The mare stretches out her neck, long and reaching, in pleasure at the attention, then nuzzles at Susan's pockets, which probably smell like the treats she sometimes carries. "You're nice, Susan, Daughter of Eve," she says. "You smell like hay and roses."

For his part, Caspian addresses Rhin. "If you see any horses in your roaming, would you send them our way?" he asks.

The stallion nods his head, ears flicking. "This land is wide for those with such short legs," he says, comfortably. "And only two each! How you get anywhere at all is a mystery to me."