Gabriel and Dior celebrated modestly at their camp when a crackle in the deadwood froze them both. Gabriel drew Ashdrinker and scanned the dark, while Dior armed herself with a burning log. Hearing heavy breathing and four-footed movement, they feared a Blight-twisted beast like those they had seen in the Forest of Sorrows.

A shadow advanced through the snowfall. Gabriel steeled for combat, fangs lengthening, but he quickly recognized the silhouette: Jezebel, the grey dray mare. Relieved, he lowered Ashdrinker and called out to her. Jezebel nickered, bramble-scratched and filthy but alive, and Dior rushed forward to embrace her.

Gabriel and Dior marveled at Jezebel’s return. Gabriel speculated that during the chaos at San Guillaume, Jezebel had fled and likely swum the Volta to escape the Dead. Dior defended Jezebel’s resilience and coaxed her to the fire, where she fussed over the mare, combing her mane and feeding her dried mushrooms.

The reunion felt miraculous to both of them. Gabriel, usually skeptical of miracles, briefly wondered if fortune had shifted in their favor. However, as he later reflected while staring into lamplight, Gabriel admitted he should have known better, signaling that this hope might be misplaced.