Iona followed the sound of the gently tinkling bells across the wind and it seemed like Helovia just wasn’t done surprising her.  She circled from above, trying to make sense of what her eyes were showing her but knew that such was futile – there was no sense where there was magic.  It was clear that this was another tradition that was unfamiliar to Iona, she didn’t need anyone to tell her that.  The bells had drawn the others, and they seemed less surprised by the great tree and its master.  Iona landed quietly but remained on the outskirts even though there were familiar faces littered around the gathering. 

So many greeted each other with familiarity and kindness – the tensions between individuals and between herds were left behind as bells chimed and lights twinkled. It made Iona’s heart feel lighter than it had in ages, but so heavy at the same time.  She missed what she had left behind – her family, her sons.  But it took something like this to realize she had a family here too. 

Here she had her sister and young Naerys.  Here she had met the curious little Erthe who had woven her way into the painted woman’s heart.  And there were her herdmates to consider too – who had all become important to her in ways that the resistance fighters never had before.  They had been discouraged from growing attached during the endless war, but here things were different. She recognized Tembovu and Mauja amongst the crowd – stallions who had earned her respect and as such her loyalty. 

The most important observation was when Iona saw her sister – the other half of herself and her reason for being in Helovia at all. For a moment, the shadows were gone from Alysanne’s eyes – and for that she was grateful to this strange creature.  Whatever this was, whatever magic was here – it had lifted the burdens on her sister’s soul and in doing so had breathed new life into her painted twin.

Iona needed no gift other than to see Alysanne happy again. 
That’s all she had ever wanted. 

For the first time in a long time, all was calm in Iona’s mind. 

”Thank you,” she offered, to no one in particular.  To the situation?  To the tree? To the turtle? She didn’t care - as long as Aly kept smiling. She was just thankful.