The forest had remained unchanged in his absence.

A more greedy man would have been more desperate to be the sole owner of the trees and the coast that lay here. Tentatively, the stallion had struck a deal with the roan woman. He, offering his knowledge of the forest and an extra set of eyes and ears, his body fresh and strong having been spared from the battle that had ripped through the land- and she, offering him a home.

So he had managed to come home.

His real home- not like the far away mountains that he had found shelter and lived his life for some time.

Persephone’s words had unnerved him, and he had dutifully taken to wandering the familiar paths of the forest, forever watching and listening. There were strangers that came and went, and he was a great red shadow hiding amongst the trees. Tracking faces and what names he heard whispered, holding them to report back to his now-queen.

Eventually, she would see him as an asset, and she would be more willing to welcome him to her fold.

There is a subtle commotion in the trees, and his attention is yanked in the direction of the painted mare. Her hooves crash to the ground and she seems to fitfully wander, absentmindedly grabbing at the grass as she walks. Following quietly behind her, there is the scent of the trees upon her, and he knows this is her home, as much as it is his now. Shortly, he calls out softly to her. “Hello?”