
Princes and princesses alike wore fine robes, and the stallions carried swords as well, with which to defend their family and their herd. The robes, too, held a practical purpose: the robes shielded them from the sun and prevented the oppressive heat from laying them low. For the most part it was practical and comfortable. Sometimes, however, their royal attire, marks of their rank, caused...difficulties.
Difficulties such as this one: this morning, in his daily sword drill, Haidar had ripped his robe. He stared at it, mournfully, wondering what to do; he was ashamed of himself. His movements had been sloppy, and now he had damaged a robe. What would his father, or his older brother, or his mother say? Had he just shown disrespect to his family through his clumsiness?
In a panic, he slipped out of the royal compound and headed into the herd. He knew there had to be artisans, people skilled in the making and repairing of cloth, that could help him. He headed out into the part of the herd where the artisans lived, seeking out the tent where he might find a Star who could fix his damaged robe.