“Hold as many as you can” Sacre instructed his two fox companions, who sat on his back with their tails curled around hordes of acorns that the red-stained boy added to as he picked them up one by one. The Oaks in the forest apparently didn’t only drop their leaves during Orangemoon. With winter approaching soon Sacre thought it wise to find some extra food now, though what he could find on his own was small and wouldn’t feed the entire herd. Yet, if he could help the younger populace, like this years foals, then his picking won’t have been for nought. He only stopped his search when sunset signalled the appearance of the moon and Sacre smiled to the Goddess above before continuing on through the forest. Perhaps it was time to find shelter, guided by the light of his patron and his half brother’s mother, but he lingered thinking about another brother. Still, he had seen no sign of Roux and with each day that passed another piece of Sacre’s heart chipped away. His arrow had not glowed, he could not be in danger, but still it hurt not to see his familiar crimson face. They had been together for so much of their childhood it seemed wrong to be separated in adulthood, but perhaps Roux was somewhere else, doing something important and the fox-boy shouldn’t be worrying so much. Of course, he worried anyway.

The crunching autumnal sound of lifeless leaves being crushed beneath his cloven hooves was the only sound he made as he travelled, his two vulpine companions too intent on guarding their stashes of acorns to do any frolicking around the blazing dead forest. Though their beady eyes watched for the shadows that moved and stranger scents that might (and often did) fill the air of the Threshold—Helovia’s claiming grounds. So, in the beginning light of dawn, the sudden sound of scattering bones didn’t go unnoticed on the ears of two keen foxes, who spun their heads in the direction of the noise, their fur standing on end in surprise.

“Left” they both echoed into his head and Sacre altered his course, following the direction of the noise until he came across a mare… Collecting bits of bone.

A shiver went though his body as he watched her collect each piece made creepier by the dewy lighting of sunrise against the woodland and the approaching weather in the distance. For a moment, the fox-boy was caught in a rare moment of speechlessness as he wondered if he should really intrude on her or just leave her to collect her bones. He wasn’t sure if he really wanted to know what she was doing with them, but then again perhaps he did. Anyway, didn’t he always try to greet newcomers in the gateway to Helovia? Why should this mare be any different? Swallowing, he moved himself forwards at a walk before stopping at what he thought was a rather respectful distance away, his head cocked to one side allowing his tangled black mane to fall messily onto his face.

“What are you doing?” he asked the paint finally.