When the call came above the waves, beckoning toward the herd idly grazing, both Zevulun and his son, Lohan, lifted their heads from the summer grasses to glance the direction it’d come. The Prairie saw its fair share of visitors and, given its established reputation for peace, had even become a safe harbor for those attempting to escape. Most times when a new call came, Zevulun would allow one of his older sons to investigate in his stead and would choose instead to remain with the main conglomerate of the herd. This time though there was something to the call that pulled him forward and made him snort as Lohan turned as if to walk down toward the beach himself.

“I’ll go this time,” He said gently, reaching out to offer his son an affectionate nudge along his shoulder before continuing onward and moving away from the Prairie inland.

He had not let himself daydream of lost lovers coming ashore to him, having learned the lesson long ago of what pain he’d cause the others who loved him if he lamented after those who were gone. Still, the sight of the dark mare with silver hair down the way was unmistakable, stopping Zevulun in his steps the moment she came into view. For a brief moment he wondered if he was dreaming and, then, knowing this was reality, he whinnied out happily down to her.

She was okay.

Zevulun tossed his head, sending his pale hair fluttering out behind him, and picked his knees up a little higher to his chest as he started down the way to her. He couldn’t let himself get away with wondering why she was here or where she had gone, he only felt consumed by the joy of seeing her again. Even still, he didn’t think about how much he’d changed since Sabriel last saw him. The inside of his back left leg was scarred, hair no longer able to grow where the sharp claws of the mother bear who’d attacked him had gouged his flesh damn near to the bone. There were a few similar, yet shallower gashes along his flank and left hip, though nothing quite as wretched and life-threatening as the injury to his leg had been. He did not limp as he moved (it only seemed to stiffen and trouble him the morning after he’d been too active the day before, or when the weather grew freezingly cold) so it was just as likely it might take her time to take note of the years-old injury.

“Sabriel,” He breathed her name like a sigh of relief, the same he felt at seeing her whole and seemingly well. His smile grew and, unable to help himself, he reached for her once he was near, wanting the pleasure of taking in her sweet scent and touching his lips to her skin once more.