Freya felt glad that the ivory-splashed stallion did not acknowledge any previous encounter between them. To an outside eye, it might seem they were two strangers meeting for the first time. Offering a polite smile, she turned her attention to Baldr as he beamed up at the pair. "My name is Baldr, and this is my mom!" He exclaimed, motioning with his nose towards the roan mare. "Yes, my name is Freya. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mariael and Zevulun. Thank you for receiving us so kindly."

Mariael's words made Freya's heart feel heavy. Of course, she had known for some time that the Inlet had been dead. Her and Dogun had surely been the last to sow their seeds and see a thriving herd there. Still, to hear the words - it ached. "Queen of Tinuvel? The entire island?" The old mare sought clarification from the two younger horses, confusion tinting her grayed features. "That's quite a feat. As for me, well, I used to live in the Inlet. I was queen there, many years ago, alongside my former mate." She sincerely hoped her words would not upset the new queen; at her age, she was no more a threat to the younger female than a child. And as the years went on, Freya found her desire to lead fading, replaced by the simple want of a quiet and peaceful life.

"If my memory serves, the leader here at the time was a stallion named Soljor. Did you know him at all?" She pressed further, seeking out any connection she might share with the newly crowned queen and her brother. Meanwhile, Baldr had busied himself with flouncing about the trio, chasing a moth from flower to flower and kicking at errant snowdrifts.