Few can truly understand the weight of a mother’s grief. No parent should have to outlive their child— though Quinn refuses to believe that her foal has passed.

Quinn was perfectly happy living as a single mother. She’d always yearned to create a family of her own, and though things didn’t work out with the stallion she bore a child with, she was content. Her little Ayla was a bright and beautiful child; she was curious about the world and full of energy. Quinn stayed consistently on the move, bringing her daughter with her to explore all kinds of places— poking around woodlands and plains by day and counting stars as night fell.

There was no warning— after all, Quinn had never learned the significance of mushroom circles. How was she to know that the forest they settled for the night in was so close to a gate to the fae realm? She awoke the next morning, greeted her foal, and they continued on as usual. As hours, then days passed, Quinn began to realize differences in Ayla’s behavior. She was less obedient, her questions grew more morbid, and there was an uncanny feeling to her Quinn couldn’t quite place when she looked at her. The foal looked like Ayla, sounded like Ayla, and for the most part, acted like Ayla… but this was not her baby.

Quinn tried to get the changeling to answer questions about who it was and where her daughter could be, but the creature impersonating Ayla was committed to its act. Quinn was stricken with grief— and the changeling’s torment certainly didn’t help. She would wake in the night to find it watching her.

Desperate, the mare brought the false child to the Crusade after hearing rumors of monster hunters in the area. The patrol apprehended the changeling, binding it in silver. Quinn was accepted into the Crusade as a refugee, hoping that the tacticians would be able to interrogate the foul fae and learn where they could someday save her true child.

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