The moment at the very top of the Ridge seemed to stretch on forever as Faolain and Rivaini gazed out over the densely forested valley. She realized the way they had climbed was probably the only available path to this place; to her left, the Ridge curved along the island, dropping down in a flat cliff face to vicious rocks and hungry waves. There was no sand there. To her right, the slope to the sea was a bit gentler, but the forest became too dense to travel through easily, and the land still dropped severely at the bottom. Further inland there might be paths to access the other parts of the island, but Faolain was not yet prepared to visit the neighboring territories — that would come later, when they had settled.

For now, the blanket of jungle provided a comfortable barrier between the inland peaks of the Ridge and the rest of the island. This place would be safe; it was isolated and easy to defend, probably difficult to find if one was not extremely lucky as Faolain and Rivaini had been. Faolain could hear Rivaini speaking of fortune, and felt the gaze on the side of her face, but she felt very far away in that moment. As she brought her own eyes to meet Rivaini’s, she felt pulled back — pulled right into Rivaini’s blue eyes. For once, Faolain’s own dark gaze was not guarded; she knew her feelings of breathless joy, almost giddiness, were clearly visible. "Yes," she agreed. "I feel as if we’ve been led."

A gentle smirk tugged the corners of Faolain’s dark lips, and she couldn’t tell if the playfulness she felt was a mirror of Rivaini’s mischievous gaze or her own, but it did not matter. Before she could say anything, her friend’s teeth whisked the air by Faolain’s shoulders, and a squeal of good-natured offense rose from her throat. "That is unfair," she yelled, taking off after the red mare. "Your legs are longer than mine!" Laughing, she scrambled after her companion, relishing the struggle of the steep slope coupled with the dense trees. She had not played in this manner since she was very young, and the dark mare realized immediately that she had been missing out on something wonderful. Faolain loved to run, but she never realized how thrilling it was to chase. She slipped through the trees like ink flowing down the hillside, but Rivaini had truly taken advantage of her head start and was too far ahead to beat. Not letting this dampen her fun, Faolain reached the bottom and continued full-throttle to the edge of the lake and its tiny little beach of sand. She skidded to a halt, then turned to her companion, her ears forward and nostrils flared with the rush of their race. A very childish smile was spread across her dark face as she trotted to Rivaini’s side once again. "I would like a rematch," she demanded, but made no move to ascend the ridge once again.

Her breathing was slowing as her lungs drank in the humid air, but her heart continued to pound. She began to realize she was terribly itchy from the salt, and presumably Rivaini was too, so Faolain reached out to the reddish mare’s marked withers and began to groom them. The sand surrounding their little lake would make for a good place to roll, but nothing beat a good itch to get the worst of the salt out first. "I hope Iscariot is not worried," she said absently as her blunt teeth scraped the brine from Rivaini’s fur. "This place is much better than I imagined."

A few months ago Faolain would have mourned the end of her solitary nomad life, but now she did not even think of it. She had always thought she handled change well, with her fluid lifestyle and the constant movement, but it occurred to her now that she had never really experienced change. Her life had been consistent in its inconsistency, and now Faolain was experiencing something truly new; rather, several truly new things. It was, in some ways, uncomfortable; all change was. But the bonds she felt for Rivaini and Iscariot were too strong to deny, and in a way she found comfort in that. There was, after all, some measure of comfort to be found in relinquishing control, and Faolain had sought to control every aspect of her life since she had lost her family. This felt like resting, in some ways. It felt more like moving on than her physical travels.

As it had above the Valley, this moment seemed to stretch into infinity, and Faolain felt at peace in this new place.