As a young girl, Cait had once clopped along on a docile pony as a birthday treat. These beasts, by contrast, looked as though they could run like the wind. They bridled, eager to be off. Around their legs jostled a pack of animals, something like hounds but with larger mouths full of too many sharp teeth.
The riders shouted to each other, laughing at some joke. One of them was clearly a lord of the undain. He sat tall and proud in flowing white robes trimmed with scarlet and silver. His hair, also, was silver, flowing down his back as he controlled his eight-legged steed with a gloved hand. He turned his horse, revealing a face that was striking in its beauty. Ancient and young at the same time.
Nox was there, too, riding a six-legged horse. It was Nox the undain lord was laughing with.
