"For time out of mind," she answered. Amalthea had no notion of how long she'd been in her forest - a unicorn had no need to count hours or days or years. They meant nothing to an immortal, and her magic ceased the changing of seasons in the forest. The only thing that marked time at all were the animals that were born and grew and lived and died. She never tired of watching them.

She wondered if they were alright.

"Perhaps you're right. It would take some time for it to fade, I suppose. But I still worry." She leaned into Greta and rested her head against the woman's shoulder. "What if they are waiting for me?"