Horsing around

[wings_of_a_swan]

Combeferre pokes his head into Duncan's stable. He has a small tablet attached to a small speaker. He carries all this equipment without difficulty--everything is small and not heavy--but with a certain tentativeness, like he's scared he might break something.

He's still not clear on who named the horse Duncan. He doesn't think it was Feuilly. But...Feuilly's been spending some time here, and Combeferre became curious about one or two horsey questions.

The place does look rather lived in. By a human. There's a cot-like thing. Feuilly must have been here more often than Combeferre thought.

Combeferre walks up to Duncan and starts petting his nose.

Comments

[wings_of_a_swan]

Combeferre shakes his hand with a half-smile. He's being good too! "We may pardon each other, then, and forget this--for our friends would no doubt think us fools for squabbling."

[harryhotspur]

"No doubt," he agrees, and he does mean that, at least. He's been called a fool for less, after all.

"I will leave you, then, to Duncan's company," he says. He did consider staying, of course, just to prove that he could, but the attendant boredom doesn't seem worth the minor victory.

[wings_of_a_swan]

Combeferre nods. "Farewell, then."

[harryhotspur]

Hotspur starts to go-- then bounds back over to Duncan to give him a last pat and murmur something in his ear. Then he goes, with a last nod to Combeferre.