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As he stepped into the blazing sunlight on a cloudless, sunny morning, his black pelt glistening, Garreth though about his father. One of the first lessons his father taught him was to observe. "Know your enemies and know your friends before they even acknowledge your existence," he'd said. So this was what the muscular brute was doing; his chestnut eyes taking everything in. He was standing in a filed full of lush green grass and horses - a rather good combination if you could find a delectable patch of grass and a cordial horse to share it with. A group of mares conversed near one end of the field. Intriguing-looking equines of all shapes, sizes, and genders spread out in various spots. Some talked, some grazed, and still others observed, like Garreth.

Confident that this hodgepodge of equines provided a friendly environment, the massive black stallion walked further into the field. He was close enough to smell the earthy scent of grass-covered dirt after a recent rain, and he realized he was hungry. He bent his head, pulling a large mouthful of grass from the dark soil, a piece of his dark, curly mane falling into his face, and straightened up again, blowing the piece of hair out of his face, eyes half closed as he enjoyed the tasty food and the warm sun. Yet his ears were still swiveling around, always alert. 

Garreth wondered why these horses were all grouped together. Most seemed to be waiting for something. Then, as he watched a stallion approach a mare, he realized that some were recruiting others. A few minutes later, the mare followed the stallion away from the field. 

Garreth snatched another mouthful of grass, when he heard someone come up behind him. Straightening once again, he turned around.