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>Alone in his voluntary exile, the stallion watched >over his herd from a distant vantage point. His dark >form was barely discernible through the mist-shrouded >trees making him little more than a wraith in his own >lands. And a wraith was exactly what he had been >reduced to. For the past few nights he had been >plagued by nightmares of Cymbra's death. The days were >little better as memories of her flooded his weary >mind. Hanging his head, he wondered if he could ever >overcome this mind-numbing depression. Life seemed so >bleak now. The only light that pierced his gloom was >emitted by his daughters but he rarely bothered them >anymore. His once well-muscled figure was dwindling >rapidly to that of an emaciated horse on the brink of >death. Yeah, he ate occasionally when he could >remember that he was supposed to at some point. But >this sporadic means of grazing was not maintaining his >good health and it showed. Sighing heavily, he closed >his eyes to lose himself to dreams once again.

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