the young palomino mare heard the call of bjorn; lifting her slightly twisted muzzle from the hillside of lush grass. her delicately curved ears turned to catch the sound but she stands still. she wonders, for a moment, if he would be angry at her disobedience but quickly decides she would rather face that than the curious stares and glances from the rest of the ridge’s occupants. she had never been very self conscious at the prairie but she was mostly in the company of close family there anyway… here, surrounded by strangers, she was much more thoughtful of her subtle deformity and how different she was in mannerisms… being surrounded by so many others and possibly being faced with the task of introducing herself seemed insurmountable, at least without daphne by her side. having made this decision she glances around cautiously, making sure she hasn’t been seen and slips silently into the trees along the crest of the hill.

a couple of days pass… while she is still desperately hoping to find her mother she cannot stifle the feeling of terror she gets when her dark brown eyes catch sight of the frothy waves down along the shore. even now, days after her turbulent swim, she still hasn’t ventured down to the beach. she is surprisingly lonely, despite her quiet nature. she is so used daphne’s constant chatter that the silence that surrounds her now puts her even more on edge. though she is nervous that bjorn will be somewhat displeased with her for ignoring his call to the herd she seeks him out anyway. she would rather face him and gain some company that remain alone and uncertain any longer.

her golden form glides gracefully through the trees searching for the painted stallion and a quiet whinny leaves her lips as she calls for him. she is uncertain how she will account for her actions when he receives her but is happy at the prospect of not being alone for a bit…