Eve was so caught up in her own sorrow that she was oblivious to the chestnut’s presence until she heard his loud call. She glanced up, blinking at him through her tears just as he snorted. The blanketed mare was acutely aware of how vulnerable she was; she was at this man’s mercy. On first impression he appeared angry, but she took some solace in the fact that he stopped a good distance away from her. Had he really meant her harm, she was certain he would have attacked immediately.

The roaned mare debated whether she should stand. It would probably be wise, but she could feel that her legs were still exhausted. She decided to stay where she was, lying upon the brittle blades of grass as snow settled on her back. Her breath came in soft puffs of mist as she waited for him to say something, anything really. When she could wait no longer, Eve turned her soft gaze back up to him with an apologetic expression. “I am sorry for trespassing, but I am looking for my father. I was born here, you see.” Her voice was soft; he would have to strain to hear her. “He’s…he’s got a white face, and the rest of him is red and white, too. His name is Gnome. Do you know of him?” Her voice cracked on the last word, and tears welled in her eyes once again as she awaited his response.