She had come to find water and some peace and quiet. A break from the everyday routine, just enough to keep the wanderlust at bay. It was sated for now, curbed by a long spell in the north as Erthë tried to escape the worst of the summer heat. She wasn't made for the climate south of the landbridge, her blood ran too cold; imbued with the last breath of winter, a child of the last snowstorm.

And her eyes turned icy indeed when she came upon the clearing and saw the man in the water, soaking wet and all attention focused on a pretty young pegasus. A filly, roughly the same age as herself. Maybe a bit younger even?

In hindsight, she would likely admit that it was stupid to jump to conclusions. In her defense however, it had been a very long time indeed since she had seen hide or hair of her father, and to have him sprung on her like this was so unexpected that Erthë couldn't think straight.

She looked at the stallion in the water. She looked, with narrowing eyes and lips pressed into a thin line, at the girl who had touched him with such familiarity, such intimacy. And she thought back on the long months of waiting and worrying, of searching and fretting and the shame of asking strangers for any news, anything at all that might tell her whether her last remaining blood relation was alive or not. Anger could not accurately describe the feeling that rose like bile in her throat, words were not enough to convey her outrage, her disappointment and pain.

All this time she had been waiting for him, and here he was, playing around with another child! His child? Erthë didn't know, didn't want to know.

What she did want was to kick that presumptuous bitch until she bled and apologized for being more important than herself. She wanted to yell, to rage, to take her dad back and somehow mend this broken, tattered family of theirs, make it whole and complete again.

But it was impossible, because there was a vital piece missing. How could they ever be whole again when Shadow was dead, rotten, long since turned to water and sand and food for vultures?  How, when all she knew about the man before her was that he had given her life and then disappeared, apparently unwilling to be a part of it.

The anger that had flared in her chest froze and turned to ash, cold and leaden in her guts, a weight that made her eyes burn and caused the jaws to grind furiously together, refusing to allow her lips to tremble. It hurt, oh how it hurt to realize just how broken their bond was, how thin it had been from the very start.

Erthë didn't want it to break, but nor did she think she could stand to face Vadim right now, not in front of this usurper of a child who had managed to break Erthë's heart without even knowing who she was.

The snow-child turned and made to leave, biting her own tongue to keep it from spilling the contents of her breaking heart across the forest floor.

He was alive. That was enough for now. It had to be enough.