descending on them like she was birthed of hell (Psychedelic thought she surely must be) and the bay stallion turning and coming for Psychedelic. They’d meant death, not a simple fight, and Psychedelic’s courage had fled. He’d left Kasabian, the bay stallion hot on his heels.

A true, loyal brother did not turn his back and abandon the boss in his time of need. If Psychedelic stepped foot in the Lagoon now, his brothers would turn their back on him – or worse. He was a coward. Kasabian would never forgive him.