Don't you draw the queen of diamonds, boy
"Yep. We'll see what happens now that everything is supposedly all spread out." Clearly Morgen hasn't travelled enough to know quite what the continent now looks like post-war, but he doesn't have his head in the sand about it either. 'King's End mostly stayed together, which is all I really care about."
Snickering as if Isla had made a filthy joke, Morgen grins and nods. "I find most of 'em actually like a bit of spirit. They're herd animals so they like to know where you fit into things, and people who are too submissive don't convey much confidence to 'em." It's probably a coincidence, but ahead, the mare snorts loudly and snaps her tail.
As the pair crest the last of the Mourn's mounds, the pathway winds down towards a rather lovely clearing within which Isla can likely easily make out thirty or so vaguely-horse-shaped creatures. Tilting his head slightly to the side at precisely the same moment the mare did the same, Morgen gives a nod. "Yeah sure, way you go." So saying, the mare and colt amble off at an easy canter to rejoin the herd. "Couldn't do it without her." He mumbles affectionately, before glancing over at Isla to explain. "We're bonded." Bonded, instead of my companion. "Most days she keeps 'em in line far more than I do. I think she tolerates me cause of my thumbs and tongue." Realizing how incredibly inappropriate that might sound, Morgen's cheeks grow maroon as he fumbles to explain.
'Y'know, to talk and open things with my hands and whatnot."
Snickering as if Isla had made a filthy joke, Morgen grins and nods. "I find most of 'em actually like a bit of spirit. They're herd animals so they like to know where you fit into things, and people who are too submissive don't convey much confidence to 'em." It's probably a coincidence, but ahead, the mare snorts loudly and snaps her tail.
As the pair crest the last of the Mourn's mounds, the pathway winds down towards a rather lovely clearing within which Isla can likely easily make out thirty or so vaguely-horse-shaped creatures. Tilting his head slightly to the side at precisely the same moment the mare did the same, Morgen gives a nod. "Yeah sure, way you go." So saying, the mare and colt amble off at an easy canter to rejoin the herd. "Couldn't do it without her." He mumbles affectionately, before glancing over at Isla to explain. "We're bonded." Bonded, instead of my companion. "Most days she keeps 'em in line far more than I do. I think she tolerates me cause of my thumbs and tongue." Realizing how incredibly inappropriate that might sound, Morgen's cheeks grow maroon as he fumbles to explain.
'Y'know, to talk and open things with my hands and whatnot."
