[ Paul has always loved horses. This small one is no exception. He leans into her nuzzle with eyes that half-lid again, letting out a warm huff of breath not unlike a horse himself as he runs a hand down her arched neck. ]
Aren't you something?
[ She's a well-turned mare, to his appraisal, which does not linger on the rough, shadowy patches that are not quite whole. He loops an arm around her as he levers up to his feet, a wordless yes of his own. ]
You came looking for me. [ Like she said, he thinks, and is not sure why. ] I'm all right. But - thank you.
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Aren't you something?
[ She's a well-turned mare, to his appraisal, which does not linger on the rough, shadowy patches that are not quite whole. He loops an arm around her as he levers up to his feet, a wordless yes of his own. ]
You came looking for me. [ Like she said, he thinks, and is not sure why. ] I'm all right. But - thank you.