After painstakingly digging a little grave, one hoof-full of dirt at time, Mizuki had laid her poor baby to rest, uttered a silent prayer for them to rest in peace before she turned her back. Since that horrible day, about nine months ago, she had not been back to that little copse. Nor had she wandered that stretch of shore she used to be tethered too. Finally she had accepted that this was her home now. When she wasn’t trailing after Nicodemus she had been slowly exploring the Inlet. She wasn’t stalking the herd lead, and even if she was eavesdropping in his conversations she still didn’t understand everything he said, she just simply found comfort being in his presence.

Today she busied herself with grazing at the edges of the herd preparing herself for the scarcer times ahead. Winter was just around the corner and her grey coat was starting to thicken. Soon she was going to look like a big, soft, fluffy poof ball. And her hair wasn’t the only thing that was growing. There was a shred of guilt that gnawed away at her conscience; the thought that she had replaced her lost baby with another. But she couldn’t be controlled by her grief forever and the burden grew steadily lighter with each passing day. Of course she would never forget her loss.

A call distracts her from her grazing and she lifts her head to see the spitting image of Nicodemus in the clearing. Obviously this was one of his foals. A small smile spreads across her lips as she wonders if her baby will look something like that. She knew he wasn’t calling for her. Barely anyone here spoke to her, and to be fair she could make more of an effort to speak to them. Well, here’s a chance. Swallowing her last mouthful of grass the short gray mare walked slowly, yet determinedly towards the young colt. “You called?” There was still a thick foreign accent to her soft voice but she hoped the young one could understand her.