Kvothe was far too distressed about her daughters’ disappearance to pick up on the concern that colored both her new companion’s voice and gaze. She did note the absence of warmth in the tobiano woman’s words, but considering their content… it was easy to chalk that up to an apprehension that was equal to her own. The Cove. If her King had truly removed the herd’s children for the sake of their safety, then he had chosen a poor place to bring them. Too well the chestnut mare remembered the chilling song of wolves, and the bedlam that had followed. Too well she knew - though she had not gone to see - the dangers that could claim a life in that place. Even the death of Ironclad’s sire could be attributed to the Cove, which had not been safe despite the great populace of their kind that it sustained. Which was maybe so unsafe because of the disproportionate size of Solomon’s herd.

With that many in one place, there were more eyes to watch - but that applied just as easily to the predators who hunted in the region as well.

The painted dun’s gaze lingered on Kvothe’s appearance again, and this time the slender Friesian - her primary concern addressed, if not abated - noticed the questions that rippled just beneath the surface of the Queen’s gaze. And for the first time since she had left with the chimeric and kind stranger, the red woman felt a sense of the consequences that she might face. At the time, nothing had mattered more than locating Pike and returning her home. She had counted on Ironclad’s relief at knowing the palomino filly was safe overriding the fear and anger that her abrupt disappearance would inspire in him. But she had failed in her mission, and more - she had made a grievous mistake. Now, Tyr would suffer the remnants of the guilt and sorrow that should have never been his burden to bear. And her King… what would he do, when he found out what she had done?

Heart hammering in her chest, Kvothe swallowed hard against the lump that had begun to form in her throat, and cast her gaze downward. Yet she still answered - addressing the ground at Medusa’s hooves - because she was still good, she was still obedient. She hadn’t meant to - to - “I - I left the Inlet,” she murmured, feeling shame coat her tongue like ash. “I didn’t want to,” the auburn creature hastened to add, afraid that her companion might think she was rebellious, or unhappy - neither of which could be further from the truth. Before last night, life had been more than she could have ever dreamed. And now, everything was all tangled and knotted, and she couldn’t see a way to fix it. “-but Pike, she snuck off. I - I wasn’t watching her close enough. And Ironclad… maybe he was right to take them away.” Kvothe hadn’t wanted to try and play on the Queen’s sympathies, but the tears came before she could hold them back. SIlently and slowly, but as unmistakable as the self-recrimination in her voice.

“This is my fault… he was just trying to help me, and…” Buried beneath a freshet of new tears, the slender woman could not continue. But given the condition she'd been found in - and the scents that clung to her coat - it wasn't so hard to guess what had happened to her away from the Inlet.