The speckled mare was happy to be on her way after her encounter with Mariael and Zevulun. They had received her kindly, but she was eager to step hoof back in the Inlet with her son in tow. It was as empty as Mariael had said; not a soul in sight. If it weren't for the smell of others lingering on the wind, the old queen would think it had not seen life in years.

She lingered about the island for a few days, intent on leaving once the weather cleared a bit and the warm summer temperatures returned. The summer storms had rolled in early this year, dark clouds lingering on the horizon for days before finally crashing ashore. But then, something stopped her. Or rather, someone. There was someone else here, she had noted with a start, nose to the wind and Baldr tucked safely at her side. The scent was decidedly masculine, a strong musk that invaded her senses and prickled at her skin.

"Stay close," Freya murmured to her son, who gave an obedient nod and pressed himself further to his mother's side. She had never met a stallion who presented a threat to the well-being of her children, but the former queen was not about to take a chance. Moving briskly across the tundra, she followed the scent to the far side of the Inlet, becoming more alert with each step she took. Finally, after clearing a small copse of trees, he came into view: a strong-bodied stallion with a coat of steel and snow. He carried himself like a king would, and she knew instantly that she was looking upon the new leader of the Inlet. It seemed Mariael's claim to the throne of Tinuvel was contested now.

Part of her felt bad for the pale mare; how glorious it would have been to see a strong woman like her ruling over an Island by herself. Underneath, a sense of jealousy and possessiveness simmered. The Tinuvel had always been her home. To know it belonged to someone else now.... Freya huffed to herself, stamping indignantly at the frozen ground. "Mama? What's wrong? Who is that?" Baldr questioned, peering up with big blue eyes at his mother. She did not answer, instead lifting her head and letting out a shrill whinny.

Would he allow her to approach and receive her as Mariael had? Would he chase her off? Worse - would he make her stay, trapping her inside his borders? Briefly, Freya's mind flashed back to Persephone and the Forest. She had just made a home there, and to be torn from it now would be heartbreaking.