my waves meet your shore, ever and evermore;

Her conversation companion is nearly as white as the snow around them, but she seems relived to have found another person. Perhaps after last night’s snow, the sight of another warm body is a reassurance she needs that the rest of the world still exists. Isolation on Tinuvel has made Fearne feel that way sometimes – like there’s nothing but icy white snow and endless pine trees.

Fearne returns the mares soft chuff of amusement with one of her own. Does anyone actually enjoy this sort of weather? Not for the first time, Fearne regrets going from one extreme to another. Why Salem and Tinuvel, when temperate, reasonable Luthien is right there?

“You grew up near here? What possessed you to come back?” Fearne asks, fascinated that she returned. Her own grown children fled Tinuvel and the Bay as soon as they were old enough to do so - Merric to parts unknown, Fiadh off to find her own future and Mushroom spirited off with her father. Fell doesn’t really seem like the sort to be inspiring enough to stay (but then, Fearne has always favored impulsivity over stability).

“It’s nice to meet you Corvette,” she offers happily. “I’m Fearne.” She has no second name to give – they didn’t have those in the part of the Mainland that she came from, but she’s fascinated by this one.

“No,” she demurs. “I grew up on the mainland, far from here – and then spent some time in the Desert before coming with Mrgasira to Fell, in a trade for a mare held captive in the Bay.” Fearne shrugs one uninterested shoulder. She still didn’t entirely understand the situation, but she knew better than to look too deeply into an easy way out. “I suppose Tinuvel is better than Salem, but I find both to be miserable compared to home.” She cocks a head at Corvette and asks politely, “How long have you been in the Bay?”