"If Love himself weep, shall not lovers weep,
learning from what sad cause he pours his tears?
Love hears his ladies crying their distress,
showing forth bitter sorrow through their eyes
because villainous Death has worked its cruel
destructive art upon a gentle heart,
and laid waste all that earth can find to praise
in a gracious lady, save her chastity."

Shiraz stumbles out of the way of the incoming stranger, his long stilts loosing track of the weight of his growing body, and eventually the sooty-colored foal tips over onto his side. Macabre releases a high-pitched grunt upon feeling the hasty grasp of the foreign colt's lips and teeth upon her flesh. Based on Bastian's fervor and grip of which he drank, Macabre could tell it had been some time. She ignored his mother for now, scooting awkwardly toward her child, with Bastian still locked on and in tow, to help him to his feet. Shiraz climbed back onto all fours, eyes wide with interest in this other boy, one that clearly was around his age. His size, however, dwarfed that of Shiraz. The colt let out an ecstatic high-pitched whinny -- the first time Macabre had ever heard him do so -- as he tried to get the attention of the new foal, the one that seemed intent on filling his belly prior to doing anything else at all.

Dark marbled eyes craned to watch the colt as he drank. She looked to Silver now, smiling weekly as if to let her know it was O.K., before turning to listen to Dogun speak. So much had changed in the last few weeks. Shiraz's health was continuing to dwindle. Some of Dogun's herd appeared to be missing. Macabre had heard whispers of the Lagoon's activity in neighboring herds being violent and more frequent as of late. Perhaps Dogun knew more about the shifting political tides on the islands. She never speaks, and instead two chestnut-colored lobes pricked forward at attention as she listened.