The indigence of the refugees milling around him made him want to weep. Their homes had been burned, loved ones lost, and all they had was the clothes on their backs and, in some cases, a few meager possessions.
The awfulness of the conditions in the camp couldn't be helped. Too many people crowded into one spot with no planning for their needs created the chaos around him. His horse whinnied nervously and backed away as a mass of people--his people--came towards him, hands outstretched, and eyes that looked at him, a Rider of the Mark, with hope.