Whisper poked her dished head out of her tiny stall, and looked at the walking girl. Her sunken eyes were lifeless, and her ribs stuck out. She whinnied wearily, before retreating into her stall.
Thief was in the stall next to Whisper, and at the whinny, she stuck her own head out of the stall. Thief was in better condition than Whisper, whom she had known since they were foals. She looked at the mare hopefully, her sleek, petite body glowing slightly in the dim light.