Winter was approaching its end, but she was not leaving quietly. Another storm had blown through the Bay overnight, the wind howling through the valley as the snow fell in thick sheets of blinding white. Emhyr had hunkered down with the herd amidst the sturdy pines which bore the brunt of mother nature's icy wrath, shivering against the subzero winds with Enid and Enver huddled at his side.

As morning approached the storm cleared, dull grey skies giving way to the warming sun and the roar of the wind replaced by the sound of birdsong. The freshly fallen snow that blanketed the bay glittered against the backdrop of ice-laden conifers. Emhyr quietly slunk from his hiding spot amongst the trees and made his way towards the river for a drink. Even in the coldest of winters it remained unfrozen, the churning waters immune to the effects of the cold.

Snow collected and clumped on his legs as he trudged across the territory, the tips of his ebony tail matted and weighed down with ice. As emhyr adventured towards the heart of the Bay he let his mind wander, his thoughts drifting towards Tinuvel as a whole. Daciana, once queen in the west, had lost her claim to another, her feminine scent replaced by something notably more masculine. Emhyr was wholly unfamiliar with the stallion who had taken the Cove, but was keenly aware that he would need to pay him a visit soon. It had been over a year since Emhyr had taken hold of the Bay in his father's absence, and if he were to follow in Solomon's hoofprints, he would need to take action soon. Complacency would be his own worst enemy when it came to uniting the frigid island under his rule.

A heavy sigh huffed past his whiskered lips as he stopped at the river's edge, peering down into the still waters that burbled against the frozen bank. His father's face stared back at him, and Emhyr once again wondered when it would be that he would see his sire again. Rumor had it that fell was alive and well on salem, but the young king had not mustered up the willpower to make the swim to him. A part of him was afraid of knowing why his father had not returned to the Bay, of discovering that he was content in his new home, that he had no desire to return to his family. Mother had been a wreck following Fell's disappearance, and Emhyr was worried that he might find only indifference in his sire. The thought of Fell willingly abandoning the mare he'd called his mate for years stung more keenly than any burr.

A shake of his dark crown dispelled such thoughts, the black curtain of his mane shifting against the curve of his neck as he lowered his head to drink, the frigid water sluicing refreshingly down his throat as the winter sun warmed his back.