When Tymber got to Potter's house she decided that none of this had happened. She went and said goodbye to Presta, and Presta is still there, alive and well. None of this happened because it wasn't possible. It just wasn't. She had a future with Daire now. There was no prophecy. Nothing she did would help her tribe. She didn't want to give them help. She realised then that her entire life had been spent trying to get away from them; the better part anyway. What did she have now? She had nothing; no identity.
She took a deep breath and stabled herself. She led Seabring into the stall. "Um, there's some grain there." she told him, pointing to a bucket.
"Tymber, that was quick." Daire said, coming into the stable.
"Yes. There wasn't much to say." Tymber said, her voice wavering.
"Are you alright?" Daire asked, concerned. "You look flushed."
"I-I'm okay; just a touch tired." She smiled lightly.
Daire nodded. "We stayed up late. How about some breakfast?"
"Oh, yes!" Tymber replied. "I'm starving." She pulled his arm toward Potter's house.
They went in the back way and into the kitchen. Tymber helped Sera and Peewee set the table while Daire went upstairs. When everything was set up, Martha yelled for the men to come down. Daire sat beside Tymber and took her hand as they thanked the Gods. Tymber lifted her eyelid and looked at Daire. They had stayed up late, and Tymber was sure she looked horrid, but Daire's looks never failed to be simply beautiful. When he let go of her hand, she knew the prayer had ended and felt guilty that she hadn't paid the God more thanks and Daire less attention. She blushed and secretly wished that her hand was still in his.