The white stallion walked through the graveyard eyeing the small grave of his parents. He didn’t know how he managed to get that stone into place or how he rolled their bodies all the way here when he was a child, but he did. It was hell, he knew that for sure. He flicked his mane as he walked over to the small stream leaning down and drinking from it with swiftness. Before he knew it, he was walking again away from the graveyard and the stream that lay within it. He didn’t know where he was going. He didn’t have much anymore. Only his sister and him, but she rarely spoke to him. This in turn made him feel very alone. The loneliness that crept on him when he was a child.
