"It's not his fault." Long Arm approached, his heavy hooffalls echoing off the wood beneath them. Dust abruptly recognized the color of the colt's mane—it was the same as Long Arm's. He seemed to have a similar eye color, too. "He's just seeing what I did. Hoping you might have more of an explanation. Rather like I am." He nodded up at the poster. "Monsters got his mother, stranger. 'Bout six months ago, before winter ended.