Days and weeks bled into months, then seasons and before she knew it the Forest had gone almost a full year without her presence. She doubted that the land missed her, but she had certainly missed it.

"I'm home," she whispered to the ferns, letting their delicate fronds tickle her cheekbones as she lowered her head. "I'm home," she burbled along with the stream, dancing through the warm summery water. "I'm home," she sang to the birds that flew in deft swoops overhead, roused by her joyous cries.

"I'm home," her heart said to her head, and she willed herself to believe it.

But the Forest without Toland was a different beast than she had left it. The shadows felt a little darker, the nights a little longer, the currents a little wilder. Not altogether unwelcoming, per se, but less like a friend and more like a stranger. They watched each other - the Morrigan and the Forest - as they tried to get reacquainted.

"Do you think this tree shall be gold or orange?" She asked abruptly to the figure - as yet unseen - as she stood staring at a large, gnarled oak tree. The branches were old and twisty, carrying a huge canopy that sheltered the powdered-sugared mare from the summer sun. Her head tilted without looking to the other creature, entirely secure in her safety here. She knew not who had come to claim the Forest in Toland's absence, but she trusted that the trees would have told her if they were dangerous.