Quietly, Gemma picked her way through the forest adjacent to Skyherd, closing her eyes as she weaved carefully between the trees. Without a mother to tell her where things were, she'd developed a hardened seventh sense of sorts, sensing through smell and touch where things were and made a map of sorts to guide her back and forth between Skyherd and the forest. It had been hard at first, tripping over a few foreign tree stumps and bumping into a hard-barked tree or two, but she'd done it. There was a sort of satisfaction in being able to navigate by herself now, a feeling of power that was invigorating.
Yet, standing in the midst of the trees and marveling at her own independence, she didn't smile. Independent she may be, but somehow, in some way, the silence of the forest, devoid of horses, was more lonely than ever before.
