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The hour was quiet when she arrived, a sodden creature without past or name. These were burdens the copper mare had shed back on the mainland’s shore. If only she could have shed her memories as easily — left them piled beside the pale shells and smooth pebbles, and started this life completely new. Yet it still felt like a rebirth as the doe-like creature rose into a stand, her slender limbs shaking with weariness and her dappled coat damp with saltwater. To steady herself, she inhaled greedy mouthfuls of the crisp autumn air, her chest expanding until it felt she would burst. Nothing has ever tasted so good to her as those breaths, not even the lushest spring-grown grass. Nothing had ever felt as good as the wind running chilly fingers down her spine, or the little shiver that followed.

And yet…

Gold eyes flicking back towards the sea, she felt urgency flood her again. It wasn’t enough to simply come here to the end of the world; she had to lose herself in it. The mare’s flared nostrils told her that there were others of her kind nearby, and that was good. A herd, a home — safety from the dangers of the wild. A warm press of bodies in which she could conceal herself. The hope of these things was a comfort; one that carried her into the dark confines of the nearby forest. At four years of age, this journey marked the first time she’d been alone for longer than a passing moment. Her solitude pressed in on her more tightly than the trees, stalked her thoughts more menacingly than a wolf. She didn’t know how to be alone. And in a brighter world, perhaps she would have never needed to be.

Moving carefully through the trees, the chestnut woman let herself dream of the life that had been wrested away. A life in which she was surrounded by her family: her parents and siblings. Her betrothed and their children. A soft smile curled her lips upwards, but the heavy sorrow in her eyes remained. They would be scattered to the winds now, her family — scattered like the colorful leaves that were only just beginning to drift down from their trees. Ridire would, perhaps, manage to hold the strongest of her brothers together. But her sisters — the breath caught in her chest at the thought that one of them might be taken in her stead. Sweet Roithe, fierce little Faine. Would they suffer the fate whose grasp she had barely slipped from?

There was no exhilaration beneath the trembling of her body now. Slowing her strides gradually, the dappled mare came to a halt at the edge of a clearing. Curling herself around the broad trunk of an oak, she sought to borrow its strength and steadiness. There was nothing that she could do for those she’d left behind; the only path for her lay ahead now. Steering her thoughts firmly back to the present, she peered out from behind the tree at those who grazed in the meadow beyond. Watching them with something like fascination — or perhaps even fear.

Even from a distance, she could see the stark differences that separated these creatures not only from herself, but also from one another. There were horses so tall that they seemed almost part of the sky. Horses short enough that looked like strange, funny children. Ones with long hairs covering their hooves, others with almost no hair falling across their necks. And the colors — colors she could not have imagined. Coats like pale sand, coats as bright and red as blood, coats of a silvery blue like clouds in the night sky. For a long time, the copper woman could do nothing but stare. And even after her thoughts cleared, she remained where she stood, her heart fluttering against her ribs.

This world was nothing like the one she’d known, but it was hers now. And somehow, she needed to find a way to become part of it.