Word got around the islands, even if it was rather slow. A little poking and prodding along the way got him the names of the herd leaders who needled at the Lagoon. The funniest one (and also the saddest) was of a young mare who apparently kept herself an entire hoard of lovers, who kept pestering at the Lagoon for her next little prizes and the ones she’d already romanced. Psychedelic wondered what his grandfather would’ve thought of it all. If Hallucinogenic had a grave he was probably rolling around in it on repeat with all the ways the Lagoon kept being reduced to the (pardon his language) shitshow it now was.

After he made his move against the silver-haired witch for taking Rehobam (even if he was one of the idiots working in tandem for a “better Lagoon”), Psychedelic knew what his next move needed to be.

So he swam for Tinuvel, despite the fact that he hated it almost as much as Salem.

It wasn’t so bad in late spring, even better in summer. Tolerable. The cold didn’t bite into his skin and snow didn’t pile up to his chest or higher. Psychedelic let the saltwater roll in waves off his painted body as he trudged up the dark beach and moved inland with little hesitation. Borders meant little to him and he wasn’t much one for respect, especially when it was a leader who’d targeted the Lagoon in the past. Psychedelic wouldn’t be letting out a little call and waiting like a good boy by her borderline for her to come and investigate his arrival.

He decided instead to just walk on through.

Psychedelic’s pale hooves scraped against the hard ground as he came to a jerked stop, finally seeing a figure up ahead of him. Two figures, he noted, eyes brushing down the young mare’s body to the little spindly-legged youth by her side. His eyes narrowed. He was thinking about Bane, needing to find her, needing to see if she’d held up her end of the bargain she’d never wanted but had been important.

Focus, dummy. We can worry about the possible rugrat later.

Psychedelic snorted and blinked as the voice grumbled like a dull echo in his head, then refocused on the mare ahead of him. If he could, he’d have let out a low whistle, but instead he only sighed a breath and gave his head a small shake, looking almost sympathetically at her. “My, my, my, it’s kind of quiet here…” His eyes fell to her child. “Is this one going to make you come needle at the Lagoon some more? Did you tempt one of the boys there again?”

He hadn’t even introduced himself, but he threw the questions out anyways, gold eyes flashing back up to hers.