Slowly but surely, the seasons changed in the Bay. The warmth of summer was chased away by the chill of autumn. The trees slowly shed their verdant foliage and slipped into cloaks of vibrant red, burnished orange, and sunshine yellow. It was a beautiful sight to behold, the way the trees bejeweled the mountainside, how the sun dappled the forest floor in specks of golden light.

Emhyr made sure to appreciate it, soaking up the last rays of warmth he could before the harsh winter winds blew through the Bay, stripping the trees of their leaves and leaving the land barren beneath its touch. He stood now on the seashore beneath the cloudless sky, his hooves sinking slowly into the salt-soaked sand, the dark tendrils of his mane curling about his face and neck.

Breathing deeply, Emhyr considered his current circumstances - though they were, at best, quite… boring. He had done little to advance his standing on Tinuvel, too preoccupied with raising his children and ensuring the safety of his herd. Though he was mostly content, now, to keep to himself and hold the peace, he could not help but be accutely annoyed at himself. He'd had such grand plans when he took over in his father's stead, and they had all been slowly cast to the wayside.

But ultimately, Emhyr knew he would not change anything. He had been blessed with loving children, loyal mares, and a secure home. It was, in the end, all he could really ask for. It did not concern him that the Cove seemed to grow in numbers each week, or that he had not seen his neighbor in the Inlet for some time. He was content, and that was what mattered.

Loosing a deep breath, Emhyr let his lashes flutter closed, enjoying the way the sun warmed his back, and doing his best to think as little of the future as possible.