For the first time in a long time, Solgar dreams.

He dreams of a mare called Chaya, one whom he'd known for a single day seven years ago. Her voice is soft and soothing as she asks him why he is so sad, so down and obviously lost in life. Yet her face is blank, a void with no features, and when Solgar wakes he will not remember this dream.

Yet he dreams all the same, and it's an important milestone for him, one he will one day come to understand.

When he wakes, it's still dark, and the forest is eerily quiet. The mares are sleeping nearby; he can sense their presence. Yet there seems to be a silent tension in the air as if someone has just called out and he hasn't heard them in time. Blinking to clear the sleep from his dark eyes, he breathes into the chilly air and waits for the sound to come again.

A few long moments later, and The Watcher calls, its shrill avian voice echoing across the vast landscape. The eagle is nearby, and it sees something. Thanks, old friend.

He starts off right away, trying to ignore the stiffness of his legs as he moves. Every stick that cracks and every dead leaf that crunches beneath his hooves seems far too loud, as if he will wake the inlet itself. Solgar makes an extra effort to avoid making these noises, just in case he is about to walk into a trap.

He strolls through the dapples of moonlight, weaving through the trees until finally the eagle calls again - right above him. Solgar stops and looks out into the open meadow from his hiding place, all but holding his breath. There a dark mare and a young roan stallion stand together conversing. 'Who are you?' he hears the youth say, and then he notices something.

The youth is wounded. The stale, coppery stench of blood reaches his nostrils a moment later, and with it, anger fills him. This fool will attract every predator for miles around, he thinks, and is about to stroll out into the open to break up the strangers' reunion, but something inexplicable keeps him rooted in place.

For the moment, he remains quiet in the shadows, for he too wants to know who this mare is. He seems to be stumbling across multitudes of homeless women these days; perhaps this is another one of Tarrants' widows. And perhaps he will find out why this colt is injured sooner if he doesn't frighten the poor lad.