Bran was not sure what to do with himself. Ever since the day father returned without mother he felt himself in a haze. He stood there in the pebbled shore, the icy cold waters of the bay lapping at his smokey colored hooves. Pale silver blue eyes gazed over the horizon, flitting occasionally here and there to a few gray and white birds that soared high overhead. Why?

The question loomed in his mind but never was he able to bring them from his lips. Father had returned, his gaze hard and emotionless. He seemed rigid, tense even, but the most concerning part was the silence.

Liland had climbed from the surf that day, Bran's searching eyes rising to meet his for an answer but the pale stallion had simply nuzzled his brow and walked past. The action, though minuet, solidified it for the young colt. Mother was gone. Sobs choked behind his eyes, his small heart wrent in two but he does not speak them aloud. Instead, he clung to Rayna. His solace. She was the carefree spirit he had been and his only comfort left still. Nights found him curled at her side, and days spent trailing at her heels, her ever loyal guardian. The days began to pass without change, always the same.

Except this morning.

Vaguely he remembered her. The pale mare and two twins that rose from the surf. For a moment his glacier eyes had brightened, hoping that it was Larka. It never was. He watched silently as she and the foals trotted towards father and immersed themselves in what he was sure was meant to be a private moment. He watched silently, a single ear flickering before turning once more away, a heavy sigh upon his lips as he sent his gaze back over the frigid oceans, wondering not for the first time, if mother was still out there... somewhere... and if she missed him as he missed her.