[Alatariel Telemnar]

Alatariel had fallen into a dream. She sat there, at the corner table, with a scared expression on her face. She was suddenly jerked out of it, by a shake of her head. A small ball of sweat ran down her forehead; however, she felt cold, and pulled her cloak in tighter. A shiver ran down her spine. It was the stallion! He was in trouble! She felt it.

Running outside, she started singing. It was an expressionless song, no mood, not happy, not sad, just a song. In the distance, there was a sound, it was the stallion. Alatariel continued her song. The wind was blowing around her, whipping at her cloak. The black stallion suddenly appeared around the corner. He was covered with scratches. 'Your worse than I expected, come we must get you cleaned up,' she said leading him inside the stables.

Putting him in the stall in the far corner, she left to fetch some warm water and a clean cloth. She bursted out of the stable, the wind continued to blow, and ran as fast as she could inside.