"Actually, that's a sneeze," Amos informed her, walking up to the pair. The horse pricked its ears as Amos mentally greeted it, and offered a hand. The horse sniffed his palm. "Hello, sir," he told the black, cheerfully but respectfully because stallions were strong-willed and full of themselves, then looked at the woman beside him.

"Hi. I'm Amos. Need a hand getting up? Or should we find you a shorter horse?" Amos was pretty sure there was one in the group, and no doubt a trade could be made.