Hues of reds and yellows painted the night sky. The sun was a white sphere as it settled down, passing it's timeless duty to the ever present but less seen moon. A cool breeze wafted through the empty valley, rattling the dying leaves of trees fated to fall, producing a chilling melody. A dark figure clambered from the shadows into the moonlit basin and stood tall. Their stature was firm and unyielding, and held absolutely no fear. A movement, the figures arm had raised, hand to the mouth, before a brusque piercing whistle echoed throughout the valley. Any fool who had witnessed the scene would have run in trepidation rambling of sorcerers' summoning demons and other nonsense, only to bring shame to themselves when the cloak of obscurity revealed a mere horse. The horse, a grand stallion at that, approached the being and snuffled in obvious affection. He was then mounted and melted back into the darkness.