Brophar rode on still, the last rays of the sun behind him slowly disappearing as nightfall's black hands seized the world. The steady clippety-clop of his mud-brown steed's hooves was slow and quiet now, for the knight did not wish to risk his horse stepping in a hole and breaking its leg. In the solitude of the forest, he dared allow himself a loud yawn. The earlier battle had been invigorating, as a good deed should be, but Brophar was still quite fatigued. The dulling fingers of sleep crept up on the knight in his saddle, and within minutes he found himself having to shake his head to stay awake. With a tremendous blast of willpower, he balled his fists and scowled, pushing back his fatigue. There was no way this brave warrior, noble knight and bold defender of the kingdom would ever do something so dishonourable and straight out unmanly as dozing off!

When he woke up, he'd almost ridden over an old man who seemed to be in need of a good trimming of the 'ol facial hair. He also seemed to be in grave need of a pair of glasses or some sort of hearing aid, since he did not appear to have noticed the knight coming. In fact, the robed old creature seemed almost transfixed, staring at something off the road. Brophar considered wondering what it was, but realized he'd scarcely have time for the thought before he'd ridden the elderly gentleman into the ground, wherefore he quickly tugged at the reins.

The horse, who'd been quite happy to get some time to himself, to think about whatever horses might like to think about, was completely unprepared for the sudden tug. More specifically, it scared the poor creature shitless, and she reared, neighing in sudden fright. The knight had expected that sort of reaction from the lazy wretch of a mount, and remained easily in the saddle 'til the beast had calmed down. Raising a hand in greeting, Brophar called out to the wizard, "Ho there, wanderer! Who are you that travels the king's road this late ho...", he began, but was cut short as he looked up to find that the morrow had already come. "...This fair morn", he corrected himself, swinging stiffly down from the saddle. He tried to make it look graceful, but a night in the saddle does no good to the back.

Paying little or no heed to any forthcoming reply, Brophar flicked open his helmet's visor, revealing his clear blue eyes and flaring red, bushy moustache, and peered into the forest, in the direction the old man had been looking. "And what were ye searching for? Ah, your horse ran away, sir? Don't worry, I will catch the beast and bring him back to you". The knight had spotted the unicorn, obviously, and had mistaken her for a horse, as men were wont to do. The fact that she had no saddle had not occurred to him. Without delay, he set about removing his armour, renewing his promises of swift capture.

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