But family and home—he had Dallen, of course, and he would rather die than lose Dallen—but that was all. He had never known before that family could be a good, even a wonderful, thing. Certainly the Pieterses were . . . well, the only thing he imagined Cole Pieters feeling about his children was that they were adequate additions to his workforce. But these pictures that Dallen showed him—things and stories that Bear and Lena had told him—

And he had no one. His throat ached a little.

:Are Bear and Lena going home?: he asked, a further sinking feeling coming over him. They would, of course, how could they not? If this was a time when families made a point of drawing together, then they must go home. Leaving him alone here.

:I’m afraid so. And I am afraid it has not occurred to either of them that you are staying here.: Dallen said apologetically, then added, :But Jakyr will be here; I expect him in the next few days. So there will be one familiar face at least.:

It didn’t help much, but he decided to put a brave face on it. They were his friends, after all. And Midwinter seemed to mean a season of giving. :Should I do something about Midwinter presents for them, then?: he asked, wondering where he was going to get the means to produce such a thing. In the past, the only presents he’d had to give were the grass shoes he wove, or a bit of food. He couldn’t give food, and why would anyone want his grass shoes?

But Dallen seemed prepared for the question, and had an answer ready, :Yes, but leave that to me. I’ll manage it, and it will be from both of us. They will like that.:

Mags blinked, but accepted the assurance at face value. After all, it wasn’t as if Dallen hadn’t managed seemingly impossible things before. Sometimes he wondered if the Companion was ever surprised by anything.

So he forgot about it until after Weapons class. When he returned to the stable, Dallen called to him, with mind and with a stamp of his forehoof. :Mags, if you are not busy, I need you to come here a moment, would you?;

Obediently, he went straight to Dallen’s stall. The Companion nudged him affectionately with his nose, as he reached out to scratch Dallen’s soft ears. :Come in here, please. I need you to comb out my mane and tail and be very careful. Gather up as many of the hairs as come out as you can, don’t stretch or damage them, keep them straight. I’m going to concentrate very hard on shedding some.:

Baffled by the odd request, Mags did as he was told. Surprisingly enough, when he was done, he had a skein of silvery hairs the size of a thick rope.