Valka and Bacardi have both disappeared, gone with the changing of the seasons. The Bay is left empty in their wake, and Svenja is left wondering why her family continues to fall apart around her. First mother, now dad and Valka... all gone. What could have possibly happened to make them leave their beloved home so suddenly? The leaders she knew wouldn't have just up and abandoned their home, and Svenja frequently finds herself fretting about the situation, mind racing with terrible possibilities.

But soon she frets about something new: a stranger that comes to replace them. She knows it's a stallion by his smell, but not what he looks like or who he might be. He boldly claims the land for his own, his scent growing thicker on the air every day. She and Kvasir somehow manage to evade the interloper, keeping to the dense forest and high mountains that line the border where the Bay, Arch, and Inlet converge.

Kvasir is just about old enough to be weaned, and Svenja knows she'll have to find a new place to go soon, especially now. She's fully aware of the danger her son faces just by staying within these borders. Each day that passes increases their likelihood of being found out, and the sabino mare's not naïve enough to think that a stallion would be so accepting of a child that isn't his, especially a male child. But there's nothing she can do about it right this minute, short of seeking out this stranger and pleading her case to him, and she needs to keep her head level if she's going to continue keeping Kvasir safe.

If only she had Nuka with her.

A heavy sigh rushes from Svenja's lips at the thought of her friend. She misses him and his sour attitude, and often wonders where he'd gone off to once they'd parted ways in the Crossing those months ago. If he were here he'd help her, provide the protection she's ill-equipped to provide herself. But they're miles apart now and she is alone in a thicket on a mountainside with only luck keeping her and her son safe.

At least they've made it through another night.

It's almost dawn but the sun is still below the horizon, night's inky veil slow to lift today. The air is frigid and the snow falls in spits and flurries, but none sticks to the ground yet. Svenja's lived on Tinuvel long enough to know the first true snowfall is still weeks away. When it comes she'll be forced to relocate, but for now she and Kvasir spend their time lingering in this small copse of trees.

The colt slumbers at her hooves, oblivious to the chill. For a long time the pair's only company is each other, and the insects and birds that trill their tunes in the woods. But rather suddenly the breeze shifts away from her and the forest goes quiet, an odd stillness taking over. It sets the young mare on edge, head rearing up and blue eyes darting around in a frantic search for whatever has caused this sudden, unnatural silence.

Quickly she spots a shadowy figure weaving through the trees. The murky outline stalks steadily toward her. The sky above has grown lighter but the woods remain shrouded, inhibiting her ability to see clearly who or what might be approaching. Immediately Svenja takes a defensive stance over her son's sleeping form, dark ears flipped back into her mane as she tries to steel her frightened expression into something closer to bravery. But she's not feeling very brave, her body trembling with fear as the figure gets closer, the sound of snapping twigs and crunching leaves deafening in the quiet.

Kvasir continues to sleep deeply below her, blissfully oblivious. She dare not call out for fear of waking and frightening him and so she remains silent and waits, ready to defend the sleeping boy with her life.