Queen seems upset. Her face is hardly any different than usual, the same drawn and stoic expression on her flawless features streaked across with brown. Mud slung on a white canvas. However, you may notice that there is something tired in her teal eyes, or I notice, anyway. You see, I have been watching Queen for many years now. I still remember the first time I met her, among many other young foals, a decidedly different air was around the filly known as Addison. She was stern, even as a child, and she rarely smiled. She smiles even more rarely now. I would never say that Queen was particularly glum, but more serious. Even in practice she took the art of fighting very seriously. Our home took battle seriously, but I think the Shield was everything to her, aside from her family, of course.

Now, as I watch her on this dull afternoon, I begin to notice that she is acting slightly off. Her step is ever so distracted for one so careful. Normal equines wouldn't notice, no, but normally her eyes are much more alert. I think she has been haunted by faces in her sleep, you see. Faces that I knew well, well as she. Comrades, family.... perhaps a lover. I do not know who haunts her, but I believe it may be her sister. The last familiar face from Harbeindgar she saw. The body she left behind. I imagine it keeps her from sleeping some nights.

Even if I were there to ask, I doubt Queen would admit to it. She has always been starkly introverted and unwilling to discuss her thoughts. Were she not so damned beautiful when she faught, Queen likely would have had this habit corrected long ago. I remember in our second year of training they even tried. That did not end so well for the instructor.

Alas, there had been times when Queen would whisper her thoughts to me when no one else was around. How I longed to gaze into her mind, but I found myself ill-equipped to do so. She never made much sense, frankly, but I believe that was because I never understood her to begin with. For as long as I have known Queen, she continues to surprise me, you see. Like now, you can watch as she walks through the field in a normal fashion, ears alert but eyes dead. What is she seeing in that mind of hers? Why? Does it have something to do with the magic wielding tree stallion? Or is it an older image, much more volatile?

I hope, for her sake, it is the former.