[open] Where I'm from, the rivers run red (Myrna)

[Ravin]

I think suddenly of the two strange children he had met in the Forest, of their wary, watchful eyes. Cascadia has eyes like that, it had reminded me of them, and not for the first time I wonder what real dangers might lie beyond the shelter of the Gates.

Then Wynters mentions bad creatures, and my eyes flick back to her, in time to hear my sister answer that: Yes,” someday Wynters will be as big as she is - bigger, probably, I muse, since my sibling has clearly inherited Ruhr’s height rather than our mother’s.

The younger foal doesn’t elaborate though, and I can tell from the way that Cascadia’s shoulders droop and the concern on my mother’s face, that now is not the best time to ask about what the scary creatures had been.

”There’s nothing scary here,“ I attempt to reassure her, ”You’re too big for a jackal to drag off.“