His glance goes from the horses to her, then turns from thoughtful to mischievous. Caspian lets go her hand so he can cup both his around his mouth like a speaking-trumpet, then inflates his chest and calls out, his voice sure and strong.
"Hail, friends! How goes the day?"
The lead horse – or Horse, as he suspected – lifts its head, then wheels the whole herd around to come and approach them, shaking the ground with their approach. As they come nearer, he can see the lead Horse is a large gray stallion, mane and tail white as snow, flanks thickly dappled. "Greetings, Son of Adam," it says, politely, and flicks its tail. "Daughter of Eve."
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"Hail, friends! How goes the day?"
The lead horse – or Horse, as he suspected – lifts its head, then wheels the whole herd around to come and approach them, shaking the ground with their approach. As they come nearer, he can see the lead Horse is a large gray stallion, mane and tail white as snow, flanks thickly dappled. "Greetings, Son of Adam," it says, politely, and flicks its tail. "Daughter of Eve."