The cold of the sea spray against her skin might as well have been a wisp of air for all Dior took notice of it. The stallion she'd left the Crossing with now traveled to the mainland with his kin. He'd asked her to follow, despite the shell she'd gained in the nearly two years they had been together. Dior had promised to follow after finding her mother Vogue. After her father's passing when the girl was younger, there was nothing in her that could bring herself to leave the islands for an extended time without first telling her mother so that she wouldn't worry.
Staring out over the eastern sea, the dunalino remembered being so eager to fly into the water with Toland, to come ashore and start a new life and family in the Forest. Her dearest wish -- to become a mother -- had been denied her for two autumn's now. She would be forced to watch the emergence of countless little ones with coats of downy fluff and feel the empty ache within her heart grow deeper. Dior turned away from the sea then and headed deeper within the Meadow.
The memory of watching her mother dart north after her rambunctious little sister Versace seemed like yesterday. Dior had tried to visit Vogue the spring that had followed when the first sting of infertility pricked at her. The Harbor had been claimed by another stallion than the one she'd known, a name she'd now forgotten. Vogue had not returned then after parting ways in the Commons. Now Dior ventured that she would wander back to the north and the Peak, where Versace had been racing toward. Perhaps the little filly had convinced Vogue to start a new era as Dior had been trying to do for herself.
It was a hope, and she clung to it.