There’s a lullaby on the frigid wind. I can hear it howling somewhere in the distance but it’s a gentle whisper by the time it reaches my ears. The cold has settled deep into my muscles, working hard to convince me that I’m exhausted. And maybe I am. So I rest, leaned up against the frosted-over trunk of a tree that’s frozen in time, snarling at the dim sky. About the time I’m settled with my eyes closed and my mind and body laid to rest I hear the tell-tale crunch of hooves on snow. For a split second I argue with myself, my cold-numbed muscles crying out for me to stay in stasis and my still-sharp instinct screaming for vigilance. My mood darkens further as I choose instinct over comfort.
 

I’m not surprised to be greeted by an unfamiliar face when I open my eyes, but I am relieved that he seems to be uninterested in sneaking up on me. Youth shines bright on his face and there’s something disjointed about his movements that betrays him and confirms his inexperience. The stiffness along my spine eases up a bit; this boy seems harmless, though I’m not entirely sure why he decided to drop in on me. I shoulder off of the tree, determined to stand on my own in the face of company even if I can’t feel the hooves that ground me. On second thought, perhaps this little winged boy came to investigate and see if I were truly half frozen to death. Wryly, I wonder if I am.
 

He drawls out his name, Ilios, and I force a twisted smile onto my chilled lips. I’ve about thawed my throat to speak when a second stallion wanders into our midst. I can appreciate this one both for his familiar looks and the spacey expression that covers his face. He sounds as confused as I feel. “Hi…” The syllable is heavy like my frozen tongue and it falls like a rock in the space between myself and the two strangers.
 

Another stallion, this time followed by a deer like I’ve never seen before, enters the scene and I start to wonder if this is some sort of strange payback for all the years I’ve spent living in near isolation. I blink away frost that’s collected on my lashes, my expression turned pensive as I survey the collection of stallions before me. The newest one offers a greeting and I nod tiredly, completely unsurprised when our group grows with the addition of one last stallion. This one’s definitely the loudest, in both color and attitude for he seems to have absorbed all the energy that the winter’s taken from me, and probably that of the spotted stallion, too.
 

Only after I’ve stood staring at the group for what has to have been too long not to be awkward do I remember that I’ve only said one word and it wasn’t my name. I might’ve been raised in a forest and instilled with a predisposition toward hermithood, but I do have some semblance of manners and I’m starting to get the idea that I chose to nap in some sort of welcoming ground. “I’m Sabriel.” The cold air creeps down my throat, burning as it goes. “I’m afraid I wasn’t expecting such a party.” My humor’s as dry as the cold winter air and I can’t help but wonder, where the hell am I?