The stable had never looked like this before.
Darion stood just outside the entrance beside Garren and looked slowly across the rows of horses occupying nearly every available space within Percvale's stable grounds.
The difference was absurd.
Just weeks ago they had been down to eighteen after the forest losses. It had looked half-dead, same as the rest of Percvale. Thin horses with visible ribs standing in cramped sections with barely enough feed to maintain themselves. Animals that had looked exhausted even while standing still.
Now? Now the stable was pretty full.
Healthy horses occupied nearly every stall, their coats clean and well-kept from Valdenmoor's maintenance before the attack. Some stamped their hooves impatiently against the ground. Others lowered their heads into feed buckets, eating heavily.
Darion realized that this would be too much work for Wulfric and that he would have to employ more servants to assist in the handling of things in the castle.
