Shy Deer Steppes tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow

Was that? It couldn't be. And yet. . . Could it?—

"Chhoti rani." The voice was true. Madhuri stepped toward her grandmother, a large smile blooming over her face at what the woman had called her.

I wish, the yearling said ruefully, though not without humor. In Mynydd, I am twysoges—'princess.'

She touched her golden muzzle to Easy's cheek, affectionate. She'd butted heads with her mother, sure, but there was no love lost between her and her maternal family—nor even with Eldest, really.

How are you? Madhu asked, cocking her head. And what brings you so far from home?

And, for that matter, was her mother here, too? Her uncle? Her cousins? Madhuri's head spun slightly, suddenly, and she took a moment to steady herself as she contemplated the prospect of an unexpected—and slightly off-putting—mass family reunion.