She could still feel where he had returned the favor of his touch. It burned in her mind like a new brand, scorched into her memory. It was nothing like that of course. She doubted that Bjorn would intentionally hurt her, now or in the future, but in her mind it might as well be a scarlet letter carved into her shoulder. The swim had left little time for talking, and therefore a lot of time for thinking and she could feel her own insecurities threatening to creep in and take over.

His death meant she was no longer beholden to him, no long his, but understanding was taking it's sweet time to reach her heart. Every so often the out-of-body feeling, the internal knowledge of not-belonging, almost threatened to swallow her up. It almost did as she waited on the rocky shores of the Ridge, as she waited for Bjorn to return, but she stuffed it down somewhere deep in her soul and physically shook off the feeling. Needing the physicality of movement to ground her, Siobhan started inward.

She didn't intent to go far into the Ridge without Bjorn or some other friendly face. It may be her new home on paper, but she was still very much a stranger. A newbie. And she had no idea how the rest of the herd would feel about another newcomer.

The red spotted mare made her way to what seemed like an oft-used crossing, a short distance from the beach where Bjorn had brought her ashore. Though she didn't immediately see anyway, she called out softly for anyone - Bjorn or otherwise - that may be near.