Emhyr's routine has been largely unchanged since taking over the Bay. He patrols twice a day - sometimes three times, if he's feeling particularly energetic or on edge about something - and spends the rest of his time keeping a keen eye on his small herd, if from a distance. He has made his home at the fringes of his family, existing happily in the periphery since the hazy days of his youth. That had not changed, and it had worked well for him so far. Besides, his small flock had proved quite capable of taking care of themselves.

Sometimes the urge to find trouble - to find danger - rears its head again. Sometimes he imagines giving into this urge: sneaking off into the wilderness and to foolishly taunt a bear and her cubs, or to try and race a wolf pack, or engage into a staring contest with a mountain lion, or see how sheer a cliff he could climb. He fondly remembers the filly he'd briefly called his friend and the short but exhilarating adventure they had shared so long ago. Time had consumed most of his thoughts of her, but now and then he would think on their time together and wonder where she went off to after they'd parted ways, or if he would ever see her again. But he was a leader now, and could not risk engaging in such behaviors or spend all his time wondering about things that once were.

Emhyr is on one of his occasional midday patrols, strolling with unhurried ease down the snowy shore, when a dark streak of movement in the distance catches his attention and pulls him from his wandering thoughts. Raven lashes narrow over warm earth-brown eyes, nostrils flaring as the wind shifts in his direction, bringing with it a feminine scent he does not recognize, even buried as it is beneath the sharp smell of salt.

Emhyr veers off his course and follows her hoofprints further inland. He catches sight of her amidst a copse of young trees, a fierce bounce to her step that conveys a sense of urgency - or perhaps determination. She looks as though she has just been spit out by the turbulent Tinuvel tides, briny droplets of liquid clinging to her coat and shimmering like so many tiny jewels beneath the speckled sunlight. But it is the scars that adorn her dusky coat that truly catch his eye, streaks of white smattered across her frame from nose to tail.

A quick canter delivers him to her side, his pace falling into line with her own. "Going somewhere?" he asks by way of greeting, making careful effort to not let his tone slide from inquisitive to demanding.