Zion
In the winter, travel to and from Tinuvel was not quite as easy. The chill that always seemed to linger around the cold island almost seemed impossible to tolerate on the coldest winter days. Or perhaps it was that Zion’s blood was not quite as hot with youth as it once was. To fling himself into the angry water filled with floating ice chunks with the ambition and desire to make a name and a family for himself.
The unwillingness to brave the cold had him put off the swim for several days. Keeping him on the Crossing like a self-imposed cage. Despite the warmth (if winter could be called that) on this island, and the slightly more abundant grazing, Zion still found himself lonely. Though he did not seek the affection of his herd like Drakon did, it was still knowing that they were there. Catching their scent upon the wind, and the comfort of simply being home he had always taken for granted.
So, when he caught the faint scent of someone familiar, Zion couldn’t help but follow it. A million questions filled his mind as he did. Why was she here of all places? Why did the scent of the Lagoon mingle with her own? Was that something other he caught mixed with it, like Avarice and Dagon carried when they were in foal? When the scent ended at the edge of the water, Zion felt disappointment curl like a cruel claw in his chest. But as his green eyes ventured to the falling water, he saw her. Sabah’s grullo darkened to almost black mixed with the white of her markings; but he would recognize them anywhere despite only meeting her once. That had been more than enough.
Taking a few steps forward, Zion was up to his knees in the water along the bank when he stopped. Not wanting to disturb her, he only watched and waited.
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