He called a halt to his eored, squinting his eyes to gaze across the dry, brown plains. They'd been following their enemy for days now, engaging in small skirmishes that worked to soften their lines. A gradual push to the east, to send their foes back to their godforsaken lands.
The men were tired and there were some losses to mourn. But they would not lose their focus. They couldn't. Because in the evening as they watched the sun setting in the west, they also looked towards their people--their families--who depended on the Riders to keep them safe.