Björn did not keep her waiting. The Icelandic stallion burst into view, earth and pebbles spraying from his hooves as he slid to a halt before her. It was an impressive display, and Faolain took a single step back, but the grullo did not otherwise appear aggressive. He appraised her with an expression Faolain could not identify, the ghost of a smirk still lingering on his lips.

She had expected coolness, even hostility, but the Icelandic’s words were almost friendly. On top of that, he simply seemed different; though she had only known him very briefly, it was not the stallion of the Ridge who stood before her. She could never know what Björn had gone through to lead him into the shadows of the jungle for so long, but whatever ghost she had seen haunting him through their one meeting was no longer present. He seemed to belong here, in the crisp air of Tinuvel, surrounded by hardy cedars and frost. Faolain’s attention was brought to her own strangeness here. She liked the cold, though she shivered; even the heights of the Ridge where the air was thin and cool were still warm in comparison to the brisk Inlet autumn. Faolain was out of place here, and she knew it.

”Björn,” she said, her tone even, neutral. She had not quite recovered from his greeting, so warm compared to what she had expected, but she reached out politely in response to his offered muzzle. His whiskers brushed her velvety, thin-furred nose, making it tickle. ”Ah, thank you. I wanted to talk, if that’s alright. And congratulate you on your victory, of course. The Inlet suits you.” She offered a stiff but genuine smile, her dark amber eyes looking over the new Inlet king’s thick coat. Somehow, she had avoided anxiety on the swim over, but it gnawed at her gut now despite her best efforts to remain unaffected. The Inlet suited Björn, yes; and it made him intimidating.

Faolain flicked her silky tail against her flanks, frustrated with herself, but hiding it beneath the very real shivers that rippled through her muscles. ”I understand it is rude of me to show up unannounced like this,” she said, forcing her voice to remain smooth as she let the shivering rack her body. She knew it would subside as she adjusted to the climate, but it was annoying while she was trying to speak. ”Well, I haven’t exactly been polite toward you at all, though I’m not known for good behavior,” she said with a dry laugh. She fell silent then, waiting for his reaction. The questions she had been thinking of on the way to Tinuvel had been pushed to the back of her mind at Björn’s heavily-accented greeting, but they bored once again into the forefront of her mind. Why the Inlet? Surely Faolain would have been an easier target than Warsaw, an infamous and powerful leader.

”I thought you would come back,” she admitted, not sure how else to begin. The shivers were persistent, but slowly they lessened in intensity and she no longer had to strain to keep her voice from quivering. ”I certainly would have lost that battle if you had,” she said with another dry chuckle.