Common

The Thicket herd had grown by a bit, though it was more by happenstance than a concentrated effort by Gwyn. Ettie had happily accompanied him home from the mainland, though the others had trespassed in the wrong place at the wrong time. Gwyn wasn't mean, or a villain, and if they truly wished to leave he would probably step aside. It had been his desire to be something that had driven him to claim them, but he did not wish to be his father. He did not want to be the monster that plagued his dreams for anyone else.

The water of the sea had been icy against his coat, and he was thankful that despite his time away from the eternal winter of his homeland that he was still able to grow a coat. It had grown thin in the warmer months since his arrival in the Lost Islands. Salt and seawater clung to him, the pale of his coat sparkling like fresh snow.

It did not take him long in his walking to find Xalia. She stuck out, bright yellow and cream, against the dark green of the towering trees and surrounding grasses. The war of his father's teachings and his own heart came to life again like a whirring motor and he shook it away with a toss of his pale face.

"How does the sunlight survive beneath such heavy shadow?" he questions with a raise of his brow, pale forelock falling away from the startling blue of his ice-crafted eyes. Despite his strange greeting, Gwyn does not do much else to disturb her, instead he lowers his own head to graze, letting his eyes fall closed in thought.