Afterwards, he could never quite remember what he had been doing during those long months of madness. What few memories he had were faded and vague, not unlike scenery beheld from a distance. Hazy, indistinct. Whenever he tried to recall places, faces and names he was left dissatisfied with a bad taste in his mouth, the way a spoiled apple haunt taste buds with a sensation that should have been pleasant but ended up disappointing. What he could remember were scenes of fire and destruction, pain ghosting through every limb and muscle and a distinct feeling of having aged - though nothing in his outward appearance would suggest that. No, on the outside Lace looked the same as he always had; scarred and branded, god-touched and with the vigor and strength of a stallion in his prime. If anything he was a bit thin over the ribs, but it was nothing compared to how he had looked this winter past, the slight fever that dimmed the amber eyed nothing at all when considering how only a season ago he had been ravaged by a raging inferno determined to consume him from the inside and out.

All things considered, he was lucky to have survived the plague. As Birdsong faded and the sun rose higher and hotter in the sky the grullo began to search his way back to his old stomping grounds. Succumbing to a sudden longing for familiar faces and well known terrain, he turned southward and roved through the deep forests, following winding animal trails and seldom used paths. He didn't hurry his steps, didn't run headlong beneath the shaded canopies - the pace was steady, slow, almost hesitant. While Lace did miss his friends, the horses he had considered as his family and home, he wasn't altogether convinced that they would be glad to see him. Hadn't he failed them? Hadn't he been in a position of power and responsibility only to leave them behind and run to save his own sorry ass? Guilt and shame were his constant companions, and never had he felt them weigh so heavily on him as they did now. Not even Fajira could manage to reassure him, because the white dragon felt just as irresponsible and traitorous as he. For one short season she had been a queen, ruled alongside her golden sister like an equal - there was no way a fall from such heights would leave them unscathed, the same as before.

Nevertheless they returned, because the alternative was too painful. Neither horse nor dragon felt any longing for the open road anymore, they weren't as young as they once had been. They longed for different things now, for peace and quiet and that fleeting tranquility that only came with stillness of mind. When the nights aged and sleep deepened they dreamed new dreams, of eggs in a nest and long legged foals prancing over flowering meadows, of someone to love and hold and stand by... None of that could be found without effort. None of it would be attained if he kept running away when things got rough, like he had so many times before.
This time they would return to stay, to make peace with themselves and others, and maybe manage to move on to something new, something better.

It was with mixed trepidation and anticipation they emerged into the forests of the Threshold, once more surrounded by the mingling scents of horses. Fajira warbled excitedly as she kept flitting to and fro among the tree trunks, pointing out tracks on the ground, every sign of movement in the shrubbery that might belong to a loved one. Lace nodded and smiled, and all the while his heart kept pounding furiously in the chest, a rapid beat urging him to forget all reservations and just charge on... It was just as well that they didn't come across anyone just yet, he wasn't even sure that he wasn't contagious anymore.