[Folwren]

Tim paused for half a second and then sprang to his feet. This was a chance being offered to him by a lady from his parent’s homeland. His father had not often spoke of Rohan, but when he had, there had always been a strange light in his eye that Tim had never fully understood, but did enough to know that it was a beloved land and that his father missed it. He came forward and took Aman’s hand and then looked back at Wren.

“Can you stay here for a bit?” he asked. She only nodded, and he and the Rohannian lady went out.

They crossed the bright yard and entered the dim barn again. Aman led him forward to the stalls and then stopped by one. She smiled down at him slightly as she undid the latch and then swung the door open and ushered him in.

A large mass moved in the corner across from them and Tim saw the horse’s head turn towards them. Its jet black, shining eyes caught the light from the open doorway and reflected it as it stared at Tim. Then he moved and shifted, pivoting on his hind legs to face the two visitors and took two steps forward to them.

“This is Taydoch,” Aman said softly from behind Tim. A smile came to the boy’s face and he extended his hand upwards to touch the horse. He felt the warm breath from his wide nostrils flow over his fingers and he gently stroked him.

Taydoch was a gentle horse, but seemed positively massive next to Tim’s slight figure. The lad didn’t mind and he wasn’t at all shy to walk forward to his shoulders and pass his hands along beneath his stomach and girth and feel the muscles of his legs and the delicately shaped bones of his fetlock and hoof.

“He’s beautiful,” Tim said, walking back to Aman with his hand trailing the handsome curve of Taydoch’s neck. The lady smiled.

“Come see the others,” she said, turning to go. “There are several here belonging to the guests.”

The two of them visited most of the occupied stalls as briefly as they could and then headed back towards the inn’s kitchen to see what could be resolved upon.