It had been so long since Freya was on Tinuvel. The last time she had seen its shores, she was being forced away from one of the only places she had ever called home; away from her children and the life she had worked so hard to build for herself and her herd. Her heart ached as the unpleasant memories flashed through her mind, but she knew she could not let them weigh her down. Although she had returned here on a whim more than anything, she was determined not to let this be an unpleasant situation. Still, coming in the winter - and in her condition - might not have been the best idea. Briefly, she wondered how long it had been since the first snowfall. Time seemed to blur together in the colder months, and even more so now that she was eagerly awaiting a special arrival.

As autumn bled into winter, the days grew shorter, and Freya's sides grew wider, a peculiar plumpness filling her belly. She knew what it was, and exactly how she had gotten into this situation. Part of her was terrified - she was growing older, and her body did not function like it had in years passed. She wondered if she could endure the task of childbirth again, if her old bones and weakening muscles could stand against the pains of labor. As if she had a choice now. It was by her own doing that she was here, and if her life was to be cut short bringing a new one into the world - well... it seemed like a fitting end.

Still, there were days when the guilt ran cold in her veins, freezing her from the inside out and turning her to ice. Even in the harsh of winter, she could feel it creeping through her body, a spine-tingling sensation that worked its way through her swollen belly, into her chest to grasp at her heart. Further and further it reached, up through her esophagus, dread choking her until she felt she could not breathe. Finally, it made itself at home in her brain, wracking her with thoughts that consumed and conflicted. Anxiety and anger warred within her, fighting for a spot in her already troubled mind.

Once upon a time, she might have let these tumultuous emotions eat her whole, given herself over to them with little resistance. But it had become so easy for her to push them away - now, they were little more than the occasional pest, a bug to be flicked away. Sometimes, the guilt still gnawed at her, awakening old wounds within her soul; but its visits were more infrequent, and its cruel blade had become duller over the years, less effective against the steely barriers of her heart. She felt proud of her ability to distance herself from such negativities. It had become a great strength in times of trouble.

Heaving a sigh, Freya did her best to let go of the emotions that ate at her. A flutter of movement in her belly reminded her that she had more to live for now than ever. The crispness of the wintry air strengthened her resolve, rejuvenating her soul and adding a bounce to her trot. She was eager to explore the [Bay/Prairie], biding her time until the weather let up and made the [pass/journey] to the Inlet more accessible. Slowing down to an easy-paced walk, Freya lifted her nose to the salty breeze, searching for anyone who might be lingering. Others had been here, but their scents were little more than whispers on the wind. Is it abandoned? she wondered, trekking further into the quiet territory.