These two giggling mares much more resemble the fillies they’d once been rather than the tired pair that Orkaan had met on the Crossing over a year ago. They’ve never been apart, and they’ve never been in a situation that would force them to separate. Their mother had kept them together constantly, mostly to make sure they would keep each other out of trouble. Even if they can never go back to the Cove, each step they take feels as though they could be transported at any moment back to the best days of their lives.

The chill is already beginning to set in on Tinuvel, standard in the days and weeks before winter. Nymphadora and Zephyra both relish this time of year; when they were young, they’d made a game out of whose winter coat grew in the thickest and softest. They’d never been able to get a judgment from either of their parents, who could never choose one twin over the other.

Nymphadora, who more resembles their mother in coloring, though Zephyra has inherited the white patches, seems to be winning this year. Her blue roan pelt already looks shaggy, unusual when they haven’t even had their first snowfall yet. ”It’s probably because you’ve been immobile, so your body realized it had to compensate since you wouldn’t be able to move to keep yourself warm,” Zephyra had theorized.

A contented silence has fallen between the sisters, making it easier for Zephyra to pick up on something amiss. She stops and turns her head, ears alert. When Nymphadora makes a questioning noise, Zephyra shushes her. As Zephyra’s nostrils flare, Nymphadora wonders if they are about to meet the Inlet’s new stallion.

The figure that emerges doesn’t strike either of them as the man in charge. His coat is still as smooth as if it were the middle of summer and he has a shifty look about him that gives them pause. Nymphadora’s heart skips a beat with nervousness as she feels her sister tense up beside her. Zephyra, despite being the younger twin, has always been more protective, more prone to anger. The roan mare hopes she isn’t about to watch her sister get in a fight with a stranger.

Zephyra watches the copper colored stallion suspiciously as he approaches them, taking in every detail that she can. She has a feeling that he’s up to no good, and when he moves to separate her from Nymphadora, she reacts immediately. She swings her black hindquarters around to protect her sister and feels the stallion’s teeth sink into her hip. She squeals angrily, stomping a hind hoof in agitation, reaching around and snapping back at him. Being so close to him now makes her realize that she recognizes his scent.

”You knew Orkaan,” she says flatly, ignoring Nymphadora’s reproachful look at the mention of their old leader. ”Are you the one he stole that pregnant mare from? Is that why you’ve come?” Zephyra glares over at her sister. ”See? I warned him that someone would come looking for revenge one day. Didn’t I tell you how selfish he was?”

She realizes that the stallion is still trying to herd them toward the ocean, to take one or both of them back to whichever territory on Luthien is his. She bares her teeth at him again and almost snarls, ”We’re not going anywhere. Orkaan and your mare are both gone, so you may as well leave us alone.”