The loud rumbling and crunch of tires caused by a large white truck pulling up to the stable announced the arrival of a dark haired girl. A white and silver side loading trailer was hooked up behind the truck. Luna opened the passenger side door and slipped out, bidding a goodbye to her salt and pepper haired father that sat in the drivers seat. She wore tall black boots, black and white breeches and a navy long sleeved, high neck riding shirt. A lound, deep whinny resounded from the trailer as Luna carefully lowered the trailer door. An elegant grey warmblood stallion peered back at the girl with large brown eyes filled with curiosity. He had been watching out the window for the whole ride. His nostrils flared as he took in the comforting scent of his owner as well as the smells that wafted to him from the stable. "Easy, Wither." The girl cooed in a soft voice as she stepped up into the trailer, smoothing out the navy blanket that covered him during the ride to Bexley. She walked to Withers left, letting her fingers easily untie the knot that held the large stallion in place. Luna placed her small hand onto the stallions chest, only having to put a slight pressure on it for him to start backing up slowly down the ramp. With one hand she managed to close the trailer door herself, while her father jumped out and began pulling out her tack and trunk. "I'll go ahead and find his stall then come back and help you." Luna said as she looked back at her father. He gave a thumbs up and a smile that said 'go ahead'. A grin stretched across her lips as she and Wither walked up to the stable. A soft sigh escaped her lips. 'This is it' she thought to herself. A thought ran through her mind that caused her to pause and look down the aisles. A bluch crept onto her cheeks as she relized she didn't know where Wither's stall was. Wither held his head up high, looking around before shaking himself. His leather halter jingled as he did, sloshing his lead rope along with it
A warrior considers himself already dead, so there is nothing to lose. The worse has already happened to him, therefore he's clear and calm; judging him by his acts or by his words, one would never suspect that he has witnessed everything.
- Carlos Castanela