Common

The Thicket had provided Gwyn with a safe place to call his own. It was guarded, both by him and the strong trees that wove their branches together like family. He had spent some time learning the nooks and crannies of the woods, he now knew where the best water was and the coziest moss bed. Even the birds knew him now, and he could recognize where he'd see which kind. In the southern portion of the Thicket there was a specific tree with many thick branches where a family of beautiful pale birds lived, but amongst them was a bird as gold as the sun. He often wondered if they'd come from the Savanna, their bright feathers so much like the swaying grass of the golden sea.

He'd lost Vesna. Though he'd found her strong and capable, and perhaps considered making her a queen, it was the exact reason why he did not attempt to fight for her back. Though their meeting had been brief, the scarred mare had made it clear she did not need anyone but herself. It would do her a disservice, he thought, if he ran screaming to Tinuvel demanding her return at the end of his teeth. She didn't need him. Any return to the Thicket would be by her own power.

However, that did leave the Thicket nearly empty. Ettie's presence was welcome and Gwyn enjoyed her company greatly, but one mare did not make a herd. He'd spent his early life being trained to be a herd stallion, and though he had broken away from his once-family that did not mean he had to abandon what he had been crafted for.

He'd been planning on returning to Luthien but the oncoming storm had given him pause. The angrier the sky became, the angrier the sea. And though Gwyn was a sufficient enough swimmer, it wouldn't take much to throw him off course. He was still unfamiliar with the rest of the islands and he did not want to end up there on a day without a plan. The trees of the Commons were a welcome and familiar comfort, though not as dense as his home. It did not take the ghost of Luthien long to spot the pale mare as she stood among the trees. He approached, near silent, his movement smooth despite his size.

"Do they speak to you, as well?" he asked, halting even with her but a few paces away. He leaned his shoulder against one of the trees at his side, cocking one of his hind hooves as he let his posture relax. "I find peace in their silence," he laughs quietly, "perhaps I should follow suit." After all, she seemed to be enjoying the quiet.