Doomed, the leftovers from Corsair’s meal plummeted from the plate and towards the floor of the stables. They hit the ground with a wet thud, lasting a second before Quickpaw’s head shot down to the ground and tore it to shreds. Corsair watched his steed enjoy his surplus meal, petting the back of his neck.
“Good ictharr.”
Quickpaw lifted his head to nuzzle his paw before returning to his meal, a gesture that made him smile. He looked over to the neighbouring stable to see Harangoth consuming his dinner in a more reserved manner. Ragnar watched him, leaning over the stable door.
Corsair looked to the right. Beside Quickpaw’s stable was another stall, one that was once occupied by Reginald. It stood empty, last filled with his presence years ago. He contemplated his last memories of the
