Mazikeen is trying to remember if she had known by this point last year, or if it was closer to winter. Is the feeling of something being off inside of her to do with a pregnancy or just a byproduct of how life was progressing at this point. Does the twisting feeling in her stomach belong to the creation of life or how conflicted she feels about Gale - or, more accurately, the thing wearing Gale’s face?

She decides to leave Hyaline instead of seeking him out, knowing that her restlessness - which had appeared during her last pregnancy - is just her natural state now and not likely a sign that anything is changing.

The markings lacing her back are a manifestation of her thoughts, as always. For a while there she had gotten so good at keeping her emotions in check, ensuring that they could not bother her. Now that they’ve been dug up again she must wrestle them back into their graves. What good is it really, to feel guilt and sadness and fury over the things she cannot change? Better to leave her mind free, better to give herself whatever peace she can manage at whatever price.

So Mazikeen attempts to do this as she makes the trek out of the mountains, while she follows the twisting shape of the river as the sun sinks lower to the horizon. She considers, briefly, shifting into something aquatic and letting the current take her wherever it wishes - but this is a silly, idle thought. Something she would enjoy doing with Sabal. And therefore not something she can let herself entertain at this moment.

She remains a mare, crowned with twisted horns and wearing black feathered wings that fold over her body - keeping both the glowing markings tracing her spine and her unswollen sides out of her periphery so she cannot give them more attention than she already is.